#if he comes back IF he will REMAIN a bastard in the nights watch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sassenashsworld · 1 day ago

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Hancock at Diamond City

(this one is not .... that canonical... I couldn't help...)

The List

John just can’t believe it. He cannot believe that his brother, whose blood and flesh he shares, is capable of such an abomination. But now this bastard is smiling at him with a carnal expression.

It’s too much for him. John can no longer bear the thought of being in the same room as him. Let this bastard have his damned town hall. John prefers to go back down to the ground of the city with the common people.

But as the elevator platform descends to the floor of the cows, all the horror of what is happening spreads out at his sight.

“Motherfuckers! They don’t even give people time!”

The guards of Diamond City, and probably several mercenaries hired for the occasion, are already seizing ghouls’ citizens of Diamond City. The Great Exile demanded by the electors is already beginning.

John wants to vomit.

The young man can’t believe what he’s seeing.

The people he has known for his entire life are being dragged out of their homes like trash, treated like criminals. They’re mostly old, and scared, and lost. Some of them have been here even before John's parents. He played with some of them as a child.

Two guards, holding Mister Carter by the arms, drag him away. He manages to turn around and look at John for a moment, his eyes wide and full of despair.

“Help us, Young McDonough, please!” the poor man exclaims, his voice quivering.

John’s heart clenches, and his eyes suddenly fill with tears at the sight. He struggles to keep his voice steady.

“Hang in there, Mr. Carter,” he says, trying to sound reassuring. “Just hang in there...”

Mister Carter tries to protest and resist, but the security guards drag him away without mercy. Some of the other ghouls in line watch this scene, desperation and terror etched on their faces.

In the chaos of the crowd, John sees a figure among the others. He has always relied on this figure as a beacon in the gloomy night, where his twisted mind can occasionally guide him. He leaps off and charges towards Nick Valentine, who is leaning his back against a wall and watching the guards drag the crowd with disapproving gazes.

Nick sees John running toward him from a distance; the expression on his face is enough to tell what’s going on in his mind. He knows the young McDonough too well; he knows that if he’s here, it’s to seek trouble.

“John,” he says as the man joins him.

“What the hell are you waiting for? Why don’t you do anything?”

The detective simply grabs the cigarette packet from the inside pocket of his coat and nods sadly. He’s giving the young boy a look in the corner.

“What the heck ya mean, exactly?”

John falls silent for a moment, staring at Nick with an almost outraged expression. He knows the detective can’t really change what is happening, but he wants to deny it desperately.

“Come on, Nick,” he stutters, his voice filled with frustration and anger. “There's got to be somethin’ we can do. This is madness!”

“This is nuts,” says the detective, lighting a cigarette. “The worst I’ve ever seen... for ages.” The poor synth shakes his head once more, then hands over his cigarette pack to John. “But there ain't nothin' we can do.”

John feels his anger coalesce into a ball of fury. He violently strikes the package that his friend has offered, causing it to drop on the ground.

“HOW DARE YOU? Those people need someone to stand and protect them!”

Nick remains passive, facing the outburst.

“What do ya want me to do? You think I can just shut down this whole town, huh? These folks don’t want them ghouls hangin’ around. I know it real good... They ain't lookin' for no synth neither. There ain't nothin' I can—

“No! I can’t buy it...” John interrupts, feeling a rage growing in his gut, ready to explode like a bomb. “We gotta do something!”

“We just can’t...” Nick sighed again sadly. “Unless we wanna end up in the same boat. We can't go against what the folks want, ya know? When ya gonna get it?”

“Never!” screams John, completely revolted.

He sees another well-liked and respected citizen.

“Mister Rodriguez!”

“No, John,” the old man stopped him before John said more. “I know what you think. We all think that. However, I have a wife and a son, so please understand.

The words of the old man hit John like a slap in the face. He stares at him, trying to find a hint of hope, a way out of the situation.

“But... but they can’t do this,” the boy stammers, still incredulous, as if he didn’t believe what was happening. “They can’t throw them out of their house like a sack of potatoes. They lived here all their life...”

Nick steps forward and puts his hand on John’s shoulder.

“We can't do nothin'—just nothin' at all. Otherwise, we woulda done it already, trust me.”

Mr. Rodriguez bows his head in shame, turning his back to the long line of ghouls that are escorted outside the city walls.

John stares in disbelief. Every fiber of his being screams at him to fight—to fight with nails and teeth. But there is that look in Nick’s eyes—that resigned look—that kills the last spark of hope in him. Because if even a rightful man as his mentor doesn’t bulge for the ghouls...

No! No, John can’t just look. He suddenly rushes to the nearest guard.

“John! NO!” Nick tries to dissuade him, but the stubborn young man doesn't stop for a moment in his crazy run. He hits the guard with full force, causing him to lose his balance and verbally protest.

“Hey!”

Another guard grabs John by the collar and puts him back on his feet.

“Easy, young McDonough. Don’t embarrass your brother.”

The other guard stands up in turn, glaring at him.

“You should go home. It’ll be over soon, don’t worry.”

John struggles against the guard's grip, trying to get free to lunge at them again.

“Let go of me! I hate you, you scumbag!" he screams, consumed by madness.

Nick runs into the fray and tries to get John to come back to his senses.

“Knock it off, for God's sake! Stop it!”

But John’s eyes are filled with anger. He doesn't hear the detective's words. All he can see are those guards forcing the poor old ghouls out of their homes.

“I hate you, you sons of bitches, damn you!” he continues to yell, trying to break free again.

Nick frees him from the guard's grasp and grabs him by the shoulders.

“You gotta listen to me. Listen up! Look at me, will ya?”

John stops fighting for a moment. He looks at Nick, his mind overwhelmed by anger.

“What?!” He replies, panting and clenching his teeth.

“Take it easy!” the detective begs. “Ya get what I'm sayin'? Take it easy, now. I get about it all, but if ya keep goin' like this...”

John's heart continues to beat fast, but his mind is starting to clear. He sees the guards watching him cautiously. But he doesn’t care. He knows Nick is right, but his anger continues to make his head boil.

“I…” John tries to control his breathing, still caught in a wave of rage. “I can’t...”

Nick nods, understanding.

“I get it... but ya gotta chill out, alright?”

He squeezes his shoulders, trying to ease his friend's anger.

“No, I can’t!” suddenly exclaims John. “I can’t stand still! I can’t accept!”

One of the guards approaches them, his hands clasped around his pistol. Nick notices and pulls John back. Not that he thinks they would dare to hurt the young brother of the mayor, but in this chaos, who knows?

“Easy, John…”

John looks at the guards, his heart pounding and his breath quickening again.

"Easy, my ass!" he exclaims, still fuming. “These guys are forcing people out of their homes! And you tell me to not do anything? They are people; they are!”

Nick tries to put himself in front of John and block his path, but the young man starts to push past him.

“Don’t be a knucklehead. Ya want 'em to shoot ya?”

“I don’t care!” the boy replies, already thinking about hitting the guard nearby again.

Nick knows he can’t stop him. If John wants to act like a madman, it’s just a matter of time before a tragedy occurs.

But all of a sudden, an authoritative voice intervenes.

A voice that John knows well.

“What’s going on here?”

John freezes and looks in the direction of the voice.

Standing a few steps away is his older brother, the Mayor McDonough.

“Brother,” John manages to say, still panting from the anger.

The mayor, however, isn't here to talk with his little brother. He doesn't even look at him. He just looks at the guards and then turns his icy gaze to Nick.

“Good evening, Mister Valentine,” he says in his formal, detached tone, looking at the synth as if he were a particularly unpleasant smell. But Nick doesn’t flinch. He knows the man too well.

“Mayor,” the detective answers in a calm tone. John, on the other hand, looks back and forth between his brother and the synthetic man, sensing that the situation is tensing.

The mayor smiles, revealing his teeth like a wolf about to pounce.

"I imagine you're concerned about the events of the day, given that you're not a full material of Diamond City yourself, right?" he asks, almost mockingly.

Nick raises an eyebrow. He clearly didn’t expect this kind of jab from the mayor. He looks at him for a few moments before responding.

“You got a point,” he replies, his voice still calm.

The young McDonough watches silently, still seething.

The mayor continues to glare at Nick for a few more moments, as if expecting him to flinch. Seeing that the synth remains stoic and unperturbed, he decides to turn his attention to John.

“And what about you,” he says, looking at his brother with a hint of annoyance in his eyes. "Why are you making such a fuss?"

The younger McDonough grits his teeth but remains silent. He looks at Nick for a moment, and the detective gives him a look that says, "Let me take care of it."

The older man stares at his brother.

“Don’t you have something better to do? Go somewhere else and hang out with the drifters like the loser you are or find some whore to blow off some steam.”

John’s anger begins to rise again, but Nick steps in before he does anything stupid.

“He’s just concerned about the... events, that’s all.”

The mayor looks at the synth, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Of course he is. He has always been so... emotional.” He stares at his young brother for another moment before speaking again. “And what exactly is he so concerned about, pray tell?”

John can’t hold back for long.

“You know damn well what I’m concerned ab—

Nick grabs his arm, stopping him from getting closer to his brother. John looks at him with furious eyes, but the detective shakes his head discreetly.

The mayor looks at John with a sardonic smile, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Yes? Tell me then, little brother. What’s bothering you so much?”

John is shaking with anger, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. He wants to punch this bastard so bad that it hurts. But Nick keeps his hand on his shoulder, holding him firmly in place.

The mayor continues to wait for an answer. He's clearly enjoying the sight of his brother struggling to control his anger. Nick, however, notices the guards on the side starting to get restless. They’re starting to worry about the situation.

But John sees red. The mere mockery in his brother’s voice drives him to the edge.

“Damn you,” he growls, trying to rip his arm free from Nick’s grasp. “Damn you, you hypocrite!”

The mayor’s smile widens.

“I'm a hypocrite, am I?” he replies, taking on a falsely hurt tone. “Don’t you think you’re taking it a bit too seriously, little brother? I'm just performing a little civic duty for the good of the city.”

John can no longer contain himself and tries more than ever to shake off Nick's hand, his eyes fixed on the face he now despises.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” he growls. “You don’t care about the city; you only care about yourself! You’re nothing more than a selfish, opportunistic bastard!”

The other man lets out a mocking laugh.

“Opportunistic? I prefer the term prudent.” He steps closer to John, their faces almost touching. “And it seems to me that I'm doing something much more useful and productive than you, brother.”

John feels like he could explode at any moment.

“Doing something useful?” he retorts, his voice filled with rage. “You're kicking innocent people out of their homes, throwing them into the Wastes, and you call it useful? You call it productive?”

John's chest heaves with fury, wanting to bite his brother's face. The mayor continues to smile, seemingly unperturbed by the youth reaction.

"Oh, come on," he says in a theatrical tone. “Ghouls. Innocent. Isn't that a bit of an oxymoron? They're ghouls, brother. They don't deserve any better than living out there, in the wasteland, among their own kind. That's just the way things are.”

John suddenly stops struggling in Nick’s hands, and the synth feels it very, very badly. The boy then raises his voice, his expression so white that it appears to be almost devoid of emotion.

“You’re right about one thing, brother. I’m better with drifters and those who are not like you. Anywhere, away from you and your kind.” He suddenly leaps out of the grip of Nick, who fails to catch him this time. “Never, do you hear me? I will NEVER SET FOOT IN THIS CITY AGAIN!”

The mayor smiles at John, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

“Suit yourself,” he replies, feigning indifference. “And don’t bother coming back, either. This city doesn't need people like you, and we certainly don’t need your... dubious associates.”

Nick throws the man a glance, feeling very well the treat, but stays silent, a grim look on his face.

John doesn’t cast a shadow of a glance over his shoulder as he moves forward with a determined step toward the line of ghouls that continues to be taken out of the city.

The mayor watches him go with a sardonic smile, like a snake ready to strike again.

“Good riddance,” he comments with satisfaction.

Nick, filled with worry, follows John, wishing he could stop him and talk some sense into him.

“John, hold up a sec...”

But John ignores him. His eyes are fixated on the line of ghouls, many of whom are too weakened to walk and are being dragged by the security guards.

There is nothing beyond that point that could change John’s mind.

His time in Diamond City is over.

His life as John McDonough, the younger brother of Guy McDonough, has come to an end.

Never again.

The Great Green Jewel will never again see his face.

#noskipnovember #no skip november #john mcdonough #hancock before hancock #john hancock #hancock fo4 #john hancock fallout 4 #hancock #nick valentine #fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 #fo4 companions #fallout4 #fallout 4 companions

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adarkandmagicalforest · 1 year ago

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if one more person claims that rickon 'most voted to be a red shirt' stark will be king over sansa being queen in the north, i will lose my whole fucking mind

sansas whole STORY has been about becoming queen, learning from queens, my girl 'when i am queen, i will make them love me'

sansa will be queen in the north, and if one more person says

'oh but jon -'

'oh but bran -'

'oh but rickon-'

'oh but a possible UNBORN BABY OF ROBB -'

SHUT THE FUCK UP

#jon is a bastard member of the NIGHTS WATCH who is still dead in the snow #if he comes back IF he will REMAIN a bastard in the nights watch #shut up about the show the show is not canon #bran is a TREE BOY beyond the wall who is presumed dead #rickon is a feral child who has never had an ounce of power over the story at large #why would this feral child not-even-a-CHARACTER #become king in the north #over sansa stark trueborn eldest daughter of eddard stark #the boy is a redshirt who has never been a person why would grrm make this storyline for sansa only to throw it away #that makes no sense #sansa stark #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #asoiaf

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ladyempty · 7 months ago

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Yandere Maegor, Daemon and Aegon I reaction to Reader running away and marrying someone else and having children?? Please 😭😭

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. | ° | English is not my first language. |

Aegon I

Aegon Targaryen I is the definition of a conqueror, courageous, intelligent and ambitious, with a friendly and captivating personality, easily lovable and admirable, but with few close friends. A certain air of enigma surrounded his figure, making people try to unravel him, attracted like moths by his light of monarchical dignity.

The king was comfortable and accustomed to sycophants, women dragging themselves for crumbs, or simply a single night in his bed. He was unfamiliar with something denied to him. He had "conqueror" in his name for a reason that went far beyond the submission of the other lords.

So it came as a complete shock when he was so bluntly denied when he approached you at one of the numerous banquets hosted by the royal family. At first, Aegon couldn't even process it, the features remained the same with a gentle smile and analyzing eyes and no words uttered. Like a person who was suddenly punched and in the first few seconds didn't understand or simply didn't know how to react. He just narrowed his purple eyes and watched you leave in an elegant bow.

The first time he was seriously denied, you hadn't done it to pique his interest, but rather to preserve your own honor, not wanting to be just another king's case knowing that he would return to Rhaenys at the end of the day. He admired this. If his plans were to push him away, you were not successful, you only made a dangerous obsession settle in your being.

He began to pursue you subtly, with gallant and courteous gestures, he urgently wanted to erase the first impression you had of him. Forcing the Targaryen to reveal his personality beyond the superficial, rambling for countless hours about some common interest and constantly summoning his presence, whether to read to him while I work or simply enjoy his warm presence.

And when his barriers were still not lowered, the king had to resort to more drastic measures, asking for her hand in marriage and making it clear that he would not accept being denied.

You would be softer when you were a wife and had duties towards him. The conqueror thought wrongly. Never in a thousand lifetimes did he expect you to run away. As soon as he found out, Aegon simply went crazy, the image made up of himself falling down the moment he threatened to destroy the entire seven kingdoms again if he didn't get you back.

Stone by stone, leaf by leaf. Everything was meticulously investigated by the countless guards spreading even through the most forgotten places by the gods. The Targaryen king became somewhat paranoid and easily irritated by his disappearance, not even Rhaenys could calm him down or change his mind. It was two years of pure torment.

Ah... When he finally found you in a small house in pentos... Married and obviously pregnant... It was like the world was open beneath your feet again. A loving feeling of betrayal. How dare you? Did you think that pathetic man could love you more than him?! How stupid.

He coldly killed her husband and none of her tears and pleas could change his mind. His heart was partially darkened by his betrayal. He won't forget anytime soon, you'll have to regain his trust to have the slightest amount of freedom. Countless guards will follow you closely, if you are even allowed to leave your quarters.

And your son? Don't worry, Aegon will assume paternity of the child even if it comes with rumors about having deflowered you before the wedding. It didn't matter. He just wouldn't let you mother a bastard or have that other man as a part of your life. Aenys was his heir anyway.

Maegor, The Cruel

You were certainly a very unlucky person to have caught the attention of the Targaryen king who was called cruel. You probably met at an event organized by him to celebrate one of his conquests, reaffirming his power and sovereignty as king, or you were one of his wives' ladies-in-waiting.

