#chamber x clove

[offbranddrpepsi]

Chamber X Clove pt 1.

fuck it we ball Pt 1: Here Pt 2: There Ongoing ___________________________

How many times had they dangled between the thin membrane that was the line between life and death? It seemed endless. The space between wasn’t cold or scary, it was rather welcoming and warm. A stereo gram of each significant moment in their life that played for them just when death was trying to catch them. The sad and happy creating the perfect storybook as they skipped along. But a breath in the world of the living was a lifetime at the boundary. It was exhilarating but it had it’s costs. When death no longer mattered you lived recklessly, carelessly. Each moment with someone felt near meaningless at times. If you could just relive it, why focus on the details in the moment? Why care what someone thought or how you presented? To say it made interactions shallow was an understatement. There was also the looming threat of out living everyone you’d ever know, never knowing when you’d truly die and would finally fall over the edge.

Maybe this was all why Clove had been so willing to throw themselves in the line of fire. To throw their life away for another that just so happened to lead them to a new group of faces who needed their burden as if it was a gift. Their joy was infectious. Their vibrancy for life seemed to be appreciated here more than it ever had. So Clove had started calling Valorant and it’s collection of misfits home. Everything was so exciting to them, even the current task of moving their scarce collection of possessions into their room. Everyone was also exciting and very friendly, even the scarier agents like Fade and Reyna. They’d even embrace Clove’s love of dungeons and dragons, some of the others even being into it themselves. Of course some of the agents were also less exciting. Cypher acted all goofy and friendly but didn’t talk about himself or understand the ‘youths’ well. Sova was super friendly but also super super stuffy sometimes but not nearly as stuffy as Viper. Chamber was the definition of a suit, a corporate jack off that in another life would call the polis on them for trespassing on what was clearly public property. But something that couldn’t be sneered at was just how diverse and colorful everyone here was. Clove loved it and couldn’t wait to get to know everyone more.

As the little butterfly fluttered down the hallway from their still not fully unpacked room and to the cafeteria slash dining room slash they didn’t know what everyone actually called it but Sage said it was were they ate, they were entirely lost in their own head. As such it was a surprise when they nearly tripped over another human, only staying upright due to the size of them compared to Clove. Ugly tie, weird buttons, Chamber! Chamber had smacked into them and acted as a sort of wall to stop their descent to the freshly waxed ground. “Ayeeeee,” Clove hissed out similarly to when one would touch a hot pan. " Sorry, too excited over some grub, thank you for graciously stopping my descent!” And without even waiting for Chamber’s response they were off once again.

Chamber was far too used to the new hyper agents that called the protocol home. Gekko was more than enough on most days, Iso was getting there, and Phoenix had been there since he’d joined. The sniper wasn’t exactly opposed to those of more ‘active’ nature than his own, but it was very unpredictable which meant it required extra thinking. Chamber was a master of thinking on his feet, expecting the unexpected, but when it was a loud chattery ball of energy in his face that was a different story. He could talk his way around them but they frequently backed him into a corner both verbally and literally. Jett was one that loved nothing more than to catch him just when he was leaving the workshop, trapping him at the dead end that was the engineering wings hallway. One day it was asking him what he was doing, another it was pestering him to cook for her, one time she had even made him fix a hole in her hoodie, absolutely refusing to let him go to bed without doing so at the threat of tears. The other agents pestering didn’t annoy him, but it did inconvenience him more often than not. With each new addition was another new impression and the chance to make a valuable connection, but with how broad Valorants recruitment standards were it made it hard to prepare for new additions in his routine.

The newest agent, as far as he was aware with their brief mission together, was another such up beat individual. The one thing that set the vibrant agent apart was that, despite lacking combat experience, they seemed to throw caution to the wind. Chamber absolutely avoided getting shot, even with people like Sage or Skye around, but Clove seemed to consider it an inevitability, something that was going to happen so it might as well happen now. Every shot, be it from him or at him, mattered for Chamber but Clove? Clove could miss every shot and would be just as happy as they were when they were talking Gekko’s ear off. It made sense why they were placed on a team with Chamber, but it was also a liability he still needed to adjust to.

Chamber was rarely the head of missions, Viper didn’t trust him enough, so when ever he did get the honor of doing so he knew it was testing something or someone. He was strategic, calculated, had years of experience in the field, and that unfortunately made him perfect to get stuck with inexperienced new recruits. Deadlock had been an absolute treat to work with and to help get up to speed. The woman had even gone through the proper route to request a custom weapon from him, something he was more than happy to accommodate given her attitude as well as honesty. If only more newbies could be like her and less like the chaos that was at least half of the Protocol.When Clove had thrown them self in front of his scope and in the way of a waiting bullet with a smile it had shocked him. When Clove had come crashing into him on his was back to his room it had not. Little horns almost jabbed his chest as they ran into him with a dull thud. Bright blue eyes shinned up at him with a goofy smile that could put Raze to shame before buzzing off just as quickly as they had collided. Chamber could only shake his head and sigh, adjusting his tie as he continued on his way. What was a tiny annoyance was that the new agents kept being placed closer and closer to his own dwelling. When he joined everyone was somewhat spaced out but had agents with similar jobs clustered in the same general area. Four doors down was Killjoy, at the very front of the hall was Sage, Cypher lived in his office but Chamber was sure his room was nestled some where, and Deadlocks room was mirroring Killjoys. Chamber was blissfully shoved at the end of the hall in a slightly larger than normal room per his request to accommodate his various tools and equipment. When Gekko arrived he was placed originally only two rooms away from Chamber but was moved else where when his ‘little buddies’ started trying to chew through walls and invade the vacant rooms. Clove had been placed with a mere one room buffer between them and Chamber. Chamber valued his peace when he could get it and by the day that seemed less and less likely to ever happen again. Clove had been loud when they moved in, they were loud when they moved about, it nearly made him miss when Raze would sneak to Killjoy’s room at the odd hours of the morning. Of course any of his complaints could and would be written off due to Clove still settling in and Chamber being, well, Chamber.

Entering his room Chamber was met with blissful silence. First off was his tie and then vest, not fully changing into his lounge wear but still freeing himself some so he could relax. It was only noon so he was sure the bundle of energy that was their newest agent would be back sooner than later which meant a nap was off the table. He could read or he could throw relaxing out the window and instead go to the firing range, maybe he could even reserve one of the baths for a soak and stew. As his mind considered the options he had drifted off which only allowed his previous worries to come to fruition. With a loud whistle and a bang of something falling over, Clove made their way back to their room the automatic door muffling the sound of a slew of curses none of which he understood but that the tone conveyed was something said in rage.

With his too short nap cut even more short Chamber decided the firing range would be his best bet to both waste time and let off steam. Placing his vest back on as well as his tie he grabbed the weapon case that was mounted on his wall, slinging it over his shoulder as he left his room. Passing Cloves door he heard their music bleeding through into the hall, it only encouraging him to walk faster as he started to realize he recognized it a bit too well for his liking.

[hollowbutcanlove]

Correspondence with Valorant agents Pt.4

[onlyfrags]

Masterlist

Last Updated: 5/24/2024

| Key: ✿ → SFW | ✦ → NSFW | β → Omegaverse | ⚠︎ → Dark content |

If you see someone you want that is not on this list, feel free to send me a request at any time! Just make sure to read the [Request Rules]

Brimstone

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Chamber

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Clove

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Cypher

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Deadlock

Fics

*Untitled* | NSFW x GN Reader (In progress)

Scenarios

None...Yet

Fade

Fics

Coffee talk | NSFW X GN Reader (IN PROGRESS)

Scenarios

None...Yet

Gekko

Fics

Reunions | Gekko X GN Reader (in Progress)

Scenarios

None...Yet

Harbor

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Iso

Fics

Self Worth | Iso x Reader (in Progress) Iso is so used to being a weapon for others. What happens when someone reminds him that hes worth more than that now?

After work | NSFW x Reader (In progress) You and Iso help each other relax after another stressful mission

Scenarios

None...Yet

Jett

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Neon

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Omen

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Sage

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Sova

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Viper

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

None...Yet

Yoru

Fics

None...Yet

Scenarios

✿ Yoru X Draconic Radiant S/O | Yoru X Male Reader ✿

[buraikans]

its me…. THE TEXPOSTER (evil laugh)

[starkura]

headcanons for some of the valorant agents just cus

cypher: had a pet rabbit but he had to give it away because of his workload since rabbits needed a lot of attention

sage: matcha lover

neon: she shares her adobo with the other agents to try (however the adobo is very spicy)

chamber: zero spice tolerance

iso: secret wave to earth lover

brimstone: facebook and instagram reels enjoyer

clove: stays up super late binge watching kdramas until the sun rises

gekko: go to boba tea flavor is taro

jett: hates the cold despite having wind abilities

yoru: mortal kombat lover

fade: lowkey into sanrio highkey keeps it a secret

kj: plays fortnite and duos with raze

[nyctophiliq]

can i get some ideas au's that fit your favorite characters (that I write for which you can check for here) ? i wanna get some drabbles out there about aus :p something like motorcycle mechanic! claire redfield

[jesjokes]

My agent head canons :3

☆☆☆

Brimstone: he’s such a supportive dad but also I could see him being a bear

Phoenix: Bisexual trans man

Sage: probably bisexual definitely a woman liker and trans fem

Sova: Trans man and mlm (hes so in love with harbor t4t)

Viper: Lesbian. No other way around that

Cypher: demiboy and 100% pan he doesn’t care and maybe poly

Rayna: bi and Demi girl

Killjoy: in lesbians with Raze 😻/ref also agender

Breach: trans bear 🙏 bi

Omen: aroace and agender, even pre accident he doesn’t seem like he’d be into anyone that and prefer platonic relationships and doesn’t fuck with gender

Jett: she likes women there’s no way (also trans fem)

Raze: lesbian

Skye: definitely Bi

Yoru: trans masc nb and mlm

Astra: non binary and pan

Kay/O: robot :3 (hes supportive and maybe a little fruity)

Chamber: token straight/J (hes the gayest of them all 🇫🇷) no but Fr he’s probably bi and a trans man

Neon: pan and non binary

Fade: butch lesbian (please save me 🙏)

Harbor: bi and leans towards men also trans man

Gekko: 100% trans masc nb and gay (hes so nb4nb with Iso)

Deadlock: Butch agender lesbian (again PLEASE save meee 🙏🙏🙏😋😋)

Iso: trans masc non-binary aroaceflux

Clove: amab Non binary and pan

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (33)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, assassination attempt, misunderstanding, physical violence, swearing, mention of killing a lot of people ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After everything that had happened between them upon her arrival in Harrenhal she and her uncle were one naked, sweaty, welted mess, so she was relieved when her husband demanded that a bath be prepared for them immediately.

