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Quickly, While They Still Have Horses
Quickly, While They Still Have Horses: Stories by Jan Carson
i am really getting into this little microgenre of connected surreal short stories/vignettes/narratives. Craft was so excellent, and Rakesfall broke my brain in great ways, and Tauhou was so dreamlike and encompassing. Quickly falls right into this tiny category for me, more on the short story end of things than the others but still feeling like it's creating a world that looks like some part of ours, with just the smallest unreal quirks.
the connective tissue here is the political and social landscape of Northern Ireland, and the shadow of the Troubles across stories that span time, borders, boundaries, and peace lines. the emotional logic of the surreal elements—a severed hand that keeps reappearing in a fridge in Ulster, a Catholic ghost haunting a used car bought by Protestants, miracle healing offered and joked about and achieved—hits just right in a setting haunted by violence and division and getting on with life in spite of those things. if a bomb could go off anywhere, any moment, and a fenced wall divides that sort's neighborhood from this sort's, then why couldn't a pillar of heatless fire and smoke be a mental health support device? even the stories that aren't explicitly surreal deal little electric shocks of surprise, highlighting grief or numbness or resilience or love within the mundane everyday.
for half a minute i thought about picking a favorite story to highlight in this review, but looking through them i don't think i can! each one was so sparkling and funny and breathtaking like a punch in the chest. i have endearing love for a woman who admires her lesbian sisters-in-law and does her best to support her soft-spoken husband. i laughed so hard at the adolescent impulsivity and shitheadedness of kids who threw a burning baby doll over the peace wall. i can't stop thinking about the boy who chooses to believe his blind friend when he says he's been healed and wants to learn to drive, and the girl who spends all summer working for a space of her own and is denied by a father who must be recontextualized in that moment between childhood and growing up. what a treasure trove of jewels.
the deets
how i read it: another e-galley from NetGalley, i'm still playing catch-up! but i'm definitely going to buy this one when i have the chance.
try this if you: are delighted by dialects written out, are into surreality, enjoy stellar and quick character development, or dig getting dropped into the day-to-day culture of a place.
some lines i really liked: gosh the prose is just so beautiful
At high tide the seaweed swims with me. Its smooth tongues lap my arms and legs. I think about Jonah in the belly of the whale, all those slick intestines sliding against his skin. I feel small in myself and held.
___
In a way, it's good to be kept busy. It wears the howl out of her. She wonders if it is the same for Dad. By the day's end, there's no talk left in either of them.
___
After Rob, I lost the sea. I let Malcolm have it. I did not want it anymore.
___
The pair of them are always getting on like this. Smiling. Touching. Kissing each other in unusual places such as shoulders and earlobes. They are stupid happy. I wouldn't want to be a lesbian myself, but I envy Cathy all the same.
___
You start being honest with each other, and it's like opening what's-her-name's box. You never know what'll come slinking out.
pub date: July 9, 2024! go get it and read it!!
#books and reading#booklr#bookblr#book recs#book reviews#speculative short fiction#quickly while they still have horses#jan carson
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i think it's been like a week since i last posted queenmaker so the status update is i wrote most of the next chapter and then boss #3, notorious for being disorganised with the schedule, hit me on wednesday night with the thursday through monday slam out of nowhere so i am disorientated and. lying on the couch doing absolutely fuck all.
see you next week 😂
#more of an excuse to complain about the evils of having to work than an update#i also got a speeding ticket tonight for just not looking at my dash while cruising around the back roads so#that bummed me out#anyway#oh and i'm broke#me: i need to save a large amount of money to have a single holiday this year#the powers that be: place a cop right there so she loses another four hundred dollars she doesn't have#again this is just me making an excuse to complain about misfortune#wait til you hear my horse is due for another 150 dollar scope next week to find out if the 2k surgery he had a month ago is still successf#anyway i'd love to have queenmaker out quickly but this week just aint it#it's the dead of winter too it just isn't my time of year
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2.02 (26) / 2.16 (40)
#both monologues are harrowing pieces of SS trying to overcome his pride after a battle#but while the E26 monologue is about a won battle with a great cost attached to that victory#with that victory not being entirely felt precisely because of the cost but SS *wants* to feel it regardless#the dead people stand in front of him he sees them he senses them he acknowledges them but then he moves forward anyway#fixating on the pride of the victory he also senses but wants to beat to the ground and *quickly* before it fully consumes him#so he buries himself to get that touch with his own humanity and his own mortality back#(and he does get it back as much as he'll distance from it doubling down on his role as a padişah until it's too late)#(it's no wonder his final E139 monologue bears some resemblance to his E26 ones from the helmet he wears to the color filter of the scenes#and him acknowledging his mortality again but sitting on the throne anyway)#the E40 monologue is about a lost battle that will bring a great cost with itself if they keep fighting#and on one head yeah SS now fully recognizes that cost and this is why he stops he *retreats* taking care of his people#seemingly having quenched his ego and pride#but on the other hand it took him the defeat to realize all that with him pushing further and further before#in spite of the risky conditions and notice how he wants to stay alive to evade death this time#with that rather pointing to his ego and pride having risen *more* than last time (he even proclaims the expedition a victory in the end)#all the while there's still enough (or rather more) awareness to hold himself back#also something about death vs. love (both quenching pride) in the monologues#of course tying to their respective batches of episodes that focus on either death or love in some way (Leo and Sadika's deaths;#(Hürrem's absense and horse and its death) linked together but what dominates in the respective monologues depends on what SS sees as#mattering in the moment; until love and death and companionship finally come together in the E139 monologue but SS embraces power anyway#also something about the returning motive in that context: SS's “returning is not weakness but maturity Süleiman”#vs. Ibrahim's earlier “returning is not an ability but necessity Ibrahim” (about his past and Parga in particular)#one can return anytime he wants to but refrains to and has to deal with having to return on a bigger level#the other wants to return but can't unless a reason emerges and permission is given and he completely takes in the return#magnificent century#muhteşem yüzyıl#muhtesem yuzyil#sultan suleiman#sultan suleyman
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A Hero's Buttery Addiction
Just a little short thing this time, featuring a certain Hylian hero discovering the joys of cooking with butter! Inspired by @plumpybread whose art helps me visualize how to write larger sizes WAY better than I used to. I know he's like, a legend in the community already but if you haven't seen his work somehow, please check it out! His art is so good!
A cool breeze blew through the air in Rito Village, blowing south from the Hebra Mountains. Link suppressed a shiver, feeling the brisk chill around the bottom of his tunic. He adjusted the feather-lined garment quickly, pulling it down to cover his abdomen, but it immediately started riding up on him as soon as he continued walking. The Hylian grumbled to himself, opting to try and ignore it while he stocked up on supplies at the general store. Link walked into the cozy open-air hut, nodding at the Rito shopkeeper with a warm smile as he piled all of the goat butter the shop had in stock into his satchel. He handed a pouch of rupees to the Rito as payment before walking out of the store to head back out adventuring Hyrule.
Link didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the Hylian has packed on some pounds in recent months. Once he had discovered the joys of cooking with goat butter, he never looked back, and the delicious, creamy, fattening substance had clearly affected his waistline. The sliver of pale, soft chub that peeked out from his warm Rito Tunic gave him a slight muffin top, and his thighs ever so slightly brushed together when he walked. Link seemed ignorant to these changes to his body, though; mentally, he attributed his tighter clothing to an ill-advised attempt at making a fan powered raft that fell apart, plunging him into icy cold water while fully clothed. To him, the cold water must have shrunk his clothing somehow! It couldn’t have anything to do with his new culinary obsession, surely!
The pudgy Hylian sat at a cooking pot, sorting through his available ingredients. Link pulled out a slab of prime meat, a large hearty bass, some Hylian mushrooms, and a stick of goat butter. He paused, thinking for a moment. If just one stick of goat butter improved the flavor of a dish so much… Why not use two? Reaching into his bag, Link grabbed another stick of butter, and tossed it into the pot with the rest of the food, watching it melt and coat the meat and mushrooms, sizzling delightfully. As soon as his meal was done, Link immediately took an eager bite, too hungry to wait any longer. The flavors exploded in his mouth, coating his tongue in a rich, oily sensation. This was amazing! He scarfed down the rest of the pile of meat, seafood, and mushrooms, patting his pudgy stomach in satisfaction. Link knew one thing for sure now: he was going to have to keep trying butter in more recipes if it made them taste this good!
Months passed, and Link’s reputation for cooking rich, decadent meals for himself grew. Shops all over Hyrule knew to stock up on extra goat butter, as the eager Hylian hero would travel to each and every settlement just to get his fix. As his desire for egregious amounts of butter grew, so did his waistline. Link had absolutely blown up since discovering that adding more butter to his cooking made it taste even better. The Hylian man was undeniably morbidly obese, and many of the citizens of Hyrule were a little bit worried about how rapidly he had descended into obesity, but none of them felt brave enough to try and broach the subject with the rapidly-fattening hero.
