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angel-sweets666 · 2 months

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stuck together

Barbarian bakugo x princess! Reader

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. CHAPTER TWO HERE

warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff.

THE FULL VERSION IS OUTTT, truely ask and you shall receive. Anyways this is the full edited and lengthened part one I hope it’s better then the sneak peak I gave you guys

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Flamoria had a habit of attacking your home kingdom, however in recent years the bakugos have managed to not only defeat the todorokis but make their kingdom subservient to them.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper which already had both mitsuki and masarus names written down. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own squeaky wooden chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me. Brutally, he’s gonna hack off my head just you watch”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, faked illness, and came up elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were stubborn, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes gloomy with pity . "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk to the carriage by the gate as your mother sobbed into your fathers chest.

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy but covered in tall trees landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls. You swore that if you listened close enough you could hear peoples screams in the dungeons below. Fuck was this hell with its 7 rings?

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. He was busy looking at a sheet of paper, the one oddly similar to the ones your parents shown you when they first announced your betrothal to bakugo. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. He looked almost angry at you, furious even. Which was confusing because you’ve known this man for a whole 10 seconds

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and piercings on his ears and lip.

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance. Katsuki had a deep voice that you couldn’t tell if you found attractive or if you wanted to run away and hide.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady but it ended up sounding shaky.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors. His steps much louder then yours due to his much larger frame

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way or else," he said, theblonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids, you even went the effort to fire atleast 4 of them to keep their grotty hands to themselves.

“you done firing my staff now?” Bakugo grumbled as he caught up with you in the stone candle lit halls “your staff? You mean my staff? My staff who you seem to love flirting with” you corrected him, looking over your shoulder at him. The blonde furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed “I pay for them there for their my staff.” He growled, asking faster in an attempt to intimate you “actually, your parents pay for the staff.” “Hah?” “Your parent pay for the staff so their not your staff, their the palaces staff.” You said ignorantly as you played with the lace of your dress. “You gonna get out of that frill fest you call a gown?” He asked, again trying to insult you “if I do I’m gonna shove it up your ass” “excuse me?”

“Want me to say it slower? I—WILL—SHOVE—MY—GOW”

“OKAY OKAY SHUT UP WOMAN” he growled at you and walked off in spite “THATS WHAT WHAT I THOUGHT. THATS WHAT I THOUGHT.” You angrily yelled back to him, which in real aspect you were yelling at the back of his ignorant head. You huffed and stormed away in the opposite direction as you wanted nothing more then to get away from that man. As you stomped down the halls, footsteps echoing with each step; you heard a male voice call out to you

“Princess.”

you looked over, a certain brown haired man similar looking to katsuki stared back at you. It was king Masaru “I was looking for you” he says, walking towards you. You quickly curtsied to the king “About what?” You asked “we have a wedding date for you and my son” he smiled warmly as if this was a good thing “o-oh.. and when may that be..?” Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration “a month from now, they will date you to get your gown fitted this week” he seemed overly happy about something neither you or his temperamental son wanted.

“Will I wear a wedding dress from my country or your country?” You asked softly, trying to keep your cool “uh.. our country.” He informed you “I’d rather wear my own wedding gown though, your majesty” “well.. you belong to our kingdom now. We can give you a dress that’s a mix of the two if you’d rather” he compromised, trying to keep with both your and his kingdom. Letting out a sigh your shoulders dropped “I suppose that be okay…” a look of mild disappointment on your face “wonderful, I’m glad we could come to a compromise” he smiled and walked off, an electric blonde guard following close behind him who you earlier learned his name was kaminari. The blonde goofily smiled to you, he seemed like a character. The two men walked off as they chatted, rolling your eyes you too began to walk in the direction of your bedroom chambers.

you couldn’t sleep that night, you tried changing your nightgown, exercising, reading a book, meditating, everything! nothing would help you sleep this night, you wondered if it was the weird interaction with king Masaru or the fact your own fiance was when you think about it was cheating on you with your own staff members. you slowly slid out of bed and out of your silk sheets, rubbing your face up and down with your hands with frustration. Looking down at your feet you sighed, looking out of the window. the night sky was so peaceful unlike your mind which was running with less the pleasant thoughts. How could you get Katsuki to like you? or at least tolerate you in some way so he wouldn't be the most annoying little shit.

The creak of the door hinges squeaks as you pushed the heavy wooden door open, wincing at the high pitch noise. Slowly but quietly gou walked towards the chambers of your future husband. As you approached the door you hear two voices come from the inside

“you’ll need to learn to cherish and care for her eventually”

“why would I do that?” “She is your fiancé! Your future wife! Future mother of your heirs!”

“you except me to fuck her too? Shit.”

“Yes obviously! Your gonna need heirs for our kingdom!”

“fine. Before or after this whole wedding?”

“well In her kingdom, you two do that on the wedding night but to be honest I don’t really care when you do her”

“Too easy”

safe to say your whole face was pink, with either anger or arousal but you couldn’t tell

Tag list!

@sagejin @teeesthings @hiimsaraandyou

@peachysuguru @luvgumii

@v3n7s @iangeeluv

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royalarchivist · 5 months

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Bad: I don't think we've reached an ending, but we've reached an end for some things. [...] There are no permanent endings, Chat. There are no permanent goodbyes. Only goodbyes for now. Only goodbyes for now, ok?

Bad talks a little bit to his chat about the Egg admins leaving, and the future.

[ Transcript ↓ ]

—

Bad: All right, Chat. I need to have a serious talk with you for a little bit. Here Pepito, I'm gonna keep riding! Sorry Pepito, I’ll keep riding. I'm gonna have a serious talk with the Chat since we got 12 minutes to kill.

But yes, Chat. Yes, some of the… Eggies are leaving, which I know is a really sad thing to see following such a fun and happy day of Murder Mystery, which was really fun. And I know– as far as I know right now, just, I'm aware that I was– I'm aware that Pepito— er, not- sorry, Pepito is behind me, see Pepito? He's right there.

As far as I know, Chat, right now I'm aware of Richas left, or will be leaving, Lullah will be leaving, and I believe Chayanne will be leaving. And… it's really heartbreaking. And it's hard to talk about, obviously, ‘cuz we made so many memories with them over the past year. So… I think, I don't know. Obviously like, there's things I wanna say, things I will say, things I won't say, you know… And I just… I dunno. Right now just gonna… filling you guys in. But uh, yeah, they will no longer be around. So… Yeah, it’s very sad, I’m very sad. But I think… I don't think– or at least I'd say I hope that it's not the end of any particular adventures for them going forward.

And I don't know, we'll see what the future holds for any particular thing. You feel me? Just like– just enjoy the memories today. Relish in the sadness chat. Embrace the sadness for a bit, and understand that like, I think tomorrow will be better, and just give the love and appreciation to the amazing people— give the love and appreciation, Chat, to the amazing people of the project who worked so hard and put their heart and soul into everything they did. All of the Eggy actors, all the builders, all the people who worked on everything. Each one of them. I think each one of the Eggs really put themselves into their characters.

Obviously, in particular, I was particularly close to Dapper, Pomme, and Richas, and I'm gonna miss them the most, obviously, Chat. I don't know personally, I don't know what my– I can't speak necessarily on what my future holds because… you know, in regards to anything ‘cuz I'm just kinda going through the emotions right now and just kind of feeling the emotions, you know?

[Groans] I dunno, Chat. I’m just feelin’ it, and sometimes it’s hard to put things into words. You know? When you’re feeling stuff. So… It's hard to play, uh… it's hard to play Minecraft with, um, with people for so long, Chat. You know, to spend so much time with people. And you guys were here for the ride, you were here for the journey. Don't be sad when a particular ride happens, Chat. Be happy you were able to ride it to begin with. Ok?

I think– I feel– I think personally, Chat, I feel very blessed to have been able to experience the– and do this stuff I've been able to, you know?

[Long silence]

Ah, we're almost there, we're almost there, Chat.

[Sighs, then reads a chat message] “Thank you for bringing us on this journey with you” I don't think—

One: I don't think the journey is over completely, right? I can't say with certainty Chat, what the future holds, right? And I don't know– I don't know what the future holds, Chat. I don't think– I don't think we've reached an ending, but we have– we’ve reached the end for some things, yes. And as for what it means– what I mean by “an ending,” I dunno. We'll see what happens, you know? I think the chapter as far as like— obviously, like… you know, when you graduate school for example, right? It is an ending of sorts. It's an ending of THAT experience, right? The experience that you had with those particular people in that particular place. It's not an ending to those people, or your interactions with those people. You feel me?

[Sighs] There's other things I want to say Chat, but… I’m doin’ my best to just keep myself reigned in a little bit. Guess I'm feeling a little- a lil’ emotional. Trying to reign in those emotions, you know? One day at a time. But make sure you're following, and stick around, because I have a feeling we'll have more fun stuff that you guys will not want to miss. Trust me. Trust me Chat, every day is gonna be an adventure.

#Badboyhalo #BBH #Bad #QSMP #May 13 2024 #Did my best with the transcript

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breadinanutshell · 1 year

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I made a list of Halsin facts for my own entertainment a while back but forgot to post it. Dunno if anyone would find this interesting but in case here it is, enjoy~ o/

ACT1

-He writes in tight scribbles, smokes the pipe and loves reading (likely non-fiction). He’s the studious sort, considering his unprompted interest in the parasites and his hunger for knowledge. This aspect of him was more defined in Early Access but sadly got lost during full release. It also briefly comes up during one of his banters in later chapters.

-He rarely drinks: he’s a lightweight and gets overly affectionate when drunk. He also sings when drunk. Badly, per his word.

-Is an actual Disney princess (he has birds scouting and reporting back to him).

-He has a strong sense of duty, so much so he will stop paying attention to other aspects of his life in the pursuit of it. At least in one instance, this has been depicted as a flaw (when he abandons the grove looking for the Nightsong).

-He enjoys spending time in his bear form, and appears to have been the main caretaker for the bears in the grove. Ormn in particular acts heartbroken that Halsin is missing.

-When given the chance, he’s eager to give up his position as archdruid, as he felt it was too draining and confining. Despite his insecurities in his ability as a leader, he’s more shrewd and wise than he lets on: he can play politics when necessary. And people around him have been more than happy to rely on him. He cares about those under his protection. A lot. “The grove is everything to me”.

-He doesn’t shy away from violence when provoked.

-He feels responsible for the shadow curse, and is compelled by the need to fix everything.

-This is a relic from Early Access but you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands: in the grove there used to be a fanfic titled “Shadow’s Kiss” written by the druid Roan that featured a certain “Balsin”. At the end of it a written entry by Halsin would threaten to feed Roan to Ormn if he ever saw the name “Balsin” again.

ACT2

-He likes open spaces, reading and whittling utensils and ornaments (ducks in particular). He’s got a sweet tooth and a fondness for honey. He finds it hurtful when he's made fun of for his interests: he admits people tend to underestimate his sensitivity.

-He’s a very religious man and invokes Silvanus any chance he gets. Even so he doesn’t believe in blind faith and chides Shadowheart for not questioning Shar’s teachings.

-He’s 350 years old.

-He has no mercy for goblins, to the point where he disapproves if you spare them in Moonrise. A bit funny, considering there’s a banter later on with Karlach where he insists that “mercy costs us nothing”.

-His scars were caused by a bear who didn’t appreciate being spurned during mating season.

-He’s a veteran who served in the battle against Ketheric Thorm in Reithwin, where eventually the druids and Harpers won. At the time he was likely second to the archdruid that led him into battle. When the shadow curse started spreading, said archdruid died, leaving Halsin in charge. He immediately evacuated the survivors. He still feels guilty for not being able to help more that day. From one of his party banters it’s clear Halsin suffers from survivor’s guilt. He’s lost many friends to the curse, so many in fact that “it would take a day and a night to recite the names of the fallen”.

-Considering how obsessed he’s been with the curse ravaging the land for the past 100 years, it’s unlikely he had any intimate connections during this period of time. He also claims that more good has been done since meeting Tav than in the 100 years before their meeting.

-His family is dead and buried at the foot of the Grandfather Tree in High Forest.

-He seems used to changing environments and affiliations. Once recruited, he’s quick to call Tav his new family.

-He remains polite in the face of scorn and ridicule. Right when he joins if you suggest all he’s good for is cleaning camp he responds with an awkward chuckle and a “wherever you need me”. Later in Act 3 his affections can be brusquely turned down by comparing him to a deep rothé, to which he calmly responds “a simple no would have sufficed”.

-As a child he befriended Thaniel, a spirit of nature, and ever since then he felt a higher calling. Thaniel appears to be as fond of Halsin as Halsin is of Thaniel, mentioning him often to Fist Art Cullagh during their imprisonment in the Shadowfell.

-He is the only expert of shadow curse alive, and if killed in Act 1 the curse cannot be lifted.

ACT3

-He believes himself, or at the very least aims to be, a protector. Any failure (or perceived failure) in fulfilling said role leads him to spirals of self doubt and insecurity. His self worth is heavily dependent on how useful he can be, and without a big purpose or mission to fulfill, he appears lost. In the same vein he seems incapable of staying still and relax, he always needs something to focus on.

-In true druid spirit, he considers cities to be intruding on nature’s realm. On his arrival to Baldur’s Gate, he's appalled and disgusted by the class inequality encountered in the city. He’s disturbed by the suffering of children, in particular.

-When called naive for his dream of a better future he mentions he gave up cynicism when he was 200 years old.

-He’s all for heckling Dribbles’ corny jokes.

-He sees his body as a vessel and his physical prowess as a tool. He takes no pride in it.

-He admits that he didn’t realize how much his responsibilities had been weighting on him until Tav showed up and took that burden away.

-He’s polyamorous, and pretty lax when it comes to sex and relationships: he has no qualms in taking pleasure where “desire finds purchase”. He mentions that he had many lovers in the past and that his heart doesn’t stir lightly. This might imply he’s laid with many, but cared for few. He also doesn’t appear thrilled by the prospect of marriage/tying yourself forever to someone. For a man so against putting a relationship into words, he acts incredibly smitten when romanced and showers his partner in all kinds of sweet praises.

-He’s so attuned to his wildshape that he tends to lose control of his transformations when overcome by strong emotions (i.e. anger, arousal). He appears embarrassed when this accidentally happens in an intimate situation. He does enjoy wildshape during intercourse though, as he even proposes it himself during an interaction with Shadowheart. Per his word, he doesn’t discriminate against any type: in an interaction with Lae'zel he implies he slept with a chimera.

-He considers lust to be the most essential of impulses and feels it’s only natural to be guided by it.

-He’s travelled far and wide. Where we do not know, unfortunately. He mentions he’s been to the Underdark many times and possibly the Nelanther Isles. In his youth he ventured into the Underdark to sate his own wanderlust, where he got captured, enslaved and sexually abused by drows for 3 years.

-He’s self aware of his obsession with nature. When Jaheira warns him not to fall into druid stereotypes, he comments that he does think about other topics such as high art and politics, but to him nothing compares to a tree.