They lay covered in furs, bare and without strength, waiting for his servants to fill the tub with hot water, embracing each other half asleep, his hand resting on her womb, entwined with her fingers.

What they had dreamed of as children had come true.

They were going to become parents.

When the servants informed them that the bath was ready, her husband hummed under his breath, informing them in a hoarse, low voice not to disturb him while he was with his wife with any matters. They only got up when they were left alone in his chamber.

Her uncle sank into the clove-scented water first, pulling her behind him, eager to have her close to him. She took her place between his thighs, snuggling wordlessly into his chest and closed her eyes, hearing the birdsong from outside the window and the quiet beat of his heart under her cheek. She smiled as his hand went to her lower abdomen, trailing his fingers over it.

"− the gods are gracious to us − they support our cause −" He whispered, placing a tender, lingering kiss on her hair, from which heat spread inside her chest. She nodded, stroking his upper arm, smiling involuntarily under her breath.

"− I wish to spend the day with you − I will order whatever you desire to be prepared for the supper −" He murmured, taking an unruly strand of her hair from her face. She lifted her gaze to him and kissed his jaw − her husband leaned towards her and their lips joined in a warm, sticky kiss.

"− I wish Baela would dine with us −" She whispered, raising her hand to his cheek. His nostrils twitched uneasily in frustration at her words, his eyelid closed as her fingers ran over his warm skin.

"− why? −" He asked coldly, clearly struggling not to show his irritation.

"− if it wasn't for her, my mother wouldn't have allowed me to come here − she protected me and our child in the sky −" She explained calmly. She saw that he looked at her and rolled his eyes, frustrated. He sighed quietly, pressing his lips into a thin line and nodded.

"− so be it −"

"− where is Alys? −" She asked hesitantly. Her husband looked away, impatient, and ran his hand over his face.

"− she is locked in her chamber −"

"− I wish to see her − perhaps tomorrow, when I…−"

"− no − I spared her because you asked me to, but only for this reason − in return I demand that you do not go near her − she is a dangerous woman −" He said quickly, tense, not looking at her, she felt his heart pounding like mad under her hand.

"− she helped me − she tried to protect me −" She muttered, not understanding where his rage and the harshness of his judgement came from. His dark, impatient gaze made her raise her shoulders in a defensive gesture.

She saw that he was trying not to explode.

"− she told you that she tried to seduce me behind your back by saying that she would carry my bastard child? − hm? − that prediction she didn't share with you? −" He hissed, seeing the shock and disbelief that appeared on her face, she felt her stomach tighten into a knot.

She swallowed hard, feeling her lower lip start to tremble, her heart began to pound like crazy, for some reason her eyes filled with tears.

What?

Seeing the look on her face his gaze softened − he sighed heavily and shook his head as if cursing himself for letting those words leave his lips, his hand stroked her cheek reassuringly.

"− it's a lie − she was hoping I'd betray you, that I'd hurt you − I'm convinced this was part of Strong's plan − to distract me, to leave you alone and broken-hearted − the affection I have for you is a hindrance to him −" He explained, looking straight into her eyes, wiping her warm, wet tears from her rosy cheeks with his thumb. She stroked his chest, thinking hard, feeling horribly betrayed and humiliated.

She trusted her.

"− did you speak with her? − after you conquered Harrenhal? −" She muttered, and he sighed heavily, twisting in his seat with a quiet splash of water.

"− yes − I wanted to draw out of her why she did it −"

"− you didn't tell me about her words − you hid it from me −"

"− because that's what she wanted − to plant uncertainty in my heart and yours −"

"− how am I supposed to trust you if every day I find out that there is still something I don't know about? −" She asked in a breaking voice on the verge of sobbing, grabbing the edges of the tub, wanting to get up, however his arms locked her in an iron grip, forcing her to fall between his thighs again.

"− if it wasn't for your request, she would already be dead −"

"− only dead will she give you the confidence that you will not do what she prophesied? −"

She felt him let the air out loudly through his nose, furious, but she didn't dare look at him feeling that her whole body was trembling.

"− do you want to argue over the words of that treacherous whore whose life you yourself asked me to spare? −"

"− I didn't know −"

"− so you fucking know now −" He growled impatiently.

They both just breathed heavily for a moment − she could feel his piercing gaze on her, his hands clenched painfully tight on her arms, refusing to let her move away.

She couldn't explain why she just burst into tears like a little child, his hand sinking into her hair and pressing her face against his chest, a place where she could hide, where she was safe.

She snuggled into him, seeking comfort and reassurance that what she had spoken of was nothing more than her invention, that what she and Helaena had predicted did not matter in this case.

That there was no way he could have ever betrayed her.

Wasn't it?

"− no more secrets, Rhaenys −"

She heard his calm, deep voice.

"− you know everything now − I am bare before you, not just with my body − you see me as I am −"

She was silent for a moment, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart under her cheek, his fingers trailing slowly over her body, around them the quiet splash of water that had long since cooled.

"− when you were not by my side, I had nightmares − I dreamt that you were dying, each time through my fault − I dreamt it because it is what I dread the most − in the years that you have been in Dragonstone a cold, black emptiness has burned in me − I have felt nothing − I have experienced nothing − my mother placed the daughters of the lords under my nose, and all I could think of when I looked at them was that they were not similar enough to you − they couldn't or didn't want to understand my true nature − they didn't see me −"

She swallowed hard feeling her heart leap up into her throat, her fingers digging harder into his wet, hot flesh. She closed her eyes as he locked her with the secure, tight embrace of his arms, sighing loudly, pressing his forehead against hers.

"− I am tired, Rhaenys − I am exhausted − since that night, when I tamed Vhagar, I have had no peace, no rest − only with you, then, in that chamber beneath the Red Keep, when I fell asleep by your side − I −" He muttered and fell silent, as if unable to find the right words, to explain what was running through his mind and heart.

She thought there was something about that moment, about their bodies entwined in a tender embrace filled with longing, that filled her with peace.

"− I'll speak with her − alone −"

She whispered and rose again, stepping out of the bath without a word. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her husband cover his face with his hand, his jaw clenched in anger and grief.

"− my words mean nothing to you? −"

"− it's not about you, uncle − I have to do it for myself −"

On her uncle's orders, the guards led her to the chamber of the Witch of Harrenhal. When the door opened before her she was surprised to see how modest the room was, consisting only of a small bed, a wooden chest and dresser, a table and two chairs on which lay various objects − herbs, books, parchments and vessels.

Alys Rivers rose immediately from the bed on seeing her − she swallowed hard at the thought that there were bruises on her face, it seemed to her that she was thinner than when she had last seen her. The woman bowed before her.

"Princess. I hoped you would come." She whispered.

For some reason she felt sadness and discomfort in her stomach at her words.

"You predicted my husband would give birth to your bastard child."

Alys pressed her lips together at her words, looking her straight in the eye.

"I lied. I saw nothing of the sort neither in my dreams nor in the fire."

"How dare you lie to my husband, and your Prince?" She asked dryly, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her trembling hands folded over her womb. Alys looked into that place with a blank stare.

"You are expecting his child."

She did not bother to respond, waiting for an answer to her question. Alys sighed heavily.

"My brother had plans for you. He ordered me to seduce the Prince. He wanted you to step aside and try to take your own life again."

She swallowed hard at her words, feeling a drop of cold sweat run down her neck at her words.

"You didn't tell me about this."

"No."

"You and my husband. You are identical." She muttered in a trembling voice. Alys smiled sadly.

"Yes. Yes, we are."

She felt her eyebrows arch in pain, her lower lip trembled.

"I believed you."

"I regret not telling you. I didn't want to destroy your already strained trust in him." She explained, lowering her gaze to the stone floor beneath her feet.

There was a long silence between them.

"Did you make an attempt?"

Alys lifted her gaze to her, furrowing her brow, clearly not understanding her question.

"Your Grace?"

"Did you try to seduce him?"

"No. I didn't go near him."

"Why?"

"Because he would have killed me. I just wanted your husband to make the right decision. For him to be scared of what might happen, to try to change the future. For him to tell you about what's happening here."

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart in her throat at the thought that her uncle had told her everything then, that night because he was afraid Alys' words would come true.

"I believed you. I opened my heart to you." She muttered in a breaking voice, unable to believe how she could be so naïve after what had happened to her. It seemed to her that something akin to discomfort flashed across the Witch of Harrenhal's face, her gaze lowered in shame.

"I know."

An awkward, unbearable silence fell between them.

She felt like an fool, a stupid little girl who could be twisted around anyone's finger, who was mocked by others behind her back, who looked on in disbelief at how easily she was manipulated, made to forget, to forgive.

Although she tried with all her might to remain composed, a single tear of helplessness and fatigue ran down her cheek hot with shame.

Alys Rivers' black eyebrows arched in sadness at the sight, her lips tightened as did her hands on her stomach. She swallowed hard, analysing apparently in her head what she wanted to say.

"− there are still people in this fortress who will want to kill you − especially beware of the young, fair-haired man − don't eat or drink anything he serves you −" She said quickly making her completely freeze with her rapidly beating heart.

"− why didn't you tell my husband about this? −" She muttered in disbelief, hearing her own voice tremble.

"− I saw this boy when I was moved back to my chamber − the Prince didn't want to see me anymore then − this servant brought me poisoned food several times, a gift from my brother −" She explained, and she looked at her shocked.

Was that why she was so thin?

Was the food and drink she was served here poisoned?

She swallowed hard at the thought, horrified that neither she nor her husband were safe anymore.

"My husband gave Harrenhal to me to rule. That means I will decide what happens to the people who serve here, including you." She said slowly, the expression on Alys' face not changing one bit, as if she had expected her words.

"I saw it in a dream. A stone castle reaching to the skies. That's where you'll send me away." She said softly. She nodded at her words.

"I will not forget what you have done for me, that you warned me. As an expression of my gratitude you will be given gold, and by my order all your belongings will be moved to the Eyrie. My cousin, after spies were discovered in his fortress, is indebted to my family and will receive you with honours. I will introduce you in my letter as a valuable medic who should work alongside the maester. You will not lack anything there." She explained and fell silent, looking at the woman all tense, fearing that she would resist, that she would try to manipulate her.