Link has taken to using his Purah Pad to teleport him directly to each town to minimize the amount of walking he had to do. For some reason he had been getting very tired even from brief walks lately, and his horse had been similarly exhausted just from short rides. Link materialized outside the shrine at Hateno Village, taking time to gather himself before the arduous walk downhill towards the general store. He somehow still didn’t realize the cause of his growing problems was the hundreds of pounds he’d packed onto his body in mere months. Link’s body was bloated with lard, to the point that he was nearing half a ton of fat on his once-lithe frame. His face was framed by a set of cherubic chipmunk cheeks, already flushed and sweaty just from a few slow, wobbling steps away from the shrine. His neck was buried under a ring of flab, graduating him from a double chin to a pronounced triple chin. His once-toned arms were replaced with bloated sacks of blubber the size of pillows, sagging down his sides and forcing his arms out at an angle even when not in use. His elbows were long buried under all of this lard, and even his wrists and hands were beginning to plump up at the joints, making bending his fingers and grabbing food a chore. His pecs had ballooned into flabby breasts that were just starting to droop down either side of his gut. The tunic he currently wore, his blue Champions Tunic that he was given over one hundred years ago, was stretched tightly across his chest, functioning more as a bra than a more decent article of clothing and riddled with rips and tears from stretching across so much flab. His former muffin top had graduated into a stack of fluffy love handles, pooling over the straight waistband of his trousers and , when combined with his flabby chest, were half of the reason his arms stuck out at such an angle now. His bloated thighs touched at every point no matter how far apart his spread his legs to walk, forcing him into a pronounced waddle. He couldn’t even bend his knees anymore; the flab from his thighs had long since enveloped the joints, joining his meaty calves in the downfall of his once-proud stride.
His biggest asset, however, was his gut. The slab of lard was a monument to his gluttony, forming an apron of flab that sagged down to his buried knees. Every slow, measured step he took, his stomach slapped against his meaty thighs, sending his entire flabby body jiggling and wobbling endlessly. The obese hero was sweaty and exhausted after just a few steps, panting and wheezing from the exertion of shifting just under half a ton of fat with every shuffling step, but his craving for butter-soaked food kept him from giving up on his journey to the store.
When the sweaty, huffing pile of lard finally made it, he shoved the door open with his titanic gut, dreading what came next. Link knew intimately well that doors and him didn’t mix these days, even if he refused to accept or acknowledge why. The Hylian was an absolute wall of flab and rolls, trying to force himself through a tiny doorway. The shopkeeper could only stare in horror and fascination as the legendary hero attempted to squeeze his enormous bulk into the store, wheezing from the exertion. He grabbed the doorframe with his pudgy fingers, trying to force his double-wide hips through, but his rolls and folds were firmly wedged. Link continued panting and groaning, his bulky body oozing around either side of the door frame, when an ominous cracking noise started to occur. Suddenly, with a loud snap, the wood of the doorway and the surrounding walls splintered, and Link stumbled through into the shop, his entire body wobbling from the sudden forward momentum. Barreling forward at speeds his obese form weren’t meant to handle, the lard-laden Hylian hero overbalanced, landing on his cascading gut with so much force that it shook the entire building. Merchandise clattered to the floor from the display shelves as shockwaves rippled through his body like an ocean, and he lay on the floor gasping for air after all of his weight knocked it out of his poor, overtaxed lungs. The shopkeeper looked at the damaged doorway in horror, knowing that no matter how much butter the legendary hero was here to purchase, it wouldn’t pay for the repair costs, especially with his increased visits. Something had to be done about the gluttonous hero, but what?
After the disastrous incident at the Hateno General Store, shopkeepers around Hyrule had begun taking Link’s purchases to him as he waited outside their shops, to minimize damage done to their buildings. It was a solution, for sure, but many worried about what would happen when Link grew too large to make the short walks to their stores from the teleport points at the towns’ shrines. Many ideas were proposed: shop stalls set up right at the shrines just for Link, some sort of horse and cart system to carry the growing hero to his destinations, even a conveyor belt to carry him to the store entrances was suggested! However, Link ended up solving the problem himself while cooking one day. He’d begun using his Ultra Hand powers to help him grab ingredients once his arms became basically useless at grabbing things around his enormous bulk. As he sat on a log that his fat ass almost completely devoured, using his prosthetic’s powers to move a fourth stick of butter into the cooking pot for the large hunk of gourmet meat he was sauteeing, Link got an idea. He used his fat sausage fingers to switch the function of his hand to the Copy ability, which usually only worked for building materials. He noticed that the sticks of butter were able to be copied, somehow. Confused, Link decided to try it out, multiplying one stick of goat butter into ten, and moving the pile onto his chest where he could inspect them better. The sticks of butter had a gentle greenish-blue glow to them, but otherwise appeared to be normal sticks of butter.
Link devoured the butter-soaked gourmet meat as he contemplated the glowing butter sticks nestled between his ample breasts when suddenly he was struck by an idea. Straining against the rolls of his arm fat, he craned his overburdened arm towards his chest, grabbing a stick of greenish butter in his fattened hands. Link brought the strange butter towards his pudgy lips slowly, his bountiful lard making it hard for him to reach his mouth with his pillowy arms. He finally shoved the stick of butter into his mouth, the oily fats coating his tongue. His blue eyes lit up as he swallowed: it was incredible! The duplicated butter tasted even richer and more delicious than normal goat butter, and that was without cooking it! Link shoved his hands under his bloated pecs, shifting their mass upwards and forcing the nine remaining sticks of magical butter directly in range of his greedy maw. The greedy Hylian began slurping down the stack of entire sticks of butter while using his Ultra Hand to create more copies, piling them up on his chest within easy eating distance. Link had no idea of the future he had just very quickly resigned himself to with this discovery, but the shopkeepers of Hyrule wouldn’t have to worry about their entryways being broken anymore.
The citizens of Hyrule whispered about what had become of their legendary hero. Shopkeepers quickly noticed his increasingly-frequent trips to their stores had stopped abruptly, leaving them with mixed feelings of concern for what could have happened to Link, but also relieved that they wouldn’t have to keep paying for hefty repair bills anymore. Only those who were closest to Link knew where he’d ended up, and why he’d disappeared altogether. When asked by any concerned Hylians, they would simply assure them that Link was fine, comfortable, and happily retired from adventuring.
Sidon, the newly-crowned king of Zora’s Domain, walked swiftly through the thick underbrush of a secluded forest region tucked away from any towns or roaming travelers. The red scaled Zora knew the way to go intimately, having made the journey many times over the year or so he’d been coming here in secret. Plus, it wasn’t too hard to find what he was looking for—All he had to do was follow the sounds of loud gurgling and slurping. Sidon crested the top of a hill, looking down into what had once been a lush, forested valley. The trees had long since been buried, the valley completely filled by a churning, wobbling mass of pale flab. He knew the mountainous blob below him was his most cherished partner, Link, the hero of Hyrule.
Sidon hopped down from the forested hill, sliding on his finned feet until he landed on the soft form below. It was harder than ever to tell exactly what part of Link’s swollen body he was standing upon, but Sidon was pretty sure it was his stomach. His gigantic gut was constantly stuffed with the replicated butter that Link was somehow constantly creating more of, causing the cascading waterfall of flab to grow more and more every moment as his body worked overtime to convert the literal gallons of butter he consumed into adipose. Sidon could feel the mountainesque stomach below his feet groaning and churning, causing the blobby body of his boyfriend to always be in some sort of state of movement even after long ago losing his mobility.
The Zora king began the long hike towards the center of Link’s growing mass, clinging desperately to whatever rolls and folds he could grab whenever a particularly strong tremor shifted the oceanic mass like tides crashing upon a shore. Sidon crested the top of Link’s stomach rolls after twenty minutes of climbing, trying to identify more parts of the blob’s body to use as landmarks. He could pretty easily find Link’s breasts due to his nipples, though they were a lot lower down than Sidon was now. Link’s tits were so huge that they’d lost all shape and form, sagging under their weight to the point that they drooped towards the lowest rolls of his gut. He could also guess where Link’s arms were from the location of his chest, gazing at the swollen pancake stacks of rolls directly above the meaty breasts. Sidon figured that Link’s hands must be buried under literal feet of flab at this point, looking at the divots where they’d long ago vanished. Even if he could unearth his fands from all of that lard, there was no way he’d be able to use them for anything aside from his Ultra Hand’s powers; his digits must be so coated in fat that they’d be barely recognizable as hands anymore.
Once he’d figured out where Link’s useless arms were, finding his head was easy. Sidon looked at the recessed dip in the blobby mountain between the boulder-sized fat deposits that used to be Link’s biceps and forearms towards where a constant flow of glowing green liquid was manifesting and pouring downward into. Sidon swiftly scrambled over Link’s bloated cleavage, taking care not to slip; he’d once made that mistake and it took him hours to wrench his leg free from the cavernous crevasse. Once he’d crested the twin hills of lard, it was easy going from there, as Link’s chins had multiplied into a nice staircase of neck rolls. As he descended down, Sidon entered what could only be described as a cavern of fat formed by the encroaching mass of Link’s flabby jowls and collapsing back rolls. He followed the green glow of magically-duplicated butter deeper into the humid cave, the sounds of hungry slurping and desperate moans growing louder and louder. Finally, Sidon reached the end of the vast fat cave and approached his boyfriend’s bloated face eagerly.
Link’s face was no longer recognizable, so covered in flab that no distinguishable features remained. Fat has long ago collapsed over his forehead, covering his eyes completely. His pointed ears were buried between rolls of cheek and back fat, as was his golden hair. All that remained was his mouth, though even that wasn’t enough to recognize him by. His lips had plumpened considerably, and were pinched between his engorged jowls into a permanent pout as he sucked down hundreds of gallons of melted magical butter. Sidon didn’t mind though, he loved Link no matter how fat he got. The Zora hero plopped himself down on one of Link’s cheeks, kissing his partner’s flabby face before settling down to watch him eat for a while. One thing was for sure, Link sure made a comfortable bed no matter where you laid on him now.
#male weight gain#weight gain#ssbhm#bhm weight gain#my writing#wg writing#ssbhm belly#fat writing#male feedism
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Western monsters! Yeehaw!!
ᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒ
🤠 Orc cowboy with a massive steed almost twice the size of a normal horse. He finds it funny how scared you are of the absolute beast so he all but forces you to get on its back and teaches you how to ride it. You're terrified at first but your attitude quickly changes when he settles behind you, placing his hands over yours on the reins, pressing up close and talking low in your ear in that rich southern drawl.