-When speaking of his past, he comments that people seem to focus on the more “salacious chapters” and disregard his years of study. When confronted about it, he seems perfectly content with a life spent studying, meditating, counselling, fighting, training and fucking.

-He used to hibernate as a bear and mentions he spent at least 100 years of his life sleeping. It’s unclear if he’s still in the habit.

-At the end of the campaign he sets out to create a new community in Reithwin with the victims of war and refugees that were turned away from the city. The children of this soon-to-be-founded community refer to him as “daddy Halsin”.

-He considers himself an exceedingly patient man.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #bg3 spoilers #long post #brainrot be real #i might have missed stuff #but i tried to be as thorough as i could #if you want confirmation feel free to ask

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rapunzelbro · 1 month

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The Act of Stealing a Loved One |2| (Stanley Pines x Reader)

This chapter is a flashback. So are the others. Enjoy! It's super long lmao

Story Guide

It was the Summer of 1972 when you first met Stanford. You remember it almost all too well. You went to a college for the arts, majoring in music composition. Oh! And you were in a band! It was not good by any means, you all were figuring this out as you went but you were all having fun so it didn’t really matter to you. It’s kinda funny looking back on how the two of you somehow became a couple considering how different the two of you were.

You two only met after you accidentally stumbled in his room one night after you partied too hard at someone else's dorm. You thought his room was your friend's room. His dorm had books scattered around, posters of some scientists on the wall and an absolute mess of notes on his desk. Stanford did not want to spend his night with some random drunk girl in his dorm, but he knew he had to let you in, not trusting what any of the other men on the campus would do if they saw you like this. He didn’t know why you made him so flustered, maybe it was your vulnerable state, or just because you were a girl, talking to him.

It was probably both.

“You know, I never wanted to go to this, it was some promotional stuff for my band. Did I tell you I was in a band? We are amazing!” You were laying on the floor staring at the ceiling smiling goofily, flipping onto your stomach to look at the flustered man whose dorm you broke into. He took a glance over his shoulder to look at you, trying to tell you he was listening, even if you didnt care if he was or not. “Okay so that might be a lie, Gabs is super pitchy, Jamie is still figuring out the drums but that's besides the point..I met you by going to this!” you finally sat up running a hand through your hair “You're so dorky it's kinda cute” you let off a soft giggle pointing at him.

This made Stanford physically freeze, his breath hitching slightly “Thank you I suppose, Are your friends looking for you?” He quickly changed the subject, turning around in his chair, looking at you “I think, I dunno… I kinda wanna stay here with you” you smirked. “Well I-” he started before he heard a female voice yelling in the hallway “Y/N! We gotta go!” “Oh that's Gabs! She’s my friend!” You stumbled up before heading towards the door, pausing before going back over to the man kissing his check with a giggle, causing Stanford's face to turn bright red “Thank you for saving me! I’m Y/n by the way!” “Um… It's Stanford, Call me Ford..” he managed to get out, quickly writing the phone number to the telephone that was in his room, down on a piece of notebook paper. “Just.. Call me when you get to your dorm safe..” he quickly turned back to face his textbooks he had his nose buried in hours ago “Aw you care about me… Okay loverboy. Seeya around!” you poked his shoulder before leaving, yelling at your friend ‘Gabs’ to get her attention

Ford had no idea why he did that, he never had the balls to do this sort of thing. Especially with someone as beauti- No why the hell was he having these thoughts? You weren't going to call him. He has to forget about this encounter, he concluded, going back to his uneventful night.

He got a call the next day, it was you. There was some sort of music in the background, he couldn't place what it was, some pop music maybe. “Oh my gosh is this Ford? I kinda crashed at your dorm last night, I am sooo sorry I am super embarrassed.” you rambled on before Ford let off a slight chuckle “No it's fine. I’m glad you're safe, you seemed very out of it last night” he leaned back in his chair slightly as he spoke “Ugh don't get me started about the hangover” you groaned causing him to laugh.

After that was the beginning of a relationship, you spent your off time together, he helped you with classes and you expanded his music taste, well tried to at least.

It's been 4 months since you two started dating. Ford even told his brother about this, and to say Stanley was shocked was an understatement, he rushed over surprising Ford “So you finally found a girl who doesn’t run off screaming? Tell me all about her” Stanley smirked looking at his twin brother, noticing a photo of you on his desk in a frame, you had a microphone in your hand giving a peace sign to the camera with your other hand. How the hell did his brother score you? Ford went off to ramble about you, he was a love sick mess, but the way his eyes kept shifting to the photo of you when explaining you made Stan confused, why did he have to keep looking at it to talk about you?

He noticed a few flyers to some music festivals, they looked untouched. “Who gave you these?” he picked one up, the show was for tonight, in a few hours. “Oh Y/n did. She’s in a band” Ford looked at the flier before directing his attention back to the textbook that was in front of him “You plan on seeing her right?” Stan raised an eyebrow looking at his brother “Too busy, I have an exam tomorrow” Ford shrugged it off flipping to the next page in his book “You’re joking right? Have you been to any of her shows?” Stan narrowed his eyes in disapproval, Ford didn't say anything “Some boyfriend you are” He muttered looking down at the flier in his hands. He knew what he had to do, he wasn’t going to let Ford ruin the only potential relationship he would probably ever have.

Taglist: @bluepanda08 @slay-thou-pookie @karmaisacatluzi @fries11 @marvelous-maniac @cherryblom @leo4242564 @zuzzybakaemperiment

#stanford x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanley x reader #stanley pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #stan x reader #stan pines

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thehmn · 6 months

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There’s a million horror book, comics, movies and games about men victimizing women written by men, but I’ve noticed when the roles are reversed and a woman writes about a woman victimizing men people immediately assume she must be agreeing with the woman’s actions no matter how hard the author is trying to depict her as a villain.

I was reminded of it because I’m almost done with the first chapter of my schlock horror comic where the big bad is a woman and I’m already well aware that it’ll get that reaction from some people despite her being cartoonishly evil with no redeeming qualities (unless you’re into that sort of thing I say because some people do love a villain)

And when I think about it that’s extremely chilling because that would imply people think men who writes about men hurting women hates women in real life and want to hurt them and that’s just a-okay.

Of course another assumption is simply that we’re used to seeing certain genders in certain roles and we only realize how fucked up they are when the genders are switched or when we see our own gender in the victim role.

I made the villain a woman for several reasons but mostly for the schlock factor. There’s just something inherently schlocky about a cartoon villain of a woman doing whatever the fuck she wants while wearing leather boots. But definitely also just to play around with common conventions because nothing highlights them more than turning them on their head.

I dunno, it’s definitely horror so don’t expect a fun light rump but hopefully people can see what I’m going for. I’m honestly impressed by how chill people have been about Red Prism despite the main characters basically being serial killers, so I trust that most people will trust me to know which characters are villains and who deserves redemption and who doesn’t even if the main villain is a woman this time.

#humontalks #horror #gender roles

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macfrog · 1 year

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moneyball cowboy like me chapter four

part iv of dbf!joel is yours!!! check out my masterlist to find the first three chapters for all your dbf needs. as always, thank you all so much for all the love n support. you guys make writing this series so much fun!! 🤍 i lowkey don't know whether or not i hate this chapter but i had to write it once the idea was in my head 🤷‍♀️ enJOY

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: when joel double-books you and your dad, you decide to teach him a lesson

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! oral (f receiving), praise kink, lotsa teasing, lil bit of bratty reader, lil bit of dom!joel, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), consumption of alcohol, cursing

word count: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You raise your eyebrows at Joel innocently as you push the popsicle deep into your mouth, sucking as far as the back of your throat will allow, before dragging it back out with a pop. A thread of sweet, fruit-flavored saliva strings between the tip of the popsicle and your bottom lip as you pull it away. You run your tongue slowly over your lips and smile at him. He looks pissed. He can’t take his eyes off of you, or your swollen lips, but he looks ready to snap. “I found snacks, by the way,” you lull.

How slutty is too slutty? When you’re going over to your dad’s best friend’s to…Well, you’re not quite sure what yet. You’ve picked out a short blue summer dress, strappy back, with black lace panties underneath. If you’re looking, and the light is right, you can see them through the blue fabric.

Joel would, you know that much. That’s all you really care about.

You’re putting earrings on in the mirror when your dad knocks and edges into your room.

“Where you headed, kiddo?”

“Just out for a drink with Sam. Said we’d have a catch-up at the barbecue, so.”

He narrows his eyes.

“It’s not a date.”

“Hey,” he lifts his hands, “I didn’t say anything. When will you be home?”

“Dunno. Why?”

“I’ll be at Joel’s, so remember your key. Just in case.”

Excuse me? Did he just say –

“Joel’s?”

He nods, sitting down on your bed behind you. You stare at him in the mirror.

“What’s happening at Joel’s?”

“Rangers game. He’s having Bill and Hank and me.”

Just then, your phone buzzes. You subtly lean over and catch a glimpse of the screen before it fades to black again.

Joel: Call me when you’re alone. ASAP

You roll your eyes and let out a low sigh.

“Can you give me a sec, Dad? I think I wanna change my outfit.”

“Sure. I’ll give you a holler when I’m leavin’.”

He shuts your door behind him and you wait until you hear his footsteps recede to call Joel.

“Hey, baby, listen, I’m gonna have to raincheck.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Something’s come up.”

“Right.” Your tone is muted and flat. On purpose. Joel notices.

“So…we’ll figure somethin’ out, right? You workin’ much this week?”

You scoff. “I dunno, depends on when the next Rangers game is, doesn’t it?”

He’s quiet for a moment. Then he takes a deep breath. “Kid, I’m so sorry–”

“Here I am,” you throw your arms up and march around your room, though you know he can’t see you, “getting ready, putting together the sluttiest-within-reason outfit I own, and all the while you’re gearing up to host my dad and your buddies.”

“…You’re wearing somethin’ slutty?”

“Not anymore,” you huff as you pull the dress off. “I’m changin’ into sweatpants.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’d still be into you in the sweatpants.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs. “I will have them out and gone as soon as the game’s done, and then you can come over, okay? Sound good?”

“And you’ll make it up to me?”

“I intend to.”

“’kay. Just know you’re gonna pay for this.”

He says through a chuckle, “See you later, baby.”

You hang up.

You rake through your drawers for something a little more comfortable to wear, settling for a floral skirt and off-shoulder top. Equal parts casual and suggestive. Perfect for payback.

Joel knows he’s gonna pay. He just doesn’t know when.

“Hey, hon, that’s me headin!” your dad calls up the stairs.

“Wait up!” you reply, grabbing your shoes and hopping out of your room. “I’m comin’.”

“You want a ride to Frank’s?”

“No, I’m coming to Joel’s.”

He watches you struggle down the stairs with one shoe on, brows furrowed. “You wanna…come watch the game? What about Sam?”

“He just cancelled.”

Your dad looks tickled. “Cheatin’ on ya, is he?”

You stand straight, finally having pulled your shoe on, and punch his arm. “I’ll be in the car.”

“Alright…” he mumbles, following you out.

----------

Joel’s face when he opens the door is a picture you never want to forget.

“Hey– I – did not know you were comin’.” He ushers you both in.

“Neither did I,” your dad replies, “she decided last minute. Blew off some date with that boy from Frank’s for this.”

“It was not a…” Your sentence ends with a sigh as you follow him inside, looking up at Joel as you pass. He knows damn well you didn’t even have plans with Sam, never mind a date.

“Big Rangers fan?” Joel calls from behind as the three of you head for the living room.

“Yes,” you reply, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible.

“Big enough to schedule a date during the game?”

“I’m sure I’m not the first to do that,” you hiss through your teeth, and he gives you an amused grin.

Bill and Hank haven’t arrived yet. Your dad sits in his usual recliner seat and sighs. You and Joel share the couch, where he turns on you to interrogate you more.

“So, what’s with the change of heart?”

“I, uh…I didn’t know it was this game.”

“And what game’s that?”

“The…Uh…You know. Rangers.” You shrug.

“Name three players.”

“That’s sexist,” you reply, pointing a finger at him.

Your dad cackles, rocking back and forth in the chair. “Beers, Joel?”

“In the fridge,” Joel answers, eyes still on you.

Your dad, who’d be oblivious to a hurricane outside if it weren’t for the warnings on the news, waltzes past the pair of you, locked in a death stare.

“You’re here to cause tr–”

“Trouble, yeah.” You flash him an innocent smile. “You caused it first.”

The doorbell rings and Joel doesn’t move, eyes still dancing all over your body; your shoulders, your hips, your thighs peeking through the slit in your skirt.

Your dad calls through from the kitchen, offering to get it, and you hear the rumble of Hank and Bill’s voices.

When Joel’s eyes meander back up to meet yours, a dangerous look in them, he leans in close. You tilt your jaw to allow him access, but his lips never touch you.

Breath hot on your skin, his Southern drawl whispers, “I started it, and I know how to finish it, pretty girl.”

Then he stands and heads to the hallway to meet his guests. You clamp your legs together.

Bill roars your name when he sees you. “I didn’t fuckin’ know you liked the Rangers!”

You stand and nervously accept his arms over your shoulders, squeezing you so tight it takes your breath away. Joel stifles a laugh in the doorway.

“I just wanted to be around for all the fun,” you almost gasp when he releases you.

Hank is older and smaller in frame, and he gives your hand a little squeeze as he passes by to the couch. “We’re up for it tonight, kiddo,” he smiles sweetly, “it’ll be a good’un.”

“Bill, beer? Hank?”

“Bourbon for me, Joel. Brought my own bottle.” He hands it over.

As your dad squeezes past to join his friends, Joel clicks his fingers at you and jerks his head toward the kitchen. Your jaw falls open with mock offense.

“Dick,” you whisper as you pass.

“Needed help from my waitress with the drinks,” Joel murmurs with a smirk, the two of you heading through.

He opens the fridge and reaches up to grab three beers – Buds, you notice – from the top shelf. His shirt lifts a sliver from the waistband of his jeans, exposing the tan skin beneath.

Your head cocks as you stare at him, gripping onto the worktop, probably more to stop yourself from approaching him than to look casual. But when Joel turns back around, he reads you like an open book.

“Quit starin’,” he mutters, nudging you to shift out of his way.

You don’t budge, so Joel shifts further up the counter. When you slide up to follow him, pinning yourself between him and the marble surface, he scoffs.

“Stop that,” he whispers.

“Stop what? Thought you knew how to finish this?”

“Alright,” he hums, arms reaching around yours to crack the beers open in front of you. Your back is flush against his chest.

“Then,” he mumbles, chin hooked over your shoulder, “we take this,” he reaches for a whiskey glass and Hank’s bottle of Yellow Rose, sliding them over in front of you with one hand. He takes your hands in his, using you like a puppet to pour Hank’s drink.

You can’t help but giggle as his stubble grazes your cheek.

When you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, you feel an unmistakable swell behind your ass. Joel’s breath falters for a brief second.