Alys Rivers, however, remained silent and merely nodded.

She decided that there was nothing more left for them to say so she left her chamber, ordering that she be prepared for her journey that would take place in a few days.

When she returned to his husband's quarters, he rose from his seat, tense. He watched her with a wary gaze, glancing at her as she sat down behind his desk, taking parchment and quill in her hands.

"− what did she tell you? −" He asked coldly, his hands clenched into fists.

He was terrified, she could feel it, and she liked how much power she now had over him.

She was carrying his child inside her, on top of which she had the right to hold a lot of grudges against him, so she had the right to expect her wish to be a command to him.

"The truth. I am writing a letter to my cousin in the Eyrie to accept Alys into his fortress as a medic." She replied calmly, sinking the tip of her quill into the ink, beginning to write.

She heard her husband swallow hard, surprised.

"Good." He replied at last, as if relieved, evidently thinking the woman would cause more problems.

She did not reply, focused on what she wanted to include in her letter.

Her husband paced around the room, trying to draw her attention to him, but she did not lift her gaze to him, wanting to punish him in this way.

She knew that he was revealing himself to her more and more, that he was vulnerable, loving her more than ever before now, that she was beside him and his legacy was growing inside her womb.

When she had finished writing she rolled up the parchment, sealed it and ordered one of the servants to send it immediately to Vale.

She waited impatiently for supper, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart. She was starving, but had not eaten anything before the evening despite her uncle's tentative interventions suggesting that she was certainly hungry.

Baela had no gowns with her to change into, so she arrived at the appointed time in her uncle's chamber in her riding attire, her white curls combed into a braid. She smiled towards her husband in a way from which he pressed his lips together in displeasure, turning his head away, tapping his finger on the table top.

"Dear cousin. My congratulations. You are going to become a father." She said softly, trying with her tone to feign any warm feelings towards his person. Her uncle nodded, without looking at her or saying a single word in her direction.

Their cousin sat down across from her, smiling broadly at her, and she reciprocated the gesture and nodded to the servant to begin serving them their food. She pressed her lips together when, one by one, men began to enter with large silver trays − one of them matched Alys' description.

She swallowed hard, lowering her gaze as he placed the jug of wine right next to her, a smile on his face that she could mistake for cordiality.

"Your Grace?" He asked, and she nodded.

She watched quietly as the boy filled her cup halfway with wine. He wanted to move away, but she shook her head.

"More." She demanded − her husband and Baela twisted in their seats, concerned.

"Is that wise? In your condition…" Her uncle muttered, but she threw him a quick, impatient look.

When her goblet was full, she raised it high towards the man who was about to move away from her, setting the jug down on the table.

"Drink."

The boy smiled shyly, as if he didn't understand what she said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Drink. To the bottom."

There was an awkward, tense silence all around.

"I am not worthy, Your Grace. I would not dare." He muttered, all pale, his lower lip trembling.

"I order you to drink it all to the last drop." She hissed with emphasis, feeling her hand quiver with rage.

"I can't, Your Grace, I…"

"FUCKING DRINK IT." She heard the growl of her husband as he rose from the table, his eye wide open, his chest rising and falling rapidly in accelerated, enraged breath.

The boy shook his head and whimpered as her uncle moved towards him, his face cold, tense.

"Hold him." He ordered, two of his guards moving towards him, grabbing his shoulders. The boy shook his head, terrified.

"N-no, Your Grace. I can't drink wine. It affects me badly. I might die."

Her husband took her cup from her and grinned at him in a way that made her feel the cold sweat on her back, her heart in her throat.

"I'd love to see this." He sneered, grabbing him violently by the jaw, tilting his head back. He dug his fingers into his cheeks forcing him to open his mouth and then forcibly poured the contents of the entire goblet down his throat, ignoring the tears that streamed down his cheeks.

She looked at the scene, thinking in disbelief that he was holding him exactly like the guards who poured moon tea down her throat then, in the Red Keep.

Although it shouldn't have, a hot, wonderful feeling of satisfaction spread through her heart.

The man wept heavily when he let him go, thinking it was over, however, her uncle grabbed the jug and filled the goblet again − the boy began to beg him, trying to fall to his knees before him, however, her husband's face was cold and no hope of forgiveness lurked in his healthy eye.

By the time her husband forced him to swallow another cup of wine something began to happen to him − his face turned purple, his eyes red, his breath caught in his throat as if he was choking, his mouth wide open.

When he wheezed and fell to his knees, Baela got up from her seat, holding her hand to her chest, terrified as trickles of blood began to drip from his mouth.

Her husband stared at the sight with his jaw clenched, shaking with rage.

"Gather all the servants in the main hall of the fortress. NOW." He hissed, taking the jug of wine and what was left in it with him.

She wanted to move after him, but Baela's strong grip on her arm stopped her.

"− no − you shouldn't watch this −" She muttered.

"− there could be innocent people in there −"

"− father told me that no one here can be trusted − do you understand? − no one − let him do the right thing − let him act like a man −"

Baela stayed with her and lay with her in his bed. She snuggled up to her cousin, listening to the terrifying, empty silence around them.

Baela swallowed hard and began to sing a song in the language of their ancestors − the melody was melancholic, the words told of longing for what had been lost.

Of Old Valyria.

She didn't even know when she fell into a restless, deep sleep in her arms.

She flinched when she felt Baela rise, heard her whisper as if through a fog.

"− she just fell asleep −"

"− mmm −" She heard someone murmur and felt that a man's broad hand stroked her hair.

"− you may return to your chamber now − I have assigned you guards from King's Landing − they will watch over your safety all night −"

Baela slipped out of her embrace and stood up − instead another figure lay down beside her, larger, her scent familiar, beloved. She sighed quietly as the arms she knew so well embraced her, her hands tightening on his leather tunic.

"− uncle −" She muttered, lifting her head, seeing nothing in the darkness. She felt his warm, full lips on her cheek, where they placed a lingering, warm kiss.

"− shhh, my love − sleep − no one will threaten you anymore −"

"− are they dead? −"

"− yes, my love −"

"− all of them? −"

"− yes −"

"− and what about Alys? −"

"− her life belongs to you −"

"− thank you −" She whispered.

Alys was the only reason she was still alive.

"− embrace me, Rhaenys −" He whispered, in his voice sadness, grief and weariness so deep she felt her heart squeeze. She embraced him at the waist, entwining his legs with hers, sinking her face into his neck, his hands clasped in her hair and back.

"− how did you know? −" He asked quietly.

"− she told me − she warned me again −"

Her uncle sighed heavily and kissed the top of her head again.

"− I could have lost you − you and the baby − I thought we were safe here − but I promise no one threatens you anymore − I will choose new servants myself −"

She nodded at his words and sighed quietly when she felt his hand slide between their bodies, touching her lower abdomen.

"− I will love our offspring − even if a little girl with your dark hair is born − I will love her because she will be my beloved wife's gift to me and our kingdom −" He whispered so tenderly and warmly that she involuntarily felt tears of emotion and relief under her eyelids.

She didn't even know how much she needed to hear it.

Confirmation that he wouldn't be upset when she disappointed everyone and gave birth to not a son, but a daughter.

"− I want to give you seven children − as many as there are gods −" She hummed, stroking his hand lying on her womb with her own. She heard him snort under his breath, she knew he was smiling.

"− after this, will you stop letting me between your thighs? −" He asked with feigned resentment, even though they both knew now that they were adults that bringing seven children into the world could prove to be a task that would require a lot of effort on her part, including that of childbirth.

"− I fear no force will stop my uncle from reaching for what he desires −" She said softly, lifting her head to look at him, meeting his amused, warm gaze.

He had no eye patch on, his sapphire eye shining dangerously in the darkness of his chamber.

"Indeed." He murmured, his thumb running over the soft skin of her cheek making a pleasant shiver pass through her.

"Let us not return to King's Landing or Dragonstone." He whispered. "Let us stay in Harrenhal. Let us create our own legacy. Give birth to our child here. Neither of us will feel like prisoners then."

She blinked, feeling the heat spill over her insides at his words, so thoughtful and yet full of understanding and devotion.

He wanted them to have something that belonged only to them, their refuge, their own fortress, a place for their own family.

Neither the Greens nor the Blacks.

The Targaryens ruling Harrenhal.

[soracities]

would you be willing to share books or poems with your favorite or even pretty writing / prose? thank you 😊

oh Absolutely

books!

A Moth to a Flame, Stig Dagerman

For Two Thousand Years, Mihail Sebastian

The Bloody Chamber, Angela Carter

Her Body and Other Parties, Carmen Maria Machado

The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros

The Waves, Virginia Woolf

Mrs Dalloway, Virginia Woolf

The Sea, John Banville

The Tenderness of Wolves, Stef Penney

Possession, A.S. Byatt

The Memory Police, Yoko Ogawa

The Thirteenth Tale, Diane Setterfield

The Book of Delights, Ross Gay

Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys

i am lewy, Eoghan Ó Tuairisc

A Tale for the Time Being, Ruth Ozeki

Seiobo There Below, Laszlo Krasznahorkai

The History of Love, Nicole Krauss

The Carpenters Pencil, Manuel Rivas

Books Burn Badly, Manuel Rivas (full disclosure: the language in this book is HARD)

How the Soldier Repairs the Gramophone,  Saša Stanišić

From A to X: A Story in Letters, John Berger

Tess of the d'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy

A Thousand Splendid Suns, Khaled Hosseini

Still Life with Oysters and Lemon, Mark Doty

The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera

Paris, When It's Naked, Etel Adnan

A Ghost in the Throat, Doireann Ní Ghríofa

Four Bare Legs in a Bed: Stories, Helen Simpson

South of the Border, West of the Sun, Haruki Murakami

A Field Guide to Getting Lost, Rebecca Solnit

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, Patrick Süskind

The Things We Don't Do, Andrés Neuman

We Love Glenda So Much and Other Tales, Julio Cortázar

Letters to a Young Poet, Rilke

All We Saw, Anne Michaels (poetry)

Collected Poems of Vasko Popa, Vasko Popa (poetry)

Barefoot Souls, Maram al-Masri (poetry)

Without an Alphabet, Without a Face, Saadi Youssef (poetry)

poems!