🐍 Outlaw rattlesnake naga who kidnaps you to do the whole tie you to the train tracks bit but halts in their tracks (haha) when they lick the air and taste...arousal? Perhaps the innocent victim they have over their shoulder isn't so innocent after all.
🐎 Centaur who offers a ride to a poor frantic human only to realise he's been tricked into being the getaway horse for a bandit when the sherrif starts chasing and yelling after them. He easily outruns the Sherrif's horse but now has to deal with being on the run with a theif! A cute thief but still a thief!
🐮 Sneeking into a barn just to have a warm place to sleep for the night only to wake up surrounded by curious cow hybrids. They start pampering and coddling you because you must be so scared and lost, you poor thing. The ranger doesn't take kindly to finding you in a cuddle pile, drinking his prized milk from the source while getting fondled and licked by his prized cows.
🐊 Crocodile hybrid Sherrif who becomes quite fond of the new outlaw in his town. Every time you outsmart him and get away it just makes his dick harder and his heart beat faster. When he finally catches you, after one hell of a chase, he doesn't drag you to the jailhouse but instead to his home. He's rambling on about how someone so cunning and resourceful would be the perfect mate and how he'll breed you full of his eggs to prove it to you.
#yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehaw!#I'll add onto this later i think#monster x human#monster x reader#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fucking#exophelia#terato#orc x reader#naga x reader#centaur#gn! reader#gn reader
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It was bound to happen eventually. You just didn’t think you’d get caught literally with your pants off, staring at your roommate Toji like a deer in fucking headlights and a vibrator between your legs.
The silence between you is staggering, except for the buzz of the toy still active in your hand. You’re in such utter shock that it takes you a few seconds to finally turn it off, blood pounding in your ears, completely mortified of getting caught in the act.
You’re not close to your roommate; in fact, you actively try to avoid him. Part of this is because the two of you come from totally different worlds. He’s nearly a decade older than you, a divorced dad who barely sees his son. His current means of income are betting on horse races and more nefarious tasks he typically performs at night, though you can’t confirm exactly what those nefarious tasks are. Meanwhile, you’re a struggling grad student, forced to share a small apartment with a potential hitman, pimp, and/or yakuza member. Like you said, you’re still not sure, but based on his looks and demeanor, those are your best guesses.
But it’s not as if you’re complaining.
While you are a tad bit scared of him, he’s definitely easy on the eyes. Tall, statuesque with those chiseled muscles, that alluring scar across his lips. He leaves you alone just as much as you do for him, so no matter how sketchy he comes across, you have no reason to be wary of him.
Though, tonight might change that.
You just finished writing a paper that you’ve been working on for weeks now. Toji is out, as usual, and you need some major stress relief. So, you shut your door closed, not bothering to lock it, strip off your bottoms, and plop yourself onto the bed, reaching for your vibrator inside your drawer. You browse through your spicy audio app and select one of your favorites, knowing it will certainly get you off. Again, you’re negligent when it comes to discretion because you play it out loud, no headphones and at the highest volume. Maybe the tiniest part of you wants to get caught with how careless you’re being.
That’s proven the second he walks in on you, eyes wide at the lewd sight before him, black t-shirt clinging deliciously to his body, erection growing in his grey sweats. You’ve been at it for a few minutes by now, already one orgasm in, and you’re well aware how wet you are, how shiny and enticing it looks with your legs spread wide, on full display for him.
The silence is broken when he walks towards you, long strides to get to you quickly. He grabs hold of your knees, spreading you even wider, and you don’t resist. You yield to him, like putty in his hands, ready for whatever he’s willing to give you. He licks his lips, tongue grazing over that fucking scar you like so much. “Finally,” he mutters, bowing down to spread his tongue on your clit, slobbering all over you as if he’s been waiting for this moment, as if you’ve been teasing him all this time.
Yeah, you definitely wanted to get caught tonight.
#I finally subscribed to quinn last night and yeah#I wrote this with my pussy sorry#should I make this into a full fic?#toji fushiguro smut#toji smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji x you#jjk smut
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The middle of war.
Aemond Targaryen x Valyeron!reader
Summary: the reader was taken right under Aemond's nose. He's determined to get her back, no matter the consequences.
part 2
Masterlist
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Aemond was calm and calculated.
Stern and Proud.
But it all crashed violently when he returned from a dragon ride to see her gone.
His wife. Gone.
He growled at the guards to search the castle.
She had to still be here.
…
Y/n sat on the back of a horse with a hood over her head. She had her mother's silver hair, and the Strong curls that could be easily spotted from miles away, "He will have your head for this!" She said worriedly.
"That is if he catches us before I get you back home," Jace said with a grin.
"Jace, this is supposed to be my home," she reasoned.
"But it's not. Your home is with us. With mother."
She leaned against his back, "She's going to be angry that you risked so much to get me."
"We will deal with it as it comes," he shrugged.
"And if Vhagar appears on Dragonstone's doorstep for me?"
When he doesn't answer, she continues, "Despite what you think, brother, I do love Aemond."
Jace stared straight ahead with a set jaw, "After all he's done?"
"Mother loves Daemon, does she not? He is hardly redeemable."
"Aemond killed Luke!"
"And Daemon had a child killed for it, Jace!"
Silence swallowed the two as the horse rode on.
"But does he love you back?" Jace finally asked softly.
"I suppose we shall see, won't we?"
…
Aemond stormed into the throne room, "Brother!"
Aegon looked up from his friends with upshot eyebrows, "Aemond! Come join us for a drink!"
"Where is Cole?" Aemond asked coldly.
"I… I dunno, brother." Aegon shrugged. "Something the matter?"
He let out an angered chuckle, "'Something the matter?!' You sit here and drink while my wife is taken from her chambers."
Aegon's brow furrowed, "Taken? She's gone?"
Aemond couldn't sit by with idle chatter while she stayed missing. He turned on his heel and walked from the room.
…
Jace had gotten them safely to Vermax, who had stayed miles away to avoid suspicion. Once the two mounted the dragon, the rest of the travel was easy.
And they soon arrived at Dragonstone.
Rheanyra's jaw almost dropped completely at the sight of her only daughter walking through the door.
The entire council completely paused.
"Mother," Jace smiled. "I have brought her back home."
Y/n braced for a scream. Yells from her mother. A stern talk. Something.
She didn't expect a relieved hug.
"Oh, my dear," Rheanyra almost sobbed into her hair. "I've been so worried."
Almost as quickly as the cooing had began, it had stopped. The queen slapped Jace on the shoulder, "What were you thinking?!"
"I've brought my sister- your daughter- home… and you're upset?" He asked confused.
Her eyes narrowed, "Do you not think that Aemond will not wish to slay us all for this? It is an act of war!"
"Not if she came willingly," Jace shrugged.
Daemon let out a breathy laugh, "That's not how Targaryens see things."
The entire council turned to Y/n, who could only stare.
…
Word had quickly spread of the Princess's disappearance, and the truth had shown itself just as easily.
A guard announced that he had seen a dragon fly off only a few miles from the castle.
Vermax.
Aemond threw his chalice at the wall, not caring for the wine that spilled from it.
The entirety of Aegon's council jumped at the sudden display of the otherwise collected man.
"We shall send a raven," Alicent reasoned. "They will return her."
"Or what?" Aegon asked. "What punishment do we possibly have to threaten?"
"I will retrieve her myself," Aemond growled. "I will not have her bartered for as if she is a prized goat."
"And what if that's what they are expecting?" Alicent said. "They either attack you there and kill our greatest dragon, or they are planning to ambush us here while you are away."
"I will not merely sit around. My wife was taken from her bed!" He roared.
"And we will get her back," Alicent rebutted. "Just give us time to gain a strategy."
"Strategy?" Aemond asked with a calming grin. "I care not for it this time. Let them take all of King's Landing for all I care-"
"Please, my prince." Cole finally chipped in. "We must act carefully."
"Do not speak to me as if you did not abandon your post the day she was taken!" Aemond stood. He began to walk around the table with a calm facade, "Tell me why you would dare abandon your post, Sir Cole." He leaned down behind him, "What were you doing rather than guarding the people you are sworn to?"
"Aemond, enough," Alicent warned. "I'm just getting started," Aemond sneered.
Aegon sighed and leaned back in his chair, chugging the wine in his cup.
…
"Mother, you know they did not talk to strategy with me. And even if they did," Y/n shrugged. "I do not wish to be in any of this war."
"You are in the middle of it now," Rheanyra said.
She looked to Jace and cocked her head, "That is not from any fault of mine."
Jace held his hands up, "You are my sister and you belong here."
"Do not force her to pick a side, Jace." Their mother reprimanded. "She is a Targaryen by blood and a Targaryen by marriage. Do not make her choose one now."
"And if Aemond comes looking for her?" Jace asked.
Rheanyra looked between her children, "Then you will go back peacefully."
Jace's eyes widened, "You will not just let her be taken?!"
"It is not taken if she goes willingly!" Rheanyra sneered at him. "Is that not what you said only days ago?"
…
Aemond laid for the tenth night on the bed that she had once slept next to him in.
He stared at the ceiling.
It felt cold.
He let out a sigh before grunting and getting up in an angered huff.
The sun would be up in only a few hours.
Perhaps they wouldn't notice him until he's gone.
…
Y/n couldn't sleep that night.
She had woken up hours before the sun, getting dressed, eating an early breakfast and spent her time reading by candlelight in her bay window.
The sun had began to rise and she welcomed the feeling of its rays on her through the window.
But it flickered for just a moment before she heard cries from the guards.
"DRAGON!"
Her head shot up to look out of the window.
Vhagar.
She quickly got up, tying her shoes as quickly as she could and ran down the corridor, despite the yells from the guards at her door.