You want more. To be frank, you’d take him here and now if it weren’t for his buddies in the next room. But this isn’t about what you want right now. Not yet.

You push off the counter gently, your ass touching Joel’s crotch, grinding into him. His jaw tightens, teeth lock together, and he emits a low growl. He doesn’t move; just stands with his arms around you, hands gripping the worktop, holding you in place as your hips rut on his hardening bulge.

The TV is switched on and you hear a familiar commentator’s voice.

“Joel!” your dad yells from the living room.

“Had your fun?” he grumbles in your ear.

You shake your head. “Not yet.”

He moves his arms then, letting you go, taking his and Bill’s beers and Hank’s bourbon, and backs away. His eyebrows are cocked, and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.

You watch him until he disappears into the living room, and snap out of your daze. I’m not here to be wooed by him.

I’m here to make him finish what he started.

When you enter the living room, beer in hand, all four men are literally on the edge of their seats, as far forward as they can get without actually sliding off of Joel’s couch.

You notice a space between Joel and Hank, and slip between the coffee table and Hank’s legs. He moves back to allow you the space to squeeze by and slot in on Joel’s left.

As you fall down into your seat, all eyes glued on the TV screen, your right hand comes up to balance yourself – Who are you kidding? – on Joel’s thigh. The inside of Joel’s thigh.

His head jerks down to stare at your fingers, locked around his leg. Checking nobody’s looking, you move it slightly upward. Closer to his –

“What are you doin’?” he whispers through gritted teeth, low enough that the other men don’t hear.

“Watchin’ the game,” you reply, innocent and sweeter than sugar.

His free hand takes hold of yours and slides it off of his thigh without looking, eyes always on the room around him.

You breathe a laugh as he readjusts in his seat, sitting up awkwardly straight and keeping his legs a safe distance away, parallel to yours.

You’re just getting started.

----------

Let’s be frank about it: baseball is fucking boring.

Well, let’s rephrase. It’s not that you don’t like watching it; you’re sure that, in more appropriate circumstances – relaxing on a lazy Sunday, or at an actual game, where the atmosphere buzzes with excitement – you could enjoy it.

But right now, you’re sat with your dad’s buddies, an ache between your legs that you can’t fix, and the only person who can fix it, is refusing to even look at you.

Given the situation at hand, you can’t really fault him for that. But you’re still a little mad.

When they roar at the screen for what feels like the thousandth time, you decide to take yourself for a quiet jaunt to the kitchen.

“You got snacks?” you ask Joel.

“Cupboard above the microwave,” he replies, gaze locked on the game.

You saunter out of the living room, finishing the dregs of your beer, and place the bottle in Joel’s sink.

Reaching up to search his cupboards, you find one bag of Cheetos and another bag of pretzels. You toss them both on the counter, and they land a little bit away from Hank’s bottle of bourbon.

You pick it up, reading the label. You’ve never really been much of a whiskey drinker, but you’re bored, and it’s here, so you may as well.

You pour a little into the bottom of a glass and lift it to your lips, giving it a good sniff before you take a sip. Your face screws up immediately, swallowing just to get the liquid off of your tongue, feeling it burn its way down your throat.

“You okay in there, kiddo?” your dad calls, hearing your coughing, and you splutter a “Yep!” in response.

Would it taste better with ice, you think? Maybe if you could get used to it, it wouldn’t be that bad. You amble over to Joel’s refrigerator and haul the freezer door open, in search of ice cubes, but finding something even better.

You lift the box, sliding one of them out and unwrapping it. When you knock the freezer door closed with your hip, you strut through to the living room and stand behind the couch in the doorway.

No one notices you sneak in; they’re all waving their fists and yelling curses at the TV.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Four heads turn to give you an update on the game, and three hastily turn back when the crowd suddenly begins cheering.

One head, though, whips straight back to you. Stood in his living room doorway. Sucking on a popsicle.

He looks pissed. He can’t take his eyes off of you, or your swollen lips, but he looks ready to snap.

“I found snacks, by the way,” you lull.

“Yeah? Good.” He twists back around to face the television, a hand running across his jaw. He shuffles in his seat again, just as awkward as he is uncomfortable.

You let out a quiet giggle and meander gleefully back through to the kitchen.

Not long after, you’re at Joel’s counter eating some of his pretzels when he and your dad stalk through, followed by Bill and Hank.

“Game over?”

“No, kid,” Bill chuckles, “seventh-inning stretch.” He yanks open Joel’s refrigerator and takes three more beers, passing them around.

He perches on a bar stool next to you, bringing a hand down on your back – loving, of course, but in typical Bill nature, kinda painful.

“We ain’t doin’ too bad,” Hank muses as he pours another whiskey, and your dad nods silently.

Your eyes flit between the men, now deep in conversation about the game, then land on Joel, leaning against the doorframe sipping on a beer, his eyes on you.

You lean over the counter, popping your ass out, and make him watch as you open your mouth, extend your tongue, and place a salty pretzel on it, closing your lips around your finger and licking it clean.

His expression never changes. Just watches like you want him to, beer bottle clutched in his fist.

“I’ll take these.” Bill’s hand swings across and scoops up the Cheetos, and before you know it, they’re making their way back out of the kitchen.

Joel’s eyes bore into yours as your dad, Bill, and Hank filter out past him. He’s mad, you can tell that much. He paces over to you.

“Knock. It. Off.” His voice is a low growl.

You shake your head. “No can do.”

He sighs, gripping your wrist. Before you can take a breath, he’s dragging you out of the kitchen and upstairs, where he makes a right and almost shoves you down the dim hallway.

“The hell is your game?” he hisses when you’re out of earshot of the others.

“Having fun, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to keep everybody from seeing the fun you’re having. Touchin’ and rubbin’, lookin’ at me like that in front of everyone. The damn popsicle.”

“You liked that, huh?”

“You gettin’ off on this?”

“Mhm.” You nod a little too desperately.

“Well, quit it. When we’re alone, fine, do whatever you want. Not when your dad’s watchin’.”

“My dad ain’t seeing none of it and you know it.”

He runs a hand through his hair and brings it down over his eyes. Seeing him this stressed and undone over you, over what you’re doing to him, sends pulses of electricity through your body.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you, girl?”

You shrug. “Maybe you should punish me.”

“Maybe I fuckin’ should,” he spits, turning away from you.

As if just hearing what you said, he turns on his heel, staring you down with an expression you read to mean one thing: he’s fucking considering it.

“Maybe I fuckin’ should…” he whispers again.

You try to keep your cool façade up, but the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark, jaw clenched, towering over you and cornering you against the wall, has you so wet and needy that you can’t pretend anymore.

“Joel…”

Whatever you were about to say is cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Joel reacts before you do, reaching behind you to pull a door open and backing you into his linen closet, quietly following you in and closing the door again.

There are just inches between you both, pressed chest to chest in the tiny confines of the closet. Joel’s head tilts and listens for Hank’s figure, stumbling back and forth across the landing in pursuit of the bathroom.

“Where’d you say it was, Bill?” he calls downstairs.

“First door on the right, dumbass!” Bill’s voice shouts back up.

Joel’s fist suddenly wraps around the handle, his eyes glued to the wall above your head, listening intently. He’s making sure Hank doesn’t try the wrong door.

Which, of course, he inevitably does.

It rattles some, but Joel’s grip stops the handle from turning. He glares up, shaking his head, mouthing profanities. First door, you fuckin’ moron. You stifle a laugh behind both hands.

“Hank!” your dad’s voice shouts from downstairs. “Not that one, idiot, the one next to it!”

Finally, the door stops trembling.

“I see it now, sure enough,” Hank mumbles, and you both listen to him spill into the bathroom next door.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding in your chest. Joel lifts his hand off of the door handle and places it around your jaw.

“You’re gonna be real quiet, alright?”

He’s speaking so low and so quiet that your eyes track his lips to read the words he’s saying.

“Gonna do what I say and keep that pretty little mouth shut.”

You squirm under his touch, hands gripping his shoulders, desperate for him to kiss you.

Instead, he holds your jaw tight and forces you to look at him.

“Say it.”

“I’ll be quiet,” you breathe, “I’ll be good. Just fucking touch me.”

He runs his tongue along your bottom lip then, asking it to part, and when it does, pulls you roughly against him, free hand dropping to your ass. His tongue battles strong against yours, bittersweet with the taste of beer.

You feel yourself intoxicated with the taste of him, the smell of him, the feeling as his hips purposefully rut into yours. You want him to mark you again, give you something to hide, something to make half-assed excuses over when people spot it. You want him to make you his.

You moan into his mouth, hands finding his hair, and he grips you tighter.

“Shut – the fuck – up,” he snaps between kisses.

He pauses only to listen to Hank tumble out of the bathroom and back downstairs, then gives you a peck on the lips with a cocky smile.

Suddenly he’s at your neck, lips kissing, tongue licking, teeth grazing, and then he’s making his way down, over your breasts, breath hot and unsteady on your heaving chest.

You can hear the booming laughter of the men downstairs. Their shouts and calls at the television. It all echoes up the stairs, floating in under the slit of light from the hallway outside.

Joel’s on his knees now, placing delicate kisses up your thighs. His hands pull your weight onto his shoulders, fingers taking hold of the hem of your skirt and hiking it up. When he reaches your underwear, he looks up, a dark look in his eyes. A question.

“Quiet,” you mutter, nodding, and buck your hips toward him in attempt to hurry him the fuck up.

He smirks at your neediness and kisses you over the lacey fabric of your panties. You bite your lip to keep a moan from escaping your lips. Joel’s eyebrows raise, waiting for you to make a sound. When you don’t, he pulls the fabric back.

He positions himself perfectly at your sex, pulling your thighs a little wider apart over his shoulders. Your head falls against the wall behind you, but your eyes stay locked on him, watching every little move he makes.

He starts by placing his lips against your clit gently, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. He’s soft, warm, but with a hunger for more.

He sucks there for a minute, your hips rolling against his mouth, vision becoming clouded with stars in the darkness of the closet. Your hands tease his hair, gripping and pulling harder the more pressure he applies to your core, the closer he drags you to your high.

When he pulls away, a tiny gasp passes your lips. You expect him to get mad, punish you for making noise, but he just grins to himself and dives back in.

His tongue licks along your folds and you have to bite down on your sleeve this time. It’s no use, your moan breaks free and fills the tiny space, but Joel’s groaning too as he tastes you for the second time in three days.

“So – fucking – good for me, darlin’,” he whispers when he comes up for air, then gets right back to it.

His fingers grip your thighs so tight it almost hurts, keeping you steady. His head drops a little lower, and you feel his breath across your lips.

“Joel,” you moan, and he looks up. “Need your tongue.”

When he drags it between your folds and dips ever so slightly inside you, your back arches, shoulders digging into the wall. You’re doing everything not to scream, his tongue lapping you up, nose rubbing against your clit, but you’re nearing closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Keep – going – fuck, Joel,” you breathe, eyes screwed shut, hands tangling in his hair, pulling his head closer against you.

“Shh,” he’s cooing now against your cunt, pulling a hand under your thigh to insert two fingers as his tongue massages your clit. “I know, I know,” he says, lifting his chin. “Poor baby just wanted some attention, huh?”

You smile, eyes closing in bliss as his tongue reattaches to your core. You whimper his name as your walls start to close around him.

Just then, a roar lets out from the living room, and the coil snaps. You cry out, moaning Joel’s name as you cum on his tongue, your sweet noises drowned out by the thunderous cheers from downstairs.

You swear you feel Joel smirk against your wetness as you unravel for him.

You’re panting, hands still clinging onto his hair for stability, as he pulls away from your cunt and leans back. He gently rolls your thighs off of his shoulders and helps you to stand, before his tall figure straightens up in front of you.

You instinctively grab his shirt and pull his lips against yours, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue. Joel’s breath hitches when your teeth graze his bottom lip and you pull away, releasing it.

“I fucking love this,” you mutter, and he laughs.

“Yeah? I just missed a whole inning ‘cause of you.”

“Worth it.” You smile as he opens the door, checking the coast is clear before letting you out first.

“Where the hell you two been?” your dad asks as you both rejoin the group.

“Missed one hell of a play, you pair.” Hank raises his glass toward the television.

You sit a little distance from each other on the couch, your needs fully satisfied, and Joel clears his throat.

“Was showin’ her my new six-string.”

You notice him out of the corner of your eye licking his lips. Fucker.

Your dad shakes his head with a laugh, spinning the recliner back to face the screen. “First baseball, now guitars. What has gotten into you, lately, hon?”

“Hey, Joel?” Bill sits forward, leaning over the coffee table to Joel, who lifts his head in reply. “You mind showin’ me that six-string after the game?”

You choke on your beer and Hank’s hand comes up to clap you on the back. “You alright, girl?”

“Maybe, maybe,” Joel replies, trying to ignore you, coughing and spluttering at his side.

With a few more good whacks from Hank and a clean sip of your drink, you recover just enough to join the conversation.

“It’s a really neat guitar, Bill.”

----------

taglist: @yvonneeeee @brittmb115 @subconsciouscollapse @leahlovestwd @peqchsoup @whorror-s @k1ttybean @whichwitchwanda @abuttoncalledsmalls @anner--nanner @jpbplvr @laysmt @ankhmutes @bookishhella @cannolighost @luvrking @mellymbee @yourwinchesterbros @serenaxpedro @nostalxgic @scottstotts @daiseygriffithx @letsgroovetonighttt (let me know if u wanna be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dom!joel miller #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #fic: cowboy like me

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mj0702 · 3 months

Text

Lunatic wanted a follow up to "Babysitting"...

“Oh my….” Olga said as you entered the living room after you watched Alexia sprint off in the direction you told her – she should know better than to trust you but now she’s getting a free workout thanks to you

“What exactly were you thinking Pequeña?” Olga asked standing up to inspect your new hair and “tattoo”

“I thought it was time for a change…. Leave the past behind… start a new chapter in me book of life” you grinned

“I bet you were… please tell me this isn’t permanent” the brown haired woman combed through your blue and dark red hair

“You don’t like it?” you pouted

“Certainly different…” Olga mumbled

“Why didn’t you ask me if the tattoo is permanent?” you wondered

“Because I use my brain compared to my lovely hotheaded girlfriend… there’s no way you could’ve gotten a whole sleeve in one afternoon” the woman rolled her eyes “Also… no aftercare… no lotion… no wrapping… not permanent”

“Damn you good” you exclaimed bewildered

“I learned to have an eye for details” Olga laughed “… my job requires that”

“I always forget that you’re unholy smart” you mumbled a little disappointed that you couldn’t fool her

“Also… I always take a second look… not like Alexia who just sprints off in the wrong direction” the brown haired woman winked “… didn’t think you would go against her to save Jenni ass”

“Yeah well… Jenni is kinda cool” you shrugged as you moved towards the kitchen to get a water

“Just because she let’s you do whatever you want” Olga laughed “… how much sugar did she give you?”