Whether you were from a big house, small house or even a commoner. It didn't matter. You were his the moment the king laid eyes on your enchanting figure.

Maegor was a man of few feelings, he didn't truly love any of his wives, it was lust mixed with the rational thought of creating heirs. But you were different, there was something special that made Maegor feel a bubbling sensation in his chest, a pleasant and addictive warmth like he had never felt before. It was something unfamiliar, one that he felt slightly hesitant to demonstrate or how to handle. But he just knew he wanted you and he would have you. At any cost.

Maegor was far from the definition of courteous, he knew little about the gallant arts or gentle love. Therefore, he had little knowledge about the courtship, the little he knew was from his mother's advice, who only knew about these things from the poets who surrounded Rhaenys.

Either way, he is not discreet. He doesn't even make an effort to appear less intimidating than he is. His eyes are fixed on you no matter the moment, his intimidating and darkening presence looming over you like a shadow. Once he even gave him a white fur coat, an animal he himself killed. It was his way of showing his interest. Something raw and rustic, without words, just proves to be worthy of you.

Either way, he wouldn't wait long. The moment he gets tired of waiting and the itch that grows in him is not relieved, he will attack. Demanding her hand in marriage from her, leaving no room for disagreement. He didn't expect you to run away in the middle of the night... Stupid little bird. Did you think he wouldn't come after you?

The man flew into a rage the moment he found out, destroying everything and everyone in his path, no matter if they were his wives, servants or important masters. Everyone should pay for his blinding rage. He turned the seven kingdoms into hell looking for you. A thick layer of blood, smoke, ash and corpse covering every corner of the kingdom.

And when he found you... Ah, dumb little bird, did he think he could hide for another year? Never.

He killed her husband the moment he saw the man, not even bothering to give him a painful death to pay for his crimes. He was as furious as a bull at the sight of any trace of red. He never thought about seriously hurting you, but he would have to punish you in a certain way to put you in your place. But his angry thoughts strayed the moment he caught sight of her swollen belly with a child.

A baby, that could and should be his. It was someone else's... It was an unforgivable betrayal. He could never fully forgive you. He would never forget or leave you alone for even a second.

He wouldn't kill the child, he would keep you away until you gave birth and then pretend that the child belonged to his lady-in-waiting, even if it was his child behind closed doors. It was a good way to keep tabs on you. Do you love your child? So better obey, you don't want something bad to happen, right?

Do not worry, dear. If you want to be a mother and wife so much, who would Maegor be to deny you that? You would be two things very soon.

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon was never a man to love madly, he fell in love a few times. He rolled from bed to bed without a fixed commitment, just looking for momentary fun and vague pleasures. He indulged in his desires without shame. Bad luck for you to have been so captivating. He was hooked on you the moment their eyes met his.

Any slight affection he ever had for other women and men was forgotten. For you he felt love. Real love that went beyond lust. After all, he had never touched you intimately and he already had such overwhelming feelings.What was it if not love? You were his only thought.The first thought when waking up and the last when going to bed.

And Daemon had no intention of hiding his affection. His hands constantly find their way to your shoulders or start from your waist, a touch that lingers on a simple handshake and a look so intense that it would make anyone else tremble in fear.

As expected, rumors were created questioning his honor and how terrible the prince was. When his father went to confront him, Daemon just smiled mischievously and just said he would marry you. To everyone's great surprise, after all, the Targaryen had demonstrated his unhappiness during his first marriage.

But you weren't like that woman uglier than a sheep. You were perfect in every aspect and in the very definition of the word. Something to be admired every day.

It was a strong, stunning blow when you disappeared during the night, your maids only finding cold, wrinkled sheets when they went to wake you up that morning.

Where in the seven hell were you? He would find you... You couldn't run away.

He destroyed, killed, tortured and threatened. He spent days flying with Caraxes to every corner of the seven kingdoms just to find you. Unsuccessfully. A long year without having your favorite addiction... You.

He drowned himself in e wine while you were gone, nursing a bubbling rage and constantly exploding at everyone, scaring even Viserys, who thought he had seen the worst side of his brother.

But nothing lasts forever. He found you. He invaded your home in Essos without hesitation. He didn't kill your husband at first because his stunned mind simply refused to understand that you had betrayed him in such a disgusting way.

But the moment she saw the little newborn baby in her arms. He understood everything.The black sister ran through her pathetic husband without mercy, blood spatter staining his robes in small crimson droplets.The cold, darkened eyes like never before were directed at you.

For a moment you feared for the baby's life, placing the small bundle against your chest to protect it.

"Don't worry, I would never hurt our son." He smiles as he says each word slowly. He would legitimize that child as his and didn't care what he would say. A good way to keep you behaved and not tarnish his bloodline with bastards. Obviously he would love his own children more with you, but he wouldn't show it so openly. You're lucky the child looks so much like you…

#yandere x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #Yandere Maegor Targaryen #maegor Targaryen x reader #aegon the conqueror #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryan #Aegon the conqueror x Reader

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cumikering · 1 month ago

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Underground fighter Ghost x reader

3.3k | smut, light bondage The fighter in the balaclava caught you wet handed

Who knew the top floor of the most expensive hotel in the city was an underground fighting ring.

You blinked when your cousin told you, stars in her eyes as she patted her boyfriend’s thick bicep. You’d heard all about it, about people getting absolutely beaten, injured beyond repair in the aftermath. Sure, he made quite the money from fighting, but you didn’t understand why he’d risk his life like that.

It took you a few months to realise that after the nights he came home battered, your cousin would flinch away from you. Shoulders up to her ears, she’d pull down her sleeves that had already gone past her palms, avoiding your eyes.

It was then you wished the bastard would quit his bouncer job and fought full time. The more he fought, the sooner he simply… wouldn’t return home. So when she invited you to his fight that night, you weren’t going to pass up on the small chance of watching him get beaten to a pulp.

While he won his first fight, he didn’t last long at all in the second against an opponent bigger than him. When he fell backwards with a thud from a particularly hard blow, next to you, your cousin gasped. You couldn’t say you sympathised. Motherfucker had it coming.

The crowd cheered as the referee started his count above the coughing meat. When his limp body was hauled off, your cousin broke out of her trance and rushed to the door of the arena with a sob. Blood poured out of his nose, smeared as his feet dragged through it on the white floor of the ring.

You figured she was off tending to him and would soon leave the hotel even when he didn’t warrant the attention. No matter. You remained in place among the crowd. You’d dressed up, and his departure was no reason to end the night early. Also, you probably wouldn’t experience anything like this again.

Waiters in crisp shirts distributed another wave of champagne and dainty finger food in wait of the next and final fight. Did it make you a sadist, that seeing the bastard get thumped brought you unbridled joy and made the blood pump in your veins? That satisfaction bubbled in you when his mouthpiece flew out of him after the finishing blow, knowing he deserved it?

No wonder people paid bank to watch these fights.

You didn’t have a chance to mull your feelings over, because soon, the crowd erupted. The reigning champion, Ghost, entered the ring in his black balaclava to face the winner of the previous round.

He shrugged off his black satin robe, revealing his threatening physique along with his sleeve tattoo and the black boxing shorts that hung low on his hips. A perfect contrast to his milky skin. He didn’t have defined abs, but even under the deceivingly soft layer, he was solid.

He rolled his shoulders, his back, the right half of it covered in burn scars, rippled with the movement. If you thought the last winner was big, well, he didn’t look like he stood much a chance against Ghost.

You’d witnessed the damage he could do, but it was anybody’s guess what Ghost was capable of. It was sick, like watching someone on his last mission, but he wouldn’t have been here if he didn’t have it in him. You found yourself rooting for the underdog.

The round started. The underdog put up the fight of his life, movements frantic while Ghost remained calm and calculating. Between jabs, his arms remained in front of his face, muscles bunching and rippling at his opponent’s impact.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the guilt that simmered from watching the act before you that lit your body on fire. Ghost’s feet were nimble as he dodged the attacks, like he was amusing his challenger, taking his time playing with his food.

The clock ticked away above the arena. The dance went on for the entire around without any meaningful attacks landing when you knew full well Ghost could have ended it. If he wanted to.

Thinking of the sheer power he reserved in his body sent chills down your spine. He could lift you with no problems at all, and more, you decided.

Your gaze followed him as the fighters returned to their corners for their two minute break. He scanned the audience, and when his hard eyes met yours, your heart skipped a beat. The eye contact lingered a moment too long before you could look away.

The next round started. The underdog seemed to have shaken off his panic, more precise now in his attacks, some of which were successful. Ghost, though, continued to dodge and block instead of going on the offense even well into the third round.

Was this a courtship display? Males parading their superiority over others, a promise of security. Whatever it was, it was working. You couldn’t tear your gaze off him.

The announcer proclaimed the last 30 seconds of the round. It was then Ghost landed a big punch, sending his unsuspecting opponent staggering. It was his chance for another, and another, until he straddled the poor lad, barely able to block the blows anymore. Ghost had this look in his eyes, completely locked in, like he only saw one thing.

It was clear who was going to come up on top. You snapped out of it and made your way to the bathroom. You couldn’t hold it anymore. You took the furthest stall, your heels clicked along the sparkling marble floor, past the velvet love seat by the entrance.

You didn’t want to. You cursed yourself as the thought crossed your mind. It was vile. Deranged. But as you sat down and closed your eyes to regulate your breathing, your thighs rubbed together against your will. You shouldn’t feel this way looking at a stranger demonstrating his power, even one with a massive and gorgeous body.

The crowd outside boomed, and it was now or never. You had to do something before people started piling in.

Just a little touch.

You hiked your skirt up, palming your soaked panties. You pressed on your mound, your head tipping back at the pleasure. You let out a shaky exhale, unable to stop yourself from pushing the fabric aside and circling your clit with a finger. Your breath hitched, hips jerking up towards your own touch.

It was then the door busted open. You gasped, heart hammering in your chest. The click of the lock turning echoed in the bathroom.

“Come out, little bird,” a man said, his voice a deep rumble.

Your thighs shut as footsteps approached, coming closer and closer before they stopped right outside your stall.

Chills ran down your spine. You knew no one else here. Did you unknowingly send a signal, some sort of secret code? Private societies often had covert symbols to identify each other.

“I know you’re in there. I don’t bite,” he said, and added in a low voice. “Unless you want me to.”

Heat rose up your neck. You stumbled to your feet and smoothed your dress down. It was humiliating, getting caught wet handed. You inhaled before cracking the door open, eyes on the floor, meaning to squeeze past and avoid the situation with the unknown man.

But nothing prepared you for what awaited. Ghost towered over you, his broad chest still slick with sweat, still in his shorts that hung even lower now as it strained against his growing situation. The light material didn’t leave much to the imagination. His gloves were off, but his hand wraps remained.

You froze, transfixed on the way he palmed himself.

He took a step back. “Door’s right there. If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”

You let another beat pass. You could have sworn you saw a smirk under that mask.

“Get on your knees.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice.

“Is this what you wanted?” he rasped, pushing the waistband of his shorts and underwear down, freeing his hardening cock in your face. “Don’t be shy now, you were just having fun all on your own. Don’t let me stop you.”

Tentatively, you took his cock, warm and heavy in your hand. You gripped him, pumping lightly as you planted little kissed on his tip. He hardened more as you kissed down the side of his length, pressing your nose against the trimmed hair on the base of his pulsing cock. His musk sent a jolt straight down to your core.

You pressed your other hand flat against his muscular thigh, your tongue swiped over his tip, tonguing him. He let out a deep sigh. You looked up to meet his brown eyes boring down on you.

You opened your mouth, sliding him along your hot, wet tongue, still holding his gaze. His cock twitched in your mouth as he let out a low groan. You could never fit the entirety of him in your mouth, but you were going to try anyway. Your lips wrapped around him, your cheeks hollowed as you slid down his thick shaft. His breathing grew laboured as his hips bucked. You continued to pump him, your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock, grazing the ridge of his tip every time you slid up.

Ghost’s tangled his hands in your hair as his hips jerked, but he held himself back with a stuttered breath. Thinking of him fucking your face made you whimper.

You reached down to your leaking hole, pushing your panties aside. You circled your clit, impossibly slick from the torture you endured. The contact made you hum in pleasure, making his grip tighten on your hair as he hissed.

You couldn’t help but hump your own fingers. Lost in the pleasure, your pace faltered on his cock as you moaned around him.

You let out a weak whimper when he pulled out. Your eyes fluttered open, and he pulled you up to your feet to wipe the corners of your mouth with his thumb. He undressed himself before sweeping you up in a princess carry. You let out a squeal as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He set you down in front of the loveseat, where he plopped himself down. He leaned back, muscled thighs spread as he stroked his soaking wet cock languidly. Like a predator waiting for his unwitting prey to fall into his trap.

“You want to come on my cock?”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, climbing over him.

Ghost helped you out of your dress and bra, eyes lingering a moment on your tits.

“The heels stay on,” he said, running his paws down your sides before settling on your hips, his hand wraps rough on your skin. “Set the pace, luv.”

A hand on his hard shoulder, you pulled your panties aside and lined him up with your entrance before lowering yourself. He tipped his head back, intense eyes trained on your face made you bite your lip. You were so painfully ready for him, your dripping hole didn’t put up much a fight despite his size. The initial breach made you gasp, your eyes shut close. You sank further down, bouncing a little each time, coating his already slick cock with your juices.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, aren’t you, doll?”

You nodded, still dizzy with the sensation of being stretched wide around him.

“Naughty girl, what got you so excited?”

The sentence that started with amusement ended with a shudder as you swallowed him down to his base. You panted, your pebbled clit grinding against his soft curls as your eyes flew open.

Up close, the faint dusting of freckles on his collarbones were visible. You ran your fingers along them as you took your time sliding up and down his throbbing cock, getting used to him. Your hands trailed to his bulging biceps, trying to not make it obvious you were feeling him up.

He peeled his mask up, bunching it over his nose. “Call me Simon,” he growled, kneading your ass.

On his cheek was a fading scar that disappeared up into his mask, while his jaw was lined with blonde, trimmed stubble.

“S- Simon.” You met his piercing brown eyes as your fingers traced his soft lower lip.

“Good girl.” He grasped your jaw and leaned in, speaking against your lips as they parted. “Scream it when you come on this cock.”

You picked up your pace, exposing your neck to him as you moaned. Simon planted open mouthed kissed up your neck before licking up your throat. He inhaled sharply, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Tell me your name,” he said, his breath hot against your neck.

You might be on him, but you’d be a fool to think you had the authority here.

You babbled your name and he moved his hand to wrap around the base of your neck. He leaned in, repeating it, tasting it on his tongue before capturing your lips.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle. He took his time with your lower hip, giving it small bites before swiping his tongue across it. You were the first to part your lips, moaning into his mouth. It only spurred him on, his tongue meeting yours as he deepened the kiss.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You were made for me, weren’t you?” He panted, his thumb caressed your hip. “Come on my cock, doll.”

Simon gathered your hands behind your back and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you flush against his firm body. His thighs parted further before he thrusted up, the move knocking the breath out of you.

You threw your head back, the feeling of him ramming your soaking pussy made you heady. His balls, now drenched in your juices, squelched against your ass at every thrust. The familiar heat pooled in your belly as the mewls continued to pour out of you. He was hitting all the right spots.

“Simon- you’re going to make me come,” you said breathlessly.

He bit and sucked on your shoulder, hard enough for it to sting, and you knew it was going to leave a mark. It was enough to push you over the edge.

“Si- I’m coming, ah- Simon!”

You unravelled with a moan that you stifled by biting down on your lip. He let you ride your high, continuing his leisurely thrusts as the tension in your body subsided. You slumped over him as you caught your breath.

“Did a good job for me,” he muttered. He angled you by the chin, kissing your neck for a moment longer before cradling the back of your head.

In a swift motion, he laid you down on the loveseat. You watched as he pushed your shaky legs open, making room for himself to climb over you. His kisses trailed from your collarbones down your sternum. Still buzzing from your orgasm, your back arched as his tongue grazed over your nipple, his hand massaging your other breast.

“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbled between kisses as he made his way to your hips.

Simon gave them a few gentle sucks before his mouth descended to your pussy. He planted kisses on your mound, inhaling your scent. He licked a strip up your slit before laving at your entrance, teasing, coating his tongue in your juices. When he pursed his lips over your clit, it sent a zap up your spine making your thighs close over his head.

“Simon-“

“Let me eat,” he grumbled, easily holding your legs down for him to feast.

His tongue continued to dance on your clit, still achingly sensitive, but your hips couldn’t help but buck up into him as you continued to leak. He let out a soft laugh and you let out a broken moan from the vibration.