They had all been caught off guard by the hour of Vhagar's appearance, and no one had proper defense against her.
But strangely enough, Aemond had landed her not far from the doors to Dragonstone. He stood on top of her saddle patiently for Rheanyra to appear.
But when it was his wife running to him, he felt his heart jolt.
He slid down Vhagar as quickly as possible and held out his arms for her.
He grunted from the impact of her body against his, but it was far from unwelcome.
One of his hands found purchase around her waist tightly and the other cradled the back of her head as she tucked her face against his neck.
Only then did Rheanyra appear.
She stood on top of one of the walls, overlooking the two.
Aemond's hands did not move, but his head rose proudly, as if challenging her to defy him now. His voice was soft so only his wife could hear, "Mount Vhagar."
She pulled away and wiped her cheeks, "W.. What?"
"Mount Vhagar now," he commanded as he continued his glare.
Y/n quickly moved to the beast. Since Aemond had introduced her to Vhagar, the dragon had found a love for her. Aemond worried that sometimes his own dragon cared for his wife more than him.
��But at this moment, he hoped that she truly did.
Next to Rheanyra now stood Daemon with a bow and arrow in hand, the arrow notched and the string pulled back. It was aimed directly at him.
Aemond felt a chuckle bubble from his throat. A single arrow against a dragon?
"Take her back, Aemond!" Rheanyra commanded loudly from the wall.
Aemond tilted his head with a light hum in thought. It was too easy.
That's when Daemon moved his bow and aimed directly at Y/n atop Vhagar.
"What are you doing?" Rheanyra muttered to Daemon.
"Whatever I have to." He muttered back.
Aemond felt a fire light behind his eyes. He studied mathematics quite a bit. If he were to call Vhagar to light the castle, would Daemon have time to release the arrow?
He feared that he did.
But the girl's own mother wouldn't allow this to happen, would she?
Aemond was beginning to think that she would.
"Aemond, please." Y/n called from the saddle.
"I do not retreat so easily, my love."
"It is not a retreat if you have what you've set out for!" She called back.
He hummed as he thought over it before nodded and moving back to the dragon.
He began to climb Vhagar.
"You're lucky that worked," Rheanrya sighed.
"I'm not done yet," Daemon smiled.
"What do you mean?"
The man smiled, "You'll see."
Aemond now mounted Vhagar, set behind his wife as he had done so many times before. He tightened her ties to the dragon before tying his own around his legs.
He leaned forward to her ear, but never took his eyes off of the two atop the wall, "Are you alright?"
She nodded, "I'm fine."
He relaxed just barely at that. "Alright. Hold on now." He grabbed the ropes in a firm grip before shouting, "Sōvēs! (Fly!)"
Vhagar began to move, unfolding her wings and pushing from the ground.
Y/n let out a surprised laugh, as she does every time, but Aemond is far from gleeful.
Daemon had yet to drop his bow.
Perhaps this war would be over if he just commended dragon fire on all of them now.
But Vhagar made quick work of getting in the air, and only then did the Prince begin to relax.
He made the dragon circle Dragonstone once with a smirk.
But Daemon's smirk grew.
Rheanyra noticed. "What are you doing? Daemon don't-"
The arrow shot from the bow.
Aemond noticed it at the last second, pulling at the ropes in an attempt to block it with the tough hide of the dragon.
When he didn't see it whiz past their heads, he let out a sigh.
Y/n let out a gut wrenching scream.
Aemond leaned forward immediately, looking over her shoulder to see the arrow that had lodged itself into her stomach.
He let out a scream of his own, feeling his entire body flood with grief.
He looked down as they passed Daemon, who held the proudest smirk he'd ever seen a human wear.
But Rheanyra's hand was held over her mouth in horror.
Aemond's eye flickered with a lit fire as he began to pull the ropes for Vhagar to circle again to kill them all.
Y/n's hand moved up. It shook violently as she tried to will herself to touch the arrow in her.
Aemond grunted at her, "Don't touch it."
She let out a whine in pain and frustration as her body leaned back against his.
He doesn't have time to release dragon fire on them all now.
"Naejot! (Forward!)" He yelled at the dragon, who pushed forward past Dragonstone.
Every second had become precious.
Aemond shouted at Vhagar every few moments in urgency, and only then was he so relieved that he had one of the largest dragons in the world for her quick travels.
The woman's cheeks paled and her forehead had developed a thick layer of sweat.
Aemond was beyond panic.
They landed a few hours later at King's Landing and he began shouting commands at guards as he untied her from the dragon.
…
Aemond made no move to leave her side.
Still covered in sweat and grime and his riding gear, he stood in their chambers silently and watched as the maesters worked to ease her wounds.
Alicent stood not far behind from him, "Will she make it-"
"-GET OUT!" Aemond's voice cracked from the volume. He had practically lost it long before from commanding Vhagar so harshly.
Alicent flinched, "A… Aemond, I-"
He turned around to her, "I said get out."
The queen regent moved to say more, but knew better, and nodded, leaving the room.
…
Two hours later, the maester finally spoke to the Prince, "We believe she will make it. There is no fever in the wound. If she survives the night, she will make a full recovery."
Aemond hums, "and what may I do to ensure that she does?"
The maester thought for a moment, "Maintain her temperature. Do not anger the wound. And when she wakes, do not let her move or get carried away in extreme emotions."
The prince hummed again, "Thank you."
The maester nodded, "Of course, my prince."
They all soon took their leave, leaving only the prince and the unconscious princess.
…
The night was torturous for the prince.
He would never will himself to sleep. He worried that each breath could be her last.
Deep into the night, she finally stirred. "Ae… Aemond?" She asked groggily.
He managed a smile and sat next to her on the bed, "Hello, my love."
She looked around before pushing herself up.
His hand quickly moved to her shoulder and pushed her down, "Woah, woah, woah. You must remain down."
She let herself fall back down on the bed, "It hurts."
"I know it does," he cooed. His fingers brushed the hair from her forehead.
"I'm sorry I left."
"I'm sorry you were able to."
The two stared at one another for a while before Aemond stood. He opened the door and spoke to the guard, "Have a raven sent to Rheanyra. Tell her the princess will live."
He quickly returned to her side, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. "I've never been scared before, my love."
"Me too" she hummed. "What if that arrow had hit you?"
He leaned back with a confused look. Of all things, she was worried for him?
"You disappear from our chambers with no trace and then when I do find you, you have an arrow shot in you, and yet you believe I am worried that I may have been the one injured?"
She hummed again, "You should apologize to Vhagar. You shouted at her so harshly."
Aemond couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping him, "You worry for my dragon as well?"
"I cannot help it." She mused.
"If I apologize to Vhagar, will you promise me not to leave again?"
She considers his words, then nods.
He smiles and pulled her hand up, kissing the back of it, "Thank you."
Perhaps the two wouldn't choose sides to the war at all. It only ends in destruction and dragon fire for all who dare.
And as long as the two had one another, they didn't believe that to be too bad.
................................................................
part 2
#fanfiction#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#prince aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon#house targaryen#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones
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May I say just Tyler pulling you close to him while you’re staying safe from a tornado hmmm
A lil protective moment with him is all I want 🫠🫠. Ask and you shall receive, my dear.
Pairing; Tyler Owen’s x reader
Word count; 1.2k (I got carried away just a little)
cw; tornadoes, rodeos, idk what else? FLUFFF AND a sprinkle of angst.
“Is this how they do it in Texas too?”
You looked up at the man beside you, his green eyes stilled on you. You were focusing on the rodeo he’d brought you to, men out on horses and bulls, taming the wild animals, riding their fears.
You looked back Tyler, he was still focused on you and not on the game. Heat rose to your cheeks, turning them into a red mess as you rubbed your hands nervously on the fat of your thighs. It was too hot to wear anything but jean shorts and a tank.
“Pretty much, not different from how they originally used to do back in the early days actually. But Texans have their pride.” You didn’t really have the accent to be taken as someone from Houston, but the badges- fabric patches with Velcro- you wore on your jeans at all times were evident enough of how proud you were to be from Texas.
The man chuckled, his eyes getting just a little smaller as crinkles formed around them, his cheeks lifting forming into a beautiful smile on his lips.
“Well ain’t that the right way to do it”
You both laughed, turning back to the rodeo. You tried to get a little bit comfortable in your seat, adjusting yourself before deciding to just sit a little bit straighter. Your hands reach for the arm rests, expecting the cold metal to make contact, but it never happens, instead your met with a warm, calloused palm of Tyler’s. He’s a little surprised at first, you both are, he slowly gathers the courage and weaves his hand through yours, helping you adjust.
You keep a hold of his hand, looking at him wide eyed and he’d say you look like a deer caught in headlights but that won’t do the justice to how beautiful your eyes look right now. The way sweat glistened on your body, your lips parted and slightly heavy breath of yours that fans his face. You’re mere inches away but it feels too far to him. He needs to feel you, feel those lips on his, caress your soft skin under his rough hands an-
A loud siren buzzes through the arena snapping the two of you out of it. A tornado siren. You felt the continuous buzz of the alert through your jeans, looking back at Tyler with the same look in your eyes.
We gotta get out of here.
And so, in a very calm yet hasty manner, you and Tyler take off. Calmly brushing past the crowd and scared civilians to get to his truck. It might not be enough to stay in there but you may have enough time to get somewhere safe.
Think think think, where is safe? And suddenly it hits you.
Your hands are still attached, his hand squeezing yours a little too tight when he feels like you might get swallowed by the rushing crowd.
“I got it!”
You finally get to his truck, quickly getting in and driving.
Tyler is scared, but the way a smile forms at your lips, he almost forgets you’re in the middle of fucking life and death.
“You got somewhere close?”