"In Spite of Everything, the Stars" by Edward Hirsch

"I Can Tell You a Story" by Chuck Carlise

"The Roses of Saadi" by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore

"The Stare" by Sujata Bhatt

"Stolen Moments" by Kim Addonizio

"Moonlight Sonata" by Yannis Ritsos

"No Title Required" by Wislawa Szymborska

"I Sleep A Lot" by Czeslaw Milosz

"Prayer for the Mutilated World" by sam sax

"Try to Praise the Mutilated World" by Adam Zagajewski

"I Cannot be Known" by Paul Eluard

"The Cinnamon Peeler" by Michael Ondaatje

"Filling Spice Jars as Your Wife" by Kai Coggin

"Persimmons" by Li-Young Lee

"This Room and Everything in It" by Li-Young Lee

"When We With Sappho" by Kenneth Rexroth

"On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous" by Ocean Vuong

"Not Even This" by Ocean Vuong

"Elegy of Fortinbras" by Zbigniew Herbert

"Wedding Poem" by Ross Gay

"Transformations of the Lover" by Adonis

"Cloves" by Saadi Youssef

"Punishment" by Seamus Heaney

"I've Dreamed of You So Much" by Robert Desnos

"Bleecker Street, Summer" by Derek Walcott

"Cave Dwellers" by A. Poulain Jr.

"De Humani Corporis Fabrica" by John Burnside

"The Great Fires" by Jack Gilbert

"The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart" by Jack Gilbert

[hollowbutcanlove]

Correspondence with Valorant agents Pt.2

TW: foul language

[littlest-w01f]

Sunlight

Helion x Alora

HELION MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Helion is low on staff for his libraries, Rhysand casually mentions to him he knows of someone who wishes to try to go out of the House of Winds' library

Cw: None

A/n: Edit after @nox-ceur's comment, here's the breakfast, Enjoy :)

part one - part two- part three

As the morning sun casts a warm glow through the chamber's windows, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, mingling with the scent of sizzling bacon and toast.

On the table, a bowl brimming with ripe strawberries gleams under the sunlight that beamed through the windows, their deep red hue promising a burst of sweet tanginess with each bite.

A plate heaves with golden-brown pancakes, their surface dotted with dollops of melting butter and drizzled with a rich maple syrup. A side dish of scrambled eggs, fluffy and tender, beckons with its creamy yellow hue, while slices of crisp bacon lay scattered like a constellation of savoury gold across another plate.

The golden pastries, so flaky and buttery, filled with sweet berries.

Alora gasped softly, seeing everything Helion had set on her plate, "Wow... This is so much..." Her curiosity peaked at seeing the different forms of pastries.

"Well, a good day should start with a healthy breakfast." Helion smiled, pouring some morning tea for her.

With a warm smile, Helion poured Alora a cup of freshly brewed tea. The steam rising from the cup carried the aroma of cinnamon and cloves, adding a hint of spice to the already tantalizing scents wafting from the table.

He watched as she carefully picked up a piece of pancake, holding it daintily between two fingers before bringing it to her lips. The sound of her soft sigh of pleasure echoed through the room, making his heart skip a beat.

He leaned back in his seat opposite hers slightly, admiring her delicate movements. His gaze lingered on her full lips, now glistening with traces of syrup, he looked away before he found himself imagining other ways those lips could be used.

"Helion," Alora spoke, her voice soft, pulling him out of his fantasies, "Will I be working in the library as usual? Like I used to in Night or are there..."

"…new responsibilities awaiting you here?" Helion finished her sentence, his expression thoughtful as he considered how best to utilize her skills within the Day walls.

"You've been an invaluable asset to Rhys, Alora," Helion began. "I envision you taking on more leadership roles, perhaps mentoring younger scholars."

"Of course, your time will still be divided between the library and other pursuits. We must ensure you maintain that spark of curiosity and creativity that makes your contributions so valuable." Helion's eyes locked onto hers, conveying a silent promise that he would always prioritize her well-being and growth, both academically and personally.

Helion's smile returned, softer this time. "Don't worry, my sunshine. You'll still have access to it whenever you desire. And with you being a Priestess, I doubt anyone would give you a hard time."

Alora began to speak but Helion's eyes almost darkened 5 shades, "If any of the staff here bothers you in any way, you come straight to me, alright? I have already asked them to behave." He sighed, his eyes soft again, "I won't handle your - or anyone's - mistreatment here, especially yours." He added, "Since you aren't from Day Court."

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing a promise that left no room for misinterpretation. Helion was prepared to protect her, to make her feel safe and comfortable.

Helion leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. "You're a part of this Court now, sunshine, our family."

"I appreciate that, Helion," Alora replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It means a lot coming from you. I know I'm not familiar with the customs and dynamics here, but I'll do my best to adapt and fit in. But I don't wish to be treated like a breakable object, or be treated with child's hands."

He reached across the table, his hand covering hers. "You are a valued member of this court, and we will respect your boundaries and autonomy. You have my word on that."

Their gazes met, and for a moment, the unspoken connection between them crackled with tension. Then, Helion cleared his throat and looked away, breaking the spell. "Now, finish your breakfast, sunshine. And tell me, how do you enjoy your pancakes and treats? Do they meet your standards?"

Alora walked the halls and found her way to the libraries from Helion, where she would be working. Intimidating wouldn't even begin to describe it, the libraries were ten times the size they had been in the House of Winds, going on like a maze for as long as the eye could see.

As Alora wandered deeper into the labyrinthine halls of the vast library, she felt a sense of awe wash over her. It wasn't just the sheer size that was overwhelming, but the knowledge contained within these walls. She could spend a lifetime exploring and still find new treasures.

Her steps took her down row after row of towering bookshelves, each shelf laden with ancient tomes and scrolls. The scent of old paper and ink filled her senses, a comforting familiarity amidst the unfamiliar surroundings.

She paused occasionally to glance at titles, reading snippets of information that piqued her interest. There were histories, philosophies, sciences, and tales of fantastical lands that stretched beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

"Hmm, you're on time, I thought you might be late." Anahita greeted Alora as she came to her, there was a large steel canteen of water in her hand, "Good."

Anahita's tone was firm, yet there was a hint of warmth beneath her stern exterior. She appraised Alora critically, taking in her appearance and demeanour. She led the way deeper into the library, navigating the winding paths with ease. "Today, you'll be focusing on the cataloguing and organization of our collection. It's a tedious task, but an essential one for maintaining the integrity of our archives."

As they walked, Anahita continued to speak, providing Alora with instructions and expectations for her role in the library. Her words were clear and direct, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

"So exactly what I used to do for Night?" Alora asked with a smile, her head tipped up to look at the female.

Anahita nodded, "Yes, for the first few days, for you to get used to it." Anahita confirmed, her face relaxing into a slight smile. "We need to make sure you’re acclimatized to our routines and systems before we introduce you to more complex tasks."

"But you know better than to mistake this for easy work," she added, her expression once again serious. "This isn't just about putting things in order, it's about preserving our history, understanding our past, and shaping our future. There is knowledge in these walls dating back till even before the first High King."

Alora was surprised to hear that, "Really?" She looked at the bindings, wanting to read them all.

"Yes, really," Anahita affirmed, her voice carrying a note of reverence. "The knowledge contained within these walls has shaped us, guided us, kept us alive through countless generations."

"It's a responsibility we take very seriously," she concluded, her eyes meeting Alora's. They stopped at a section of shelves that needed organizing. Anahita gestured towards the books littering the floor. "Here, start with these. Make sure they're sorted properly, and add them to the correct sections."

"Alright..." Alora nodded, looking up as she noted the books and books of knowledge.

"I'll leave you to it. Here, take this canteen, and don't forget to drink, the Day sun might get to your head fast." Anahita nodded, handing her the steel canteen filled with cold water, "And stay here so you don't get lost in the maze of the libraries, if you can't help yourself and do get lost, don't forget to scream so we can get to you faster."

Before Alora could ask what Anahita meant, she was gone. Alora watched as Anahita disappeared around a corner, leaving her alone with the daunting task ahead.

She leaned forward, picked up the first book from the pile and examined it closely. Its binding was worn, its pages yellowed with age. She flipped open the cover with gentle hands, her fingers tracing the handwritten notes inside.

There was a certain magic in handling such antiquities, a tangible link to the past. Alora couldn't help but marvel at the dedication and care required to preserve these relics of history.

She got to work, organizing the books by subject matter, alphabetizing authors, and ensuring every detail was accounted for. The process was meticulous, demanding focus and attention to detail.

As Alora worked away, she couldn't help the distraction of the open book, wanting to read what was inside. Alora's curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself opening the book further, scanning the pages for intriguing passages.

The handwriting was elegant, written in old fae tongue, but she managed to decipher the meaning behind the words.

"Heliophilia, love of sunlight," She read, there was a note on the edges with a different handwriting, "Helion, what a perfect name for the Prince of Day."

Alora's eyes widened, this particular book was from the High Lord's direct family line. A small gasp escaped Alora's lips as she realized the significance of the book in her hands. Here, she held a piece of Helion's lineage, a testament to his ancestry. She carefully turned the pages, noting the entries made by various members of the royal family throughout the centuries.

Before she could get lost in the book, she resumed her work, marking the book down, shelving it in the correct place, trying her best not to get distracted.

With renewed determination, Alora returned to her task, meticulously filing the book away alongside others of similar origin and content. Each volume she handled was a piece of history, a window into the lives of people who had lived and loved, fought and died, centuries before her own existence.

The hours passed quickly as she worked, when it was time for lunch a kitchen staff had found her, bringing her food, her mind filled with thoughts of the rich tapestry of life laid out before her. In another few hours, the library had grown quiet around her, only the occasional distant echo of footsteps breaking the silence and she made her way outside.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Sunlight Taglist- @anuttellaa @a-frog-with-a-laptop @lalaluch}

[ahummingbirdwitch]

can i get a very horny and desperate cypher x fem!reader at a party setting in val HQ with him jealous and stuff, veryyyy nsfw please! 🙏🙏🙏🙏 thank you ❣️

Hell yes. I LOVE me some jealous Cypher 😈

SURPRISE SURPRISE, this one is super long because I got, um... a little carried away...

Jealous Jealous Jealous (Cypher x F!Reader)

Summary: There's a party at Valorant HQ and Cypher isn't as attentive a boyfriend as he should be. If he wants to make it up to you, he's gonna have to work for it...

Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,775

Warnings: p in v sex, vaginal fingering, unsafe sex, creampie

Notes: THIS ENDED UP BEING SO MUCH LONGER THAN IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AND I AM POSTING THIS AT 3:36AM

Cypher didn’t do parties, and neither did Valorant. Not really, anyway.