“Not much… candy cotton, three slushies, some purple Candies…. They were good… she told me she always had them as a kid…” you leaned against the counter but your body was vibrating with energy

“Ah… Dulces de La Violeta… very popular in the Madrid region… it’s going to be a nightmare to get you to bed tonight” Olga hummed as she heard the front door open again

“I couldn’t find this maldita estupida …” Alexia huffed angrily as she entered the kitchen ad well

“Alexia” Olga scolded her girlfriend for swearing

“What?! It’s not like I’m calling her something bad” the blonde rolled her eyes

“Aren’t you always scolding her when she swears? Lead by example Putellas” the brown haired woman gave her girlfriend “the look”

“Lo siento” Alexia huffed but Olga and you heard immediately she wasn’t sorry at all

“Embrace your anger and find a way to deal with the sugar rush the Pequeña is having” Olga said as she left clapping her girlfriend on the shoulder as she pasts her

“What sugar rush??” the blonde exclaimed shocked looking after her girlfriend before turning back to you studying you closely

“Dunno what she means” you shrugged your shoulders not meeting Alexias eyes

“Cariño… look at me” Alexia said sternly and after you didn’t she came right up to you grabbing your chin making you look at her before she groaned “Mierda Jennifer Hermoso!!”

“Olga!!!! Ale said “Fuck”!!!” you immediately yelled

“You know the rules Alexia… five Euros into the swear jar” you both heard Olga from the living room

“Why do I have to pay five and the Cariño always just has to pay one ore two??!!” the blonde argued

“You earn more money” you snickered

“You’re older and should know better… and if you don’t stop arguing I’ll make it 10” Olga said back and you could HEAR her rolling her eyes

“Ugh” Alexia groaned bit didn’t argue any further

“Whipped” you mumbled grinning

“Don’t worry Cariño… I’ll whip your ass too” now the blonde grinned

“Not really my thing… sorry…. I mean G and I experiment a lot but that really does nothing for me…” you smirked knowing Alexia didn’t mean it the way you decided to pick up

“What?” the blonde asked confused

“Whipping… not really a sexual turn on for me” you shrugged and pushed past her

“I didn’t mean anything sexual” Alexia exclaimed still not understanding what you meant “and where are you going???”

“Olga” you said nonchalantly “… she’s more fun than you”

“Excuse me?” the blonde spaniard came after you “… I think I’m the most fun adult!”

“Keep telling that yourself” you rolled your eyes as you threw yourself on top of Olga who was laying on the couch

“I AM!!” Alexia said seriously

“You are not Amor… you’re a good responsible adult… which automatically makes you no fun…” Olga chuckled while you wriggled around trying to find a comfortable position “You done?”

“No” you whined “Can’t get comfy”

“Because you’re still on a sugar high…. Go with Alexia and get it out of your system” the brown haired woman chuckled pushing you off her.

“She’s going to be mean to me because she had to pay a fiver…” you whined and Olga laughed at Alexias disbelieved face

“disculpe???” the blonde exclaimed

“Ugh I hate the word… stupid dislocation” you rolled your eyes

“You know very well it has nothing to do with dislocation” Alexia huffed “… come on before Olga kicks us both… gym time”

“I don’t wanna go gym time… I wanna stay with Olga” you whined and held on to the arm of Alexias girlfriend as the spanish captain tried to pull you away

“You coming with me” Alexia said through gritted teeth after she wrapped her arms around your torso pulling you back even harder which resulted in Olga getting pulled off the Couch since you wouldn’t let go

“Alexia stop…” Olga said laughing “… let’s try something else”

“No… I let her get away with a lot of stuff but at some point I have to draw a line” the blonde said seriously and you choose her little distraction to let go of Olga so Alexia suddenly had no counterweight and flew backwards with you in her arms

Thankfully Alexia had very good reflexes and before the two of you would hit the ground she found her footing again stumbling backwards into the hallway hitting the bookshelf who stopped your little Journey abruptly. The blonde groaned darkly as her back hit the shelf and your weight hit her front pushing her even harder into the wooden furniture. What happened next nobody would’ve believed you. Alexia was still squished between you and the bookshelf when two books from the top fell to the ground – followed by a Ballon D’Or. The same Ballon D’or Mapí and you broke month ago. It was dead quiet in the Putellas-Rios household. You watched the golden Ball roll down the Hallway when you heard a pained squeak behind you

“Uh oh” you said dryly still watching the ball rolling away with Alexias arms still around your torso

“My… my… my…” Alexia stammered behind you in shocked disbelief

“You broke the ugly Trophy” you said matching her tone

“I… no… I held the Ballon D’Or so many times – it doesn’t break that easily” the blonde said horrified

“Well… OBVIOUSLY it does” you pointed at the ball which now laid in a corner down the hallway

“Are you both okay?” Olga came our of the living room

“Yeah” you said nodding

“No” Alexia said simultaneously

“What’s wrong amor.. are you hurt?” the brown haired woman asked concerned

“My…” the blonde stammered again and you jumped in

“The ugly Trophy broke” you pointed down the hallway at the golden Ball “… Alexia broke it… but I don’t know why it such a big deal… she has a second one… a not broken one”

“Oh Amor” Olga said sympathetically carefully removing her arms from around your body to step into them the second you sneaked out of them

“I don’t know how this…” Alexia was still utterly shocked as her head found her girlfriends shoulder

“It’s okay… we gonna take it to a jewelry shop tomorrow and ask if they can repair it… it’s okay Amor” the brown haired woman said softly

“Can I go watch TV?” you ask carefully not wanting the attention on you

“No… gym… now” Alexia lifted her head from her girlfriends shoulder staring at you

“But…” you whined

“Y/n…” the blonde warned and you knew shit was hitting the fan – she used your real name

“Amor… stay fair… she’s still a kid… she” Olga said softly as you speed walked down the corridor towards Alexias home gym

“She’s the reason my Ballon D’Or is broken” Alexia bit back

“She didn’t mean too and you know it… she’s not a bad person… she’s a kid that finally found a place where she can be herself – don’t take that away from her Amor… she looks up to you… seeking your approval… or do you really think she would stay with us if she wouldn’t love you?” the brown haired woman asked softly

“Stop being logical and make me less mad at her” the blonde grumbled knowing her girlfriend was right

“That’s why you keep me around” Olga winked

“That and your cooking” Alexia smiled back

“Now go on… have some time with “your kid”… isn’t that what everyone calls her?” the brown haired woman pushed Alexia towards the home gym

“Cariño” Alexia said carefully as she found you crouching behind the treadmill

“I really didn’t mean to” you said and Alexia heard the little crack in your voice

“I know Cariño… come here…” the blonde held out her but you didn’t take it

“I’m not mad Cari… was I upset? Yes… but I’m not anymore and I was never mad… come here Cari…” Alexia tried to coax you out of your “hiding place”

“I pay for it I promise” you said quickly not really listening to what the blonde is saying

“You don’t need to Cariño… but I need you to come out from behind the treadmill” the blonde spaniard said softly “… come on Cari…”

“You’re mad… you used me name.. you so so mad at me” you stammered and sinking back even more making yourself smaller

“I’m not mad Cariño… I promise” Alexia kept her voice soft “I’m sorry for scaring you… can you please try and tell me what I can do to make you feel better?”

“Keira always hugs me when I get overwhelmed” you mumbled

“Thank you for telling me Cari… I won’t touch you until you tell me you want it… but can you tell me what overwhelmed you?” the blonde asked sitting down opposite to you but with some space between you two

“I don’t know… my whole body feels itchy and then you got mad and…” you rambled starting to scratch the back of your hands and Alexia decided to jump in and quickly took your hands in hers

“No scratching Cari… you’re okay… your body is unsettled because of all the sugar Jenni gave you…” Alexia said gently bringing your hands up to her lips pressing a soft kiss on them “… can I hug you Cariño?”

“Nuh-hu” you shook your head and Alexia felt a little stab to her heart

“Okay Cari… that’s okay… but we need to get that energy out of your body… do you want to go down to the beach and run it off?” the blonde kept her voice light not showing how it did hurt her that you didn’t want her to touch you

“Sí por favor” you mumbled

“In catalan?” Alexia smiled slightly

“Si, si us….” you wrecked your brain

“Plau” the blonde smiled

“sí, sí us plau” you smiled happily

“molt bé” Alexia praised you before standing up leaving the gym “I’ll wait at the door when you’re ready”

“Olga we’re back” Alexia said two hours later as she unlocked the door

“Why don’t I hear… oh my” Olga asked alarmed before she saw you hanging on Alexias back sleeping soundly “Did you carry her back?”

“Yeah… we made it all the way down to Baldona… then she asked for a break and the second she sat down she was out” the blonde answered as she made her way down the hallway to “your” room

“You could’ve called… you know I would have picked you up” her girlfriend said following the blonde

“I would have… if my phone wasn’t on the kitchen counter” Alexia said as she carefully laid you down on your bed

“She’s all sweaty… you can’t just put her in bed” Olga whisper yelled

“What should I do??? Take a shower with her on my back?” the blonde whisper yelled back

“Well… no” her girlfriend looked a little lost “… at least get her out of her clothes”

“What? I’m not doing that” Alexia exclaimed shocked making you stir

“Ssssshhhh” Olga shushed harshly “… don’t you dare wake her up”

“I’m not going to undress her…” Alexia whispered firmly

“God… don’t be such a coño about it” the dark haired woman rolled her eyes and started to carefully get you out of your running clothes before she pulled the thin blanket over you and got rewarded with a happy sigh

“Pequeña…” you heard a warm voice next to you “Vamos Pequeña… time to wake up”

“Five more minutes mom” you mumbled turning away

“No no… up now” Olga chuckled starting to gently shake you

“Nooooo… me tired” you whined

“I know Pequeña… but if you want to go with Alexia to training you have to get up” the woman stroke through your colored hair

“She knows the way… don’t need me” you sighed relaxing under Olgas gentle touch

“If you’re not up in five minutes I’ll send Alexia up to get you out of bed” Olga chuckled when she saw how you starting to fall back asleep

“No please don’t” you shot up nearly knocking Olga off the bed who laughed heartwarming

“Knew that would do the trick” the brown haired woman laughed getting up “Shower, teeth, breakfast”

“How can such a nice woman can have such a dark evil soul” you grumbled falling out of bed

“Years of hard training Pequeña” Olga laughed as she left the room

“Bon dia Cariño” Alexia smiled as you basically fell into the kitchen and into her side

“no dia… no bon” you mumbled against her shoulder as she hugged you lightly not stopping to stirr the eggs in the pan “Olga és tan dolenta”

“She’s not” Alexia laughed “She made coffee”

You immediately let go of Alexia and fell into Olgas body hugging her tightly

“T’estimo” you mumbled making Olga and Alexia burst out laughing

“Here Pequeña… drink that and wake up” Olga laughed holding a cup of coffee under your nose

“Cariño!!!!! We need to go!!” Alexia yelled down the hallway

“Coming” you yelled back sprinting out of your room slamming stuff into your bag

“What you got in there?” the blonde asked smiling holding open the door

“Two shorts… two shirts… socks… drinks… food… waterbaloons…” you listed off quickly

“Cleats?” Alexia asked

“Mierda” you exclaimed running back towards the house

“This girl I swear” the blonde mumbled under her breath

“Got em” you panted as you flew into the passenger seat

“Mhm… now hand them over” Alexia said holding out her hand

“Ehrm.. okay?” you looked at her confused and placed your cleats on her palm

“Not your cleats” the blonde rolled her eyes “… the waterbaloons”

“Come ooooon” you groaned

“Vamos Pequeña… we’re already late and I’m not driving off until you hand them over” Alexia wriggled her fingers in a “gimme” motion

You groaned loudly again but opened your zipper pulling out a package of 50 balloons slapping them into Alexias hand

“Good… now the second package too” the spaniard grinned

“What? I don’t ha…” you started and Alexia raised an eyebrow and you grumpily pulled out the second pack hidden under your clothes

“Gracias Cariño” Alexia smiled happily

“Yeah yeah” you grumbled sinking back into the seat as Alexia started the cat driving towards camp Nuo

“Both of you will pay for that” a head to toe soaked Alexia pressed out sending death glares towards you and Mapí

“Come on Capi…. You looked so… overheated.. we just wanted to help” Mapí laughed and you were thrown into a new fit of laughter at the look on Alexias face

“Mhm… I’ll help you two too in a second” the blonde huffed starting to sprint in your and Mapís direction

“Shit… Maps run!!!” you quickly got up from the grass helping your friend up before running in a different direction followed by Mapí

“Not in my direction you estupida!!!” you panted “Run somewhere else… she can’t split herself so only one is getting caught”

“Uh good idea neña!” Maps said and suddenly she turned right and was gone with Alexia hot on her heels which meant you were safe – or so you thought.

You turned around the next corner already going slower but still couldn’t stop in time so you ran straight into Ingrid

“Woah… slow down Kjæreste… where’s the fire?!” the norwegian steady you before you could fall over

“It’s a whole wildfire…” you mumbled “… it’s called Alexia”

“What have you done?” Ingrid asked raising her eyebrow

“Nothing bad… I’m off the hook anyway because she chose to chase Maps” you smiled sweetly

“You were unsupervised with Mapí?” the norwegian asked shocked

“Not really… but it’s very hot outside… so we thought… balloons” you said ashamed

“Oh dear God… Don’t tell me you soaked Alexia” the norwegian groaned

“From head to toe” you smiled proudly “Bur she chose Maps as a Tribute… so I’m good”

“Of course she chose María Kjæreste… you LIVE with her… of course she chose the One who doesn’t have to go home with her” Ingrid laughed

“Shit” you exclaimed shocked “... I didn’t think of that”

“Yeah I got that…” the norwegian laughed before tipping your forehead “… think first”

“I’m so dead” you whined as Ingrid turned around

“Oh Kjæreste… nice hair” the norwegian smiled before she vanished into a room

“Pequeña… it’s nearly 6 o’clock” Olga yelled from the kitchen

“I’m dead” you groaned from your bed after Alexia put you through the grinder for soaking her after training

“You’re not… come on… you know how much your sister looks forward to talk to you” the brown haired woman appeared in your door

“I’m coming” you groaned painfully rolling off the bed shuffling after Olga into the living room where your laptop already was set up for your video chat with Lucy and Keira

But before the call could even start Alexia came around corner with a puffy jacket and a wooly hat.

“Put this on” the blonde held the two things out her voice stern

“What?? It has like 4 million degrees” you looked at her bewildered

“I don’t care… I refuse to let Lucia see your state… Put. These. On!” Alexia said “Or I will put it on you”

You quickly slipped into the jacket as Alexia pulled the hat over your head

“Happy?” you grumbled already feeling sweat forming under the wooly hat

“Mucho” the blonde spaniard smiled sweetly and you knew it was fake so you rolled your eyes when you hear the familiar ringtone

“Hey Luce” you smiled happily when your sisters face appeared on the screen

“Hola Bu… what are you wearing?” Lucy smile disappeared her look pure confusion

“Oh wait… hey Kei” you ignored Lucys question in favor of accepting Keiras request to join the call

“Oh Bitsy… are you sick again?” Keira immediately jumped to the worst scenario

“No no… I’m fine… the loco chica makes me wear it” you said tipping your temple with your finger

“I hope I misheard you!” Alexia yelled from the kitchen listening to your conversation with half an ear

“You probably did… old people often have hearing problems” you yelled back making Lucy and Keira burst out laughing

“Good to see you’re still my Bubs…” Lucy laughed “… you keeping Alexia on her toes?”