You nod, giving him the directions as he hits the gas on full. It’s an old bunker you found literally yesterday when you came out to explore the town. Trying to figure out places that could be safe for the people to evacuate to. It is small, enough to fit around two or three people and you hope it’s not jammed up for the two of you to seek shelter.
The tornado is not far behind. Gaining speed and strength as it chases the two of you. You’re not ready, this was not in the plan and you’re certain that today is not the day you’ll die. Not when you’ve just stared to get to know him.
Tyler strategically positions his car, activating the drills as the two of you exit, running towards the patch of metal in the middle of the farm field.
He gets to it first, letting go of your hand mid sprint to open it up for you. Letting you climb down before getting in, the metal trap door a little too heavy with the winds and rain for him to completely shut it. So he leaves it open, letting the cold rain pour down into the bullet as he reaches for you.
You’re holding onto the pipelines, not having it in you to move further because of the wind. You feel his hand on your waist, holding onto you for dear life as your grip on the pipes tightens. One hand holding onto you and the other onto the pipe right above you, Tyler grounds himself on the floor. His feet turned soon as he tried not to move. Your hand comes up to where his rests on your waist, clutching it tighter before he pulls you even closer, chest to back.
You can feel his heart pounding, like your own, against your back. You’re both heaving. Your heavy breathes turning into calmer ones as your eyes closed, trying to breathe in his scent, feeling the way his arm feels around you. Thinking about anything but the giant tornado above your head. The smell of him engulfs you and you find yourself thinking and wanting to feel is him, him, him, him.
It’s enough. The sheer skin to skin contact, the smell of your hair right under his nose, the feel of his hot breath on your neck. It sends shivers down both of your spines and in no time the sky clears and the wind and rain passes over. The tornado moved or completely died, you’re not sure.
But you’re sure about the man that is still latched to you. Holding onto for dear life. The way he’s nuzzling his nose into your hair, his lips brushing against your scalp and leaving tiny kisses you can barely make out.
“It’s gone” your voice is nothing but a whisper. You turn in his arms, his hand still attached to your waist as you look up at him through wet lashes.
He has this wild look in his eyes, concern, fear, and love all moulded into one. You feel them dart to your lips, and back to your eyes before his other hand comes up to brush some hair from your face.
“Thank you for that” he whispers, “if you hadn’t known about this place, I’d probably be dead”
You give him a smile, squeezing his arm before snaking your way out of his grasp.he reluctantly lets go of you, wanting to keep contact with your soft skin and that close proximity that kept you warm. But he lets you go, you’re shaken, just a little bit. This wasn’t your first tornado, but god it felt like you both were about to die there.
He helps you get back up, climbing up the ladder just behind you.
The walk back to the truck is quiet, you’re only half an arm length away from him but it feels too far.
He opened the door to the passenger seat, letting you in before getting into the drivers seat himself. Letting out a long breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in before deciding to break the silence.
“So, you know anymore rodeos that end like that?”
A/n; The ending feels rushed, idk? I hope you liked it!! Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated, lovies🫶🏻🫶🏻.
#Tyler Owen’s x reader#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#twisters#twisters 2024#daisy edgar jones#Glen Powell#Glen Powell x reader#girlinthechairsvoid#Pav rambles#requests#Jake seresin x reader#Jake seresin
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you are my moonlight
In which gwayne hightower meets his future wife, and his timing is most unfortunate
PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader
WARNINGS: fluff, young love, friends fighting, creepy viserys, horrible timing
WORD COUNT: 3.5k
AN: this could be read as a prequel to come back to me, but does NOT have to be read to understand any context!!
The tourney was in full swing, Y/N sitting eagerly on Rhaenyra’s left. The first two matches had finished rather similarly, with Sir Criston Cole being the winner. What the trio was actually waiting for was Prince Daemon’s match. It was all Rhaenyra had talked about for days and the fact that he’d gifted her a necklace of Valyrian steel, a rare and precious token that many in the realm could not afford. Of course, Rhaenyra and her family were the exception, as they were one of two of the only remaining High Valyrian houses left.
The knights of the realm lined up before the Prince, the Master of Revels, announced the man himself. “Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent.” The prince rode down the line, inspecting each knight briefly. He quickly settled on Alicent’s brother, Ser Gwayne. “For his first challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King.”
Alicent grew restless, picking at the skin surrounding her fingers. Y/N wished she could comfort the auburn haired girl herself, but Rhaenyra grabbed her friend's hand quickly, stopping her from further injury. The two men lined up on their respective sides, racing towards each other.
Ser Gwayne released the first blow to the shock of the stands. Y/N beamed, though she did not know why. She hardly knew the knight, only hearing of him through Alicent when she recalled her childhood. The second round was quick, and at the last second, Prince Daemon lowered his joust in front of the horse's legs, causing it to topple over, taking Ser Gwayne with it. She gasped, a hand covering her mouth. She mumbled, knowing Rhaenyra would not stand for any untoward talk of her uncle. “By the seven.”
Ser Gwayne did not move, and Alicent grew more anxious by the second. Y/N reached her hand out, grasping Alicent's briefly. ���He will be alright, Alicent, I know it.” The squires lifted him from the ground, walking him over to the medicine tent. He would be transported later to the sept, Y/N assumed. She would have to visit him and keep him company while he recovered.
Prince Daemon approached the Royal apartment, and Rhaenyra instantly approached her uncle. “Nicely done, Uncle.” Alicent and Y/N followed suit, still squeamish from the clearly immoral act.
“Thank you, Princess.” Daemon nodded his head. “Lady Y/N.”
“My Prince.”
He turned to Alicent. “Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it.” Alicent walked away, and Daemon smiled once more at the ward of the crown. “Next tourney, my lady, I shall ask you.”
Y/N laughed. “I look forward to that day, my Prince.”
Alicent returned swiftly, placing her favor on the Prince’s joust. “Good luck, my Prince.” The three girls sat down, waving at the crowd. The tourney had turned sour near after, with three fights breaking out, all ending in death. The knights, who had never seen battle, were bloodthirsty from what she could tell.
Y/N grew nauseous quickly, begging Rhaenyra for pardon so that she did not grow sick. Rushing out of the royal apartment, she decided to visit Ser Gwayne while she still had the nerve. The tent was quiet, with the exception of a few masters concocting ointments. Y/N peaked around the corner, coming face to face with Alicent’s brother. She curtsied, bowing her head. “My lord.” He tried to sit up, but she quickly stopped him. “Please, there is no need to further harm yourself.”
He smiled gratefully. “I must ask for your forgiveness, my lady; I do not remember meeting you.”
“I am Y/N of House Hawthorne. A ward of the crown and a friend of your sister’s.”
“A pleasure, my lady.” He tilted his head. “Has she sent you here then?”
“Alicent remains at the tourney. I-” She blushed, realizing how foolish it sounded. “I saw your joust, and I wanted to see that you were well. For Alicent’s sake.”
He nodded, a smirk growing on his lips. “For Alicent, of course. I must say, I have not heard of House Hawthorne.” She smiled, sitting beside him.
“We are located in the Westerlands, my lord, and are sworn to House Lannister.” She looked closer at his wound, wincing. “Your wound looks rather agitated still. Would you mind if I-”
He shook his head quickly. “Please. I would be most appreciative.”
She stood, sneaking a cloth and an herb she knew caused numbing. Wrapping it carefully, she dipped the cloth in water, tapping it lightly on his skin. “This should numb the pain, for now, my lord. I’ve known this herb to speed the healing process along quite nicely.”
He hummed, closing his eyes. “How did you become so well acquainted with such knowledge?”
“My mother was a trained healer, my lord.”
“Please call me Gwayne.” He peeked through his eyelids, giving her a kind smile. “You’ve all but earned it.”
“Very well, my lo- Gwayne.” She nodded. “If I can call you by your name, it is only fair that you call me by mine.”
He scoffed. “Hardly. That would be highly improper.”
She raised an eyebrow, still delicately tapping the cloth. “Opposed to what you have asked of me?”
He nodded, steadfast. “You are a lady. You should be addressed as such.”
Dipping the cloth back in the water, she laughed. “Hardly.”
“Using my own words against me.” He laughed back. “My, you are a wonder.”
“Y/N?”
She froze, turning around quickly. For some reason Y/N felt guilty, caught even. But seeing Alicent stand at the end of her brother’s bed, her face as pale as the winter snow, made the girl forget her worries. Y/N dropped the cloth in the bowl, rushing to Alicent’s side. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“The Queen. She’s-” Alicent leaned closer, whispering in her friend's ear. “She’s dead.” Y/N gasped.
“I-” Y/N turned back to Gwayne, waving quickly. “It was wonderful to make your acquaintance, my lord.” The two girls rushed off, leaving the knight thoroughly confused.
“Call me-” The girl was out of the tent before he could finish his sentence.
The funeral was a somber affair, as to be expected. Alicent and Y/N stood close by to Rhaenyra, staring at the covered bodies. Syrax, the Princess’s dragon, stood at the top of the hill, waiting for its orders. They stood in silence for the better part of an hour before Prince Daemon whispered in Rhaenyra’s ear, no doubt telling her that she would have to be the one to give the order.
A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine as her friend stepped forward, catching a sob. “D-” Rhaenyra took a deep breath, commanding her dragon. “Dracarys.”
The yellow fury let out a great blast, effectively burning her mother and brother’s corpses. Rhaenyra turned away, unable to look at her deceased loved ones. Soon after, the crowd dissipated, leaving Rhaenyra, Y/N, and Alicent still standing by the sight. Y/N stayed back as Alicent approached their grieving friend.
“My lady.”
Y/N turned, smiling lightly at the Hightower. “My lord.”