There were little soirees here and there, small team events and even the occasional birthday celebration in the common room, but never full-out parties. Typically, if agents wanted a party, they’d have one outside of HQ. It wasn’t exactly a prime location for having fun.

Tonight, though, there was a party, and it had explicitly been called such. You’d approached him about it the other day, explaining that it had something to do with the newest agent, Clove; apparently the young Scot had decided to throw one as a way of getting to know the other agents, and Brim, oddly enough, had agreed to let them use one of the spare rooms for the event. Perhaps he’d become desperate to boost morale lately.

You’d spoken eagerly of attending the party, but Cypher had been less enthusiastic. He’d already gathered enough information about Clove—having done his research long before they’d even arrived at HQ—and he was far too busy working on his latest device. Besides, he figured practically no one would show up. With so many agents occupied and scattered across the globe, Clove would be lucky to have even a quarter of the protocol in attendance.

“You have fun, my dear,” he’d told you earlier that evening. “Do tell me how it goes.”

“Guess I will,” you’d responded, letting out a soft sigh just before leaving the room. He’d returned to his gadgets shortly after, content to spend the rest of the night working away. He’d keep an eye on you, of course. He always did. He had never really enjoyed parties much anyway; he would only hold you back.

Cypher had expected to have an uneventful evening, watching his cameras in between tinkering, but instead, he found himself lurking in the corner of the event room, eyeing you from a distance with a fiery sharpness in his chest.

The party had turned out to be busy after all—shockingly so, with nearly half the protocol present—and he’d watched you flit around all night from his room, happy as a clam as you mingled with the other agents. His interest had grown over the last several hours, seeing you laugh and dance and twirl around in the pretty little dress you’d decided to wear, and finally, it had become too much for him to handle. He’d been an absolute idiot. He needed to come down there now and spend time with you.

And so he had come to see you, entering silently and keeping to the darker corners of the room to not draw too much attention to himself, but when he’d caught sight of you, his stomach had twisted. You were off to one side of the room, talking to Chamber, and that smug bastard was looking at you like the latest designer watch.

Cypher was frozen in place for a good minute, steaming like a tea kettle at boiling point. Of course you weren’t flirting with him—you wouldn’t. But Chamber was a dog masquerading as a gentleman, and he would flirt with you.

He didn’t get to look at you like that. No one got to look at you like that.

It took him a moment to rein himself in—ensuring he wouldn’t wring the Frenchman’s neck as soon as he got over there—but Cypher was quick to start moving, marching across the room towards the two of you. He was in such a rush, he barely noticed Killjoy shooting him a friendly greeting as he passed.

You spotted him as he approached, turning to look at him with round, surprised eyes. “Am—Cypher!” you said, cutting off Chamber, who had been talking. “You’re—here. I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

Cypher came to a halt right in front of you, not hesitating to take your hands in his and pull you closer to him. “Of course,” he said, pointedly ignoring Chamber’s presence. “I wouldn’t miss it, my love.”

You blinked at him, looking almost pleasantly stunned, color creeping into your cheeks. He almost never called you any pet names around others—let alone that one—but he was feeling rather different tonight. Bolder. Territorial.

Chamber cleared his throat. “Ah, Cypher,” he drawled. “So nice of you to join us, monsieur. We were just having a little chat.”

Cypher tightened his grasp on your hands ever so slightly, working to keep his anger in check. “Is that so?” he asked coldly. “What kind of chat?”

Chamber chuckled. “Why, we were just talking about you, actually,” he said. “I was wondering why you had decided not to come. I had believed the two of you were an item, so I was quite surprised to find my friend alone this evening.”

Cypher gritted his teeth. She is my girlfriend, and you are not her friend. She’s your coworker and nothing more! “We are together,” he growled. “And I had— tasks to attend to. But I am here now. That is all that matters.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Chamber responded with a smirk. “Take good care of your petite amie, my friend. It’s quite rude to leave a lady unattended.”

Cypher bristled, wanting nothing more than to punch the other agent right in his stupid glasses, but Chamber was already turning and heading away. Your voice broke him out of his trance. “Amir. You’re hurting me.”

Cypher came to his senses, letting go of your hands. “Shit. I’m—I’m sorry, dear,” he said hurriedly.

“What was that all about?” you asked, concerned. “You seem—agitated.”

Cypher hesitated, suddenly feeling very awkward. He’d only just gotten to the party, and he’d already worked himself up. He needed to focus. He was here to be with you, and have fun. “It’s—nothing,” he replied. “I just—wanted to see you, dear. Right away.”

You weren’t convinced. “Were you… jealous, just now?” you pressed, furrowing your brows. “Of Chamber?”

Cypher did not answer right away, knowing that if he answered “yes,” he would sound like even more of an imbecile than he already felt. “Well, he—he was clearly hitting on you,” he protested.

“Yeah, I got that,” you said flatly. “I’ve been here long enough, Cypher. I know he’s a jackass. I was just about to get rid of him before you showed up.”

Cypher’s heart sank. Perhaps you hadn’t meant it, but you’d called him Cypher instead of his real name. He looked away slightly, shame clawing at him, but his fury from before had not fully dissipated. He knew he’d acted rashly by barging in, but how could he not have? “If you were uncomfortable, then I’m glad I intervened,” he asserted. “I will not stand for that. I will not let him prey on you.”

“Like I’m a piece of meat?” you said, unimpressed. “I can handle a conversation on my own, thank you. Like I can handle most things. You were certainly fine letting me go to the party by myself tonight.”

Burning guilt rose inside him. He should have been able to tell how disappointed you were when he’d told you he wasn’t going. Of course you’d wanted him to go with you. “I’m—I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, reaching for your hands again. “Please, can we—can we go talk? Somewhere private?”

You pursed your lip, still looking thoroughly annoyed. “I don’t know,” you said, sarcasm in your voice. “I don’t really feel like talking anymore. I think I’d rather dance.”

You started to move towards the dance floor, and he stopped you, extending his hand. “No, wait—dance with me, then,” he insisted. He’d never seen you so irritated; frankly, it was worrying him. He was more than ready to make up for all of this—even if he hadn’t danced in years.

You frowned. ��Lots of people here without dance partners,” you said dryly, looking past him. “I’m sure I can find one.”

Cypher stared at you, abashed. You weren’t being serious, were you? You wouldn’t actually dance with someone else—not like that. He looked you up and down, taking in the whole sight of you: your flushed, indignant expression, your pouting mouth, your dress that hugged your body in all the right places—and all at once, his dismay turned to something else—something harder, angrier . Clearly, you were hurt, but surely this—giving him the cold shoulder, threatening to let someone else dance with you, have you to themself—was unnecessary. Cruel, even. He’d already spent most of the night without you, and now that he was here, you were threatening to spend it with someone else?

He was at fault, here, yes, but didn’t he get at least a second to talk to you?

Before he could change his mind, he grabbed you by the wrist, keeping you from getting away. “Come with me,” he ordered. “ Now. ”

You glared at him, fire in your eyes. “What are you doing?” you demanded.

He didn’t answer you, already pulling you towards the exit by the wrist. He dragged you past several agents—many of whom cast baffled glances your way—leading you out of the room and into the hall as you made indignant sounds of protest. At the end of the hall, he pushed you into a secluded corner, pinning you up against the wall.

Cypher held you back by your wrists, making you squeak when he shoved his leg between your thighs. “Give me a minute,” he hissed, “to make it up to you.”

Your eyes were wide, your lips parted in shock and your face vibrant red—from anger, or something else, or both, he couldn’t be sure yet. “What are you doing? ” you asked him again, sounding more confused than upset.

Cypher released your wrists for a moment, just long enough to remove his mask and pull up his undercovering above his mouth. Once he’d set his mask aside, he was upon you again, pressing wet kisses up the length of your neck, his hands keeping you in place. He felt like he was on fire, his body too hot, all his emotions rising to the surface like flames. “I was a fool,” he breathed, kissing your ear before taking it gently between his teeth. “Forgive me, sokar. Please.”

He sucked on your ear, and the hushed moan he drew out of you sent a delighted shiver through him. You bit your lip, as if trying to stifle yourself, but you weren’t fighting him—not even a little. “You’re just—just jealous,” you mumbled.

He felt a sharp pang of shame again. “It’s true I got jealous,” he confessed softly, kissing the underside of your jaw. “I—I wanted to burn him just for looking at you. But—can you blame me, my love?” He let go of one of your wrists, using his free hand to feel the curve of your hip. “You’re so beautiful. How could I not want you all to myself?”

You shuddered slightly, still not resisting him. “Y-You—” you started to say, only to break off into a half-moan when he licked a stripe up your neck. “You didn’t—even notice that I was upset. Earlier…”

Cypher kissed your cheek, his hand moving down to grip your thigh. “I know,” he murmured, every inch of him aching with need—need for you, a need to make you feel good again. “I know, sweetheart. I should have listened. I should have come with you.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Please forgive me, zouina. I’ll do anything for you.”

His hand wandered under the hem of your dress, making its way between your legs, and you let him. He found your panties easily, using two fingers to trace the outside of the fabric, and he nearly cursed aloud at how wet he found it. You let out the softest of whimpers when he made contact, and his cock hardened in his pants. You might not have forgiven him yet, not with words, but you wanted him. And he meant it when he’d said he’d do anything for you.

He caressed you through your panties, making sure to swipe over the sensitive bud at the top. “Let me touch you, kitten,” he coaxed into your ear. “You have my attention now—all of it. Let me take care of you.”

You said nothing for a heartbeat, soundless except for the short little breaths coming out through your mouth, but then, without speaking, you gave him your answer. You closed your eyes and moved your body ever so slightly forward, pressing yourself harder against his fingers. You’d relaxed completely against the wall, still and pliant with your arms up of your own accord.

That was all the permission he needed. Cypher swiftly removed his glove, then slipped one finger under your panties, easily finding your soaked entrance and plunging in. You whined at the penetration, and he took advantage of your open mouth, capturing your lips with his. You moaned into the kiss, bucking your hips as you chased the movement of his finger, and he sucked on your tongue, painfully aware of how much harder he was getting by the second.

“So lovely,” he whispered in between kisses, pumping his finger in and out of you. You were so wet, he could hear you. “My gorgeous girl. I’m yours tonight—all yours.”