“Sí…. Mapí and I soaked her with waterbaloons today” you said happily and even Alexia had a slight smile on her lips seeing you talk to Keira and Lucy with hands and feet and a million miles an hour

“Bitsy… I can see the sweat running down your face from here… take that stupid hat off… and while you’re at it… lose the jacket too” Keira said after a while

You sighed happily as you pulled off the hat and before you knew it you heard Lucy squeak and suddenly she was… gone

“Lucy??” you asked coming closer to the screen

“She fell over with the chair” you heard a new voice

“Oni!!!” you clapped happily looking like a child on Christmas morning

“Hola Bebita” Onas face appeared from the side of the screen

“Bitsy….” you flinched as you head Keiras voice

“Yes?” you asked carefully but before she could say something your sisters head came back into the frame

“I’m good… I’m back” Lucy panted

“Wonderful Lucy…” Keira rolled her eyes “… but no one cares”

“I thought some time on the beach would burn your bitterness away Walsh… clearly I was wrong” your sister deadpanned

“Uuuuhhh…” you looked excited

“I thought being 30+ years on this earth taught you balance” Keira shot back

“I got surprised!!” Lucy defended herself “… I mean look at her”

“Ey!! Princess Norwegian said I looked nice” you exclaimed

“You look… …. ….” Keira tried to find the right word when her girlfriend help her out from off the screen

“Interesting” Laura offered

“… yeah… no… different… you look different Bitsy” the English woman said

“I got new hair” you smiled

“I know Bitsy… I have eyes… but what possessed you to get these hair???” Keira asked

“Jenni and I got bored…” you shrugged your shoulders

“Jenni? Hermoso?” Lucy asked confused

“Yeah… she’s so cool… she also let me get a tattoo” you said smiling showing your arm

“Bitsy!!!!” Keira yelled angrily

Lucy fainted. You grinned proudly.

#alexia putellas x reader #olga rios #woso image #lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader

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justagalwhowrites · 3 months

Text

Yearling No Outbreak AU - Ch. 1: Rodeo

When Ellie sees you riding at a rodeo, she knows you have to teach her. Chapter 1 of the Yearling No Outbreak AU found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Yearling

CW: Fluff, Joel is a really dedicated father and we love that for him and for us, friends to lovers, no use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 4.1k

AO3 | Main Masterlist

Sunday, November 2, 2025

“No freakin’ way.”

Ellie’s eyes were wide and she was smiling bigger than Joel had seen her smile in what seemed like forever as she watched the rodeo.

It had been his idea to take her to the fair. He thought it would be good for her - get out, have some fun, take her mind off things for a bit. He offered to bring along a friend of hers from school, too, but she just gave him a look.

“What,” she said. “Going to fly Riley in from Boston?”

“Was kinda hopin’ someone a bit more local,” he said, awkwardly cupping the back of his neck. “Must have someone you’d like to hang out with…”

“Welp,” she said, flopping back on her bed and holding her comic book over her head. “Then I’m afraid you’re shit outta luck, old man.”

He wasn’t sure how much fun she’d have just hanging out with him all day but she’d seemed to be having a good enough time. He showed her how to shoot the air rifles at the games and she dragged him through a fun house and they both delighted in all the deep fried snack options.

It had been Ellie who wanted to go to the rodeo. Joel hadn’t been to one in years, not since he was close to Ellie’s age and he’d gone with his dad at this same fair, but it was something that Ellie wanted to do. And, after the last few years, he was happy to do whatever made her happy.

He just hadn’t expected her to fall completely in love with the horses and one rider in particular.

“We got a real special treat for y’all here today,” the announcer had said. “Now, she ain’t competing today - and let me tell you, every man in the building is thankful she ain’t because they’ve all lost to her at one time or another - but we have the one, the only queen of the rodeo scene doing a showcase in a few events today, startin’ with trick riding. Five time world champion -“

There was a loud whoop from behind Joel and he missed your name but he watched as you rode out into the arena, standing on the backs of two horses, a foot on each animal, one hand on the reins and the other high in the air waving at the crowd as you guided the horses past the stands. He watched - just as in awe as Ellie - as you jumped the horses and threw your body around on them as though you were a gymnast on a bar and not a 2,000 pound animal.

He was awed again when, between other events, you stayed on the back of bucking bronco far longer than any of the competitors and again when you demonstrated roping calves. He didn’t think the announcer had been joking when he said the men here were thankful you weren’t competing, he had a feeling you blew them out of the water every time.

“Hey Joel,” Ellie said when a girl who reminded Joel of Sarah when she was younger was doing her trick riding routine. “She’s out there again! I think she’s a coach…”

He looked where Ellie was pointing and she was right, you were standing at the edge of the arena, switching between fidgeting with your necklace and yelling as the girl nearly dragged on the ground from the side of the horse.

“Think you’re right,” Joel said.

“Think she teaches lessons or something?” Ellie asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I dunno baby girl…” Joel said, hesitant.

“Can we find out?” She looked back out at the arena. “Because that looks so fucking cool.”

“Language,” Joel said and he caught her eye roll out of the corner of his eye. He sighed. “But yeah, we can see if we can track ‘er down after the rodeo, see if she’ll teach you. She may not be anywhere around here, though…”

But Ellie looked so fascinated, so happy, Joel knew that the location didn’t matter much. He’d figure something out.

After the rodeo, the two of them made their way around, against the flow of people, finding the entrance to the place where the livestock and competitors were and Joel caught sight of you, talking to the girl who reminded him so much of a young Sarah. A man stopped to talk to you and you gave him some direction before he came toward where Joel and Ellie were standing and watching.

“‘Scuse me,” Joel said as he went past. He stopped, frowning slightly at Joel. “Sorry to bother you but… well, we were wondering if you knew that woman there, the one who was doing the showcase riding before.”

“Oh, yeah,” he laughed. “I know her alright. That’s my sister.”

Joel tried to ignore the way his heart beat a little faster knowing that this guy wasn’t your husband.

“Can I help you with anything?” He continued. “She’s also my boss, I work at her ranch.”

“Was wondering if she did any teaching…” Joel said.

“Because I really want to learn how to do that shit,” Ellie cut her off. “So fucking cool.”

“Ellie!” He gave her a look. “Come on, baby girl, language.”

“Sorry,” she flinched.

Joel looked back to the man.

“Anyway,” he said. “Was hoping she was taking new students…”

“She is,” the man said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a business card, handing it over to Joel. The words Triton Ranch were embossed on the front. “I’m Richie, you can email me there and I can help get you all set up for…”

“Can you believe this shit?” You stalked up to Richie, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Been out here for 30 years and there’s still this sexist bullshit…”

You seemed to notice Joel and Ellie standing there then, looking them up and down before raising your eyebrows to your brother.

“Some new potential clients,” Richie said. “Interested in riding lessons.”

You looked between Joel and Ellie again.

“Which one of you?” You asked.

“Me,” Ellie said, sounding almost giddy.

“Good,” you said. “Need more women out here, some of these men… We’re based near Austin, that work for you two?”

“Perfect,” Joel said, trying to not stare at you because damn were you pretty, especially this close. “That’s where we are, too.”

“Tuesday, 5:30 p.m.,” you said. “Come with boots with a one inch heel on ‘em, you need something to help you stay in stirrups. I got other safety gear you can use… HEY ASSHOLE!”

You stormed off mid-sentence, stalking up to a man who didn’t look remotely prepared to deal with you grabbing him roughly by the shoulder and yanking him around to face you before shoving him back.

“Alright, that’s my cue to go rein her in before she does any real damage,” Richie said, going to follow you. “See you Tuesday, 5:30!”

“Tuesday, 5:30!” Ellie called back before turning to beam at Joel. “This is going to be awesome.”

Joel watched as Richie pulled you back from the man you were trying to pick a fight with, your eyes going wide like fawn, a look of almost innocent indignity on your face as your brother stepped in. Joel resisted the urge to smile a little, the idea of something like Bambi picking a fight. You were… something.

“Think you’re right,” he said.

***

Tuesday

“Savvy, that horse is gonna walk all over you if you keep lettin’ her do that,” you said, watching her from near the fence, your thumb looped through your husband’s wedding band that hung from a chain around your neck. You fidgeted with it, sliding it back and forth as you tried not to panic at your daughter being on the back of a dumb broke horse, tried to remind yourself that you’d been on unbroke horses younger than she was now, tried not to hear Mark’s voice in your head, already nervous about Savvy wanting to go into the same line of work as you. “You gotta be firmer than you’re used to…”

“She’s not responding though,” she said, huffy.

“Because she’s not well broke yet,” you said. “You’re the one who said you wanted to try your hand at breaking horses, you gotta keep them under control…”

Nova, the horse Savvy was on, started pawing anxiously at the ground, tossing her head.

“Savvy,” you said cautiously, stepping closer and gripping the wedding band tightly now. “Ease up, she’s gettin’ restless, dismount if you can…”

She nodded but when she adjusted, the horse bucked and you shot forward as Savvy gave a sharp shriek, ending up on her back. You had to jump to grab the reins out of the air and did your best to pull Nova into a one rein stop from on the ground as Savvy scrambled out of the way. Nova stilled quickly, her nostrils flaring.

“You OK baby girl?” You called to Savvy, keeping your eyes on Nova, staring her down.

“I’m OK,” she called back weakly. “But ow.”

You laughed a little.

“Told you you were gonna get thrown at some point,” you said before reaching a hand up to pet Nova’s muzzle. “And what’s your excuse, young lady? Hm?”

She huffed.

“Can’t go throwin’ people,” you said. “You think you get treats when you behave that way? Hm? Because now I gotta get on you and take you around real quick to make sure you know you can’t get out of shit by doin’ that and neither of us is going to be happy about it.”

She huffed again.

“Well, s’long as we’re in agreement,” you said, keeping the reins in your hand as you ran it over her side. You mounted her and she tossed her head. “Savvy, back behind the fence.”

She sighed.

“Yes, Mom.”

You kept a tight hold on Nova, your knees tighter to her ribs than they usually would be. You eased her into a walk, then a trot, gradually up to a gallup as you took her around the pasture before realizing that you had an audience, the large, handsome man from the rodeo a few days earlier with his teenaged daughter standing at the fence with Savvy and Richie as you rode back around. You brought Nova over and pulled her to a stop near them, the man watching you with a small, crooked smile on his face and fuck, he was handsome. Tall, broad, tan. Exactly your type when it came to men.

“Now I know you didn’t forget,” Richie smirked a little and you wanted to kick him. Just because he knew this guy was your type didn’t mean he had to rub it in. “This is Joel and Ellie, they’re here for her lesson.”

You nodded, catching your breath a little before introducing yourself.

“And I didn’t forget,” you said, shooting Richie a glare. “Just had to get wild thing here under control before I put her away for the day. Don’t worry, Ellie, not putting you on her. I’ve got just the horse to get you started on.”

You dismounted and gave Nova an approving pat before turning to Savvy.

“Can I trust you to get her settled?” You asked, brows raised.

“I can do it!” She said, a little defensive.

“Alright,” you said, and she climbed the fence and took the reins from you. You shed your hat now that you needed to look up at Joel and jerked your head toward the barn. “Follow me.”

Ellie was on you like glue and you looked down to see that she was in a pair of cowboy boots.

“Good,” you said, nodding at the shoes. “You’ll be thankful for those when you’re trying to get a grip on a horse. You ever ridden before?”

“We did a trail ride once,” she said. “But that was a few years ago, right?”

She looked back over her shoulder toward Joel.

“Yeah,” he said. “Before… Yeah, it was about three years ago now.”

You nodded.

“Take it you like animals?” You said as you made your way through the stables, going for the stall of the horse you’d had Richie get ready for this lesson. “Sure hope so, since you want to learn riding.”

“Hell yeah,” Ellie said.

“Ellie,” Joel said, a warning tone in his voice.

“Sorry,” she said, rolling her eyes. You smiled. “Yes. I do. Even though Joel won’t let me get a dog.”

“We can talk about it when you’re off school for the summer,” he said and you tried not to frown. If she was calling him Joel, he wasn’t her dad. You hoped this girl hadn’t been through too much, she seemed like a good kid.

“Well,” you said, coming to a stop at the stall. “You can come hang out with Shimmer here even if he doesn’t let you get a dog.”

Ellie’s face lit up, looking at the horse with a huge smile on her face.

“Shimmer is a rescue,” you said, reaching up to scratch behind her ears. “Got her when she was a yearling a few years back from an unlicensed breeding operation. Poor thing was underfed and skittish as hell but she came around. She’s a real sweet, gentle horse and she loves when people can be real sweet and gentle with her. Think you can do that?”

“Yeah,” Ellie said, smiling at you. “Definitely.”

“Good,” you smiled back, reaching to a bin mounted between stalls and pulling some feed out. “Hand out, palm flat.”

She obeyed and you gave her the feed. Her eyes went a little wide.

“Now keep your palm real flat and hold it out for her,” you said. “You’ll feel her teeth kinda brush your skin a bit but she won’t hurt ya.”

She obeyed and looked on in awe as Shimmer ate from her hand.

“Go ahead and give her a pet,” you said when the feed was gone. “Let her smell you first and once she nudges your hand, she’s OK with you touchin’ her.”

Ellie did as she was told, Shimmer pressing her nose into her hand almost immediately now that she’d associated Ellie with food. You smiled a little as Ellie beamed.

“Hey Shimmer!” Ellie said affectionately, petting her gently. “Aren’t you just the prettiest thing?”

Shimmer chuffed happily and Ellie looked back at Joel.

“She likes me!”

Joel chuckled.

“Yeah, think she does.”

“How about we take her out, get you on her,” you said before turning to Joel. “Just assuming Richie got you all set with the paperwork and whatnot?”

“He did,” Joel nodded.

“Good,” you said. “Thank God for him, lord knows I don’t got the mind for the paper pushing side of this operation.”

You nudged the two of them back and got Shimmer out, giving her an affectionate pat as you led her toward the pasture.

You worked with Ellie for two hours and she was a natural. She was very in tune with her horse, learning how to apply pressure and how to work with her body weight quickly. Before too long, she was ready to do more than walk her a little and you got your favorite horse, Perseus, out of the stable, only putting a bit and bridle on him before jumping on him bareback so you could keep pace with Ellie on a trip around the pasture at Shimmer’s natural walking pace.