“I believe last we met, I asked you to call me by my name.” He smirked. “Or am I mistaken?”
She laughed quietly. “I believe the herb I applied made you hallucinate, my lord. You never said anything of the sort.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you would never lie to me, so I shall take your word for it.”
Y/N looked back at her friends, her heart aching.
“She is an unlucky Princess,” Gwayne muttered.
“Yes, indeed. Losing a parent is never easy.”
“I am sorry.” Y/N turned back to the young knight, confusion etched on her face. “It is just- I assumed that with you being a ward of the crown-”
“You would be correct. But it has been so long, I hardly remember what it was like to have parents.”
He frowned. “That is horrible. I lost my own mother just a year ago.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she tried to ignore the shock that rang through her body. “It is never easy.”
She shook her head, placing a hand delicately over his. “You are, unfortunately, correct.”
A cough broke the pair apart, Y/N practically jumping at the interruption. “I could use some company on Dragonback.” Rhaenyra practically whispered. “Would you join me?”
“Of course.” She turned back to Gwayne, curtsying quickly. “My lord.”
The two girls walked up the hill, arm in arm. Alicent looked curiously at her brother. “What are you doing?”
He whipped around, laughing at his sister. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I only meant to say, you’ve taken a recent fascination in Y/N.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “And your point?”
Alicent smiled, shaking her head. “Merely a statement, brother.”
The palace gardens were in full bloom this time of year, and Y/N always found comfort in the little corner with a quaint fountain and an outlook of the ocean. Rhaenyra and she frequented this spot often in their youth, and Y/N needed respite from the high tensions at court. She’d been stuck on the same page for what seemed like hours when a voice broke through her focus. “We meet again.” Gwayne bowed his head, grinning much too widely. “My lady.”
Y/N made no effort to stand, raising her eyebrows. “I am beginning to think, my lord, that you have been following me.”
“Not that I am…” He started, sitting at the end of the cushioned chair that she occupied. “But if I was, it might have something to do with the fact that you are still not calling me by my name.”
She laughed. “Is it that simple?”
He nodded. “Quite. But do not worry yourself, I’ll wait.” His eyes sparkled. “My lady.”
Y/N welcomed the challenge; she could sit there for hours, reading and ignoring the handsome knight. She glanced down at her book, ignoring his devilishly handsome smile. “You’ve read that page three times already.” She glared over the top, and he held his hands up in surrender, laughing. “Sorry.”
She looked back down, flipping the page to prove a point. He sighed, standing and walking over to the daisies that bordered the fountain. Picking the fullest one he could find, he stopped in front of the girl, holding it out. “May I?”
“I will not wilt at the sight of you because you are a lord.” She stood, closing her book. “I am not a flower like the thing you hold in your hand.”
He nodded. “You are not.” He raised the daisy, tucking it behind her ear. “You are however, as pretty as one.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she murmured. “You flatter me, my lord.”
“And why shouldn’t I? One should always flatter a beautiful woman when given the chance.” He smiled. “I believe calling me by my name shall suffice as thanks.”
She scoffed, smacking his chest lightly. “You are quite confident, Gwayne.”
“You’ll find-” He stopped, his smile brightening ten fold. “You said my name.”
Y/N nodded, walking away. “I did.”
He followed after, like a lost puppy. “What shall you do with the rest of your day, I wonder?”
She shrugged. “I do not know, but it will most certainly be out of your presence.”
He gasped, holding his chest. “You hurt my heart when you say such things.”
She laughed, stopping and pretending to check him over. “However will you survive?”
“I think it is terminal my lady.”
“And what affliction have you caught, Ser Gwayne?” Y/N forced a giggle back, trying her hardest to behave seriously.
“Lovesickness.” He sighed. “I’m afraid there is no cure.”
She stepped closer, a pink dusting her cheeks. “I shall mourn you then.”
“Well, I’m sure we could-”
“Y/N!”
Gwayne had never hated the Princess Rhaenyra more in his life than that moment. She was a generally tolerable girl, and a good friend to his sister, but in that moment she stood between him and you, and he wanted nothing more than to tell her to leave. He stepped away from you hesitantly, bowing quickly. “Princess.”
The Targaryen made no effort to hide her humor at the situation. “I apoligize for the intrusion. Alicent and I were about to go to the Sept, and I did not want you to think we left you behind.”
Y/N smiled brightly, waving disapointedly to the knight. “Feel better, my lord.”
Alicent tilted her head, yelling back at her brother. “Better? Are you quite well brother?”
Y/N yet again found herself in the gardens, but this time she was here for the soul purpose of seeing Gwayne. She wore her best dress, had her maid’s put her hair up intricately, and even applied some rouge. Not too much, she wouldn’t want people to think the wrong thing. She was a lady, as Gwayne never ceased to remind her. Sitting carefully on the cushioned chair, she positioned herself towards the entrance, waiting for the familiar mop of auburn hair to peek through. She’d begun to think he wouldn’t show when his familiar tenor broke through the tranquil silence.
“My lady, I thought I would find you here.” She lowered the book, her stomach fluttering when his eyes widened slightly. “You look-”
“Gwayne, I-” They both stopped, laughing at their ill timed words. “It seems that we cannot find a moment of peace.”
He nodded, breaking the distance between them. “I have wanted to tell you something for quite some time now. I cannot seem to summon the words to leave me.” He laughed, but his nerves were evident. “It is just…”
“Yes?” Y/N smiled, hating how nauseous she felt.
“I wanted to say that-”
A loud sob rang through the garden, pulling them out of their haze. Gwayne drew his sword, in case the sob resulted in any trouble. Y/N tried to round the corner before him, but he shook his head, leading her carefully through the hedges.
“Rhaenyra?” Y/N quickly left her place behind Gwayne, rushing to her friends side. “Are you alright?”
“She’s betrayed me. I cannot- I can’t-” The princess looked up, glaring at the knight. “Can we go some place else?”
Y/N nodded, her face visibly disappointed. She walked Rhaenyra out of the gardens, sparing Gwayne one last look, mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry.’
The castle had been throw off it’s axis by the sudden shift within it’s walls. Rhaenyra was no longer speaking to Alicent, which meant Y/N was no longer speaking to Alicent, which meant that the once close knit group of friends were no longer a trio.
It had been that way since they were children, almost ten years ago. Y/N not speaking to Alicent meant she could not speak to Gwayne, or so she assumed. She and Rhaenyra had not talked about it much since the day it was announced, always leaving a sour taste in the Princess’s mouth.
Y/N just wished Rhaenyra could forgive her friend for something she had no control over. The Royal Wedding was tonight, and Rhaenyra had insisted that Y/N walk in with the princess, even though she wasn’t family. When Y/N brought this up, her friend scolded her, saying that ‘My father has insisted, I’m afraid. You are his ward, and he has grown to think of you as his own.’
Now, she sat beside Rhaenyra while the ceremony took place, sneaking glances at the brides brother. Rhaenyra had picked out Y/N's dress herself, saying that she needed something worthy of a princess. She was not one to argue and let the Princess do whatever she wanted as long as she was distracted from the day at hand.
Arm in arm with the Princess, she dreaded when they finally reached the hall and had to congratulate the ‘happy’ couple. Poor Alicent, married at fifteen, was not something she wished on her worst enemy. Especially to a man twenty years your senior. The doors opened wide, the crowd quieting at the sight of the princess and her companion. Among that crowd was Gwayne, staring at her with desperate eyes.
Her cheeks turned pink, quickly breaking the contact. Chatter quickly filled the hall once more as Rhaenyra reached the top of the steps, curtsying quickly. “Congratulations, step-mother. Father.”
Y/N shivered. Rhaenyra's tone was as cold as the Wall. She wanted to curse her friend for making her go after that display. She sunk to the floor, bowing her head. “Many happy returns, My Queen, My King.”
Viserys smiled gratefully. “Thank you Y/N. You have been a loyal friend to my daughter and wife. I shall not forget it.”
The young girl nodded, equally disgusted and horrified at what the king had just said. Surely he realized how immoral it was. “Of course Your Grace. I live to serve and provide assistance to my Princess.”
She released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, sitting down beside Rhaenyra. “Could you at least have tried to be nice?”
“I was.” The princess raised an eyebrow, and Y/N almost laughed, realizing her friend was being serious.
“Of course. A jest, my lady.”
Rhaenyra laughed. “So formal.”
“We are at a wedding, Rhaenyra. It would be inappropriate for me to call you anything other than my lady, by the court's standards.”
“Well I am the princess, and I say you call me Rhaenyra.”
“Very well.” Y/N smiled, taking a large sip of her wine. “This will be an entertaining night.”
Besides the occasional snide comment thrown at the obviously overwhelmed bride, the night had been otherwise peaceful. Y/N tried her best to sway Rhaenyra from attacking the queen outright, and she’d been successful. So far. She’d been in the middle of listening to Rhaenyra’s adventure of gathering the stolen dragon egg from her uncle when a cough interrupted.
“Excuse me, Princess.” The pair turned around to see Gwayne staring at Y/N not Rhaenyra. Odd. He had addressed Rhaenyra, not her. “May I ask the Lady for a dance?”
Y/N widened her eyes, looking in between the two. She was sure Rhaenyra would say no or burst out in flames from having to talk to Alicent’s brother, but she simply nodded her head, going back to her meal. Gwayne extended his hand, leading her to the dancefloor. He whispered as they moved, keeping in mind the intruding ears that surrounded them. “I have missed your company, my lady.”
“I have missed yours as well.”
“I know much has happened since we last spoke, but it has not deterred me. If anything, it has made me realize that I cannot stand to be apart from you.” Her cheeks turned pink for the second time that night.
“You are very kind, Gwayne.”
“Yes, well, it is not hard when you are the one I compliment.” He shook his head. “I am returning to Old Town soon. In two weeks time, after my sister settles into her new life.”