You whimpered in response, clawing at the back of his head, losing yourself to the pleasure. He teased your clit with his thumb, and you jerked against him, nipping fiercely at his lower lip. You’d given in to him by now, but that didn’t mean all of your fire from before was gone completely. “Fuck me,” you gasped, breathing harshly. “Right now.”

Your wish was his command. Cypher wrenched his finger from you, then ripped your panties clean off, too desperate for once to care about manners; judging by your lack of reaction to the act, you felt the same. He wasted no time yanking his pants down and freeing his cock, already at full hardness, and used both hands to lift your dress up above your thighs. When he brought his cock to your entrance, testing your opening with his swollen head, he found you more than ready for him, slick and pulsing. He claimed your mouth again as he pushed inside of you, gripping your hips and driving himself in as deep as he could go.

The kiss was rough and messy, and so was the way he fucked you. Cypher pounded into you greedily, relentlessly, needing you, needing your sweet satin walls sucking the life out of him and making him forget how much of an idiot he’d been tonight. He tasted your tongue and swallowed your moans, bruising your thighs as he gave you what you’d demanded from him. He would gladly give his all, give you everything if it meant making you happy again.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but at some point you broke free of the kiss to murmur, as if realizing something, “The—the cameras—”

“I’ll erase the footage,” he panted, stealing your lips back. None of that mattered. Nothing mattered except the two of you right now. His cock was inside you, and it was about to burst.

You seemed to sense it. “Amir,” you whined, raking your nails across his skullcap. “Please—I—”

His heart sang. Amir. Not Cypher. Fuck, he was so close. He wanted to fill your perfect cunt, pump it so full of cum you forgot everything else. He reached down between the two of you and found your clit again, determined to make you feel as good as he was about to. “I love you,” he choked out. “I love you, sokar, cum for me—”

Just a few calculated strokes and you were suddenly there, spasming around his cock and milking him for all he was worth. He moaned helplessly into your mouth as he came, your long wail of pleasure ringing in his ears.

It felt like a lifetime before he could finally think again, the blood rushing back to his brain. Cypher relaxed his grip on your hips and leaned forward, still inside of you, resting his forehead on yours. After a moment, he dared to look into your eyes. Now that you’d been satisfied, were you still angry with him? Had he made up for tonight? Or had he just made everything worse?

To his relief, you held his gaze, and a tiny, weary smile began to form on your face. “Alright,” you said with a sigh. “I forgive you.”

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

"I Will Always Love you, Ser Brienne of Tarth..."

Brienne of Tarth x reader

Warnings: Violence

A/N: This is a mix of multiple asks that I received in January (lmao sorry about the wait). It includes:

@suckerforcate 's ask: "I'd love a brienne x Reader fic/ Prompt: Brienne: Are you flirting with me?/ Reader: you finally noticed?/ Just some cute fluff, love confession, oblivious Brienne etc😘❤"

Anon's ask of a skilled archer and knife thrower (slay katniss and clove) where they end up saving Brienne in some way

“You have to go down to the crypt, Y/N.”

Brienne’s voice was stern and her gaze was harsh as she looked down at the scowl on your face.

“No!” you replied. She was taken aback by your tone as you continued to secure armor to your body. “Winterfell is my home! If you think I am going to give it up without a fight, Brienne, you are sorely mistaken! I think you, out of anyone, should know how important loyalty is!”

Her face softened and her posture relaxed as she sighed. “You’re right…I apologize. I just…I don’t want you hurt. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I know,” you murmur. You look up at her now and your hand goes to her cheek. After placing a kiss over the rouge bleeding into her fair skin, you smile softly at her. “But this is a war, darling. And, physically or not, everyone will get hurt. So why not help where I can?”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said.

In the soft light of your chamber, the two of you stood there. Neither of you said a word as you looked into each other’s eyes. The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fireplace before you opened your mouth to speak. You closed it, pausing before looking back up at her. 

You wanted to say it. You wanted to say it so badly.

“I will always love you, Ser Brienne of Tarth. And I will fight beside you all night if I have to, because you deserve someone like that. You deserve someone who will stick by your side no matter what.”

But you held your tongue. She didn’t need a distraction going into a battle and a love confession would certainly be one. 

You could see the look in her eyes change–but you had no idea what it changed to. As always, she was unreadable, but you were certain there was that shred of affection–perhaps even love. Or perhaps, it was wishful thinking–it was always wishful thinking.

__________

You stood side-by-side on the parapets of Winterfell with the other archers. Watching the Dothrakis, their scythes flaming as they rode fearlessly into battle, you felt a sense of hope. Perhaps there was a chance the living could win this. But it wasn’t until the war cries quieted and every last flame went out that the shrivel of hope that you had felt dried up and flaked away like a leaf in the autumn breeze. In the field, the only light that remained was the bonfires for the catapults. If you scanned the troops hard enough, you could just barely make out the speck that Brienne had become from a distance. 

__________

Everything was ablaze. Still on the parapets, you and your fellow archers aimed your bows down to the surrounding flames. The second wave of the living-dead had surrounded the fortress and now, the Wights were overpowering the living. You desperately hoped that Brienne didn’t fall prey to the White Walkers. The thought of her suffering so much made you sick to your stomach.

“Y/N!” One of the archers yards away called to you. “Behind you!”

In a flash, you aimed your bow and sent an arrow straight through a Wight’s eye before it could pounce on you. 

As soldiers came flooding into the courtyard, chased by Wights, you bounded down the stairs in an attempt to help. It was on those stairs that you scanned the crowd in desperate search for Brienne, and to your relief, you found her towards the front near the entrance, making sure that every man and woman returned safely. As much as you wanted to call for her, to make it known to her that you were still alive, but you wouldn’t dare risk distracting her and putting her in harm's way even more than she already was. So, instead, you rushed down the stairs. 

The bow having no use anymore, you retrieved the valyrian steel throwing knives strapped to your belt. Each one slit the throat of an attacking Wight as you hurried through the hoard of soldiers fighting for their lives. 

Brienne. Where’d Brienne go?

She seemed to have disappeared again. Wights and soldiers alike fell all around you and each one you came upon, you prayed that it wasn’t her. Through the pandemonium, you heard struggling grunts. Looking over, you saw exactly who you were looking for.

Brienne was on the ground with other soldiers, fighting off a swarm of Wights that were beginning to overpower them. You called her name and her head shot up. You sprinted across the courtyard, knives of valyrian steel in hand with the only goal being to save and protect Brienne. Before you knew what was happening, your blade was in the spine of a Wight attacking Brienne.

You reached your hand out and she took it graciously, smiling at you in thanks as she stood up. That night, until the Night King was dead, the two of you remained side-by-side, for if you lived and Brienne died, you would fall to pieces, impossible to glue back together.

__________

Candles lit the dining hall where you sat with Brienne, playing a drinking game with Pod, Tyrion, and Jaime. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Brienne this happy. Her smile never dissipated as she laughed at Tyrion drinking to Brienne’s response to his question. All you could do was look at her with a dazed smile as you admired her, knowing that you will never love someone as much as you do Brienne.

In front of you, Jaime and Tyrion snickered to one another, noticing your infatuation with the woman beside you. When you came out of your daze, you noticed Brienne blushing madly before getting up and leaving the hall. You followed after her moments later, able to hear the laughter of the three men at the table behind you.

Hurrying through the hall, you made it to Brienne’s chambers. You knocked softly on the door and she answered not half a minute later. 

“Oh…erm…hi,” she mumbled.

“Hi,” you replied. “Can I come in?” 

Without hesitation, Brienne let you into her room. A fire roared in the hearth, her clothing from that day on a wooden chair in front of it. Brienne was a creature of habit–one of the many things that you adored about her.

“Are you alright?” you asked carefully. “You left in quite a hurry and I can’t bear to be without you.”

A soft smile appeared on her face, almost as if she was flustered of someone caring about her absence. “I’m alright,” she said. “I promise.”

Silence stood in the room, the pair of you standing almost six feet apart. It wasn’t until the heavy silence became unbearable that Brienne spoke up. “Have you been flirting with me?”

The question shocked you, but your face softened into a smile. “You finally noticed?”

Brienne smiled back, stepping closer this time. I reached for hand, taking it and pulling her forward to truly look at her. Emotion poured from her gaze and she swallowed hard. “You know I’m not good with this stuff…We’ve known each other for years and I’m just now realizing you’ve been flirting this entire time.”

You let out a giggle. “I think I have been since the day I met you.”

She laughed with you, squeezing your hand. “I just don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say a thing,” you muttered, your free hand reaching up to touch her cheek. “I’ll say everything for you.” And, with a deep breath, you finally told her the words that you had desperately wanted to tell her from the beginning.

“I will always love you, Ser Brienne of Tarth…”

[caramel1mochi]

Do you write ships? May i req chamber x yoru if so? Like brimstone makes chamber and yoru train together Im rly curious to see how you’d write chamber. You made him so scary in your chamber x reader ^^;

Heya, thanks for the req! Agent ships are super new to me but I hope I did this one justice. I also wasn't sure if you wanted them together or not so I kinda guessed hahaㅤ I might've gone overboard with this but I missed Chamber don't blame me please

ㅤ [ Yoru x Chamber ]

Words: 1k

Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked.‎ ‎‎ ‎  

ㅤ

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

ㅤ

If you were to describe eternal torture for a few agents, you'd get varying answers. For example, Kay/O feared losing his closest friends, Breach feared eternal imprisonment, Clove feared their immortality catching up to them...

And Yoru?

Well, Yoru had this unreasonable hatred for a peculiar Frenchman dubbed Chamber. And his biggest fear was to forcefully spend more than a few minutes with him, especially alone... Actually, no, it would be just as bad in front of other people.

Anyway, why did he despise Chamber so much? No reason. Well, okay, no discernible reason.

You see, getting any evidence against Chamber was like drawing blood from a stone. That meant that Yoru’s gut feeling that this man was a horrible malignant tumour who had enough money and ‘love for animals’ to cover up how evil he is would remain just that — a gut feeling.

So, in the meantime, Yoru hated Chamber for his haughty persona and… yeah.

In spite of all of this being public knowledge, this fear came true today, and nobody other than Clove was there to comfort him. Actually, no, he wasn’t even sure why they were in the training range with him to begin with.

But he'd still much rather have Raze set off an explosion right on his face instead.

ㅤ

"So, yer telling me ya gotta train with Chamber today?"

ㅤ

Clove reiterated as they leaned on the counter, watching Yoru diligently inspect the Stinger he held.