To your surprise, Joel didn’t go and sit in the car or even scroll on his phone while you worked with Ellie. He just watched, leaning against the post fence with his hands lightly folded in front of him, a small smile on his face as she made progress. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a parent - or parent figure, you supposed - quite so engaged, especially for a first lesson.

“Alright,” you said as the time was up and you dismounted your horse, taking the reins from Ellie. “Hop on down, we can take Shimmer back to her stall and you can say goodbye until next time.”

“I can ride her next time?” She asked, eyes bright.

“Course you can,” you said. “Shimmer can be your horse for a while.”

“Hear that, Joel?” Ellie called, more jumping off the horse than anything else. “Shimmer can be my horse!”

She started running for the fence without paying much mind to where exactly she was running, slipping on a puddle and going down quick into a pile of mud.

“Shit,” you swore, running over to her, just catching Joel damn near hurdling the fence to do the same out of the corner of your eye. You got to Ellie first, kneeling beside her, and she was laughing, flat on her back and covered in mud. You breathed a sigh of relief. “You alright there, kid?”

“I’m good,” she laughed, sitting up and looking at her mud covered hands. “Don’t know if he’ll let me in his truck now, though.”

“Scared me, baby girl,” Joel said, joining you. “You hit your head or anything?”

“Nah,” she said. “Just got nice and gross…”

She reached out and smeared some mud on his arm, near his watch. He tried to look irritated but didn’t quite manage it.

“Alright, kiddo,” he said, standing up again and offering her his hand. “Think there are some towels in the truck…”

“If you’d rather,” you said quickly. “You can shower before you go. I’m sure Savvy has some sweats you can borrow until you’re back.”

“Oh yeah, that’s way better,” Ellie said before Joel got a chance to respond, taking Joel’s hand and wiping her hands on her jeans. It didn’t seem to make much difference. “Because this is - sorry, Joel - fucking gross.”

You laughed.

“Yeah, welcome to ranch life,” you said. “C’mon, we’ll go up to the main house, get you cleaned up a bit.”

You cut through the barn and asked Richie to get Shimmer and Perseus settled before getting Savvy from where she was sitting and reading, perched on a stall door next to Nike, your oldest horse that you’d bought off your old boss when you started your ranch 10 years earlier.

“Savvy, this is Ellie,” you said, introducing the girls. Savvy looked like she was stifling a laugh and waved. “Ellie, this is my daughter Savvy. Savvy, do me a favor, we’re goin’ to the main house to get Ellie cleaned up before she heads home, can you show her where your bathroom is and get her something to wear home?”

“Sure!” She said, hopping down and walking up to Ellie. “Nice to meet you. Are you learning how to ride?”

“Yeah!” Ellie said brightly. “It was so f…freaking cool, I was on Shimmer and she was so soft and…”

“Oh yeah, Shimmer’s the best,” Savvy said knowingly, the two girls walking ahead. You smiled a little, watching them as they talked, fidgeting with Mark’s wedding band again.

“You really don’t gotta go through this much trouble,” Joel said, staying alongside you as you followed the girls to the large white farmhouse you called home. “I’m sure I’ve got some towels in the truck and I’d hate to get your house all muddy…”

You scoffed.

“This is a ranch,” you said. “The house sees mud every day. It’ll live. And it’s no trouble. I’d much rather send you home with a bag of muddy clothes than a muddy kid.”

Savvy led Ellie upstairs, a little trail of mud behind them that made you smile. You’d clean it up later but, strange as it was, you loved the little signs of the life you led now. The one where you worked with horses that were yours or that you picked who to sell them to, got to work with passionate kids like Ellie and got mud on the floors of the house your husband had fixed up for you when you’d bought it for a steal years earlier. You kicked off your boots at the door.

“C’mon,” you said, jerking your head toward the kitchen. “Let me get you a drink.”

Joel just stared at you for a moment before following you, stopping at some of the pictures on wall as you went to the fridge.

“Sweet tea?” You asked. “I got stronger stuff, too, but not sure how much of a drive home you’ve got…”

“Tea’s good,” he said. “Thanks.”

You poured him a tall glass and got one for yourself before joining him at the pictures and handing him the drink.

“Thank you,” he said again and you just nodded, taking a sip yourself and looking at the pictures that you so rarely noticed individually anymore. Savvy’s school portraits, pictures of her on podiums, you at the world championships…

“This your wedding day?” He asked, nodding to one of the bigger pictures, one of you in an floor-length white eyelet lace dress, the toe of your best pair of boots peaking out the bottom as you smiled up at your husband, who was standing beside you in his black jeans, a button down shirt and tie.

“That’s it alright. Me and Mark,” you smiled, toying with the ring around your neck again. “Eleven years ago now. Doesn’t feel like that long but damn has a lot happened.”

“Eleven years is a long time,” Joel said. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, but we only made it nine,” you said, taking a sip of tea and looping the ring onto your thumb. Joel frowned and looked over to you. “He died, just over two years ago.”

“Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

You shrugged.

“It’s fine,” you said. “I mean… well it’s not, it is shit, but it is what it is, you know?”

“I do,” Joel nodded. “My wife, Tess, died, too. September, 2023. Cancer.”

“Shit,” you said this time. “That’s so hard. I’m sorry.”

“Like you said, it is what it is,” he replied.

“We could start a club,” you said. “The ‘it is what it is society for young widows.’ Membership fees are fuckin’ high but hey, at least he company is good.”

Joel snorted.

“What, too soon?” You asked, teasing lightly. You weren’t sure why you felt so comfortable talking like this with a virtual stranger but you were. There was just something about him that felt familiar, comfortable. It was something you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Nah,” Joel said. “Just right.”

“Good,” you said, taking another sip of tea.

“Tess is part of how we ended up here,” Joel said. “Ellie taking lessons here, I mean.”

“Yeah?” You asked, brows raised. “Was she a horse girl at heart?”

“Not really,” Joel laughed. “No, she was from Detroit and not much of a naturalist but… well, her dying hit Ellie real hard. We adopted her about four years ago and her and Tess were real close. We were gettin’ on fine just the two of us for a while but then I had to move back here to help my brother out with his business so she lost the closest thing she had to a mom and then less than two years later left all her friends, too. It’s been a rough time for her. Watching you ride at the rodeo was the happiest I’ve seen that kid in months and lord knows I’d do anything to get her to smile again.”

You smiled at him.

“Turns out, all it took was a horse,” you said.

“And you,” Joel said, watching at you with an almost uncomfortably honest look on his face. You realized then just how close you were standing to him, how fucking good looking he was - noticing him in a way you hadn’t really noticed a man since your husband died. Your heart sped up.

“OK way less gross now,” Ellie said from behind you, making you jump and you and Joel turned to look at her. “Also, way more pink.”

You stifled a laugh, Ellie in a pink sweatsuit of Savvy’s.

“Well ain’t you pretty,” Joel teased her lightly and she glared at him. He smiled. “Alright, now what do you say?”

“Thank you for the shower and the clothes,” she said. “Seriously. I was gross.”

“Yeah,” Savvy scrunched her nose. “You really were.”

You walked the two of them out to Joel’s truck, Ellie already telling him excitedly about everything she learned with you that day.

“Sounds like I’ll see you back same time next week?” You said to Joel as Ellie got in the passenger seat.

“Yeah,” Joel smiled. “We’ll definitely be back.”

“Good,” you smiled back. “Looking forward to it.”

Joel looked like he thought for a moment before he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

A/N: I hope you enjoy what will be a pretty short look into how things go in a no outbreak reality for Joel and Bambi! I went ahead and tagged everyone on the Yearling tag list, I hope that's OK! Thank you for reading and caring about these characters, I really cannot thank you enough for this journey we've been on together. It's been such a blessing to share it with you. Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

Text

A Perfect Score - Chapter 10 - A Song of Ice and Fire | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: The moment has arrived for you and Aemond to prove yourselves against the Martells. You can only hope you've done enough to earn your place | Word Count: 7.7k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: teasing, hair pulling, mile high club (oop), voyeurism, degradation, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), ass slapping, orgasm denial, threatening behaviour, mentions of a broken family, mentions of chronic pain, blood, slight angst, injury in relation to chronic condition, trigeminal neuralgia, hospitals

A/N: I can't believe this is the LAST CHAPTER FUCK 😭😭😭 i love these two sm, would die for them 🥰 I really hope you guys enjoyed this series, it was so fun to write! If you're lucky there might even be an Epilogue 😉

Sunspear.

That’s where the finals would be.

Cocky fuckers. Thinking that they had the win, by having it on Martell turf.

At this point, the prospect of winning was low on the priority list. The top spot had been somewhat taken over, by carrying out the plan you had in store, which Aemond was increasingly becoming more and more suspicious of.

You and Helaena would play dumb whenever he walked past her room, hiding whatever you were doing. As much as Helaena prefaced that what you had planned was a terrible idea, she’d grinned and told you to do it anyway.

She’d even given her opinion when you modelled it.

“Perfect” she said with a proud smile, leaning back in her chair.

You’d packed the suitcase well enough that Aemond wouldn’t see it even if he opened it by accident.

When it was time to load up the car for the flight to Sunspear, staying in a hotel overnight before the finals tomorrow, there was a finality to it that widened the pit in your chest. Helaena had barely had you out of her arms, intent on hugging every last bit out of you so that she could savour the feeling.

“We’ll all be watching the match tomorrow” she smiled, “try not to get into too much trouble before then”

As much as you’re happy that she and her family will be there, as your manager, he will too.

Aemond had pre-warned you about that.

But to be honest, you were expecting it.

“You know me, can’t keep out of it it seems” you smile back at her, hand slipping out of hers as you move onto Alicent, who stands straight, pink lips pressed together, like one touch and she’ll just crumble into tears.

Alicent nods, picking at the top of her turtleneck, “It was so nice to have you here, sweet girl. You are welcome back whenever you like” she manages, her voice wavering with emotion.

Smiling gratefully, nothing else need be said when Alicent opens her arms to pull you into a hug, as if you were her own. She smells like expensive perfume, probably YLS, as you’d often seen the bottle poking out of her bag. At first, when you met, you found the scent overpowering, and somewhat tart. But now, as the perfume enveloped you in a warm, motherly hug, it was entirely comforting. And your heart strained in your chest, knowing that it may be a while before you get to come back.

Your face pulls into a smile as Alicent then moves onto her son, bringing a comically tall Aemond in comparison into a warm embrace. No person is more surprised than you when Aegon walks over, trying to hide how nice he’s being with humour.

“Come in. Bring it in then”

You laugh through your nose, giving him a quick hug.

“Alright, that’s enough”

You shrug, smirking, “Fine, you smell anyway”

“Ouch, I’m so fucking wounded”

You pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“I’ll be watching as well. Can’t wait to see what happens” Aegon winks.

You turn awake, feigning ignorance, “Dunno what you mean”

You fought the urge to tear up as you looked in the mirror, watching the three of them wave you away. With lips pressed together to force a smile to your face, strained with emotion, you spare them a wave back, bidding the large Targaryen House goodbye.

Once past the security gates a deep exhale exits your lungs, and Aemond’s hand wraps around your knee, stealing your attention.

You smile at him, giving a soft nod, “I’m alright”

Aemond laughs through his nose, “You’re acting like you’ll never go back” he chuckles, “I know Mum would be very offended if you didn’t”

Smiling, you know it’s probably true. That they would like you back as often as possible, no matter the outcome of the finals.

Aemond scrolls through his phone, biting the inside of his cheek, “Applications are closing soon” he muses, almost so quietly you don’t hear him unless you’re leaning close.

“For what?”

He clicks his phone off, shoving it into his sweatpants pocket, “For the new academic year” he replied anxiously.

“Philosophy and History right?” you smile, putting your hand on his to calm him, “You’ll love it, Aemond”

“I know, it’s just-” he adds, “I don’t know if I’ll be good at the whole academic side of it. It’s one thing to be interested-”

“You’ll do great because you’re interested in it” you smile, “besides there’ll be plenty of workshops on essay writing and such”

He sighs, like the idea of doing all of that is just so overwhelming right now. Not knowing what to expect, has his whole body tense.

“Finals first. Then I’ll apply” he states, turning to flash you a small, Aemond-smile. One you return with warmth.

“I’ll help you with your Personal Statement”

He laughs, “Then I’ll never get in” he jokes, making you swat his arm playfully.

It was a couple of hours on a plane to Sunspear, and with the assistance of the private jet supplied by Hightower Management, it was a simple process. The car even pulled up right next to it, allowing you both to largely avoid the media who stood behind the chain-link fence, trying to get a word or a photo from the mysterious couple.

You’d barely looked at the news. But every now and then, a notification would inevitably pop up on your phone, about your outburst and subsequent removal from the Targaryen House. Frustration boiled in your veins.

That wasn’t true.

But then again, not a lot they wrote about was true.

It happened so often, each time affected you less and less, and the quicker it was to push that aside.

An ‘unnamed insider’ had also offered their opinion.

‘There was an altercation with the Chairman of Hightower Management, in what I understand was a lapse of morals’.

You had laughed when you read it.

And so did Aemond.

Alys Rivers.

Still trying to dig her claws in, desperate for even a slither of that limelight. Of Aemond’s attention.

She wouldn’t fucking get it. No fucking way.

Aemond had joked that you’d beat her in a fist fight if need be. And you didn’t doubt it. In fact, the mental image somewhat amused you.

You looked up from your phone, the hum of the incessant jet engine vibrated through the seats. Arryk was fast asleep in the front of the jet, slumped back in his seat, with his hands clasped on his chest. His suit, inevitably crumpled with the awkward sleeping position he found himself in.

Aemond was seated next to you, earphones in, leaning back to only appear as if he were dozing.

You bite your lip, looking back down the aisle and then to Aemond.

He cracks open his eye as you stand up from your seat, a suspicious look rakes over you as you pull the jumper you were wearing over your head and huffing it onto the seat.

“Where are you going?” he asks gruffly, to which the only thing you can do is smile, seeing the way his gaze absorbs the image of what you’re wearing stuck tight to your skin.

Knowing he fucking hates it.

Hates it.

You roll your eyes.

“The toilet?” you reply sarcastically.

Gods, you know you’re pushing your luck but you just can’t help it.

You can practically feel the irritation radiating off Aemond. His lips part to say something but you’re gone with a smirk on your face before he can say anything. His harsh, determined gaze bores into the back of your head, burning a bright hole through it. You sway your hips as you walk down the aisle to the bathroom, closing the door, but not locking it.

10 seconds.

That’s how long you give it.

You pretend to wash your hands, looking in the mirror and smoothing your palms over the ponytail that sits semi-loosely at the back of your head.

5, 4, 3…

The door opens quickly and with a click it’s shut again, but this time Aemond slides the lock across. He had to duck to get into the cramped bathroom, and now with two people inside, it feels utterly stifling.

You have to bite back a smile that you’d guessed him so spot on. It hadn’t even been ten seconds. And here he stood, putting on a stoic, blank face, as if he had no intention of doing anything at all.

Your lips part to speak, but your throat is instead met with pressure, his palm flush to it and his fingers around the sides as he pushes you further into the bathroom.