Her heart fell, eyes watering. “I hope your journey is swift.” She gulped, mumbling. “I shall miss you in truth.”
He tilted his head, smiling. If she were not in a public place, she would admonish him for smiling at her pain. “What I mean to say is, I am infatuated with you. And I would like to seek your hand in marriage. From the king of course.”
She gasped, her eyes widening. “I beg your pardon?”
“I would like to marry you.” He spoke softly, now fully grinning. “If you would have me. You do not have to say yes, but I assure you, your affection for me will grow with time.”
“With time? Gwayne, I-” Y/N whispered so quietly she wasn’t even sure she’d spoken. “I have already grown to admire you. Much more than a friend should. That is no concern of mine.”
“Ah.” The knight nodded. “Well, that settles it then.”
“Settles what?”
“We are to be married.”
“Yes, well…” She sighed. “You cannot propose to me at your sister’s wedding. It would be improper.”
“Damn impropriety.” He hissed, twirling you as the dance required. “Praytell, when would be a proper time then?”
“Any other day, my love.”
He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, her face growing red. “Gwayne people are looking.”
He seemingly did not hear her. “My love.”
“If you are going to tease me-”
“You called me, my love.”
“Gwayne…” She whined, gesturing to the prying eyes. “Can we please leave the floor? People will start to wonder…”
“I desperately want to kiss you.”
Thank the Seven the dance ended then. She bowed quickly. “Thank you for the dance, my lord.” Rushing back to her seat, she stared at the table, shock running through her veins.
“Did he propose then?”
Y/N whipped her head over, glaring at her friend. “You knew?”
“Of course I knew. Y/N, I’ve known he was going to propose since I saw him approach you at my mother’s funeral.”
“Rhaenyra, I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever for?”
“I don’t want you to feel betrayed. I had no intention of-”
“Do not apoligize to me.” She placed her hand in Y/N's. “You are my friend. I am happy for you, truly. He is a good man, he will treat you well. I know it.”
“I haven’t said yes, Rhaenyra.”
“Yet.” Her friend laughed. “You haven’t said yes, yet.”
#game of thrones#house of the dragon#team black#team green#alicent hightower#gwayne hightower#gwayne hightower x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#x reader#fanfiction#got#got fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd#fluff#hotd fluff#literature#🪩! fics
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sim jaeyun — “you’re in safe hands”
pairing: s.jy x fem!reader
not proofread, enjoy! (MINORS DNI)
: you can’t handle looking at your boyfriend’s nice and veiny hands without doing anything about it.
cw: SMUT SMUT ALLLL SMUT, everything is consensual, hand kink (obviously), a bit of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, riding, jake calls you princess most of the time, playing with your tits, slight choking, mentions of sending nudes??, lots of whimpers from him, jake slaps your mouth, established relationship, jake has a drivers license woahwoahwoah
—————————-⋆。°✩ ✮⋆˙—————————
you faintly hear the ringtone of your phone through the buzzing in your ear. you slowly open your eyes, let out a sigh and immediately grab your phone to stop that annoying sound.. until you look at the now lit up screen of your phone, that your boyfriend jake is calling you.
you quickly sit up in shock, trying to clear your throat and answering the call, remembering that you were supposed to go on a date today.
“mm..yes my love? how are.. you?” you say, trying your best not to yawn in the middle of your sentence.
you can hear jake laughing at you through the other line. “princess, you’re still sleeping at this hour? i’m sorry for waking you up but.. it’s 4 pm already.” wait.. what?? 4 pm?? you were supposed to meet up 3 hours ago. how is it possible that you slept this long?
“don’t worry.. sunoo told me that he tried calling you since morning and you never answered, so i just let you sleep. instead of lunch.. could we go out to dinner now..?”
“ugh..fuck.. i’m sorry. i didn’t realise i slept that long.. is it okay in 3 hours..? i need to shower..” you reply as you’re massaging your head from the massive headache you got.
“of course love. i’ll come pick you up.. although.. does this mean i get no shower sneak peek??” he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes at his words.
“hold your horses now.. you might get to see me another time.” you smile.
there’s a few awkward seconds of silence, then he decides to hang up so you can get ready.
truth is.. you slept this long because of the hangover you’re having after a longgg night partying with your best friend sunoo. main reason why your headache is also present. —
you hop in the shower, actually debating to send jake a little picture or a video but.. you decide to be a bit of a tease. you just finish your shower and start getting ready.
you get dolled up all for him, putting on a nice laced dress and your favourite ysl lipgloss, that jake bought for you as a present not long ago. you get your phone and keys, locking your huge metal gate. your phone makes a few clicking sounds while you search for jake’s number to call him.
“baby, i’m right in front of my house. i’ll be waiting for you.”
“okay princess, i’m almost there. i can’t wait to see you”
you smile at your phone as you hang up, already seeing the blinding lights of his black suv, stopping right next to you. he gets out the car to check you out for atleast 5 minutes, offering you a kiss and then opening the car door like a true gentleman. you get in the car, the seats all warmed up. “good.” you say in your mind. it’s mildly snowing out, you needed this.
jake sits back in the driver’s seat, getting ready to leave. you turn to look at him while he’s focused on the road and you can’t help but admire him. you would lie if you said that he’s not the hottest man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. with his slick back black hair, a nice black suit hugging his waist while also complementing his eyes.
your eyes suddenly slip to his arms, more specifically his hands. they’re resting on the top of the steering wheel, his fingers so long and pretty, multiple veins following from his forearm up to the back of his hand. that scenery alone made you squeeze your thighs together, knowing you couldn’t act on it here..
there is only one thing you thought about on that silent car ride, his long fingers inside you. you needed that more than anything. right now. instead, you try to look the other way, your body as stiff as a rock.
jake looks at you for a split second wondering why you’re moving around in your seat so much. he smiles, reaching out one hand to place on your inner left thigh. “what’s wrong love? are you uncomfortable?”
you thought you would let out a moan right there, right as he placed his hand on your inner thigh. you quickly shake your head left and right trying to diffuse the situation. you accidentally look downwards at your lap, and see that same hand, now grasping the soft skin of your thigh, one vein getting more prominent with each squeeze.
you continue through this hell for a few more minutes until you arrive, exhaling when he gets his hand off you.
. . . you get to your table, through the reservation that jake made previously. the place is pretty packed for a high end restaurant like this one. you’re both making small talk, asking how your day was and.. what plans you have for tonight.. he’s flipping through the menu and all you can stare at are those hands. you begin to breathe more rapidly, getting impatient.
“who cares about food right now? all i want are those fingers in my mouth” you think, trying not to slap yourself from the realisation of what you just almost said out loud.
still, you finish eating, he pays with his black card of course. even though you keep insisting that you want to pitch in. he loves spoiling you every time and all you can give him in return are kisses or.. something more.
after another few excruciating minutes in that car, you arrive back at your home. jake sits down on the couch, manspreading while you take your shoes off.
“thank you my love.. the dinner was amazing. what can i do to repay you?” he plasters on a confused look on his face, almost replying with “you don’t have to repay me” but.. seeing how beautiful you were for him.. how you looked and how you got ready all for him.. made him needy. in a blink of an eye. he knew he was lucky dating you, and the thought that you were all his made him so excited.
“hmm.. there might be something you can do for me princess. you think i’m stupid? i saw how you were drooling over my hands. you really love them huh?”
you get a bit embarrassed, but you’re way too horny to deny anything right now. “yeah.. i really do… i need them. please.” you say already biting your bottom lip.
you can see him slowly form a grin on his face, not saying a word. he pats his thigh two times, to show you the seat you’ll have for the rest of the night.
you eagerly walk up to him and take off your coat to take your seat on his lap. he pulls you into a kiss that turns into a make out session. he travels his hands down to your waist, and you move yours to hold onto his shoulders. you don’t pull away from his lips for a long time, the taste keeping you addicted.
he makes you pull away at one point, smiling at you. he takes his own coat off, having only a white satin shirt underneath. two buttons of the shirt are already undone, showing his chest real well.. with a nod from him as agreement, you begin unbuttoning his shirt, in a few seconds leaving him shirtless. you saw those abs and muscles countless times yet.. it still makes your body have a reaction you can’t explain.
he softly tugs on your dress while whining and pouting. you laugh at his pouty face, finding him so adorable yet so demanding. “go ahead”, quiet words leave your mouth while looking into his eyes.
he does not hesitate. he takes off that dress almost ripping it off out of excitement, leaving you in your underwear. he uses his middle and ring finger to open your mouth, shoving them in and wetting them with your saliva. you suck on his fingers a bit, getting to be a bit of a show-off.
he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, taking off your panties now. he immediately starts rubbing your clit first, flicking it a bit and getting it all wet.. then he moves down to your folds, moving his fingers back and forth. you grab onto one of his shoulders for support, digging your nails in it.
“l..love please.. put them in..”
he does exactly as he’s told. he shoves both fingers inside you, slowly pumping them in and out.. you’re rapidly losing your mind, this is everything you wished for. you grab onto his wrist with your other hand, trying to make him keep going but.. to no avail.
he stops, giving you a signal to ride his fingers instead. you get into position, trying your best to move your hips back and forth. you moaned feeling his fingers in you, not being able to resist anymore already. when he curls his fingers up inside you, he was almost convinced you were about to cum.
you ride his fingers as well as you can, trying to get on his good side. he’s not quite satisfied with your pace, so he gives you a slap over the mouth. “ride them faster princess, what’s up? tired already?” you’re fucked up as is, his words are making this WAY harder for you. the moans are getting more and more consistent, figuring that you’re going to cum soon.