You raised your head, eyes meeting his as he watched you through his pretty, blond lashes. His deep brown eyes glinted this time, like he was having too much fun tormenting you.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he said, planting one last kiss on your clit.

He positioned himself between your thighs, a knee on the couch and a foot on the floor. He slid himself along your slit, painfully slow, but the friction was enough to make your breath stutter.

“You still owe me another one.”

He undid his hand wrap with his teeth, using it to bind your wrist and pushed them above your head. He curled your fingers over the armrest of the loveseat. He sank down on you, his forearm flexing by your head. He brought the tip of his cock to your opening, nudging it playfully as he glazed himself in your arousal.

“Ready, luv?” he rasped into your ear.

“Need you, Simon,” you whined, lifting your hips to him.

He pushed forward, letting out a low groan as he entered you. His hand moved to your hip, pinning you down to the seat. It only took him a few pumps to bottom out in you.

“Love it when you say my name,” he whispered against your lips before capturing them in another gentle kiss.

His thrusts quickened, mouth moving over to the side of your head. You held onto the armrest above you as his hot breath puffed over your ear, heavy as he groaned and panted. Each plunge coaxed a soft whine out of you, pushing you closer and closer to your release. He seemed to feel you clenching on him because he straightened up before circling your clit with the pad of his thumb, making you gasp.

“Give me another one, luv,” he breathed, his half-lidded eyes trained on you. “No need to be quiet.”

He swiped up and down over your pulsing clit, the pace of his hips unrelenting. Small whimpers spilt out of you before you came undone with a moan, your body shook as your face twisted in pleasure. The pretty face he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away from.

It was all he needed to chase his own high as he leaned back in, driving mercilessly into you. You thought you felt the loveseat skidding on the floor as he threaded his fingers with yours, still wet from making you come.

Simon pressed his forehead against yours as his eyes bored down on yours. He closed his mouth over yours, groaning into you.

“Come for me, Simon,” you said against his lips. “Want your come on me.”

His hips stuttered, whimpers tumbling out of his parted lips. He pulled out with a low moan, spilling on you before continuing to softly hump your belly to ride out his high.

He collapsed, squashing one side of your body under his weight. He nuzzled your neck, as his chest stopped heaving.

“You’re crushing me.”

He let out a small laugh, pushing himself off you and untying your wrists, his shoulders and neck still flushed. He took you by the hand to the sink to help you clean up and get dressed before minding himself.

You stood there facing each other wordlessly for a moment, unsure where to look. You didn’t want to be caught ogling him even when you were dying to, but your eyes cut to him when he pulled his mask off. You took his face in: his pale skin, his nose with the little bump on it, the way the cut on his cheek ran up next to his left eye.

Simon took a step towards you, pushing you against the sink and lifting you up to sit on its edge before giving you a chase kiss.

“Sorry about this,” he pressed his lips against the small bruise on your shoulder and the inside of your left wrist. “Would you come watch me again next week?” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“If you want me to,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Let’s get dinner.” He kissed your cheek, smiling against your skin. “I’ll drive you home after.”

Neighbour Simon if he still had his family Ghost gave you a piggyback ride Ghost's online fantasies came true Masterlist

@tiredmetalenthusiast @astraluminaaa

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o-sachi · 4 months ago

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My Golden Girl ‧₊˚ ⋅ One Shot (Request)

ଳ Kaiser loves his generous golden girl, but he hates it when people take advantage of her kindness

ଳ character; michael kaiser (bllk)

ଳ tags; afab reader, no y/n, FLOOF, soft mihya

[🐟]: This takes place before the Blue Lock project, so Kaiser should still be in Germany and practicing with Bastard.

The moon can only shine at night because of the sun.

That's what your relationship is like with Kaiser.

He honestly had no idea where he'd be without you. There were days when he felt like he was slowly losing himself—drowning in the pressure to remain at the top. But as he teeters on the edge, you always come to pull him right back in.

Your sweet words at the end of his day were enough to keep him grounded. As a matter of fact, you barely needed to do much to pacify him. But knowing you—you would go over and beyond for him. Seriously. It puzzles him why someone as pure as you would mess around with someone like him.

But who was he to question you?

"Yo, your girlfriend's been here for like an hour. Have you even seen her already?" Kaiser snaps out of his daydream as the locker room door swings open. It was some guy from his team who he never really bothered to remember the name of. His gaze follows his teammate as he saunters over to his locker.

"Eh... but she's out helping the managers again." That's when his attention was truly caught. "She's what?" "Y'know... handing out bottles and stuff. You should ask her to become a manager too. She'll fit right in." Tsk.

Kaiser shakes his head and grabs the towel off of his head. He aimlessly chucks the piece of fabric to the side and gets up without another word.

His teammate watches—dumbfounded—at the lack of a response. "Hey, Kai-"

But as soon as he spoke, Kaiser was already out of the door.

He wasn't angry or annoyed that you showed up unannounced. Truthfully, he didn't know what he felt. There was a reason why he avoided bringing you or inviting you to his practices.

You were too kind for your own good and the people here aren't shy about taking advantage of you.

Kaiser was stuck between a rock and hard place. One on hand, he loved that you cared enough about him to go out of your way even help the management or even his team. He couldn't bring himself to scold anyone—especially not you. On another, he knew what they were doing to you. They pretended to be all nice and sweet when asking you favors. But don't they have any shame asking so much from you?

Just like what Mr. Forgettable Name said earlier, you were almost like a manager here. But, fuck that. You're supposed to be a guest. You're his girlfriend, so you deserve nothing but the best treatment.

Yet, here he was—watching you as you scurry around, handing water bottles to his... not teammates. What the hell were you even doing giving water to the second string players? Jesus. He wasn't even sure if they were on the second string.

The more he observed, the angrier he became. Someone better hold him back and tell him what he just witnessed wasn't what he thought because one of the players definitely handed you an empty bottle—which, of course, you threw in the trash for him.

Sure, he's probably tired from running all day and yeah, you were closer to the trash bin. But who the fuck does he think he is to ask you of something like that?

He didn't even notice that his legs moved on their own. His body wanted nothing but to walk over to you. Never mind what his heart was telling him.

"Hey."

You spun around, knowing whose voice it was that almost startled you. His bright blue eyes peered down at you and he seemed... a bit pissed.

"Sorry... I know I should've told you that I was coming today, but-" Kaiser sighs heavily, running his tattooed hand through his blonde locks. "Don't apologize. I'm not mad—I just..."

But he was—he was most definitely mad. Just not at you.

It was like the world was testing the limits of his patience today because damn was he not even able to finish his sentence without another person bothering you.

As Kaiser struggled to express himself, one of the managers taps you on your shoulder. She had on the fake smile she always wore whenever she'd ask you a favor.

"Can you go distribute the lunch for the players today? I just have some paperwork to go over. You know how it is... managers get busy~"

Before you could even respond, Kaiser steps forward—putting distance between you and the manager. "And why would she do that? Isn't that your job?"

You grabbed his arm, telling him that it's alright. In a way, his team and the people who manage it have become your friends. You appreciate them for taking care of your boyfriend while you're not there and you're grateful for their warm greetings whenever you walk past any of them.

There wasn't any issue in you helping these people... or so you thought.

The manager smiles nervously at Kaiser, but she doesn't back down. "Well... I mean... if she's willing to do it, right? What's the harm in that?"

Kaiser exhales audibly. This is why he doesn't confront this dynamic. The manager was partially right because his girlfriend was always willing to help no matter what. Now he looked like the bad guy here.

The conversation shifted to an awkward atmosphere. All three of them felt it. But she was the first to break the ice... as usual.

"Mihya, it's alright. I like helping out the team. Consider it as me helping you as well," she says, smiling warmly.

"Baby," he clicks his tongue. "Forgive me, but... how the hell does it help me when you hand out water and food to these third stringers?"

Your eyes widen. "Mihya! Tone it down; they'll hear you."

He scoffs. "So what? Let them hear it."

At this point, the manager had grown quiet, slowly distancing herself from the developing quarrel.

"I've had enough watching people like her," he says, pointing at the manager before she could escape, "take advantage of you."

"It's not your job to hand out lunch boxes to everyone nor is it your responsibility to make sure they're hydrated. Baby—you might as well wipe their sweat for them while you're at it," he adds.

As he released these pent up frustrations, he failed to notice the gradual increase in the volume of his voice. It wasn't just you and the manager hearing it—but everyone else on the field. Even those who were far away, ran over to the commotion.

Kaiser never gave up even a second for you to butt in. "Remember that time they asked you to run to the nearby convenience store to buy God-knows-what? Or that time you had to go with... with... whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is to the hospital?"

"It's Igor," a faint voice reminds him.

"Shut the fuck up!" he retorts. Kaiser sighs deeply, the realization that everyone else was listening finally dawning on him. "What I'm trying to say is that... I'm just tired of seeing you be used like that, especially since I know how pure your heart is and all that," he says, softly.

He wanted the last part to be heard only by you. After all, you were the only one that mattered to him at the moment.

You were... well... staring at him in awe. Speechless. Unmoving. Stunned.

You were clueless to how he felt. Sure, they did ask too much of you. But you didn't think Kaiser was observing you to that degree. Your heart melted at his personal show of affection right in front of everyone.

"Mihya..."

You felt stupid that you could only mutter his name despite everything he had said. But before you could do anything else, his large hand grabs on to your wrist—pulling you along with him. His strides were purposeful and his grasp was firm. You hurriedly shuffled to keep up with his pace.

After gaining some distance from the group, Kaiser halts and turns to look back at them one last time.

"If I see any of you ask a favor from her again—I'll make sure to deal with you."

A promise and a threat.

He yanks you again and continues walking away. Overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, you try to stop him despite his strength. "Hey... slow down. Let's talk... please?"

Kaiser blatantly ignores you, only stopping once you were inside of the facility and away from prying eyes. The firm grip that once wrapped around your wrist was replaced by a gentle caress as he brought your hand to his lips.

"Sorry... I got carried away. You know I can't let them do tha-"

"It's okay. I understand. Thank you for standing up for me," you say, cutting him off.

He blinks a couple of times, surprised at how well you took it. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad at my boyfriend protecting me?"

You couldn't help but giggle at him. How silly would it be for you to get angry at him right now? What he did was one of the sweetest things anyone could do for someone; not everyone is brave enough to stand up for their significant other like that.

His look of astonishment was quickly replaced with a small smile. "I guess you're right, baby."

And before you know it, you were already caged in his warm embrace.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #kaiser blue lock

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laurorne · 5 months ago

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༊*·˚ CRAVING YOUR WARMTH | aegon ii targaryen x targaryen bastard sister!reader

summary: two dragons who seek to move closer for warmth during their grief must remain apart, as they can only hurt one another with their sharp teeth and barely contained flames. though they both share the intentions of a close relationship, they're unable, for reasons they cannot avoid.

content: targaryen incest, angst, allusion of self-mutilation/harm, bastardphobia in westeros, night after intimacy suggested, self-hatred, blood, wonky metaphors and personification, no beta we die like vizzy t, badly written angst, that damn necklace

word count: 1.5k

a/n: let me tell you that i struggle writing angst, but god do i love reading it. i'm like my own self entertaining paradoxical concept and it astounds me

A gentle hand smoothing over his back is what stirs him from the throes of sleep, nails skating along his marked skin softly enough to tickle. He shifts as the hand moves from the expanse of his back up to his hair, rubbing circles into the crown of his head. Twirling bits of hair between deft fingers as she presses a kiss to the slope of his shoulder.

He hums, limbs stretching out clumsily as he rolls onto his side, fingers weak as his hand dances along the goose-down duvet until it reaches her. Her, and her softness, and her warmth.

“Wife.” He’s barely awake, even with the exasperated sigh that comes from his older sister.

“We are not wed, Aegon.” A gentle reminder from soft lips, her eyes taking in his tired demeanour, the curve of his brow.

She brushes the strand of choppy hair from his face, thumb dragging along the apple of his cheek.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, lids finally fluttering open as he stares up at her with those watery eyes. The ones he knew made her weak to suggestion. He lets his hand creep up her calf –where he can still feel the divets of scars from their childhood running through the gardens– until it finds home on the hand she has in her lap, he threads his fingers with hers. The number of rings adorning her fingers was thanks to him: he and his obsession with keeping his older sister glamoured.

Imported Dornish rings that gleamed with the heat of the sun, Essosi ornate cloth and dresses that were far from the modesty of Court, hair pins adorned with pearls from the Summer Isles, and an intricate necklace crafted from the smelted metal of a Valyrian sword, inlaid with gemstones he had pulled from the Red Keeps vaults.

She was wearing it now, the stones gleaming under the sun that spotted through the lace curtains of her room. The engraved details scatter the few beams of light they catch like dew drops upon spider silk. The stones dangle between the valley her breasts create, the smallest of them twirls some intricate dance as she shifts. Like molten silver, it fits her without any of the stiffness metal should have.

“We should be.” He glances down at his hand intertwined with hers and watches her thumb rub over his —in the way she always has ever since childhood— it makes him all the more rueful.

He’s hopeful, far beyond it. His bones ache and his head throbs from a swelling hangover, and he feels his throat ache something terrible at its use. His eyes trail from their hands to her face, he wants anything aside from sorrow to be there.

It’s worse.

Her brows are furrowed as she stares down at him with pity, oh how he wishes it wasn’t pity.

“Oh, sweet boy.” She pulls her hand from his grasp and holds his face in her gentle hands with all the care he needs. “Some things, they just can’t be.”

His lip curls, a pathetic smile covering his visage as he cups the backs of her hands in his own. “But they could. Helaena would not care, she loathes our marriage. As do I. We could take Valyrian vows on Dragonstone. Just as our sister and uncle have. We could leave.”

“Aegon.” A wistful breath of his name, pained and twisted with grief of things that never were and never will.

“We don’t need to stay. Just you and I, riding atop Sunfyre. Across the Narrow Sea.” He moves onto his knees, staring into her wet doe-like eyes as he speaks. He doesn’t leave her an opportunity to doubt him. Doesn’t allow her to pull away as he keeps her hands on his jaw.

Her lips twitch and so do her fingers against his. “Aegon, don’t be foolish.”

“You mustn’t know what you mean to m-”

“Aegon, please.” She tries to pull away now, but he winds his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and presses forward. Wine-stained lips crushing against the curve of her nose, fluttering across her brow like the gentle wings of a cotton moth as it devours silks and linen allied— devourer of all things beautiful and plain.

He drags his lips to hers finally, soaking her up in a way only someone as depraved as he could. It’s like stretching out upon a rock after not feeling the son for years, like stripping yourself of shackles you’ve worn since birth. Her lips are chapped, a split in her lips from all the worrying she does to the poor thing scratches along his upper. He surges forward, pulling her so fully against him that it fills some empty part of him, like a puzzle piece that’s never been slotted into place. But oh —how it has— and how it always disappears just as quickly as it comes to him. He licks at her bottom lip, sucks it into his mouth and shudders out a breath as she reciprocates. Her lashes fluttering against his cheeks as they finally shut, as she cups his neck and presses her butterfly kisses onto him, licks into his mouth as she breathes hotly across his face in a way only Aegon can enjoy.

He nips at her tongue accidentally, overexcited and eager as he is. And that seems to bring her back from whatever hole he had dragged her into. But he persists, hand drifting down to the smooth metal of her necklace as he thumbs at a jewel. He tries to savour her presence even as her face scrunches and her fingers fist the hairs behind his ears. It nearly pains Aegon, with the way his head tilts away from her just slightly, Adams apple jumping against pale skin as he stares oh-so adoringly, heady breaths stinking of wine fanning her bruised lips.

“We could start a family in Essos. As many children as you want.” He desperately reaches for her again.

“Aegon.”

“A home in Braavos, on the beach. Where we could lo-”

A hiccuped sob that withers in her throat is what stops him, punches the wind from his lungs.

Her lips are pursed and her hands have loosed upon his hair and move to cup his ruddy cheeks. Nails pressing into the flesh of his face hazardously. His eyes are dark and his lips part as he stares up at her, he sees the tears edging along her waterline. That deep frown she has when she’s trying not to cry, whether it's about something he had done or when she’s ordered by their Grandsire to stop her hysterics.

“Aegon,” It’s a sullen whisper as she lets his face go entirely, fingers slipping down his chest before they land in her lap again. “I am not a trueborn daughter. I will never be. I am not right in the mind. I will birth lunatics and monsters and wailing death. You can’t love me.”

He doesn’t know what to say, for once he has no sharp-tongued quip or comment. He pushed her from a height, just when she had finally reached the top of her spire. He retracts, fingers loosening from the grip he had on her pale hair, and lets her fall back onto the plush of her bed as she stares up at him like he’s burnt her. Like he’s dragged a dagger across the soft of her flesh and told her he never loved her. She pushes herself away, curling in on herself as tears cut through the flush of her cheeks. A wobbly exhale, and another as he drags a hand through her hair.