“You want to get fucked?” he suggests in a dark, husky voice, the muscles in his arm tensing and untensing as his control begins to wane, “Hm?”

You can see the way he expects you to respond, but as his fingers press on the sides of your neck, it only serves to make your mind swirl with want, seeing how frustrated he is. Nothing seems to want to come out of your mouth, shock pleasantly blocking your throat.

“Think I didn’t see that? The way you rolled your eyes? Acting like a little slut?”

You swallow under his hand, his words sending a bolt of arousal straight between your legs, throbbing with desire. The way your cheeks burn makes it clear to him what you really want, coupled with the tremble that has now managed to worm its way up your legs.

In a smooth moment, your thighs hit the counter in front of the mirror, his arm now reaching widely around you to hold your head up to see his expression in the mirror. You shiver at the sensation of his hair on your skin, his nose dragging up the side of your neck, his breath eventually hot on the shell of your ear.

“You just want it, don’t you?” he grunts, pressing his now noticeable erection against your backside, his hips moving torturously slow, as if to make you wait, to tease you.

Pride rings in your body at the way he’s just so easily fallen apart the way you predicted.

“No” you tease, biting back a smile which he sees in the mirror.

His mouth drawn tightly into a line, not revealing at all what he’s thinking.

Aemond’s large hands go to your leggings, tearing them down harshly like he can’t get a good grip on them. The speed, the sheer neediness of the gesture, has arousal pooling where you need him most and your skin prickling with desire.

“We’ll see about that”

You have to spread your hands on the counter to keep yourself up as Aemond tugs your leggings down just enough and bends you over, exposing you just enough that the cool air against your core makes you shiver.

“No” he gruffs, wrapping your hair around his knuckles and tugging back to make you look in the mirror at him, “You’re going to watch”

You barely have time to think about his threat before you feel the fat head of his cock kiss your folds, pushing forward, Aemond moans breathily as he looks down to watch you take the entirety of him, squeezing his length tightly.

It feels like the air is being constantly pushed from your lungs, he doesn’t even give a moment of reprieve, one hand tugging your hair and the other kneading the fleshy globe of your ass to spread you open for him to see. His cock pistons so quickly and with such a lewd sound that for a moment, it makes you embarrassed that Arryk might actually hear from the front of the plane.

“Keep your eyes open, princess” she breathes, leaning over your neck and giving a harsh tug to remind you. You whimper as his teeth graze over your skin, combined with the way he bullies that sensitive spot inside you in this position, it all feels very too much.

“Just my little fucktoy aren’t you, hm?” he grunts against your ear. And without even thinking you nod quickly, not trusting yourself to speak, your eyes dragging down to watch the ceaseless rocking of his hips slapping against you.

He delivers a hard slap to your ass, “Say it”.

“ - yes, I am - I am -”

Aemond groans, burying himself as deep as he can inside you with each devastating thrust, “Yeah, that’s right -”

You gasp loudly, eyes slipping shut as his hand makes his way to your front, his thumb drawing harsh circles against your clit. It’s more pressure than you anticipated to such a sensitive area, and it has your body pushing back to meet his, desperate.

“ - fuck, Aemond -”

“ - not my name, princess-”

Just when you’re about to lose it, he ceases his movements to your clit and slows his pace dramatically and he chuckles darkly when you whine with annoyance.

“If you want to cum, I want to hear it-”

You can’t help but feel irritated. You are so, so close. It’s unfair.

“Come on, you can do it, baby-”

With a strained, annoyed tone, “-fuck, daddy please - I’m so close-”

You feel him grin against your neck, “better”

Nothing feels more overwhelming than when he picks up the pace again, blood feeling as if it’s on fire as it hums around your body, right to your little bundle of nerves that Aemond hasn’t left alone.

“-that’s it, cum around my cock, princess-”

And you do.

Hard.

So much so that Aemond has to put his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. Especially when his pace never falters, and he fucks you through your orgasm with the same vigour. Aemond moans as your walls flutter around him, squeezing his length tightly.

He pulls out, fisting his length quickly in his fist, a shuddered groan falling from his glorious lips as his warm cum coats your bare pussy. It’s near-pornographic, the way it feels to be covered by him, and even more so when he smears his cum over your slit with the head of his cock.

You smile tiredly, seeing that this little act is something that Aemond enjoys doing often.

Perhaps it's his way of reminding you you're his.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect-” he praises, “-baby you’ve made such a mess- come on, be a good girl-”

You’re near breathless as he pushes you to your knees in front of him, covering your lips with the cum that glazes his cock before plunging into your mouth. You let your jaw relax as Aemond makes the slow, lazy pace, using your mouth to clean the aftermath off his length.

You moan around him, the taste of him salty and heavy on your tongue.

“That’s it - you like me using your mouth, don’t you-”

You make a noise of confirmation as he continues to use you, making his head tip back at the vibrations stimulating his oversensitive cock.

He pulls you off by your hair, looking down at you reverently, using his thumb to swipe whatever was left on your lips back into your mouth.

As your eyes meet, both of you light up in a smile.

"Seven fucking Hells, what am I going to do with you" he smiles lovingly.

The Dornish heat was nothing compared to that little bathroom.

The air was crisp as you exited the plane, a dull, but satisfied ache between your thighs. In fact, Arryk had looked at you both with some level of barely-contained suspicion when you came out the bathroom on the flight, and you’d flushed bright red when he asked if you were alright, and swatted Aemond when he made no attempt to hide his smugness and laughed out loud.

The hotel was lavish, and entirely different in style from the hotels you were used to on the tour. The floors were marble, the walls largely made of stone, with bright and vibrant colours decorating the tall ceilings and walls.

Even people’s fashion was different. Flowy fabrics of silk and light linens, probably due to the intense heat, which was already making it difficult to concentrate.

You gave Aemond a look when the receptionist gave you one key.

As if being in on an inside joke of sorts.

The last time you were forced to share one room, it was a very different circumstance.

The room was spacious and utterly luxurious, but you’d expect nothing less from the Martells.

The bed was enclosed with panels of delicate details surrounding it, along with silks of various vibrancies to lift it. The floor was marble, and a nice cooling sensation in comparison to the stifling air.

And as Aemond snaked his arms around your waist as you looked out onto the balcony at the lavish gardens, leaning down to bite at your neck softly, your eyes slipped shut.

“Aemond the finals are tomorrow, we have to practi-”

“And I intend to” he whispered back, kissing higher and higher on your neck, while one of his hands sank lower and lower, til they were beneath the waistband of your leggings.

“It’s still early, Princess” he mused.

You had both christened the bed that afternoon, and later on, any available flat surface Aemond could find, he would do things that would make even Aegon blush.

Unlike the other hotels, there was only one ice rink in Sunspear, and it would be the one you’d be using tomorrow to compete against the Martells. It was a bit annoying having to book in a spot to go over the routine, and you and Aemond had already practised beyond measure, but it was still nice to get a few more sessions in before the big day.

Surprisingly, you felt okay, and Aemond was the nervous one. Even though realistically, there was little outcome for Aemond, whether you won or not.

You sigh, the cool air of the rink hitting your skin, “At least it’s nice and cool in here”

Huffing your bag onto the floor, you look behind at him when he doesn’t reply.

Aemond, with a stoic expression, only gestured with his head in the direction of the stands.

Larys Strong sits there, his cane in hand.

His head is angled down, so that he’s looking over the bridge of his brow, his darkened eyes flitting between you and Aemond from where he’s seated in the middle of the rows of seats, which tomorrow, would be filled with people.

Immediately, irritation gnaws at your insides. And the only saving grace is Aemond’s careful hand on your arm, grounding you.

You make no effort to go to him.

He will come to you if he wants to speak.

It almost pleases you that it takes him so long to stand and step down to the ice rink, so that it gives you more time to think of what to say. You go to move away to speak to him, but Aemond’s fingers tighten, holding you close to him.

He wanted to stay with you.

“Aemond” Larys greeted first, leaning on his cane as he stopped before you both, smirking as he searched both of your faces.

Aemond didn’t respond.

“What do you want?” you ask, getting swiftly to the point, as you knew he wouldn’t.

Larys bowed his head, as if briefly embarrassed and wondering what to say, his slick wavy brown hair not moving around his shoulders.

“I am here for the finals-”

“That’s not what I asked” you added quickly, “to the point, please”

You didn’t see the barely-contained smirk that Aemond was struggling to keep at bay behind you. It turned out, he rather liked to see you angry.

Larys floundered noticeably.

“You had seen my emails?”

“I had”

Larys raised an eyebrow, “and it was insufficient?”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t hide your contempt, “You expected me to go to the press?”

“I thought that was the plan”

“There was no plan. Nor an exchange of terms between you and I. I sought your help because I thought you had information on my employment, and you did. There is nothing more to say”

He goes quiet for a moment, before lifting his signature smirk to his face.

“I see the Ice Princess has some fire in her”

Aemond’s grip tightens, as if he’s ready to explode at any moment.

“I do hope Floris is alright” he muses, taking a short step forward, “it’d be a shame for such a capable skater to retire so soon into her career”

Your eyebrows furrow.

Was that a fucking threat?

Larys smirks slightly, appearing to have hit the nerve he was after.

"Good luck with the finals"

"Watch it" Aemond responds, keeping a firm grip on your arm. Now because he's afraid you might actually hurt him.

Larys laughs through his nose.

Fuck you.

You and Aemond watch with bated breath as Larys leaves slowly, the clang of the double doors rattling behind him.

Aemond let's out a breath.

"Should I be watching where I put my skates now?" You ask him, half joking. But it earns a breathy laugh nonetheless.

"You say that. Maybe you should"

Practice goes as expected.

The routine is intricate, perhaps the most technical so far, but in a nice way. Working with Aemond now, when everything had been addressed was nice.

Gods it was so nice.

It almost made you sad that he wanted to retire after the finals.

He was so graceful. For such a tall guy, lined with lean muscle, he had such elegance on the ice. Wasn't afraid to show off, which the judges would no doubt love.

The song?

Swan Lake. The Ending Song.

A bold choice of Otto's.

Was that a threat too? Perhaps?

It didn't bother you too much, as you'd found a perfect place within the song to do what you had planned for weeks.

And gods, it'd all be worth it to see his face.

It was all very surreal.

A flurry of texts crowded your screen on the morning of the finals.

Rhaenys.

Baela. Rhaena.

Floris.

El.

Even some of your family.

Estranged family.

You're certain you blocked their number.

You sigh, pulling the towel around yourself and walking out of the open wet room. Aemond is laid flat on his back on the bed, a damp cold cloth applied to the marred eye.

If you didn't know any better, he looked asleep.

"Still bothering you?" You ask.

He just makes a noise of confirmation. His eye not moving.

You rub his arm lovingly as you sit next to him.

His eye had been bothering him all night, so much so that embarrassingly (his words) he'd had to remove the glass eye he wore and slept without it to alleviate the pain.

He'd looked so vulnerable when he showed you.

As if you'd run away when you saw it.

But instead, your heart leapt. You were more lovey than usual after a little drink at the bar with Aemond after practice, and you'd pressed your lips to his scarred cheek. Lingering.

Little did you know, that his heart leapt as well.

And when you slept, moulded in each other's arms.

It felt like it was always meant to be this way.

It changed something.

"Do you want some painkillers?" You ask softly,

"I'm alright, just took some…waiting for them to kick in"

Patting his arm, you give him a reassuring smile, though he can't see it.

Making sure he's not looking, you sneak the outfit out of your suitcase and into your bag for later. Biting your lip, you try hard to contain the excitement in your veins. And nerves as well.

For a lot of things.

Ping!

You laugh through your nose.

Scrolling, you check the other messages you have.

You laugh at that too.

Gods she's such a boomer. It's kind of painful.

You shoot her a quick text back, clearing the texts from your family without replying.

Not like they deserve it anyway.

Everytime you see a text from them now, it only reminds you of why Otto hired you.

Bad circumstances.

Someone of low background.

Ugh fuck him.

Fuck. Him.

With a barge pole if needed.

Aemond huffs as he gets up, squinting and looking over at you, "ready to dance with the vipers?"

"Oh more than ready" you smile at him.

You're thankful you have your own dressing room at least. To get everything right without Aemond's curious eye constantly looking at you.

No time for quickies this time round.

You look at yourself in the mirror, hair all done into a ponytail with curls falling from it. Decorated with glitter hairspray and little pearls. Your outfit is black, as Otto had said it would be in his email. The corset is almost velvet like, with a slight v at the top (which made it difficult to initiate your plan, but you managed). And the mesh skirt over the leotard sways like a cloud over your legs.

You steel yourself.

You can do this.

When you go out to the hallway, looking down to the ice rink, where the stands are entirely full with the echoed chatter of the audience, your skin immediately prickles with nerves.

You feel Aemond's hand on the small of your back, making heat crawl up your neck.

"Feeling okay?" He asks in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

You don't think you'll ever get over the feeling you get when you see him with his sapphire eye.

It literally takes your breath away.

But his scar looks reddened somewhat.

You furrow your brows, "Are you?" You ask, concerned, "your eye. It looks sor-"

"I'm fine" he says quickly.

I don't believe that.

You can see the way he's trying to be brave about it. His jaw tight and his good eye looking anywhere but you, as if he knows he'll be found out.

"Aemond we don't have to. If you're in pain-"

"No. I want to do this for you" he urges.

For you.

You swear for a moment your heart skips a beat, stilling in your chest as the rest of you gets warm.

Aemond can never be forced.

He's stubborn like that.

A Targaryen trait, you muse.

But you know deep down, he won't heed your warning. He's headstrong. Completely sure of his own opinion, rightly or wrongly.

There's something about it now though, which doesn't feel right.

"I'm alright, princess. Promise" he adds, taking one of your hands in his while he takes in your outfit.

"You look nice" he says, forcing a smile to his face. His hand goes over your sleeves to the clips at the top. He plays with them briefly, as if wondering what they are before you playfully slap his hand away.

"Off"

He gives you a look.

A suspicious one.

He knows you're up to something.

Then he smiles.

Again a forced one, but stubbornness will kill him first.

As you both walk towards the ice rink, journalists, media, the judges, the faces of the audience as well as the Martells all serve to wake your nerves.

You wave at Rhaenys in the crowd, Baela and Rhaena seated either side of her.

"There they are, the Ice Prince and Princess. Ready for the finals in their all black get up"

"They appear to be closer this time, speaking in hushed voices- oh! Was that a kiss I saw?"

"It was! Perhaps there is more to this mere partnership than meets the eye"

Aemond whispers to you, "up in the stands, to the right"

When you follow his eyeline, your face drops and you turn to avoid the cameras from getting a good look at your expression.

Otto Hightower sits there.

Alone.

Good.

He's looking down at you both, chin high but his gaze looking over his nose like you're shit at the bottom of his shoe. His hands are clasped in expectancy, clearly desiring a favourable outcome to the performance.

But at least now you know where he is, so you can see the look on his face.