ㅤ

"Tch. Yeah. Thanks for reminding me."

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"Oooh, unlucky. Would ya like a wee butterfly? I heard Japanese people see it as good luck."

ㅤ

Clove held out their hand and allowed a single butterfly to move across it, slowly making its way to Yoru. But he shoved the insect away with his free hand instead.

ㅤ

"From where, TikTok?"

ㅤ

"Dinnae knock it, Yoru. It can be useful. Ya know, I learned CPR from it just yesterday!"

ㅤ

Yoru rolled his eyes.

ㅤ

“Yeah, that’s reliable.”

ㅤ

"Wait, wait, if you see the dafty, you'll tell him what I told you, aye? About his outfit, and all."

ㅤ

"Do it yourself, you coward."

ㅤ

He retorted nonchalantly, observing the magazine as he slipped it out of the weapon. Clove, however, was greatly taken aback by this.

ㅤ

"Who're ya calling a coward?! I'll have you know, I jump off of cliffs for fun!"

ㅤ

"Okay, prove it. Tell him."

ㅤ

“Alright, I will! Watch me!”

ㅤ

Just then, an unfamiliarly deep voice popped up from behind them that interrupted their little conversation.

ㅤ

"Tell me what?"

ㅤ

To accompany their surprise, a slew of butterflies burst from Clove as the duo turned to meet the gaze of the Frenchman.

Chamber stood before them with one hand in his pocket, looking down on the younglings. Seems like they hadn’t noticed him march down the hallway and finally go through the entrance.

Though Yoru greeted him with a look of pure disdain, Clove simply cracked an awkward smile.

ㅤ

"Nothing! We were only havering."

ㅤ

Yoru couldn't help but notice the drastic change in their tone as they spoke. And given how quiet the area is, their voices definitely echoed — that meant that Chamber also caught on to this little shift. However, ignoring the butterflies landing on their shoulders, Chamber simply kept his gaze on Clove without breaking eye contact.

ㅤ

"You can tell me, Clove.” He inclined his head. “I don't bite."

ㅤ

More butterflies emerged from them, much to Yoru’s frustration. With an audible click, he forced the magazine back in the weapon and hung it back on the weapon’s rack.

ㅤ

"Tch. It doesn't take Einstein to know that's not true."

ㅤ

"Agh, whisht. I was just about to leave."

ㅤ

Clove pointed at themselves in an attempt to restore their confidence. Yoru, however, knew that they were only leaving because the rate of butterflies they were inadvertently summoning started to get uncontrollable.

ㅤ

"Text Iso if you need me, aye? I'm off for today!"

ㅤ

Clove took a few steps back, before taking the nearest turn to disappear as quickly as possible. Yoru knew this wasn't natural for the Scot, and he immediately shot Chamber another glare.

ㅤ

"You just know how to make people uncomfortable, don't you?"

ㅤ

In response, Chamber simply gave him a once-over; it was a look that subtly radiated disgust. Then, a sly smile etched itself on his features. He turned on his heel and began moving towards the control panel not too far away. Presumably to start the training.

ㅤ

“What, are you too good to reply, now?”

ㅤ

Yoru spat out as he turned back to the weapons rack and grabbed a Vandal.

ㅤ

"Ah, no, not quite. I'd simply rather make this situation less bothersome. For myself, of course."

ㅤ

"Yeah. Yourself.” He turned the safety off. “Because the world revolves around you, huh? I know how it works for narcissists."

ㅤ

"Narcissist? That's quite a big word, Yoru."

ㅤ

Yoru shot him a glare. But their position meant that he only stared at Chamber’s back.

ㅤ

"What's that supposed to mean?"

ㅤ

"I mean that narcissist is a big word."

ㅤ

"No, you're saying something else. You're saying I'm stupid, aren't you?"

ㅤ

Chamber lightly laughed, taking out his signature Headhunter and taking a few steps back. It was only when the bots were summoned did he realise that he’d started the training.

One bot appeared, and the Frenchman calmly took aim.

ㅤ

"I'm impressed at the conclusions you're able to draw, Yoru."

ㅤ

Just before he could pull the trigger, the bot was shot, falling limp to the ground. There, he noticed that Yoru was now moving towards his general area out of the corner of his eye.

ㅤ

"Yeah, right. I know what subtext is. It's what cowards like you use to avoid saying what you actually mean."

ㅤ

"Ah. Of course." Chamber aimed at another, but the Japanese beat him to it again. "I'd be flattered at how much you studied me if you weren't a mere afterthought."

ㅤ

Yoru sighed and shot the third bot Chamber aimed at, further amusing him.

It felt like he was this close to shooting Chamber instead. But for the love of everything holy, he knew he couldn’t just do that. Killing a fellow co-worker was, you know, not allowed, even though Sage could totally revive them and all that stuff.

He really should've prayed for patience before this.

ㅤ

"Keep talking, Chamber. Sage won't undo what I'll do to you."

ㅤ

The Frenchman lightly laughed. Again. But instead, he withdrew his weapon and glanced at Yoru, ignoring the bots as the appeared and disappeared behind them.

ㅤ

"Okay, go ahead."

ㅤ

He stopped shooting.

Yoru promptly glanced up at him in confusion.

ㅤ

“What?”

ㅤ

“Truthfully, I believe all you do is hide behind empty threats.” He gestured at his Vandal. “So, prove me wrong. Shoot me.”

ㅤ

By the look in his face, his cocky posture, Yoru inferred that he wasn't riling him up anymore.

For a moment, he was tempted to actually rip his head off, but Yoru knew better than to expect stupidity from Chamber. There’s something going on, isn’t there? There’s no way he’d just do something like that without...

Yoru lifted his gaze. His eyes locked on an awry black circle on the ceiling above them, one with a faint red dot just beneath it. That’s one of Cypher’s cameras… Right, they were being recorded. Of course they bloody were, they’re in the training range.

But that also meant that Chamber did this on purpose.

Yoru opened his mouth to bite back, but he couldn’t really speak. Not with the knowledge that they were actively being watched. He was forced to bite his tongue and keep shooting, only mumbling a silent 'whatever'.

And he minded his own bots this time.

He felt the triumph coming from Chamber as he took out his gun once more and began shooting alongside him, their scores now slowly becoming equal.

And so, they continued training in silence. It was unbearable.

Even when neither of them spoke, Yoru could feel his judgemental aura mock him for everything. The way he held his gun, his posture, heck, even his outfit. Being around him just made the Japanese capable of feeling everything, even the sensation of his gloves as they pressed up against his hands.

This is gonna be a long afternoon.

[promptthebear]

Kissmass Day 1

Prompt: A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

Pairing: Tyrion Lannister x Reader

“Kiss me.”

Tyrion took one look at your face, with your closed eyes, flushed cheeks and puckered lips, and burst into laughter.

“That’s it.” he said, still breathless from mirth,”You’ve officially had too much to drink.”

Your eyes flew open, just in time to snatch your bottle of Arbor red away before Tyrion could take it from you. Going to investigate the new wine shipment had been your idea, stealing a bottle each and sneaking off to drink them in the comfort of your chambers had been his.

“I’m serious.” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound too petulant “I want you to kiss me.”

Tyrion, your best friend since childhood and the only reason you hadn’t burned this stinking city to the ground, looked at you as though you had gone as mad as old Aerys himself.

“But…why?” he finally asked, more than a little incredulous.

Because I love you.

You all but clapped a hand over your mouth, lest your wayward thoughts escape by their own volition. If Tyrion suspected such folly had begun to fill your mind, he showed no signs of suspicion. The only change in his face was the slight arch of his brow, something you knew meant he was getting impatient.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you blurted, not wanting to give your friend a chance to ponder the matter further. “And I’d rather like to have a chance to try before my father marries me off.”

That wasn’t a total lie. Yes, you had played at kissing with the squires and stableboys when you’d been only a slip of a girl, but that hardly counted. There had been more chasing and giggling than kissing, nothing like the sort of thing you’d read about in those saucy novels your mother hid away. And certainly nothing like you’d heard Tyrion discuss with Jamie when they thought you weren’t listening.

“I suppose you’ve asked me due to my breadth of experience, hmm?” Tyrion replied, taking a sip of his wine. He was by no means drunk enough for this particular conversation, but that could be quickly remedied.

“No.” you said, mirroring Tyrion’s actions and sipping your own drink “If that was all that mattered, then I would’ve asked your brother. I want it to be you. Because you’re my friend, the only one I have in this shithole.”

A moment went by, then another. It could not have been more than a few seconds at most, but it felt like entire seasons to you. Whether Tyrion noticed an eternity passing, you could not say. He seemed to have went somewhere that had nothing to do with either you or King’s landing, if the far off look in his eyes was anything to go by.

For an instant, you wondered if he had gone back to that week he’d spent away, years ago, that week he wouldn’t speak of no matter how much you had begged. Something about that week had changed him, he’d come back to you older and sadder than the Tyrion you remembered.

“Alright.” he said, finally, startling you from your own reverie “Though I will warn you, kissing me will only ruin you for other men. Dwarves have incredibly soft lips, you know”

You giggled, happy to see some of his usual humour returning. “I suppose that’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

“Close your eyes then.”

You felt the mattress shift beneath you as Tyrion moved closer, accompanied by the smell of wine and cloves on his breath. You sat, still as a statue and tighter than a freshly strung bow. What if you made a fool of yourself? What if Tyrion came to despise you after this? Was this really just a drunken fancy? Could you really be throwing away your dearest friend because the wine had gone to your h-

Oh.

First, there was a tingling sensation that went across your cheeks, down your spine, and set your heart fluttering. Then, you felt your breath catch, and for a moment you thought you may just faint. But that was nothing compared to the sheer, molten heat of Tyrion’s lips against yours. It radiated, like a fire in the dead of winter, and nothing you had read or heard could have ever truly prepared you for this feeling.

And then, as quickly as it happened, it was over. You opened your eyes, and were surprised to find Tyrion’s face still only a few inches from yours. You resisted the temptation to reach up and brush an errant, blonde curl from his eyes. The air around you felt heavy all of a sudden, burdened with the weight of what had just passed between you.

“How was it?” Tyrion asked, breaking the silence though his voice was barely more than a whisper

“Nice. Really nice, actually.” you replied, with a little smile “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you ever want to practice some more, you know where to find me.”