Her fingers dance down her neck and across the skin of her arms where they find home on the pale scars marring the upper parts of her arms. He can see her fingertips quivering with the urge to dig. To pull at chords of muscle beneath her skin and scratch at her bones. She had told him about things she saw. Things that hunted at the edge of her vision and scattered when she went looking. Dreams that came to the waking world with her. A pale man with the stench of darkness seeping from his pores.

“I love yo-” He leans forward to comfort her.

“You don’t.”

“I know that I love you.”

“You know nothing, Aegon.” She pulls herself to the edge of the bed and drags herself to stand, the silk bedsheets slip away and her goosebumps raise upon her bruise-marred skin, she’s as bare as the day she was born. Her throat is too tight and her necklace feels heavy as she stumbles to the secret passage, she slips from the room unbidden and leaves a smudge of blood on the wooden grain of the bookcase as Aegon sits in her bed. Salty tears of his own roll down his face as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen angst #bastard!reader

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telvannitea · 2 months ago

Text

pairing: gaz x fem!reader x price

notes: unprotected sex, angst/comfort, insecure!reader, price and gaz are construction workers, today's theme is "communication is key", not proofread

wc: 1.6k

you knew from the moment your relationship with kyle started that it wasn't meant to last. you just wish it hadn't happened so soon.

kyle first mentions his coworker john, in passing. a stray comment here and there, usually about some situation on the job. you nod and smile along every time, doing your best to ignore the uncertainty taking root.

you put a face to the name when kyle shows you a photo john sent him, a selfie after a mishap with an electric saw. even covered in sawdust, you can tell that john price is a handsome man, a bit older than you and kyle.

you start formulating your exit plan.

kyle shows up after work one evening, his coworker's broad frame following him through the doorway. you're sitting on the couch in nothing but a ratty tank top and sleep shorts. you yank the throw over you, too conscious of the extra set of eyes in your flat.

"john's here to watch the game, luv. 's that alright?" kyle asks, coming over to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"yeah, of course," you mumble. you feel john's gaze on you. it makes you want to claw off your skin. "let me get out of your way, then-"

"should at least introduce yourself before you go runnin' off, dove." john interrupts. he strides forward when you get up from the couch, throw wrapped firmly around your waist, and catches you in a suffocating embrace. his scent is familiar yet not: you recognize the musk of a hard day's work, but it doesn't make you feel safe like it does with kyle.

he steps back slightly, still holding onto to your stiff shoulders. this close, you have no choice but to meet his eyes. too blue, too cool.

"so you're garrick's girl. heard a lot about you, sweetheart." one side of his mouth quirks up and you feel like you've been told a joke you're not in on.

you fall asleep to muffled laughter that night.

a week later, john is once again back at the flat, this time with an arm sling and a duffel bag packed for an extended stay. they both have the decency to look sheepish while kyle mumbles something about an overextended shoulder and john not having anyone to look after him at home. you're withering inside at the thought of being alone with the man your boyfriend is clearly enamored with, but you offer a thin smile while you say you're happy to take the couch.

you wake to groans from the bedroom and rush to john's side, kyle long having left for work. despite your uncertainty around this man, the sight of his genuine pain twists your insides. you fall into an easy routine: you offer him silent company and meals during the day, and kyle returns in the evenings with dinner and the latest workplace gossip. kyle tries to cajole you into helping john bathe with an emphatic, "we're all friends here, luv!"

right.

you wake one morning and decide that it's the day. john's injury is nearly healed - he tossed the sling days ago. he and your boyfriend have developed a domestic bubble around the two of them, one that you couldn't pop even if you wanted to.

it was inevitable, you have to keep reminding yourself.

so you send an eager-to-be-of-use john price down the street to the mart with a nonsense list and round up your possessions. you've been slowly transferring your clothing to your car, what remains fits in a suitcase. you leave cash on the coffee table for the month's rent.

"goin' on a trip, dove?"

you turn sharply, startled to discover john entering the flat. the bastard even has a bag of groceries dangling from one hand.

you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it.

"bit cruel to leave our boy blindsided like that, innit?" he asks patiently, hunching his shoulders to make himself seem less like the threat you know him to be.

"it's none of your business." you can feel the unshed tears in your voice and you hate yourself for it, holding the handle of your suitcase in a vice grip. "please just let me leave."

john moves slowly so as not to spook you, setting the bag down on the floor. "let's talk about this, yeah?" he holds both palms out and takes a cautious step forward. "i know kyle isn't the best at communicating-"

"i got the message just fine!" you wail. ugly tears are spilling down your face but you keep going, "i'm not fucking stupid, i know when i'm not needed, when i'm not wanted."

your vision is too blurred to see, but john's face falls apart at your confession. "oh, dove," he breaths, and he's on you in a second, cradling your face, crowding you when you try to flinch away. "shh, shh, don't cry, love, that's not true. you mean the bloody world to kyle, you're all he ever talks about." he wipes the moisture from your cheeks with his thumbs, insistently gentle.

you shake your head, "he doesn't want me anymore, he wants you." you whine. john lifts your chin, tutting at you. "poor, poor dove. let me show you."

he guides your mouth to his, smothering your squeal of surprise. he licks between your lips, humming out his pleasure. the sensation of his tongue caressing the roof of your mouth makes your knees go weak. he's grinning down unto your messy, bewildered face when he pulls back. "been wantin' to do that for a long time. as sweet as he said."

you're pushed backwards towards the couch until you're sitting, john crouched in front of you, thick hands grasping your knees. "let me make you feel better 'til kyle's here with his apologies."

he doesn't tell you about the phone call he made during the errand you forced on him, ordering kyle to return home and "fix the mess he's made".

you don't resist when john pries your legs apart, working your pants and underwear down your legs. his kiss has left your mind pleasantly fuzzy, any prior concerns momentarily forgotten.

"that's it, that's a good girl," john hums, gaze fixed between your legs. "such a pretty little cunt."

he wastes no time, angling your hips up, licking you from ass to clit in one long stripe. you cry out, bucking your hips, but john holds firm. he dips back down, curling into your hole, coaxing your slick out with his tongue. he moans shamelessly into your pussy, hooded eyes trained on yours, watching your every reaction.

a thick finger slides into you at the same time john starts sucking on your clit in earnest. you're so desperate, tugging at his hair and digging your heels into his back, keening helplessly. "oh, fuck- right there, please!"

you cum at the same time kyle bursts through the door, chest heaving, nearly tripping over your luggage still on the floor. "shit, look at you two."

the picture you and john make have kyle bricked in his work jeans. your trembling legs are still draped over john's shoulders, release glistening on your skin and the lower half of his face.

suddenly embarrassed you try to close your legs but it's no use, john's hands are stone. he clicks his tongue, "no use gettin' shy now, sweetheart. come 'ere, garrick."

kyle moves to attention, taking his place next to you on the couch. he pulls you eagerly onto his lap, until your back is flush with his chest, legs help up, leaving your pussy exposed. kyle's bulge rests against the curve of your ass, throbbing and twitching.

"look at you, doll," he groans against the curve of your neck, reaching over to play with your folds. "so fucking pretty like this. you gonna let us take care of you?"

your gaze falls on john, stepping between kyle's legs, thick cock freed from his pants. he doesn't have kyle's cervix-bruising length but the girth is enough to make your insides clench. he taps the turgid head against your clit once, twice before notching it at your entrance. he leans forward, bracing himself on the arm of the couch.

"you ready, dove?" he asks. you nod.

"please." you whisper.

then he's pushing in and all three of you are moaning, john molding himself to your walls while kyle holds you through it. john curses under his breath when he bottoms out - you can feel him twitching inside of you.

"takin' it so well, good fucking girl." kyle pulls your shirt up, freeing your tits from your bra and into his masterful hands. "drives her crazy when you play with her nipples." he plucks the tips of your breasts, giving john a wicked grin. the pleasure shoots straight to your clit and you tighten like a vice around john.

"fuck-" he pulls nearly all the way before driving his hips forward, sharp thrusts driving you up kyle's body. his pace is relentless, chasing your body until you're nearly curled into a ball, feet dangling off his broad shoulders. he ducks down to catch kyle in a sloppy kiss, driving himself deeper, kissing your cervix on every downstroke. a hand reaches down to rub your clit, at this point you're too fucked out to tell who.

you whimper and scream when your climax hits you, clenching down on john's cock until he follows, rutting into you to ensure to take every last drop of him. kyle coos loving nonsense at you while you come down, rubbing your hips with his thumbs. you whine when john pulls out, too empty.

"you good to head to the bedroom, luv?" kyle whispers and you nod. he makes his way down the hall with you cradled in his arms, john close behind.

you're ready for a hot shower and a long nap, so you're surprised when deposited on the bed, kyle and john looming over you.

your boyfriends spend the rest of the night showing you just are wanted you are.

#call of duty #price x gaz x reader #pricegaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john price #the tea from telvanni #cod smut #love me pathetic cringefail reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #fem reader

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chosopie · 8 months ago

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SUGAR BABY - TOJI FUSHIGURO

Toji loves a woman with big bills.

You came from a family of lawyers who owned a big law firm in the city. Your whole life had already been set the moment you were born, and like the rest of your family, you became a lawyer who could easily earn six figures like it just falls from the tree in your huge backyard.

Currently, you were still in law school when you met Toji from a bar.

“Where do you think you’re going, bastard?” The security yelled, using all his efforts to push the big muscular man away from the door. “If you’re gonna drink here, make sure you can pay the fucking bill.”

“I’ll handle it,” you tapped the security guard, waving your card at him. “It’s on me.” You winked at Toji, and in return, he flashed you a wide and cunning grin.

“Damn, lady. Do I know you?” Toji asked.

“No, but let’s change that.” You smile back.

Every Friday night, you’d meet up at the same bar and you’d always treat him to drinks and food. As you both grew closer, you’d meet up at other places like the mall so he could watch you shop.

“Do you want anything?” You’d ask while your eyes remained fixated at the handbag you were checking.

“Why do you ask? Are you going to buy me something?”

“Yes. Just show me,” you nonchalantly said like you could buy the whole store with the wave of your black card.

Toji’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open. “Anything?”

“Yep.”

In the end, you ended up buying a Rolex for him.

“How could I ever repay you?” Toji thought.

There was one thing Toji was proud to offer you—his cock. He was very much aware of how much he was packing. He had a generous length and girth that would surely satisfy you once you get used to its size. It was a perfect gift for you.

His offer was to let you use his dick to get off. He became your sex toy or personal dildo. You’d ride him at your own pace while all he did was watch in amusement. He would occasionally run his big calloused hands over your waist or help you go up and down on his cock when your thighs start shaking form exhaustion.

“You like being used like this?” You teased.

“Yeah, so when am I getting my car?” He groaned as you rode him at a slow and agonizing pace.

“I already told you, the newest model will be coming next week. Be patient or I’m not letting you cum anymore,” you warned him through gritted teeth. You hissed at the feeling of him stretching you out.

Other times, he’d pester you in a special way in order to get what he wanted. His face would be buried between your thighs, tongue slowly lapping at your wet cunt like a kitten.

“Baby… my co-worker Shiu has these new Ferragamo’s. Can I get those too?” He lowly said, his breath fanning your pussy.

“If you can make me cum four times then, maybe I’d let you.”

With his skilled tongue, he was able to fulfill his task, leaving you breathless and shaking.

When you would come home stressed from work, you’d let him fuck you and do all the work. Toji was a person-pleaser when it came to you. It wasn’t just for the gifts and money, but also because he was a sucker for your sweet praises.

“This fine?” He picks a medium and consistent pace, giving you room to ease up around his dick.

“Mhm,” you’d hum in response, your eyes closed as you quickly fell into a relaxed and satisfied state.

Toji was quite the company. He was a pretty thing to look at and his dick worked magic for you. You were definitely going to keep him around for a long time. After all, he was quite the investment.

#rev.writes #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji smut #jjk toji

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roosterr · 1 year ago

Text

white flag ✹ proglogue

note: can't believe i'm actually writing for ghost, yes he was the reason i got into cod, but i havent thought about him since like january lol. has this trope already been done? yes. am i doing it anyway? also yes.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 2.2k

no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'

summary: if there's one constant in your life, it's that ghost doesn't like you, so when your house burns down and you have no choice but to move in with him, it feels like your life is on a steady downhill spiral.

warnings: slowburn, some angst, your house burns down, ghost is mean, sort of enemies to friends to lovers

ao3

【next】

it's been almost a year since you'd joined the taskforce. nearly twelve months of gruelling hard work, and not for a single second had lieutenant ghost treated you with a shred of familiarity. at first, you thought he'd get over it, that he'd get past his obvious trust issues and warm up to you eventually, but you quickly gave up on that idea.

clearly, you'd been too optimistic.

which was unfortunate, considering how much you'd come to care for the prickly bastard, no matter how dismissive he was of you. it started slow; when you were first recruited, you held a great deal of respect for him because of his reputation, and you'd naively even looked forward to working with him. when you discovered his less than friendly demeanour, to say you were disheartened would be an understatement. he was withdrawn and stoic, never sparing you so much as a passing glance and a barked order, whether you were in the field or not.

the other sergeants had assured you that he wasn't as cold as he comes across; soap and gaz both told you how he'd acted the same towards them when they first met – he was a lone wolf, not used to having to look out for teammates.

the more time you spent on missions with him, the more you saw of the person beneath the hard exterior. you saw how he seemed to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses, things you never would've picked up on. he always made sure the team had eaten, disguised as a gruff order to stay on your game. when he got angry, it would be because someone put themselves in danger, not because they screwed up the mission. you saw someone who'd been through hell and come out the other side swinging.

before, you'd respected ghost as a soldier and your superior, but now, after spending so much time with him, your perspective of him has changed. he intrigued you; he's quiet, introverted but not shy, more observant than you could imagine, and so closely guarded you wondered if he'd ever be able to open up. you'd only heard whispers of the things he'd been through in the past, so despite his obvious animosity towards you, you treated him with the respect you thought he deserved – like a person, and you'd hoped that with time, he could see you as more than just a soldier too. though he still didn't like you, you liked to think that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding.

and that leads you to your problem; you wanted to know him. every tiny crack in his facade made you more and more curious about the man behind the mask – about simon, rather than ghost, but from what you could tell, he didn't hold the same sentiment about you. where he would banter back and forth with the others over comms, he'd fall silent whenever you join in. every minute little mistake was amplified to him, you've lost count of the amount of times he's berated you for things he's excused for others. it made your heart ache that you just couldn't win with him, and you feared you'd never understand why.

but now, as you sit shivering with a shock blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching the smouldering remains of what was your home in the middle of the night, freezing and exhausted, you'd never felt more hated.

you could hear them, ghost and the captain, talking in hushed voices a little ways down the road from where you sit. they probably think they're being subtle, discussing what to do with you like you're not even there, like every single one of your worldly possessions hadn't just gone up in smoke, but you hear them as if they're standing right in front of you.

"i wouldn't do this if there were any other options, simon."

"there are plenty of other options, just stick 'em in a hotel for god's sake."

"there's no hotels close enough to base – it'll only be temporary, 'till we can find 'em somewhere else."

"fuckin' hell, why cant they go with one of the others?"

"soap and gaz are already flatmates, you live alone and you're the closest to base. this is the only option that makes sense."

"i'm not fuckin' happy about this, price."

their profiles are momentarily illuminated by the blue lights from the fire engine parked nearby, allowing you for a second to see the withering glare ghost is sending your way, and all of a sudden the last couple hours of emotional distress is crashing down on you; his obvious distaste for you combined with the toll of watching your house literally burning down was too much for you all at once. you could feel the tears start to spill over again, but you can’t find the strength to stop them and just bring the shock blanket closer to your face. you’d lost everything, and even now he couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of compassion for you? why can’t he care for you like he does the others? like you do for him?

as your watery gaze drops to the soot and ash covering your pyjamas, a voice sounds from beside you, the opposite direction from price and ghost. you don’t even realise you’re hyperventilating until they lay a hand on your shoulder and rub soothing circles into your back.

“hey– hey, it’s okay,” it’s gaz, you notice in the back of your mind, sitting on the curb next to you. you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world around you, and gaz brings you closer into his embrace. “you’ll be alright, we’ll get everything sorted, yeah?”

"i– i don't– i can't–" you try to speak, but you can't seem to form a coherent sentence through your sobbing.