The thought of it has an evil smirk rise to your face.

"Are we going first?" You ask.

Aemond nods.

Fuck. You hate going first.

And as if by magic-

"Aemond fucking Targaryen. The One-Eyed wonder!"

Qoren's voice has a tendency to travel. And right now, it's travelling through every nerve in you, jolting them awake. He walks over with a swagger, a slowness, clad entirely in bright mustard and wine tones, akin to his partner who is sat on the bench scrolling through her phone.

Aemond sighs, "Qoren" he greets flatly, rubbing his thumb against his temple on the marred side of his face.

"Just wanted to say good luck" Qoren smirks, nudging a curled wave out his face, "I'm certain you won't need it"

Cunt.

That's what you want to say.

Instead, you roll your eyes and take Aemond's hand leading him to the ice rink.

"Ignore him" you tell him, pulling of the blade guards and tossing them aside.

Aemond huffs a laugh, "Seven Hells, if he's in your bad books he's done for" he replies, joining you as you both go out onto the ice to do a few laps.

"Our Crownlands couple look ready and composed for a challenge today"

"And a challenge it will be. It's never easy going first, especially against the Martells. They'll have to work for it"

You skate next to him for a few warm-up laps, the heat rising again to your face as he takes your hand, giving his signature one sided smile.

Your heart flutters pleasantly.

In front of all these people?

He sees your reaction.

"I'm not going to hide anything anymore, princess" he says softly, "I've done it for far too long"

One part of you wants to cry with joy.

The other wants to drag him to the nearest dark corner.

So instead, you squeeze his hand. A good compromise.

As you skate to a halt in the middle, you mouth the words.

'I love you'

And your heart roars with delight.

He mouths it back.

"Our couple seem utterly smitten with each other"

"Their chemistry rivals the Martells, for sure!"

Taking a deep breath, you and Aemond nod to each other, getting in position to wait until the music starts.

It's quiet.

You could hear a pin drop.

His hand is warm.

The clarinets begin to play, the opening sequence of violins accompanying the music as you and Aemond begin the medium paced routine. The only sound you both can hear is the blades tearing through the ice, the rustle of your clothing against each other and the shallow breaths between each movement of the routine, moving swiftly hand in hand, twirling and feeling light and airy as Aemond lifts you effortlessly.

The music is almost frantic, the trumpets are getting so loud that they almost vibrate the ice beneath you. But you concentrate on the routine at hand, letting Aemond take your weight with each quick lift into the air, each synchronised motion perfectly executed.

“Quite a quick routine from the couple. Good choice of song and good technical ability so far”

“Yes, they really look like a proper team now, don’t they?”

As the music picks up momentum, you briefly glance at the stands mid-spin, smirking when you spot Otto’s eyes half closed, looking right at you. As if wondering what it is you are thinking.

Drums.

As Aemond moves in front of you for a split second, your hands lift to your shoulders, unpopping the buttons there.

No going back now.

Aemond looks over you in brief shock as the black is completely encompassed, a sheet of dark green falling over it like a curtain, replacing the beaded darkness with the bright forest colour he was so used to seeing his mother wear on her old performances.

It quickly changes to a barely-contained smile as the fabric laps at your thighs, the green mesh replacing the translucent black, right as the music hits its crescendo.

"Oh my-is that what I think it is!"

"Hightower Green looks very good on our Ice Princess!"

You don’t even have time to look at Otto.

The audience is a mix of clapping, awes and shouting of support. Never wavering for a moment.

Aemond continues the routine with a big, boyish smile plastered onto his face, performing the rest of the moves and lifts with a renewed vigour and passion that was not there before.

The rest of it seems to fly by, assisted by the smitten way you look at one another. Before you even know it, the music has died out. You and Aemond face each other, foreheads almost touching as the applause roars around you, several items like flowers and flags being thrown onto the ice around you.

It’s difficult to describe Aemond’s expression. Awe? Affection? Lust?

Love.

All you know is that you love it. And that all this was worth it.

You’re about to open your mouth, when his hands find each side of your face, his fingers holding the back of your head desperately, as he crashes his lips to yours.

In front of everyone.

In front of all of Westeros.

It feels exhilarating. Adrenaline boils the blood inside you, burning for him. And when you part, breathless after not only that, but the energy of the routine, all you can do is smile. Feeling so in love with him it’s honestly disgraceful.

Hand in hand, you bow to the audience, a massive grin plastered on your face. Rhaenys, Baela and Rhaena are all stood, clapping passionately. Larys is seated at the end of a particular row, both hands clasped on his cane, smirking beneath it, as if he just loves watching the drama unfold.

And then Otto.

You’re happy to find he looks absolutely livid.

That's right, you think. This is where my loyalties lie.

Aemond’s grip tightens on you as you give your bow to the judges. But it’s not a tight, comforting hold. Not one of victory, or love.

“Aemond?..” you ask, turning to him.

He’s breathing heavily, his other hand pressed to the scarred side of his face, his good eye blinking quickly as he turns to you.

Your face blanches, “Aemond, what’s wrong-”

“I’m fine, it’s just-ah fuck”

He nearly doubles over in pain, his hand pressed painfully to the left side of his face, the faintest bit of blood trickling between his fingers.

Panic rings through you, and with your hands on his sides, you guide him on the ice towards the edge, helping him sit, ignoring the muffled whispers and rumours that echo around the atrium, “let me see, Aemond..”

He shakes his head erratically, “No, no, just-I’m okay”

“Aemond you are not okay” you urge, watching the way his other eye waters from the pain, his face going pink as he encourages himself to take deep breaths.

“It appears he may have some sort of injury. We’re waiting on some updates from management”

“Who do you need me to call?” you ask him hurriedly,

“I don’t know-fucking-call Mum, please” he replies pitifully, bending over in searing, hot pain that radiates from his eye socket.

Spotting Arryk, you rush over and grab his phone that he throws, pulling it to your ear while rubbing Aemond’s shoulder.

“Aemond, take the sapphire out, it’s just going to hurt you more-”

“No, no, I can’t-” he shakes his head, panicked and scared.

“Aemond”

When his good eye meets you, he looks so vulnerable and unsure you almost regret your tone.

But you just want him to be okay.

Turning away, he dislodges the sapphire, his hand still covering his face, despite having the utmost trust in you, he still doesn’t want you to see it, all red and sore.

“Hello, Alicent? Yeah I think Aemond is having one of his neurological-fuck-I don’t know-episodes? I don’t know what to do?” you speak nervously into the phone.

“I know, I know, sweet girl. He needs to go to Urgent Care right away, and needs his glycerol injections, alright? Where’s my father?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see him!”

“He has Aemond’s health insurance card, okay, find him and get him to hospital as soon as you can. okay? Has he taken the sapphire out?”

“Yes, I made him”

“Good. Until he gets to hospital, just apply a warm compress and keep him calm, okay? You can do this”

You hang up quickly, looking around and spotting Otto as he paves his way through the crowd of people. Still rubbing Aemond’s shoulder, all notions of hating him are gone in favour of helping the quivering, vulnerable man in front of you, whining pitifully as his nerves are set aflame.

“Otto, he needs to go to a hospital. Do you have his health card?”

Stoically, he nods, his eyes ignoring you, “I do, Arryk will take us. Come on”

He assists Aemond to his feet, leading him to the exit with urgency.

The fire doors open and Aemond turns to you, “You have to stay”

“What? No! I’m coming with you!”

“One of us has to stay, we’ll get disqualified” he reasons, with a wavering voice.

“Aemond, I don’t care about-”

“Well I do. Stay” he urges.

You go quiet, staring at him in disbelief and also shock. And seeing it all over your face, how conflicted both of you are, he leans forward pressing a kiss to your forehead, his fingers stroking your hair lovingly.

“I’ll be fine, baby..” he adds softly, “Stay”

You watch him hurry out of the fire escape, and straight into the back of Arryk’s car with Otto. He’s so doubled over in pain, clutching the sapphire in one fist, that he barely has any time to look back at you standing there, the warm air making the mesh skirt lap at your legs.

You only meet his worried gaze at the last second.

A shuddered breath tumbles from your lips, the adrenaline and panic of the last few minutes just sinking in. You feel a bit helpless, unable to do anything for him as he’s driven to hospital.

“Hey” the soothing voice of Rhaenys at your side pulls you out, and you look at her with bleary eyes, “are you alright?”

You nod quickly, “Yeah, I think so..”

She guides you back inside, sitting at the sidelines, “Sit here, I’ll get you a drink”

You can’t relax. The room feels like it’s spinning.

“Just a little update. Aemond Targaryen has been rushed to hospital in what we believe is an episode of acute pain due to a long-standing condition”

“We’ll wish him all the best in hospital and hope it isn’t anything too serious”

Rhaenys gives you a warm cup of coffee, but you can’t drink it, you’re too on edge already. And if any caffeine is pumped into your already hammering heart, you think it might explode.

You don’t even concentrate on the performance the Martells are doing, eyes nowhere near the scoreboard. Your leg bounces nervously, fully aware that you are probably being scrutinised endlessly by the media, with hundreds of articles already written about you.

Their orange and red outfits dance in your periphery. Spins, twists, lifts. Things that right now, don’t mean an awful lot to you. All you can think about is when Aemond turned to you, blood trickling between his fingers, face twisted in pain.

“Hey…”

You don’t even realise you’ve zoned out until Rhaenys taps your arm excitedly.

Shaking your head, you look around, everyone’s stood. Smiling. Clapping. The Martells are lazily skating their way to their end of the rink, talking with their manager, with bowed heads.

“Wha?..” you reply, completely dazed, “what’s happened?..”

“Qoren’s partner fucked her landing. They’re a whole 10 points short on the technical. Not including the penalty they’re likely to get” she replies, leaning closely to whisper it, a victorious smirk on her face.

Oh shit.

Your eyes meet the scoreboard, watching as the rest of the scores come in.

With the penalty, they’re tragically low. But your breath feels hot in your throat still.

This was always the part you hated.

Rhaenys’ ring-clad hand grips yours tightly.

The crowd's cheer, applause and shouts of support are nothing compared to the roaring in your ears.

"We won"

Entirely shocked beyond words and comprehension, Rhaenys pulls you into a hug, jumping up and down excitedly. Your face is blanched with shock, eyes still, and you realise you must look a total idiot to everyone else. The reality of the situation still not entirely dawning on you.

"The Crownlands have done it. The Championship title is theirs!"

"Shame our Ice Prince cannot be there to receive his trophy"

"Go! Go!" Rhaenys urges, pushing you by your shoulders to the stands where the judges are all grinning, holding the trophy, medals and large bouquet of gloriously colourful flowers.

It's a blurred slew of 'well done' and 'congratulations'.

The Martells, though devastated, nod in your direction in congratulations. And you barely hear it, but Qoren even seems to offer some sort of kind words for Aemond's condition.

Still doesn't make him less of a twat.

The trophy, long and golden, is heavy in your hands, rested against your shoulder, with the flowers pushed into your other, shoulders sagging with the weight of two medals around your neck.

Aemond.

With a few quick thank yous and bows of your head, your panicked, searching eyes find Rhaenys, who already has her car keys and your jacket in her grip.

"Come on" she utters, "quickly"

It feels utterly silly to still be wearing the green outfit for the competition while riding in the passenger seat of Rhaenys' Mercedes. But at least your black jacket provides some semblance of normality. You didn't even have time to take the medals off.

You did however, change your shoes, shucking your skates off in the footwell of her car.

She's driving well over the speed limit. But hey, most of Sunspear are as well. Through several junctions, she even graces some of the locals with her middle finger.

If you weren't so taut with nerves, it'd make you laugh.

The tyres screech loudly as she pulls into the hospital car park, the trophy nestled between your legs nearly making you trip over yourself as you hurl yourself out the car door.

Those tell-tale clicks of camera shutters and the echo of incessant questions are instantly upon you.

With the trophy loosely in one hand, all you can do is run to the entrance of the hospital, where the media are not allowed.

This time, they part a path for you.

The security guards at the front who have been fending them off, see your outfit, medals and trophy and immediately slip the door open, "Room 47"

You nod in thanks, your breath feeling like blood in your throat from the effort of running so fast and so suddenly. The lights inside the hospital hallways are stark, clinical, and far too bright. Your trainers thud against the linoleum floor, eyes desperately searching for the numbers on the rooms.

"25...24...shit, I'm going the wrong way-"

Aemond.

It doesn't help in the slightest that the hospital is a complete maze. You probably look a complete mess, pink in the face, hair all mussed up from running, but it's the last thing on your mind.

At the end of the hallway, you spot Otto, chatting with a dark-haired man in a white coat. Engaged in conversation, only looking up when the tide of loud footsteps comes closer to them.

You don't care about that either.

Otto tries to reach out to stop you from going in, but you're too fast, fiddling with the handle of the door before he has a chance to pull you back.

It's quiet. Your hurried breathing sounds so loud in your chest.

The door slams into the wall and Aemond looks up, seated sideways on the hospital bed. His cheeks are pink, from the remnants of pain that still linger, but he looks calmer, relaxed, with his brows unfrowned and sitting comfortably on his forehead. His hair, that was so neatly styled for the competition in his signature bun is somewhat curled from the sweat on his forehead and back of his neck.

A surgical patch is taped over his left eye.

His lips twitch when he sees you there, his right eye gleaming with affection, clearly out of breath, having ran the entire length of the hospital to get to him.

"Hey Princess..." he says softly, in a way that never fails to make your heart lurch into your throat.

You almost cry with relief that he's alright.

He licks his dry lips, "Did we do it?..."

With a relieved smile, a lump forming in your throat with emotion, you nod quickly, "Yeah...yeah we did..."

The breath is expelled from your lungs near-painfully when you surge towards each other, throwing your arms around one another, the trophy propped on the floor where you were previously stood.

He feels warm, with his hands around you like this, his heart thrumming fast in his chest. Your body sags against him.

He feels like home.

You hear him inhale, the familiar scent of you immediately having a calming effect on his body, his hand raising to brush your hair from your face as his palms cup either side of it, pressing a light feather-like kiss to your forehead.

His thumb wipes your undereye of moisture. But his smile says it all, his eyes crinkling, briefly irritating the spot where he's obviously had his glycerol injections not a moment before.

"I never doubted you" he utters quietly, "...not for a second"

You give a watery laugh. Hardly recognising this Aemond compared to the one you first met.

Competitions.

Scores.

Drama.

It all means fucking nothing.

The future. Happiness. It's all right here.

"Aemond Targaryen, don't ever scare me like that again..." you smile at him, half-joking, fingers tenderly stroking along his jawline, prickles of regrowth rubbing comfortingly along your skin.

He huffs a laugh through his nose, his mouth opening slightly as he smiles.

"No promises, princess"

And finally, with a pleased little muffled sound crawling up your throat, his tender, full lips descend onto yours, sealing whatever is felt between you right now and all that has happened before.

It doesn't even need to be said. Those three little words.

Because they're just not enough.

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

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