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hey! if you're still taking requests could i get a nsfw fluff Daemon x fem!reader (they have an established relationship) where after he comes back from the war in stepstone they get together and reader loves his scars (with much praise kink and words of affirmation) please?

Of course! Here you go!

Words of Praise

Pairing: Daemon x Fem. Reader (Non- Targ.)

Themes: NSFW | Soft | Affirmations

Warnings: Praise kink | Kissing | Fingering (f. receiving)

Word Count: 2.1K words

Minors DNI | 18+

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all   here

The wind had been hammering at the walls of High Tide when Daemon came back, soaked to the skin and exhausted. There would be a feast tonight, but Daemon had neither the time nor the patience for it. Daemon certainly did not wish to deal with Vaemond in any shape or form. He had his fill of Vaemond’s complaints and frustrations, and ached to be away from the man.  

Daemon only lingered long enough to have a final word with Lord Corlys and the Princess Rhaenys before heading off to his chambers, the ones he turned into a temporary home during the course of the war for the Stepstones.

When warmth from a nearby fire greeted him, a sigh rose from the tips of his toes. "And how did you fare while I was away, my love?"

"I thoroughly enjoyed myself," you said as you helped him out of his armour, his leather tunic, your spine tingling at the scents of rain and salt and dragon. Daemon sighed again, this time when warm air washed over his skin. "Laena is a joy to have around, and Rhaenys has so many tales to tell, I believe I will never tire of listening to them all."   

Daemon slipped out of his boots and sank into the nearest chair. "Rhaenys is a good woman, and I cannot figure out what sin she must have committed to end up with Vaemond for a good brother."

 "Hush, my love," you warned as you brought him a simple supper of bread and cheese and olives, with mulled wine to wash it all down. "Lord Corlys would not take kindly to you speaking of his brother in such a manner."

"Corlys only puts up with him because the Gods of both old Valyria and the Seven Kingdoms condemn kinslaying." Daemon sighed again when the warmth of cinnamon and cloves washed down his throat. Now he knew he was truly done with the Stepstones and that wretched Crabfeeder. "He’s planning on sending Vaemond away before the month is out."  

"Where to?"

"It was my own suggestion, actually," Daemon could not help but crack a smile at this. "to send Vaemond to Yi Ti."

"Wh-what?" You couldn’t believe your ears. "How in the name of the Seven did you and Lord Corlys pull it off?"

Daemon leaned in, as if to fill you in on some great conspiracy. "We convinced him that this was necessary, that no one was better suited for the role. We fed right into Vaemond’s ego; that’s what we did."

But does Vaemond understand that he might be gone for years, and that there’s no reason to visit Yi Ti since Lord Corlys has already gone there?"

Daemon merely smirked and shrugged his shoulders. "Does it matter? The grasping, loud-mouthed master of complaints will be out of everyone’s hair for a good while, and we all could finally live more peacefully on this island."

You nearly choked on an olive. "Master of complaints? And who, pray tell, came up with that?"

Daemon whispered: "Vaemond’s own nephew, Laenor."

So like Laenor, to come up with such a nickname. You clapped a hand to your mouth and snickered. You could picture it: a frustrated Laenor spitting it out and Vaemond sputtering, Corlys glaring at his son while trying hard not to grin like anything; the others turning their faces to hide their laughter. The image was too much for you, and what began as a snicker turned into shrieking laughter.

Daemon watched it—how your cheeks turned pink, how you held your sides as you tried to breathe through fits of laughter. "I missed this," he mumbled cheerfully.

"M-m-missed wh-what?" You managed in fits and starts.

"This," Daemon leaned in, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "Your laughter. I'd lie awake at night picturing you laughing, how your eyes always light up when you're amused by something."

"As I have missed you, my love," Now fully composed and free of laughter, you kept still as he wiped off the rest of your tears with a callused thumb. “I was counting the days till I saw you again.”

“Really?” Daemon arched a brow, his eyes giving nothing away as he fiddled with his goblet. "Old burns and scars and all?"

You hummed and plopped another olive into your mouth. Daemon was fishing around for something more. He may have put on a façade of innocence, but you weren’t fooled. Not when he looked at you the way he did, as if he yearned to hear more. You carefully plan out your words before saying: "Especially the burns and scars."

And there it was, those beautiful eyes of his flashing like deep purple fire. Oh, but Daemon loved this, lived for this, receiving your praise. "Go on, my love." He urged. "Tell me more."

Daemon the Rogue Night Targaryen, you shook your head in amusement. Volatile like his dragon, a true killer, brash and proud and so so predictable.

"Well," you hummed as you rose from your chair and walked over to his. "I could tell you more," Daemon sunk into his chair so you could straddle your lap. "But first, that wretched undertunic has to go."

Far be it from Daemon to deny such a request, and the offending garment in question ended up on the floor without a moment’s thought. Spears of pleasure struck him when your fingers traced their way over a scar over his left rib cage. "Remember this?"

"How can I forget, my love?" Daemon cooed. "It was how we met, when those thieves tried to rob and do worse to you."

It had been over a year ago, you had gone to watch the tourney held in honour of Rhaenyra’s eighteenth name-day. By the time you left for home, it was getting dark, and you ended up taking a wrong turn. "You were dressed only in your princely robes—no armour in sight, not a gold cloak around to back you up. Yet you still took them on for me."

"I did." Daemon closed his eyes when he felt a thumb go over that jagged line, the angry red now fully healed into a pale white. "And what does it mean to you?" he breathed.

You hummed when you felt his very human reaction to your touch. "It means that you’re brave and will gladly take on anyone without a moment’s hesitation. It means that you keep me safe and secure. I feel honoured to have one such as you in my life, my love." 

My love. You never tired of saying it, and Daemon? Well, he never tired of hearing it. His hands moved to your thighs, gliding over them, before coming to rest over your hips. "What else?"

 Your hands glided over another scar, an old burn this time. It was the one he got while saving his brother from the Cannibal’s rage. The realm was told that Viserys had no desire to bond with another dragon after Balerion, but the truth is that he tried, really tried.  The true tame dragons all rejected him, and then, truly desperate, he finally approached the one they all treated with great dread. The Cannibal responded by trying to burn Viserys alive, and he would have succeeded had Daemon not been there to drag him out of harm’s way. The great beast tried to finish them both and only gave up when Daemon found the strength to pull both Viserys and himself into a ravine the dragon could not go into. They had been there two full days before finally being rescued, and Daemon had nearly died from an infection. All that remained of that fateful day was puckered pink scarring running above his right ribcage, around his throat, and going down his back. "You love your brother, despite what everyone says. You’d go to great lengths to protect him from all harm." 

"And here I was hoping to keep that as my great secret." Daemon groaned and gave an exaggerated sigh. 

You smiled and brushed back his silky blond hair. "I promise I won’t tell anyone." 

The act, so simple to many, was enough to make Daemon go weak in the knees. "Good." He gave you the sternest look he could muster and wagged a finger at you. "I do not want the likes of Otto Hightower thinking I’m all soft inside." 

"That’s another thing I love about you," you murmur. "Your heart. Your generous, loving heart. I just wish you wouldn’t guard it so carefully." 

Daemon hooked his arms around you, holding you flush to him. "You, my sweet, are the only one who gets to see that side of me." Teeth nipping at your collarbone turned your bones to water. "And I don’t know what I’d do without you." Daemon let go and mumbled against your throat. "Promise me you’ll always stay by my side." 

"I’ll always be by your side. I’ll never leave you." You held your breath as hands roughened after years of fighting, slowly drifting their way down your thighs and sneaking under your skirts. He hadn’t meant to touch you like that, not yet, but when you purred, he mumbled "fuck" before dragging you in for a kiss. 

It felt like Daemon was on top of you and all around you at the same time. His hands were all in your hair one moment, squeezing your back another. His lips plundered, growing hungry and demanding. "Tell me more," He moaned into your mouth. "Please, tell me more."

 "Th-this one h-here," your hand came to rest over a clean pink line. "F-from the Crabfeeder?" 

"Yes him," Daemon mumbled as he hiked up your skirt. "Took my time, hacked him right across the center." 

"I heard," you sighed when he pulled you for another kiss, one nearly drugging him when you moaned and ground into him. "He deserved it, and it’s only right that you were the one to do it." 

Daemon growled, his teeth leaving your lips puffy and bruised. "Why? Oh please, tell me why." 

You pulled away long enough to gather your breath. "Because you’re Daemon Targaryen. The Daemon Targaryen. It shouldn’t have been anyone else."

Daemon pulled you in again, this time a whimper rising from the back of his throat when your tongue flicked against his lips. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you closer, tighter. You felt it—his chest rising and falling with each breath, his heart pounding under your splayed hand. "I love how you smell like this," you groaned when he dipped his head, pressing his lips to your throat. "All leather and sea air and dragon and – oh."

His tongue was tracing a line over your throat, his lips sucking at the soft flesh. One hand had snuck back under your skirts, a thumb pressing against your throbbing nub. Feeling that glorious, slick heat press against his palm robbed him of all coherent thought. All he wanted to feel was you, and nothing else. He continued to tease your clit, his finger gently easing into your wet slit. 

"D-daemon," you said, panting. 

Daemon didn’t answer, didn’t say anything. He knew your body would flourish now without any more encouragement, and your loosening tongue was proof of it. 

"I love it when you touch me there." 

"You’re the only one who could make me feel pleasure like this." 

"I want your lips all over my body." 

Daemon growled again when you ground into his hand. You were so close, so very close, and he wanted to take you over the edge, then take you to bed. When you ground into his hand again, he crushed your lips with his, drowning out your moans. You forced your eyes open, your vision going hazy as it drowned in a sea of the richest, deepest purple. The next kiss brought on your surrender as your body gave into the demands of Daemon’s touch. 

Daemon couldn’t help but sob when you shook and poured onto his hand. Your orgasm ripped over you like a vicious wave and the cry that echoed around the room was as satisfying to him as his deep groans were to you. 

The room slowly started to come into focus as you collapsed onto him and buried your face in his hair. Daemon heard the soft sigh, the deep intake of breath. He didn’t move, couldn’t bear to. This was the first time the two of you had been together since he flew off to the Stepstones and to war, and he wanted to make the most of every moment of. He hummed under his breath, a Valyrian song that only lovers were supposed to sing. The words you couldn't understand because your command of the language was still rudimentary, but you could feel them—the love and tenderness in each word. On your next sigh, Daemon shifted, lifting you as he stood up. "How about we head to bed, my love," he crooned. "And see where the rest of the night takes us."