"it's alright, just breathe for me." gaz hugs you tighter again, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he consoles you. for a few minutes you stay like that, your breathing eventuslly returning to normal and the tears slowing to a stop.

price and ghost are still arguing, but you can't hear what they're saying anymore; probably for the best, if you had to listen to ghost complain about you for one more second you might really have a breakdown.

soap's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, "managed to find this, thought ya' might want it." you look up to find him crouching in front of you and holding out a slightly singed photo, a weak smile on his face. "frame's broken, but the picture's still mostly fine."

you take it from him, fingers grasping the card gently as you turn it around to look at the picture. it's from a few years ago, you and your friends from your previous unit, smiling into the camera as if you had no worries at all. staring at the ghosts of your friends starts you crying again, clutching the photo to your chest and leaning back into gaz's shoulder. if anything could've survived the blaze, you're grateful it was this. gaz rubs your arm sofly, whispering comforting words to you again.

you hear another set of footsteps approach and look up again to see price now standing in front of you as well. it's not exactly surprising, but ghost is nowhere to be seen.

"ambulance is here," price says, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet when you take it. "i'll follow behind to the hospital, one of you two take their car to simon's."

you nod and retrieve your car keys from your jacket pocket, thankful you'd had the mind to grab it on your way out in your frantic state.

"I've got a bag in the boot, it's got some clothes in it." you mutter, handing the keys to soap, who smiles and gives you a pat on the shoulder.

"no bother, i'll grab it for ya." he says, and jogs off to where your car was parked, thankfully untouched out of reach of the fire. he returns not a minute layer carrying your duffle of emergency supplies, something you never thought would actually come in handy.

before you know it you're waving gaz and soap goodbye, the paramedics are guiding you to the back of the ambulance, and you're leaving what remains of your old home in the rear-view mirror.

✹✹✹

you hated hospitals. it was a fact, and it had been that way since you were a child, everything about them just made your skin crawl. perhaps you inherited the feeling from your mother; she always managed to bring up her distaste for the place whenever the topic arose. or, maybe you only hated them because they scared you.

either way, the relief you felt as you stepped out of the front door into the car park with price trailing behind you was palpable. he falls into step next to you as the two of you make your way over to where he parked, his keys jingling as he fishes them from his pocket.

"we're puttin' you up with simon for the time being, 'till we can get you somewhere else." his words make you wince; you already knew he was going to say that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from bubbling up in your chest.

"i heard." a beat of silence passes before you continue. "how long will that take?" you ask, climbing into the passenger seat and dropping your bag at your feet as price settles into the driver's side.

"i wouldn't get your hopes up. might be quicker to wait for 'em to rebuild your old place." he flashes you a smile, but you can't find it in yourself to return the gesture.

"right."

neither of you say another word as he starts the engine and pulls out of the car park. you turn to look out the window, watching the world go by, the quiet rambling of the radio serving as white noise in the background. it's the early hours of the morning now, the sun would be up in a few hours and you'd have to go back to work already – price did say you could have the day off, but honestly the last thing you wanted was to sit around all day with nothing to do but overthink.

after nearly ten minutes of trying to ignore it, the worry playing at your mind becomes too much to keep to yourself.

"you know he hates me, right?" you utter, half expecting price to ignore your question all together.

he clicks his tongue. "he doesn't hate you," price replies, and his voice sounds reassuring but it doesn't bring you much comfort.

"okay, well, he doesn't like me either." you turn your head to look at him, raising your brows. rolling to a stop at a red light, he meets your eyes and huffs.

"alright, he can be difficult–"

"really?"

"–but i promise you, he doesn't hate you." he says. you give him a disbelieving look, and he sighs, looking back to the road as the light turns green. "give him a chance, alright?"

"is he gonna give me a chance?"

"he will." price says firmly, sparing you a look as he drives down the quiet road. "and if he doesn't, you'll knock some sense into him, eh?"

"sure…" you mutter, looking back out the window and falling back into silence. its only a few minutes until he's pulling over to the side of the road, outside the house number you know to be ghost's.

"sting," price calls out, stopping you as you reach for the door handle, "he'll come around, alright?"

"it's been a year, cap. i don't think he will." you reply, and before he can say anything else you open the door and step out into the night air, grabbing your bag from your feet before closing the door again. you give price a half-hearted wave as he pulls away again, before turning around and gazing up at your – temporary – new home.

it was nice, all things considered; a standard terrace on the end of the row, but the size has you wondering if there was even room for you to stay here. though it's not as if you have a choice. all the lights were off, which had you hopeful that you wouldn't run into ghost just yet.

you drag yourself to the front door, your eyes stinging from the effort of keeping them open, and twist the handle as quietly as possible, closing it behind you and cringing at the clunk it makes. thankfully ghost didn't hate you enough to lock you out for the night, something you actually wouldn't put past him considering how he feels about you.

there's a small side table in the entryway that catches your attention. on top of it sits your car keys – you make a mental note to thank soap in the morning – a new key, and a note. you pick up the paper, using the torch from your phone to examine the scratchy handwriting.

living room's yours. lock the door. – s

it's more than you expected from him. you sigh to yourself and pick up the other key, locking the door and shuffling into the small living room. the pull-out bed is made up for you, albeit quite messily, and you waste no time in dropping your stuff and laying your head down on the lumpy pillow.

with any luck, this arrangement wouldn't last long, but in the meantime you got the feeling you were in for a bumpy ride.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes #praying that hes not ooc

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dried-mushroom · 6 months ago

Text

My Queen

Aemond 'one-eyed' Targaryen x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, incest (uncle & niece), oral sex (m receiving), public handjob, fingering, missionary sex, porn with plot, short slow burn, Aemond is head over heels for you, soft! Aemond

Enjoy!!!!!

You were the firstborn daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Harwin Strong. No stark resemblance to the knight as do your siblings, as you were the only one born with silver Targaryen hair. This made you stand out compared to your brothers, as their heritage was a common topic for gossip, and they did not have a single feature from Ser Laenor, your mother's betrothed. You were still considered a true Targaryen and not a bastard child nonetheless.

It had been years since your family had been back to Kings landing, years since you'd seen your uncles, Aegon and Aemond. You had less than fond memories of the older prince as a teen, he was always trying to get you alone and mentioning how he could satisfy you better than any other lord or knight. You often ignored his words but sometimes he was just too vile to bare.

His brother on the other hand intrigued you. He was much quieter than Aegon, but he spoke to you often. Usually, it was only small talk when you ran into the prince. You honestly didn't mind, as you may have developed a liking for the younger prince. What you weren't expecting was he already wanted you for himself.

The clearest memories between you and Aemond were when your brothers and your uncle decided to tease him about his lack of claiming a dragon. You knew how cruel Jace and Luke could be, as they enjoyed making your life harder so to speak. You lectured them both when you found out what they did to Aemond and searched for the young prince.

When you found him perched against an old oak tree, with his head in his hands, you sat next to him. As he turned to face you, you could see how red and raw his eyes were, obviously from crying. You tried to apologize for your brother's behaviour but he didn't want your pity, instead, he told you not to worry, and that he would make sure he gained a dragon. He didn't enjoy being harsh towards you and apologized later that day by gifting you a book with a note inside.

Another less fond memory of your prince was the night of Lady Laena's funeral. The entire day had an aura of gloom, and you could tell the tension was tightening between your family and Aemond's. Rhaenyra and Alicent were clawing at each other's throats every time they were close and the rumour that your mother had birthed four bastards was certainly a rumour that the HighTowers were eager to entertain, just so that your mother was seen as an untrustworthily whore.

Yet you remained close to Aemond, usually strolling around the grounds of the castle together or watching him train to duel with his brother and Ser Criston. But that dreadful night something changed, that night he finally got one of the two things he always wanted; to claim a dragon. Vhagar, Laena's dragon was sleeping peacefully until Aemond woke her, and through his bravery and her compliance, He successfully bonded with her by commanding her to calm herself and serve him in High Valyrian.

He quickly got the hang of it and rides the dragon around High Tide before landing. Vhagar was the biggest dragon in Westeros and the most powerful of any dragons the Targaryen's had. Whilst his little flying escapade, Laena's daughters noticed his absence and could hear the familiar roar coming from their mother's dragon, so they rushed over to Jace and Luke to help them find who had stolen the dragon, which was meant for the eldest Velarylon girl, Rhaena.

You were resting against a cold stone wall, seemingly fazed, when your younger brothers and cousins rushed up to you and told you about your uncle. You suddenly recalled hearing the familiar noise of the dragon and Aemond had excused himself from you as he 'felt ill' earlier. You trailed behind the four as they went to inside the castle searching for Aemond. When they spotted the young prince, they all started arguing over who had a claim to the dragon. You stayed behind them, not entirely wanting to be there.

Without a second thought, Rhaena hit Aemond for an insult he had said to her about her mother, but the latter was stronger and threw her to the ground. Your brothers quickly joined in the fight. Jace pushed Aemond to the ground and he broke Luke's nose somehow. You felt conflicted, about who to defend; either your brothers or the boy you've liked for what seemingly felt like eons.

You tried to get in between Luke and Aemond to break them up. Aemond wasn't thinking straight and accidentally hit you with a rock he had in his hand, to use on Luke. As soon as he realised what he did he dropped the rock and started apologising profusely, but Jace thought it was the perfect time to get revenge on the prince for hurting his big sister and stealing their cousin's dragon, as he threw sand into the boy's eyes and Luke slashed the boy in the right eye, blinding him.

You quickly snapped out of your pain haze and quickly rushed over to the wailing boy, whose face was now covered in blood. You couldn't believe what your brothers had done. Everything became a blur after that moment, you remember blood soaking your light-coloured dress and guiding Aemond through the castle to his mother. Him clutching you tightly, still muttering apologies to you, your relatives spewing their disgust at you for aiding the prince.

The last time you and the prince spent time was the most memorable. It was the day your mother remarried to her uncle, Daemon. You, Jace, and Luke were told by your mother that you all would be leaving for dragonstone and to say your goodbyes, the handmaidens would pack your belongings but be ready to leave King's landing before noon. This sudden news upset you heavily as you would be separated from Aemond and your friends for God knows how long. You wandered around the castle soaking in each and every detail as if it were the last. You made your way to Aemond's chambers, worried about his reaction to your leaving.

The both of you got incredibly closer ever since that fight, seemingly you both were joined at the hip, always sharing longing glances that teetered on the border of platonic. Once you reached the door and knocked, the familiar face of your blonde prince greeted you, eagerly letting you inside his room. You picked at your cuticles, not wanting to share the news with Aemond. He noticed the disdain on your face, and spoke "What's wrong, Princess Y/N?" you sighed, "Mother wants me and my brothers to travel to dragon stone for some time, she told us to say our goodbyes and to be ready to leave at midday. I'm so sorry." His smile faulted, as he took in your words.

He felt almost ill, his beloved was leaving so abruptly, he didn't know what to say, as he knew he couldn't sway Rhaenyra. Without a thought, he closed the gap between you both, slowly pressing his lips to yours, in a tender kiss. He gripped the fabric of your dress, either in a plea to hold you even closer or to keep you with him even longer. You couldn't help but feel something hard pressing into your thigh, your cheeks were ablaze when you realised what that something was.

You broke the kiss, knowing you didn't have much time left. He must have realised and quickly retrieved something from one of his drawers. It was a small bracelet, decorated in emeralds, the Hightower colour. You couldn't help but smile a little as he slipped it around your wrist. You gave him one last peck before saying the last words you'd say to him for the next six years. "Please write to me, or maybe even visit, I won't forget you, I beg you to do the same, goodbye my prince." "I will my princess, don't doubt it. Goodbye y/n." You left his chambers, not realising his brother was waiting outside his door.

Aegon grabbed your arm tightly and whispered in your ear. "You're leaving? fuck sake, why can't Rhaenyra just send the twats you call brothers away, she really wants to torture me. " You tried wiggling out of his harsh grip, but he wouldn't let go, "You know, I get so fucking hard when you cross my mind, I can't stop thinking about you swollen with my seed, being my little whore and no one el-" Aegon's perverted wishes were quickly diminished as your younger brother called out your name from the entrance of the corridor. Aegon released your arm but said one last thing, "Goodbye my betrothed." You knew that was a sick joke, Aemond had already told you that Aegon and Helena were already betrothed. He just really wanted to fuck with you. You muttered a goodbye with gritted teeth and rushed towards your brother and out of the castle.

Six Years Later:

Your mother and Daemon had decided that it would be best to visit Kings Landing once again, for your ill grandsire and to reaffirm Jace as the heir to the driftwood throne. You wouldn't mind being back at King's landing once again, this time as an 18-year-old woman, you were soon destined to be betrothed to some lord or knight. Another reason would be to see familar faces, such as Helaena, both of you were close. The Velayron girls you missed as well, as they were always sweet to you.

The two men you were dreading to see were Aegon and Aemond. Aegon for the most obvious reasons, he is a fucking pervert. As for Aemond, he in a way broke your heart. He promised to write to you but never acted on that promise, you had written three letters to the prince but he never wrote back. All those years, not one fucking word to you.

At first, you were deeply hurt but you came to understand that you could not let such a foolish thing belittle you as you were to be heir to the iron throne once your mother became Queen, you could not be seen as weak. You begged your mother to let you ride dragon back to the castle but she insisted to take a carriage, to your disappointment. Later that morning you all set off.

When the sight of the familiar castle came into your vision, you became an internal puddle of emotions, relief for finally being back home, happiness for finally being able to reunite with old friends and uneasiness for seeing the boy you loved, a man. Once the carriage abruptly stopped, you all stepped out and you let out a sharp exhale as all the Targaryen decorations that you remembered had been replaced by religious symbols.

Your stepfather made a few comments about Queen Alicent and her father was behind that, humourous but wasn't appropriate. You all were greeted and You, Jace and Luke were allowed to wander the grounds for a while. You found yourself walking near where the duelling practice was taking place and heard the smooth familiar voice belonging to Aemond.

"Nephews, You've come to train?"

You couldn't help but sigh gently when you saw how attractive Aemond had become. His hair was twice as long (more to pull on), and he was more toned and adorned with a black eye patch from the accident between him and your brother. As you walked closer to Aemond and ser Criston, you took in how skilful Aemond had become with a sword.

You joined your brothers and when Aemond saw you for the first time in years he almost forgot what he was even doing. That's how mesmerizing you are to him. Once he managed to make the Knight yield he strode towards you three. Aemond hadn't seen you in six years and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, how your beautiful blonde hair framed your face, how your eyes were just as vibrant as they were and he couldn't help but let his eyes linger over your figure in your black & red dress, how he could get a glimpse of your cleavage as he towered over you.

"My niece, how I have missed you."

His tone was sultry and he gave your hand a quick kiss before giving your brothers a nasty look.

"Jace. Luke. Can you give me and your sister a moment alone?"

They raised their eyebrows but walked away leaving the both of you alone. He sighed before grabbing both of your hands into his.

"My dear y/n, Before you speak, listen to me. I never wanted to break that promise I made to you all those years ago. Alas, my mother had other thoughts, she forbade me from any contact with you."

"But-But why? I never did anything to offend her?"

He knew how you felt, his mother was a confusing bitch. Wanting to place Aegon, a drunk who regularly commits infidelity, as King on the iron throne. Instead, he believed he himself should have a claim to the throne. He was the one who studied history and philosophy. He was the one who trained with a sword. Oh, what he would truly do to be King and have you by his side as his Queen.

"Her reasoning seemed uncouth, as it was since you were the daughter of Rhaenyra and bare no resemblance to Ser Laenor. My mother decided that you would be unfit for me. But I couldn't go one day all those years without a thought of you trickling into my mind. Hm, you're still wearing that?"

You looked down at your wrist and couldn't help it as the blush rose to your cheeks at his words, it was the gift he left you on your last day spent together, he felt an odd sense of pride knowing you still cherished that simple bracelet. He pulled you into a tight embrace with your hands still in his grip. His large arms wrapped around you almost lovingly, and he rested his head upon yours. He murmured into your hair but before you could ask what he had said you both were interrupted by a sharp feminine voice.

"Aemond! come here. We need to talk"

And with that, Aemond sighed before releasing you to follow his cunt of a mother. You turned around to find Daemon smirking at you and laughing as he walked away, and you could tell that today would be interesting, to say the least.

Once the clock struck midday, most of everyone had made their way to the throne room to start their petitions for the heir to drift mark. Your grandsire was too sick to sit on the throne so Otto and Alicent were the ones listening. You followed your family and stood with your younger brothers. Once Vaemond, your technical uncle had proposed he be the heir to the driftwood throne which had made your entire family worry as you all knew that the Hightowers were going to do anything in their power to weaken your family. But you couldn't help but smile when you noticed how Aemond was looking at you from across the room.

When it was finally time for Rhaenyra to speak for your brother and as soon as she started the doors opened to the throne. You all turned and saw your grandfather, struggling to walk down the stairs to his place on the throne. Daemon helped his brother onto the iron throne before letting him speak. The king had reaffirmed your brother's place on the driftwood throne and you were extremely happy for him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him how happy you were for him. You couldn't see how Aemond balled his hands into tight fists of jealousy, he didn't enjoy seeing you touching any other males, nonetheless, the boy who took his eye when they were younger.

After that gruesome turn of events, you were expected to go to a family dinner, your family and the Hightowers together how could that possibly go wrong? That evening you had walked into the dining room, lit up by numerous glowing candles. You noticed how almost everyone had been seated and there was an empty chair beside Aemond. Once you sat down, you saw how he looked at you, abashedly adoringly. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"I can't wait for tonight, I have something special planned for you. I know you'll like it."

You shivered as his warm breath trickled down your neck. You both shot back up once you heard Alicent cough loudly. You both noticed how Luke was staring almost disgustedly at the scene in front of him, but Aemond just smirked at him knowingly. In the middle of Alicunt saying grace, you felt a warm hand on your skirts. Your eyes flicked open to meet Aemond's closed ones, he seemed awfully proud of himself. What he wasn't expecting was to feel your hand gently brush against his growing erection. You watched how his breath hitched as his mother finished saying grace. As each family member conversed with one another you were trying not to concentrate on the hand trailing up your inner thigh to your arousal.

"So y/n have you been betrothed yet? I have just never seen you with a suitor yet."

Helaena's words broke you out of your haze, you stumbled around your words.

"Uh, not yet haven't. I feel as if men just are not so attracted to me."

You didn't notice Aemond's slight disappointment at your words, as you knew how much he adored you, inside and out.

"Well I'm sure you'll find someone soon, don't worry marriage isn't so appealing as it seems"

The subtle insult to Aegon made you laugh, a sound Aemond treasured. He truly enjoyed seeing you happy, he also wanted to see the noises of pleasure you'd make, squirming on his cock. He took his middle finger and trailed it over your underwear, just over your wet slit. You let out a quiet mewl but contained yourself quickly as you remembered where you were, you glared at Aemond but found him already looking at you. As food was brought out one plate by one, you took the opportunity to seek a small sliver of revenge. When a servant placed a whole roasted pig in front of the both of you, bad taste in your opinion. You popped open Aemond's pants and slipped your hand inside and into his undergarments to pull out his already leaking cock. You both were concealed by the meal in front of you and the large white tablecloth.

You lazily stroked his cock, every so often you'd spread the pre-cum gathered on his tip, making him grip your thigh hard in desperation. He honestly didn't think you'd do this to him, he only had imagined you doing such things to him in his more...personal fantasies. What he was planning to do under the table would have to wait but he'd repay you back generously. After some looming stares, your grandfather spoke for one last thing before he passed, to have one evening with his family with their grievances put aside. Your mother had commended Alicent on her loyalty to her father and her devotion to her husband and Alicent had returned her graciousness, saying she would make a fine queen. Everyone drank from their cup. You kept your pace while everyone seemed finally happy to be in each other's presence, everyone was smiling and laughing with one another, unknowingly witnessing you jerk off your uncle under the table.

Aemond knew he wasn't going to last long as you were so good for him. He loved how you were pleasuring him, and he honestly loved how no one even noticed the debauched action you both were doing. You stroked him one more time before he let out an extremely loud groan and he came, warm spurts all over your hand. You sighed internally and meet the disturbed faces of your family. They all knew what you had just done to Aemond and how Aemond fully enjoyed it. Without a second thought he put himself away, dragged you out of your chair and out of the room. The entire room was silent until Aegon laughed loudly and congratulated his brother earning multiple stares of disapproval.

You and Aemond ran out out of earshot and leant against the cold wall of a stairwell, breathless. You couldn't help but laugh about the situation you both put yourselves in, rightfully you both just scarred your entire family and knew the lectures you were bound to receive the next day. The first one to speak was Aemond, stumbling around, trying to figure what he would say until what he had spend all day planning popped into his head.

"Thank you my princess. I truly enjoyed that, shall I repay the favor?"

"What are you offering my prince?"

Aemond took your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. He met your soft gaze before leading you up the stairs into his chambers. When he opened the door, you saw a simple (choice of flower) on the edge of the bed next to a small wrapping of parchment paper. You wondered how in all of kings landing how he knew your favourite flower. He guided you towards the bed and sat down, you subconsciously played with the petals of the flower now in your lap. Aemond places the small wrapped into your hand,

"Open it, I know you'll like it."

You took Aemond's words and carefully unwrapped the gift. You couldn't believe it, it was a beautiful ring, gold with small emeralds engraved on the sides.

"My dear y/n, Will you take me? be my Queen?"

You nodded eagerly as you pressed your lips to his.

"Of course my King."

He pulled you into his lap, his hands wrapped around you deliciously. You couldn't help but moan as he slid his tongue into your mouth. He had a tight grip on your skirts, pulling you closer to the hardness in his pants. He broke the kiss to trial small bites over your neck, leaving a purple trail in his wake. He couldn't help himself but grind you down on his lap, trying to get as much friction as he could. You were more than happy to reprociate. He mumbled curses under his breath as he layed you down onto the soft sheets, taking in your debauched beauty. He slowly unzipped your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you only in a pair of undergarments. He could feel his cock twitch just looking at you, and he was on his knees infront of you, and lazily stroked himself through his trousers, tempting himself.

He quickly made work of his vest and the white shirt underneath. He was about to get rid of his pants but before he could even reach the button, he felt your mouth against his bulge, his hips bucked against you at the warm feeling. He squeezed his eyes shut as you pulled out his cock once again and this time wrapped your mouth around his tip. He moaned in ecstasy at foreign feeling, he couldn't help but thrust into your mouth, trying to chase more. You braced both your hands onto his thighs as you took more of his dick. He absolutely loved you like this; you were so beautiful it hurt. You could tell by his stuttering hips that it wouldn't be long until he came, you gave him one more long lick up his shaft and pulled his weeping cock out of your mouth. You could see the slight disappointment on his face but you reassured him.

"I want you to cum in me."

He groaned when he heard those debauched words leave your pretty mouth. He couldn't wait to ruin you. You laid back down, and he laid himself above you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He slowly rubbed the tip of his cock languidly over your glistening slit, teasingly.

You whimpered, already too stimulated for his teasing, "please"

"Please what? You need to use your words."

"Please. I need you to fuck me."

Without a second thought, he slowly pushed his hips forward, entering you, you let out a gasp at the feeling of absolute fullness. Aemond let out a shaky breath, finally getting to feel you after longing for you for years. Aemond begun to thrust his hips quickly, You arched your back, as lewd sounds erupted from your mouth and cunt as the pleasure increased.

Groans escaped Aemond as he could feel your cunt squeezing him so tight, his platinum locks framed your face as he continued his ministrations. You could feel the tip of his cock bumping your cervix with every thrust, he tantalizingly dragged his cock out and in, pressing deeper and Aemond let one of his hands wander to your clit, fumbling the bundle of nerves in delicate circles

Aemond ducked his head between your tits, licking the mounds and swirling around your bouncing nipples. They grew more sensitive. He pinched one nipple and took the other in his toothy mouth, nibbling and sucking at your flesh.

"Oh fuck Aem, I think I'm going to cum."

Aemond practically whimpered against you, a beautiful sound, he broke away from your chest,

"Cum on my cock, my Queen."

The combination of the abuse on your pussy and tits, that tight coil in your stomach finally fucking snapped and you gushed, all over Aemond's cock and naval. It didn't take a minute more for Aemond to fill you up with his seed, you felt the warm spurts of his cum inside you and couldn't describe the feeling you felt, was it adoration? Was it love? you couldn't tell as he slipped out of you, leaving your pussy clenching at nothing and he laid beside you. You rested your head on his chest and gazed up into his eye, he whispered lovingly;

"I cannot wait until we are married on Dragonstone and you swell with our children."

You let yourself fall asleep unaware of the arguments that you and Aemond will deal with in the morrow.

The end

This was a draft from last year but since Hotd season 2 will be released I knew I NEEDED to post this. Hope y'all like it.

#house of the dragon #i am down bad #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra my beloved #hotd #aemond one eye #daemon targeryan #hotd season 2

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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 year ago

Text

Friday Night Entertainment (+18)

Time written- 11:05 p.m

Jason Todd/fem!reader smut

“C’mon pretty girl, jus’ like that.”

His rich, gravely voice always provided the proper encouragement, surging with pure arousal as his broad hands settled along your hips. His gaze remained ever so mesmerized with your beautiful, bouncing body, the loud contact of your thighs against his, amplified by your glistening juices after properly fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you.

You were a sight to the man slumped back against the cushions of his couch. Sweat dampened curls merely obscuring his vision of your lust dappled skin, love bites crowding your flush skin like an exotic choker.

Crescent moons along your hips from his hands alone, not to get him started with various hand prints. The view of those gorgeous, bouncing tits made it harder for Jason to resist, suckling a breast into his mouth as your lingering strength wavered, resorting you to merely rocking against his lap.

You were tired, well fucked out since the second he pulled you on top of the couch. The man couldn’t have bothered less to get his own pants off, merely unbuckling himself with a quick hand before smacking the tip of his fat, heavy cock against your quivering cunt.

At the start, the living room was filled with a chorus of loud moans, followed by a seemingly endless Clink! Clink! Clink! of his belt buckle with every thrust into your perfect pussy.

Now, your chest flattened against his, your lungs gasping for warm air as Jason’s hand reached down your body, guiding his stiff, soaked cock from your hole to rub against your folds. The groove of his tip nearly teasing your throbbing clit with each intentional rock of his hips.

“I know, baby. Oh, I know,” he cooes against your quivering lips before kissing them, noses brushing against one another while spending a second taking your bottom lip in between his teeth.

Your muscles ached for rest, trembling with nearly every few seconds after finishing three times, to Jason’s delight. How he was able to hold out so long was incredible, watching you writhe through thick lashes as you completely soak through the fabric of his boxers and jeans, but he knew he wasn’t going to last forever.

On a good night, he would’ve last just a bit longer, but now, he was tempted enough to almost go easy on you.

“Just one more,” Jason mutters, making the effort to maintain your gaze with a slight head tilt. “Come on, repeat after me. Just one more.”

“Just—“

You failed on the spot with a quivering cry, hips nearly jolting at his unsuspecting fingers pressed against your abused nub, purposely rolling the pearl along the calloused pad of his thumb before casually raising it to his lips, brushing off your sweet essence along his tongue.

“I’m waiting.” He states. What a bastard.

“Just one more!” You immediately whine out, your overstimulated embers growing a new, small hungry frame only he could appease and satisfy.

“Fuck, Jason. Just- just one more… please.”

Oh, you just had to throw in a please.

“That’s my girl,” Jason smirks, shifting his thighs slightly before reinforcing his hold on your hips, the sounds of wet skin resounding against each other growing considerably loud in seconds, fucking into you with a newfound, vigorous staccato.

#don’t mind me #just seeing if I can do Jason stuff #Jason Todd #jason todd x you #Jason Todd smut #Jason Todd x reader smut #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #fr don’t mind me #idk what I’m doing either #didn’t turn out as good as I hoped but oh weell

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heartfullofleeches · 7 months ago

Note

Maybe a better idea..... Farmer Flemish giant rabbit Yan catches Foxboy reader, but gives reader the choice that if he becomes the yans malewife he can live.

(That was the plan to some extent in the long run, but the chase is fun, no? Regardless, here's a blurb of the two lovebirds)

Male Flemish Rabbit Yan + Foxboy Reader

Warnings: Imprisonment, kidnapping. Reader's pronouns are not mentioned, but they are thought of as male. The term Wife is used.

That bastard....

"Let me out! Let. Me. Out!"

Rearing your legs as far back as the tight space would grant, your knees bump into your chest as you kick out. Metal grates dig at your arms with every slight turn and jostle of your body. Dirt and moulted feathers mat your fur, yet there isn't any poultry in sight for you to feast and console yourself upon.

Damn it... You knew it was too good to be true. That farmer was a fool, but a watchful and cautious one at that. He'd never leave the door to his pens open unless he was sick or injured. Maybe part of you had prayed that he was. Wrong as it may be to wish ill on someone making a living for himself, you were just trying to survive too.

"Let me out.... please.." Your voice wavers as the pains of hunger and stress exhaust what little strength you have left. Your balled fists slap pathetically against the metal cages as tears well in your eyes, daring to spill. You won't let them. You won't let him win.

"I said...GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

The gravel outside your wooden prison shifts.

"In due time, Love. We've got a deal to make first."

Dread consumes the emptiness in your stomach, pinning your limbs to the dirt covered floor as he at sinks to his knees. Your knees curl into your chest once more, body and mind subconsciously making yourself smaller as his larger figure draws into view - blocking your sight of the forest beyond his land. Your home. You don't even realize your crying till his fingers brush the wetness from your cheek. You have half a mind to bite them off as they get stuck between the grates.

You snarl- "If you wanted me gone you could've asked..."

The farmer presses a strong hand to his mouth, suppressing a laugh. "If I wanted ya gone, I would'a taken the sheriff's generous offer of a shotgun the last time I had him over. You know how he is about outsiders."

The bite in your stare remains - still, your legs quiver at the mention. "You aren't going to turn me over to him, are you?

He can't. The farmer is lenient towards your crimes, but that man.. That rabbit... He'll have you hanging from the town hall by nightfall.

"Please... I'll...I'll do anything...I'll work off my debt day and night, I-"

"Sweetheart...." The farmer rest a hand on the steel wall of the coop, gently petting its bars as he would your fuzzy little head once you agreed to be his. "It's okay. Nobody's gonna hurt you or make you do any hard labor."

"Then-" Your cracked tongue wets your splitting lips. "What do you want from me?"

The farmer cranes his head, meeting you eye to eye. The bags beneath his eyes seemed heavier than usual. How long had been out here waiting for you to return?"

"Cute little fox like yourself shouldn't be out here scrounging around for scraps or the occasional unattended hen. You should have a roof over your head, a comfy bed, all the food you could ever want."

What's he going on about? Another trap?... "If I'm not going to work for it... How does this deal benefit you?"

"I want you to be my wife."

"Wha?!- Ouch!-" Your head shoots up, ramming into the low hanging support beams. "Are you crazy?"

The farmer lets a chuckle slip. "Heh, I'd have to have lost my mind not falling for ya. Think about it this way, Sweetheart. You come home with me and I fill that belly of yours full of food. Or I call up the sheriff and he fills it with lead. Your choice."

Your howling stomach betrays any fight you have remaining. You don't have many options in this scenario. Push come to shove, you could possibly make your escape in the dead of night when he least expects it - taking as many of his hens as your arms could carry.

"Okay... I'll.. be your wife."

"Smart fox." The farmer stands - rounding the corner to the front of the henhouse. He lifts the wooden board that had fallen into place as you crawling inside hours ago. Your legs are too cramped and spent from all that kicking to fight him as he pulls you out by your tail and into his well built arms. The farmer presses his nose to your face, nuzzling your cheek as he walks off towards his home - carrying you bridal style.

"Welcome home, Hun."

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere hybrid #yandere drabble #yandere farmer #yandere male #tw yandere #male reader

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howdoesagrapewrites · 11 months ago

Text

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐈𝐕

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, sexual content, no actual smut, again, Daemon is violent

Taglist: @faesspace

>Jacaerys had come to terms with his status as a bastard, even though it was never to be said out loud

>Laenor was still his father, even if not biologically, he was the men he called "dada" with his first words, and it would remain that way for the rest of his life

>This made him closer to you, your situation was different, as everybody knew you were a bastard, and you were not to inherit anything

>He felt like he had to prove people wrong about him, so he overexerted himself. There was little you could do to stop him, so you contented with staying by his side in the library, late at night, falling asleep to his voice practicing high valyrian

>In these nights, you likely had little Aegon or Viserys on your lap, because they'd cry until they were put to sleep only by your or their mother

>Jacaerys would revel in this image, you peacefully asleep, holding babes, your silver hair caressing your cheeks

>He could sometimes allow himself to imagine what if the children you were holding were his, if you could be his queen. If he could kiss you and rut against you, if he could suck your nipples until milk would come out

>But he was always quick to dismiss these ideas, you were forbidden fruit, and the last thing a bastard king needs, is a bastard queen. His mother had gone through hell and back to uphold his claim to the iron throne, and he would not disappoint her, no matter how desperately he needed you

>And even though, he was ashamed to admit it, he was scared of his step-father. There was one specific memory he would always go back to

>He was a young man, maybe a little older than you. And he had come to Dragonstone while you were in King's Landing with Rhaenyra. He had come bearing expensive gifts and displaying a beautiful crimson doublet with embroidery details in gold and plum

>He had spoken flowery promises of old alliances of his house with the conqueror, and Daemon's face was reflecting his achingly strong boredom and weariness, demanding him he speak whatever idiotic trade he had in mind. That's when the lord said he'd be "most delighted" to present himself as a suitor for lady Y/N. Daemon didn't respond, he let the awkward silence seat, he let him marinate in anxiety. He then took his dark sister and cut the poor boy's head off. He told his guard he'd be spared if he returned to tell the tale, that no one should try to approach his firstborn daughter.

>"Nobody likes a peeping Tom" he shouted to Jacaerys, who was hidden watching the scene

>He still sometimes thinks of how easily his head fell off his neck, how quickly it did

>So he knew Y/N couldn't be his, not now not ever. But he still hated to know there was one person that Daemon could not scare off

>Jacaerys felt lucky he could see your metamorphosis from a girl to a maiden in a first row seat, but this change meant that one day you'd leave, and he'd have to get a wife, a proper wife for a king

>But that person that was not scared of Daemon, also didn't have that problem. He was talking about Daeron Targaryen

>Despite the collective best efforts of the Velaryon brothers, you still talked to Daeron regularly, fortunately, not as much now that he was in Oldtown, but still too much for their liking

>Lucerys did not realize the puppy crush he had on you, thinking he just saw you as his older sister, but he was on board with anything that meant sabotaging your possible paramours

>So they were incredibly frustrated when they all had to travel to King's Landing, and Daeron was going to be there

>Lucerys used Daeron's presence to distract himself from the fact that his grandsire could die, and that that was the real reason why they were there, for him to inherit Driftmark

>This was the first time in years you'd actually spend time with Aemond, as you would avoid him everytime you visited

>Dagahrion was too large for the dragon pit, so he stays in a cave in Aegon's hill

>Alicent ran to hug you, Rhaenyra stood there, silently judging her

>When you went to see your uncle Viserys, it was heartbreaking, he called for you, and you kneeled at the edge of his face, so he could see you clearly. It took him some time to recognize you

>"Y/N... She's nothing but an infant, I know she must be playing, but I'd like to see her"

>You patiently explained, until he could remember you, you saw a lonely tear when the realization of your age, and the pass of time had hit him

>You got into an argument with your father when he accused Alicent

>"Can't you see she just wants to have your trust to whore you out to his depraved sons?!"

>"Are you one to talk about depravity, father?!" You shouted, offended and angry at him

>"I am one to talk because I know exactly what goes through the heads of men like that, and I know exactly the type of woman that bitch is"

>"What are you scared of? That someone might treat me like you did my mother?!" You are a dragon, and you spit fire. Your father goes quiet, not out of shame, but out of astonishment. He had waited so much time to see himself in you, he thought that your lack of ill intentions was what made you perfect, but it was not. Daemon would enjoy seeing more of this, after all, it would be laughable if an innocent, irreproachable maiden rode a dragon like yours

>Daemon smiled at you and left the room, leaving puzzled and embarrassed at your words

>Rhaenys and the twins were second to greet you, your sisters had missed you so dearly

>They excitedly spoke of all that happened, and how much they missed being with you, you spent an hour in the gardens before you were interrupted, to go to Lucerys' hearing

>After catching up, Rhaenys left you to have "girl time" with them, they hugged you once again, and you could swear Rhaena left a kiss on your collarbone, and Baela's hands wondered a little too low from your back to your tailbone

>The announcement of the marriages had complicated reactions, you could see it, but you were glad the family would remain together, strong

>You hugged Lucerys when Vaemond yelled for all the realm to hear of his accusations, and you saw your father smiling at you and Rhaenyra once he had sliced Vaemond Velaryon in half

>During dinner, you sat between Jacaerys and Baela

>You were pleased to share a table with your family, it had been so long since you last did

>Aegon's unsavory comments made you cringe, but you sweetly smiled when Jace and Baela defended you, Alicent and Daemon were glaring daggers at him

>When it was time for the toasts, you looked at Helaena with sadness, thinking of how miserable Aegon had made her

>You toasted to your uncle Viserys, Viserys the peaceful, who had earned his title as protector of the realm

>Aemond kept looking at you, you could not decipher his expression, what he wanted from you

>You danced with Daeron and Helaena, Rhaena then joined, with her pentoshi grace and coquettish moves, she had always loved dancing the most out of you three

>The tone completely changed once Aemond decided to toast to his nephews, the three strong boys

>Before Jace could go to punch him, you spoke up

>"Say what you mean, cousin" you taunted

>"It was but merely a compliment, don't you believe your step brothers to be strong?'

>"I believe my king ordered to cut off the tongue of everyone who would insinuate or reference the foul rumors spoken against your future queen and king"

>"That was the day I lost my eye, was it not, dear cousin?" He spoke with a voice that made you want to recoil, it was frankly disgusting

>"It was, if I were you I wouldn't want to become Aemond One Eye and no tongue" you could almost feel your father's approval as you spoke poison

>With all the noise and stress, you felt your knees start to fail, you could see Daeron was holding you

>Aemond walked towards you before being stopped by a punch from Jacaerys

>After seeing Jace come to you, you blacked out

>Of course your fainting was attributed to being a young maiden in the presence of violence, but you knew something was strange

>Though it ended in a bitter note, you knew your spell was beyond psychological, you felt sick, maybe it was the food

>The maesters said you were not fit for travel, nor boat less dragonback

>Daemon refused to leave you on King's Landing, trying to sneak your asleep body out of the castle to take you with him on top of Caraxes, but he was discovered

>When he inevitably had to go, he left you in Misarya's care, had you wake up and be unable to travel back to your family, she would be rewarded handsomely to take you to Dragonstone

>The night prince Daemon left, was the night Viserys the peaceful, first if his name, died

#dragon jaws #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere targaryens #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #daeron targaryen x reader #daeron targaryen #rhaena of pentos #Rhaena Targaryen x reader #Baela Targaryen x reader #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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bloodycassian · 8 months ago

Text

To be Wed -

Azriel x Reader x Rhysand - NSFW/MDNI 18+ 18+ 18+

Plot - Reader is caught stealing and is being punished in town square when Rhys comes in. He however has another motive, aside from being a sympathetic high lord.

THEMES/WARNINGS - knotting/different shaped Illyrian dicks. Breeding kink (kind of - not mentioned in scene.). ‘Forced’ sex due to circumstance. Voyeur. Cuckholding. Shadow play. Slight anal. Rough sex. Bondage. Public humiliation(slightly). Multiple POV. P IN V. Oral. Body worship. Possible themes of CNC?

Please do not read if you are easily triggered by any of these themes or anything remotely close - make good choices :) skip to ++++++++ for just the naughty bits.

NSFW - 18+ , MDNI

This is my Court. Rhys told himself that over, and over again. He had to be stable to rule. His people relied upon it. Azriel had even noticed his wavering anger and had suggested this. This was for his court.

This was for his pleasure, as well. He fucked into the mouth of the whore he’d hired, and tossed her aside when he couldn’t finish. He needed more, something to get his mind away from the demands of politics and what an open ended rule he had. Something to get his mind off the words Azriel had said.

“A king without heir is what every opponent wishes for. Perhaps it is time-”

Azriel had shut his mouth after Rhys’s snarl. He wouldn’t go about impregnating females just for his lineage. Just to remain in control of his Court. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he could have children. After more than a few mishandled one night stands, there’d never been a bastard born prince.

But had Azriel been right? Was it time to try for an heir? Even if it wasn’t with a mate or even a dedicated partner? He’d house the female and take good care of her, surely. His heir would need to be strong, after all. The idea entertained him for longer than he’d like, as he paid the female and dismissed her. His cock was barely hard, still covered in her saliva. He grimaced.

On his walk back to his townhome, Rhys passed the shops, hiding his face from passersby. Some still noticed him. One of them, the punisher on the corner. He tried to slide away, but the male caught him before he could disappear into the crowd.

“Ah, the high lord himself, here to make an example of those whos intentions are against his Court!” The male announced, earning applause from the surrounding crowd.

Rhys lifted his gaze, waving with a pressed smile. When he spied the male on the raised platform, then looked towards the headstalls to his side, Rhys breath was knocked from him.

His cock surged immediately. A perfect, gorgeous body lay trapped here, craning her neck to look at him. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks rosy and bitten from the cold. Her dress was not nearly long enough for this weather, and a part of Rhys roared at that. In both arousal, and outrage that this male would have her up there-

He was at the podium before he realized, rage lacing his words. “Release her. Now.” His command was final, and the round male only gave him a confused look.

He gestured to her with a paddle. “She was caught stealing-”

“You defy your high lord?” Rhys’s mind-voice broke through the thin walls of his shields, and the male flinched, startled.

She was unbound from the headstock in just a few seconds. He took her by the elbow, and brought her before the crowd. “There’s been a misunderstanding. She was merely acting as a thief, so we could be sure our loyal city guards were following their orders.” He announced, smiling brightly towards the male with the paddle. The urge to rip into his flesh was astounding.

“Thanks to our watchful security, we’re keeping Velaris safe. Thank you all!” He called, waving for a moment longer. He dared a glance to the red faced female at his side, noting her shimmering eyes and the way she stared at him. Gods those lips, the mouth half open in utter befuddlement - he tore them away into a shadow before the crowd could notice the growing bulge in his trousers.

She fell onto the floor the moment they landed in his townhome, gasping for breath and steadying herself before standing. “What- the-” She panted, pushing herself to her hands and knees.

Rhys barely resisted the urge to fold that dress over and take a long look at what he’d brought into his home. To taste what he had imagined on that stage. His hands balled into fists for a moment, his nails biting into the flesh before he helped her up.

“This is the wife you find yourself, Rhys?” Az made his presence known in the doorway, earning a low growl from Rhys.

“Wife?!” She squeaked, her voice breaking slightly. She stepped away, knocking into the couch and nearly stumbling over again.

“Forgive him. Im sorry-” Rhys glared towards Azriel, then took her hand. The shadowsinger grinned, and chewed on another piece of apple while he watched the exchange. “I- my mind is a bit lost at the moment.”

“Clearly.” She snorted. “A high lord’s wife wouldn’t be strung up in the center of town for stealing. Your type are called Rulers for that. Royals.”

Azriel laughed, loud and surprised. “Maybe you should propose, Rhys. She’ll set you straight.”

“We try not to rule in that way.” Rhys muttered. “What were you stealing?”

“Clothes.”

“Do you need clothes?” Rhys took another glance at the exquisite dress she wore, wanting to admire it at the same time as rip it off of her.

She shied, her hands going to cross over her chest. “I dont see why that’s important.” She answered.

“Because he’s looking for a surrogate, of sorts. Someone to birth his children.” Azriel answered quickly, ignoring the deathly look Rhys shot at him.

She flinched, and unfolded her arms, revealing a sliver of a knife in her hand.

“You’d be well paid. Taken care of. You and the child both, for the rest of your days.” Azriel barreled on, pushing off the wall and going to join Rhys. He bumped the male with his shoulder, and took a breath, scenting her. “And, if you’d like-” Azriel lowered his voice, stepping closer to her, despite the knife. He leaned in, closer and closer until he hovered just over her ear.

“You’d be able to have more than just him.”

Her breath hitched. The knife clattered to the floor, and Azriel’s huff of a laugh ghosted over her ear.

++++++++++++

“Is there a contract for this or is it just your word?” You asked skeptically.

Rhys reluctantly looked to Azriel, assuming the male had this planned for much longer than Rhys realized. The male snapped and a pen and paper appeared on the desk you sat adjacent to. Rhys groaned.

Azriel had had this planned for much, much longer than Rhys had given him credit for.

“This agreement will span your lifetime, and the lifetime of the potential heir should they remain loyal to the Court. Should you or the child abandon the Night Court, it will be nullified.” Azriel explained briefly.

You weighed the words, bewildered still at how quickly your day had turned around.

“You don’t have to make a choice now.” Rhys said. But if you denied them, where would that leave you? To be begging and making your money on the streets again? Stealing had been a fine trade, but now because of the High Lord’s announcement, there would be no way any other smugglers or traders would make business with you again.

“I’ll do it.”

“Thank the Mother-” Azriel blew out in a breath.

“I think you should think about this more.” Rhys argued at the same time.

“There’s nothing to think about. I bare your children and I receive a life that I’ve been struggling for since I was a child. I am ready for that life to begin.”

You didn’t care if it was reckless or stupid or outright dangerous. You’d done worse for less. Having a guaranteed way to wealth and power with bearing a High Lord’s heir was the gift you’d been waiting for over two centuries for.

You picked up the quill and signed your name. A dull throbbing erupted along your collarbone, and you pulled back the thin part of your dress to see whirling ink there. “A deal made in truth.” Rhys nodded slowly, and stood from the end of the bed. Azriel seemed to melt into the background as the high lord of the night court approached you, heat flaring from him as he neared. Was he sick? Your eyes darted to his hands, where they rolled into fists at his sides.

Slowly, a tingling in stomach grew stronger. Searing down from your collarbone, into the pit of your stomach, it grew. You rubbed your thighs together in your seat, embarrassed of the scent that you knew was rolling off of you in waves.

As soon as he was close enough to smell it, Rhys was on his knees before you. He gripped your knees and pulled them apart, sending sparks up your spine and forcing your arousal to a nearly painful peak. You panted, curling inward trying to protect yourself from the male you hardly knew.

His hand pressed against your chest, gently holding you back as his other hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers dragging over the wetness he found there. A low growl reverberated in his throat. “A deal has been struck.” He said, lifting his chin to watch you as he flicked a finger over your clit.

A jolt of hot, spiked pleasure had you rolling your hips into his hand, wishing you had some kind of power here. Some way to manipulate him just as he was doing to you. You glanced to Azriel, who’d practically made himself invisible in a corner.

Rhys caught the look, and followed your eyes. “Is that what you want?” He hummed, his finger circling you slowly, before dipping down to your entrance, prodding there lightly. You couldn’t help but nod, your throat suddenly dry.

Rhys hummed again, and withdrew his hand from your dress. He hauled you up from the chair by your elbow, and brought you to the edge of the bed where he’d been sitting. He knocked your knees apart and guided you lean over, so your chest and head were supported by the bed. So vulnerable like this, so… deliciously at his will. He must have sensed your spike in arousal, because there was a weight that covered your wrists and neck then - just like the pillory in the courtyard had been like.

“Is that why you picked me?” You questioned, voice rough with dryness.

He stepped away, and you half expected him to bring a paddle down on you. A new rush of desire coursed through your cunt, making you a quivering, wet mess. The anticipation for it, for anything had you arching, wanting - needing so badly. The coldness made your body ache for someone to touch. You nearly pushed yourself up from the bed, but then there was a set of hands on your lower back, tender hands grazing over you there.

Then Rhysand appeared before you on the bed. Your stomach dipped and rolled, surprise rippling through you. Azriel’s cold shadows licked up your shins, wrapped around your immobilized forearms and locked them in place. “Fuck-” You panted, shooting Rhysand a curious - and likely, panicked - look as he watched, eyes dark and hooded while Azriel knelt behind you.

His tongue was immaculate. Your legs nearly gave out at the first stroke, but you resorted to arching, rocking back as much as you could to get him just as you wanted him. He gripped your ass tight in his palms, leaving red marks when he occasionally slapped there. You hadn’t been so fucking desprate for something before. So aching for something inside of you.

All the while, Rhysand watched. He flexed, gripping his cock tight and watched, nearly unblinking as Azriel feasted upon you from behind. The tip of him grew wet quickly, and he used it to wetten the rest of his shaft, from the soft pointed tip to the slight bump near the base where the tie was.

You’d never been fucked by an Illyrian before, let alone two. Your mind went fuzzy at thought of it. There’d always been rumors about how good of a fuck an Illyrian was, but to see the size of them in person… A delicious shudder rolled through you.

A finger dipped inside of you with brutal efficiency, curling and drawing the breath from you. Rhys’s chin tipped up, and he bit his lip. His eyes were keenly focused on Azriel, on the way the male move and lapped at you while he stretched you open with another finger.

You moaned, and moaned as the shadowsinger brought you to near completion, then stopped. You nearly stomped your feet. Your body arched and practically pleaded for him to continue. He removed his fingers gently, then slapped his soaked hand across your ass. “Nice and fucking ready.” He hummed, voice husky and filled with the promise of brutal pleasure.

Rhys pulled the shadow of night over himself, and was behind her in an instant. Azriel had done good, better than Rhys would have done if he’d had the job. He wouldn’t have been able to last as long without delving into his own needs.

His hands ghosted over the perfect ass before him, admiring for a moment. Then Azriel was gripping his cock, pumping a few times. Rhys’s hands bit into her skin, earning a delectable cry that had his cock twitching in Az’s hand. A lick of his fingers and Azriel had his cock soaked with saliva, all the way to the base where the bulging roundness was growing quickly.

“Eager.” Azriel said with a grin.

Rhys didn’t have a moment to bear his teeth at the male. He was gone, then appeared again, fully nude on the bed where Rhys had been. The sight of the shadowsinger’s own reddened, growing knot was enough to send another spurt of precum from the high lord.

He slid in with ease, groaning at the heat, the grip that surrounded him. His toes curled, popping loudly. He tugged on the back of the dress, using it as a handle of sorts to pull her back onto him. Quick, efficient thrusts have him bottoming out, her slickened entrance coating the start of his knot already. His mouth waters at the sight of your bodies slamming together. The sound it makes. He stared down at the way your lips gripped him, enjoying the look of the wetness from both your bodies there.

He panted, nearly ashamed at how much he needed this. He spared a glance to Azriel, at the way the male’s smug gaze took in the entire scene before him. As if to say ‘tell me I’m right.’ in challenge to the pleasure coursing through Rhys’s veins.

His knot was beginning to catch, and he leaned forward, taking a breast into her hand and pulling. He’d have to work her open more, and quickly. He wouldn’t last much longer. He swore at himself, then vowed to make the next time last. He put a foot up near her head, arching over her to get the angle that would have him hammering into her. The moans grew louder, almost frantic. Her muscles flexed and he nearly came at the intense squeezing that her pussy gave him.

“Not yet-” He grunted, placing wet kisses at her ear. He fucked into her quickly, thrusting hard and fast until he felt his knot beginning to catch more, then he nearly stilled. He drew a calming breath, and pressed - more and more until a hiss came from her lips. He pulled out, then pressed in again, and again until the sweet, all consuming heat covered his knot.

“Fuck-” He ground out in a long breath. She was silent, eyes wide and gasping, hands grabbing for the sheets - for anything as her muscles began to quiver. A deep satisfaction took him, made him prideful that he had such a gorgeous female coming on him. He rolled his hips forward, inching in more and more - filling and stretching the pussy that clamped down on him.

Then he was cumming, spilling deep inside her. Her walls milked him, her own orgasm making her legs tremble and nearly collapse. The pull on his cock made the weakness known, and he helped hold her up by the hips. He shuddered and panted, pressing kisses to her shoulder, her hair - anywhere he could reach.

The swelling of his knot was exquisite. The tapered bulge of it fitting easily into your body, as if you were molded for him. And your desire had turned from molten and eating you alive, into a manageable flame with him bottoming out inside you. More than that alone, it was something sent from a god. Intoxicating. Mind blowing. It was a stretch that made words impossible, that made your orgasm nearly instant from the pressure of it. You weren’t sure how many times you’d cum around him by the time he was pulling out.

Wetness dripped from your hole. It dripped down your thighs and to the floor, and embarrassment would have coated you, if it weren’t for the desire still thrumming hot in your veins. With Rhysand pulling free from your grip, your body was at a loss. Greedy for more.

“She’s ready.” Rhys said, voice raspy. Your mind was slow to pick up on the fact that the two Illyrians had traded places once again.

“I thought-” You began, voice hoarse from dryness and moaning.

“You don’t want more?” Azriel asked, and he sounded genuinely confused.

A strange sound came from your throat, and your body arched back to him. “I do.. But the contract..”

His cock was inside you in the next breath, forcing any of your questions out of your mind. All that was left was the need, the overpowering heat that roared inside you. You pushed back to it, eager to take the male.

“An Heir of the night court, and anyone else you’d desire.” Azriel panted in your ear, taking you with slower, more grinding thrusts than Rhysand had. With the slickness of Rhysand’s cum and your own juices already coating you, he slipped into the pace he desired easily. “From how fucking soaked you are for me I’d say you desire me as well.”

Denying it would have been an outright lie. How could anyone not want the shadowsinger? You hummed, spreading your feet farther apart. Azriel was slightly shorter than the high lord, but not by much. The size difference was mostly in their cocks. Even with Rhysand fucking you first, breaking you open, Azriel was still a stretch. His cock rammed into that spot inside you with ease, flicking over it with every thrust.

Your hands clawed at the foot of the bed - not sure if you should cum or not, because he was getting you there quickly. His easy pace was offset with the roughness of each stroke, of how much more solid he seemed than the high lord.

The high lord who now groaned as a shadow pleasured him. Your eyes fluttered closed, trying your hardest not to come undone. Azriel’s laugh at your ear had you tightening on him, earning wet sounds from where your bodies connected. “You like that, how I play with these?” His shadows drifted up your ankles and shins, crawling extra slowly up your thighs until they reached the point where he connected with you.

“They serve you, too. Just as I do.” He said it in a voice that would have you wet instantly, in any other situation. But it was laced with deeper meaning. To serve you. To serve you as what, exactly? As your own pleasure-keeper?

A shocked gasp left you as one of the tendrils of shadow circled your other hole. Your body went taut, arching back and nearly knocking him from your pussy. “Easy-” He crooned, his voice sweet in your ear. The sensitivity was outrageous, an entirely new experience for you. It had brought you back though, to a height where you weren’t nearly on the precipice of orgasm. Your eyes watered with the stimulation, with how much pleasure the shadow brought. He slipped back inside you with ease, pressing in deep - letting you feel the way his tie was growing. The bulb there much larger than Rhysand’s had been.

The shadow circling your ass did not relent, but your body grew accustomed to it’s pressure in time with Azriel’s thrusts. You could tell it was growing larger though, from a small finger’s size to the blunt end of a smaller cock, it nudged at you. You were practically purring, content with the easy way your pleasure grew with each thrust when he pressed deep, pushing his growing knot inside you a few times.

A hum of approval rang from Rhys, who now you noticed was bound by the shadows just as much as you were. His hands were locked to his ankles behind him while he was propped on his knees, that shadow making a mess of him while he dribbled pre come and watched Azriel fuck you. The sight of him - of the high lord bound to Azriel’s wishes made something deep in the pit of your stomach turn from content to ravenous.

Your walls squeezed him, urging him to fuck you faster, deeper - whatever he wanted - whatever he wanted.

Gods, that was what he wanted. He wanted Rhysand like that, to urge you on. To not only see something he liked watching, but to see if you also liked it. Pleasure-keeper indeed.

You rolled back to Azriel as much as you could, nudging that shadow into your hole slightly. You cried out, but He was pushing into you, forcing you down, down. His weight suddenly forcing you to the floor. Your hands still bound, you could do nothing but brace for the impact of your knees against the stone floor, but it never happened. The shadows gripped around your thighs, pulling them apart and holding you there, only a few inches above the floor.

The shadowsinger followed you the whole way down, the move planned and wicked. Heat pumped through you with the adrenaline, taking your arousal back to nearly the edge of the peak yet again.

His knot slid in, this time with much more resistance. “Such a fucking dirty thing aren’t you?” He said, gripping your throat in one hand and forcing you to look up, to watch as his shadows milked Rhysand.

The shadow at your hole left, no longer able to press into you with the new positioning. As much as you missed it, the stretch that Azriel’s knot was providing more than made up for the loss. He fucked into you with determination now, the width of his knot slipping in and out of your entrance with ease. He was just under the size Rhys had been when he’d locked inside of you, and still seemed to have more to give.

“Gods, you’re tight. Rhys didn’t do a good enough job breaking you in, did he?” He ground out, placing bite marks upon your shoulders. One of his hands pressed against your hip, supporting you with every snap of his hips forward. He leaned down slightly, arching over your back and raising up from his knees a bit, then buried himself in you at a brutal pace.

A cry fell from your lips at the intensity of it, at the way he seemed to know exactly what to do, where to press- You were coming undone. There was no stopping it, no way to rock or buck against him differently-

His knot swelled, catching on your lips- rubbing between them until he could no longer pull free. Your pussy sealed around him fully, covering him in your tight heat. You came, and came - knees quivering as he locked inside you. The world was nothing but heat and the crest of your pleasure and the fullness that Azriel provided for your pussy to ride out your orgasm with.

Rhys was groaning - whimpering, really, and the shadows writhed around him in such a mass that it was almost concerning. They’d allowed him some movement, so he could fuck them as he pleased, but within a few strokes, thick white cum shot from his cock. He hissed as he came, his body flexing and rolling with the orgasm.

Then, with a stuttering motion of his hips, Azriel was cumming as well. He collapsed atop you, his orgasm ripped from as your insides pressed on him, taking him for all he was able to provide. He panted, eyes blown wide, his nails leaving deep red crescents where he’d been gripping your hips. He filled you, cum leaking out even around the seal his knot had made.

The only thing he wished was for another body, so he may lick it from you. So he may lap at your clit while still seated inside, to feel how you’d react to such a thing-

Gods his cock was growing hard again just from the thought. No, no- he denied himself of it. He’d have plenty of time, in the future. He took steadying breaths and instead played with your hair,fixing how he’d mussed it and planting kisses along where he’d bitten.

He was unable to move for long, long moments. Not until Rhys broke his mental blankness to laugh - “I think I’ve made a good choice of heir-provider.”

#acotar #acotar fic #reader x azriel #abo #abo themes #acotar smut #reader x rhysand #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #rhysand x you #reader insert #reader insert fic #reader insert smut #a court of thorns and roses fic #a court of thorns and roses fanfic

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gay-dorito-dust · 9 months ago

Note

Here’s a Jason idea for you: imagine a criminal he’s fighting as Red Hood suddenly mentions you, by name, to mess with Jason. Jay would absolutely obliterate the criminal, but that leaves the question of how his enemies know about you… I love the potential for angst/protective Jason 😍 Also, I love your writing so much, it always makes my day to see you on my feed! Thank you for sharing your writings 💞🥰

Tw: blood and violent stuff.

Also thank you for enjoying my stuff! It’s really appreciated and makes me wanna write a lot more in the future. It’s just nice being reminded that people do like the stuff that I put out and not hate it as much as I do when looking back on them.🤣 🦦

A well placed punch to the face landed the criminal flat on his back as he groaned upon impact and was currently struggling to get back up to his feet, only to be pinned by a heavy combat boot weighing down on his chest. Finally Jason had caught up with the drug dealer that had been lurking near children and vulnerable adults alike for the past couple of days, and right where he wanted him too.

‘It’s such a shame that you caught me as fast as you did RedHood because just you came along, I was going to pay one last person a visit before the night was over.’ The criminal smiled, showing off his blood stained teeth in the process, his smile then became a grimace as Jason put more of his weight onto his chest. ‘Well it was a good thing that i came when I did because after tonight, you won’t be selling drugs to anyone anymore, that I can guarantee.’ Jason growled, feeling his blood boil hotter for every second that he didn’t put a bullet in this assholes head.

‘What was their name?’ The criminal trailer off, not heading Jason’s warning and throwing his head back and laughing. ‘Oh right now I remember, it’s Y/n. What a pretty name for an even prettier person.’ Jason froze at the mention of your name, his blood had gone cold but his anger skyrocketed at the insinuation of you being placed in any sort of danger. Whether it be by a drug dealer or otherwise, the same conclusion was to be expected with Jason and that was that he would personally hunt down every last thug, drug dealer and crime lord that ever dared to speak your name.

Jason wordlessly then grabbed the criminal by the collar of his shirt and threw him into a wall with all his strength. Watching on as the scumbag crumpled the floor as he then began to stalk towards him before gradually breaking out into a run and brutally ramming his knee into the criminals head. Jason wasn’t done there though, not by a long shot. He wanted the make the bastard pay for having your name come out of his filthy mouth, he wanted to tear him limb from limb, put him back together again so that he could rip him limb from limb all over again before ever giving him the satisfaction of death.

‘You will never, ever, ever bring anyone to harm ever again! Not while I’m here, not while I’m still breathing and able bodied enough to tear you fuckers to bits!’ Jason hissed pure venom as each of his punches become more and more brutal then the last, his knuckles were going to bruise like hell and hurt like hell too, but the pain and punishment he’d receive would be all worthwhile if it meant keeping you safe and sound. Jason would gladly taken on any punishment anyone could throw at him if it meant you remained unscathed, he’d happily gain more scars on his body if it meant that you could sleep easier at night, Jason always had your best interests in mind whenever he was clearing the streets of Gotham.

He was doing it for you, he was doing it for the kids at Crime Alley, he was doing it so that everyone could have a peace of mind; And he didn’t care about the methods he took to obtaining that.

It wasn’t long until the criminal stopped moving all together, Jason didn’t care that his fists were stained with blood, he just stood up and left the criminal in the alleyway where he was brutally beaten to death and headed home; to you with a heavy mind and a growing pit within his stomach because if a low life scumbag like him knew you by name…then who else did? Black mask? Penguin? Two face? Scarecrow? Carmine Falcone? He didn’t like to think about this one but does Joker know? All these thoughts running through Jason’s head didn’t do him a whole lot of good with his ever growing sense of dread and slight paranoia; He had to get to you and he had to get to you now before anything else happened before the night ended.

‘I’m coming baby, just please still be there when I get home, please don’t let them take you away from me.’ Jason muttered under his breath as he pushed himself forward as he ran from rooftops to rooftop, determined to make it to the apartment before anyone else does because if they did, may god have mercy on their souls because Jason would go to war for you and will violently cut anyone down to size if they were to come between him and you; For nothing got between you and Jason and if they did, Jason would make sure to deal with it before it became more of a problem.

‘Sweetheart? Are you in here?’ Jason called as he slammed the door behind him.

‘Jason? What’s-‘ you rushed into the room and gasped upon seeing the dried blood on his knuckles and his paling face as though he looked about to pass out where he stood. ‘Oh my god.’ You whispered as you rushed towards Jason who rushed towards you, arms out stretched to grasp your waist while your hands held his face. ‘What happened out there? I thought you said it was a simple mission.’ You said, concerned for Jason as he seemingly let out a sigh of relief and rested his forehead against yours.

‘It was meant to be a simple mission but then…’

‘Then what?’ You asked, stroking his cheeks reassuringly and feeling him melt into your touch like he did every night he came home from a long patrol or mission, but he also did it when he needed to feel you on him after waking up from a nightmare.

‘He said your name chipmunk.’ Jason squeezed his eyes shut as though he was trying to rid himself of the events that happened early on and focus on the feeling of your thumbs caressing his cheeks lovingly instead. ‘He said your name -clear as day I heard him say it- and before I knew it I was wailing on him until he stopped moving…all because he said how he was going to come for you next and I couldn’t…’ Jason paused to regulate his breathing that he hadn’t noticed had become fast and uneven the more his mind lingered on that small detail. ‘I couldn’t let him do that. I won’t let them take you from me. Never.’ He then tightens his grip on your waist as he kept uttering the extent he was willing to go to keep you in his life under his breath, almost as though it were a prayer or a promise, which ever one it was you weren’t quite sure but you let Jason squeeze you against his chest with his strong arms like a stress toy to his hearts desire.

‘It’s okay Jaybirdie. I’m right here, can’t you feel my warmth? Hear my voice? I’m right here baby. So you can squeeze me, hold me, cuddle me as much as you need to feel alright again because I’m not going anywhere with my Jaybird.’ You said loud enough for him to hear over his thoughts, pressing kisses into anywhere that you had access to, whether it be his shoulders, face, neck, forehead, you’d plant several kisses to each of those areas respectively. You may act calm but much like Jason, you too didn’t like the idea of some random criminal knowing your name. The implications of that were endless and it would be enough to put anyone on edge or even over it depending on their mental state, and to put it lightly Jason’s mental state wasn’t the healthiest.

The occasional whimper and sniff that came from him only made your heart hurt even more that you were willing to put aside your own fears about the situation to instead focus on comforting Jason, who must be feeling it ten times worse then you were, but it was the fact that in this moment you were bonded by a shared fear but that fear could be eventually overcame by the pair of you working together. ‘It’s okay baby it’s okay, we’re not going anywhere, they can’t make us because we’re stronger together.’ You spoke into the skin of his cheek as you finished pressed a thousand kisses onto them.

‘Stronger together.’ Jason echoed as he pressed himself further against you to feel you closer to him. ‘We’re stronger together.’ You smiled softly, seeing that you finally go through to him somewhat. However you were more than willing to stand in this position all night if it meant bringing Jason back from the edge within his mind because nothing was more important than having your Jason back.

‘That’s right baby.’ You cooed. ‘We’re stronger together, nothing will tear us apart.’

‘Promise?’ Jason asked looking deep into your eyes, it felt as though he was looking at you rather then through you which has your breath hitching in your throat momentarily.

‘I promise.’

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