“okay slut, slow down now. i don’t want you to get too tired. i’ll make you bounce on my cock just like this if you’re a good girl for me.” but… you don’t slow down. with how much energy you have left, you keep going. “ahh..i need to cum..first..plea..” he cuts you off, his tone getting more irritated.
“oh? you wanna cum? let me help you cum then whore.” he grabs onto your neck, choking you ever so slightly while fucking you with his fingers. he’s moving his hand as fast as he can trying to make you cum. you moan uncontrollably at this point, getting so close to your release and not being able to talk properly from the choking.
you do end up cumming all over his veiny fingers and pants. the grasp on your neck loosens, leaving a red mark around it.
“mmm.. since i stretched you out so well with my fingers.. how about we put that to good use?” he smiles, that smile being far away from innocent. you know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give him that.
you catch up your breath, grabbing onto his shoulders again. “let me ride you then.” you reply, trying to be as nonchalant as you can.
you move your hands down to his pants, slowly slipping them off him. the bulge in his boxers is huge, obviously you already knew that but the thought didn’t comfort you. he’s usually hard to take in, now imagine being all fucked up and having to ride him. you let out a small scared sigh, while taking his boxers off too.
his cock springs up immediately and you lick your lips looking at it. you grab the base to stroke it a few times, before getting into position to ride him. you intertwine your fingers with his as you slowly go down on him. you almost feel like giving out when you take him all in but you need to make him feel good.
you slowly start riding him, his size almost being unbearable to take. he loves it though, he loves how you struggle to take him and how that small bulge appears in your stomach everytime you bounce up and down. he grabs and pulls on your hair just to make you speed up, teasing you with that hair pull each time he feels you slowed down.
you pick up your pace significantly, moving up and down, back and forth on him. your eyes roll back from the pleasure and it really feels like he’s splitting you into two. he stops holding hands to take your tits out of your bra just to fondle them a bit. he’s running his thumb all over your nipples, sending you shivers down your spine.
“such a good girl.” he remarks, coming from him this is a compliment. you smile at his words, motivating you to keep going. he’s very deep inside you right now, any sudden movement almost making you cum a second time..
you can hear him getting more vocal over time, he’s whimpering and cooing.. the usual tough guy that would control every movement of yours, is now getting so vocal.. you love it though, your favourite part of it might just be his moans.
you clench your teeth and force yourself to go as fast as you can, just to make him cum.
“fffuck…. princess hold.. on.. i’m close..” just music to your ears. you want to let this man fill you up right now. you push yourself even more to overstimulation just to make him cum.
he lets out a whimpery moan getting so close already.
“cum.. inside me.. please my love..”
those are the last words you can say before he cums all in you. he’s filling you up to the brim and you can do is smile, feeling his cum leaking out of you. you give him a sweet kiss on the lips then on the nose.
“fucking hell… maybe we should go out to dinner more often hm?”
you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “you’re so cute.. now, wanna join me in the shower? no games this time.”
“waittt.. so this is why you didn’t send anything from your shower today.. let’s go for another round baby. what do you think?” he says, hugging your waist.
“hmmm.. maybeee. if you use those hands of yours again.”
“well, you know you’re in safe hands with me.”
#enhypen hard hours#enhypen#enhypen smut#jake sim#sim jaeyun#jake smut#jake hard thoughts#sim jake#kpop bg#kpop
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pick a pile - what does your fs love about you?
hi dear reader! let's see what your future romantic partner loves about you. pls remember that this is a general reading so not everything will apply to everyone! breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪
➳❥ pile 1
your fs loves the way you balance these two sides within you; the fun-loving and joyful side, and responsible and reliable side. i feel strong sagittarius or aquarius energy in terms of your ability to detach from others and just live in your own world, according to your own terms, but also carrying a sense of responsibility within you, especially concerning your work or finances. it's very much giving “yes i work my ass off, not for anyone else, but for my own satisfaction” there might be some earth influence giving you this sense of groundedness when it comes to the things you deem as important for your own life. you just know what you want for yourself.
your fs will definitely love the way you can switch into focus and work-mode when you need to. they themselves might be a bit of a work-horse, someone who can often bury themselves in work. they feel like you're such an interesting person though, and might wonder how you manage to be so multi-facetted, because i do believe you're good at keeping your work-life balance in check, probably better than them.
i feel like they might have a more conservative approach or more traditional belief-system in place, that you have the potential to make them question. you seem to be someone with more of a progressive mindset in life, and your fs is likely to feel quite intrigued by that.
one major thing that keeps coming through for me, is how they love the thought of being the one who can break down your potential walls. although you can have your outgoing moments, some people might think they're closer to you than they actually are. you give off such an independent vibe, you're just not someone who's overly concerned over being romantically involved or surrounded by people all the time, and might moreso enjoy having your own freedom.
i feel like this person is someone who's gonna be very consistent in their efforts to get to you, because they're aware of what a special and unique person you are. they just feel like they wouldn't be able to find anyone like you again, so they're absolutely willing to chase you if it means receiving your approval and your love as a reward in the end.
you just give me this vibe of someone who enjoys letting someone chase you for a little; you just need to feel someone's sincerity and genuine interest, and might feel like patience and consistency is a way for them to prove it.
your fs might've thought about marrying you very early on, they might've fantasised about it quite quickly after meeting you. you either might be oblivious to this, as they're giving strong “friends” vibes here, or you're yet to meet them; i do believe it's likely for you to meet them through your friends or acquaintances though, maybe even during a party. i think you might not see this connection as romantic at all for a good while, while again, this person could already be thinking about you as marriage material. some of you might even meet this person either online, or overseas. they might be a foreigner. there's a clear difference in views, culture, belief systems.
a cute aspect; some of you might communicate in a unique manner first. even if you do not speak each other's languages, somehow there'll still be this natural and effortless understanding between the both of you. your differences are more likely to attract each other, rather than repulse you.
your fs will love how you aren't afraid to stand up for what you believe in, and how you're the type to defend your stance till the very end. you might even be quite stubborn in some areas you feel strongly about; however, i can feel your fs genuinely liking that about you. you're just not someone who'll be all available and open to everyone out there, and you have your very own strong values and principles in life that you've built over time, and would not back down from for anyone. your fs might've seen you in that defensive and argumentative mode a few times, maybe even experienced it first hand, but it made their attraction for you so much stronger. almost all cliché-like, confirming for them that “this is the person i want to be with.” there's this strong sense of them fantasizing, and feeling like it'd be an actual accomplishment to be with you in the end.
i do feel like you're likely to have the upper hand in this relationship. i don't think your fs is someone overly submissive character-wise, but it's almost like you bring that side out of them naturally. they're willing to cater to you, sincerely wanting to listen to your opinions on things and moreso follow your word, just because they're so infatuated.
it's also likely for them to for example, go on trips with you, although they usually aren't someone who likes travelling; but you manage to bring out a different side in them and expose them to things they're not too familiar with, and vice versa!
i feel like some of your fs' might be younger than you, or just in general more of an emotionally immature type (they might have strong aries or pisces placements, there's some delusional and childlike energy here) and your maturity has potential to draw them to you in a major way.
they just admire how, even though you can definitely have your moments of “oh you will not let me shut up about this!” in the end you don't let things actually get to you that much, and have built thick and immune skin after going through your fair share of challenges and obstacles in life.
i do believe that this relationship has the potential to bring out your more dreamy and youthful side out as well; this might be a factor in which you two balance each other beautifully. like they allow you to look at things in a more idealized manner, help you not to always take things too seriously, whereas you might bring them down to the ground a little more when needed and give them a reality check.
oh let me tell you pile 1, your fs will be so genuinely in love with you, and i can see their infatuation lasting for a good while. they'll feel butterflies at every sight of you, and feel like the world is beautiful again because they get to be with you.
potential messages from your fs for you
“i'm sorry i put my career before you. i'm willing to put in the time & effort now because i don't want to lose you.”
“i'm used to getting my way, but you put me in my place.”
“it was easier to lie than to tell you the truth. i wish i could take it all back.”
➳❥ pile 2
this pile gives me the strongest introvert vibes. i feel like you're also the pile, who's the hardest on yourself. the immediate message i got, which is incredibly sweet, is that your fs will love everything that you don't like about yourself. i heard one direction's “you don't know you're beautiful, and that's what makes you beautiful” in my head. you guys seem to be people who can prefer to just stay in your own little bubble, and live in your mind moreso than the outside world; your fs will take notice of that. i'm getting a lot of “i wonder what they're truly like..” there's this strong feeling of wanting to know you on a deeper level.
i get the feeling this pile is actually genuinely radiant in many eays, and has this strong presence and aura to them, which others take note of, but you yourself might still be unaware of and oblivious to. i don't think you've fully tapped into your potential and confidence just yet. you might even have some suitors who aren't outspoken about how they feel towards you, just because you can give off a more unapproachable vibe. your fs is quite likely to be included here.
they admire the way you're so adamant on just focusing on what needs to get done, concentrating on self-improvement and always striving to be the best version of yourself. they love how you're so perfectionistic, never really feeling fully satisfied, and continuously striving to reach higher levels.
also random, but i feel like some of you guys might have gorgeous and beautifully lucious hair, and some of your fs' might agree with me on that. i keep getting this feeling that they're just admiring you and gushing about you without you even knowing.
i have to say though, you two have the potential to have extremely interesting and deep conversations. i feel like you're the type of person who doesn't really enjoy speaking up a lot, i'm definitely sensing some trust issues, but once you actually get asked or approached by someone you feel like you can trust, you might have the tendency to overshare or trauma dump. i can just see your fs loving to listen to what you have to say, and although it's likely to be majorly consisting of very sincere stories, they'd even be ready to listen to you talk about.. actual nonsense, all day long. they just love seeing you light up and talk from your heart's content.
your fs will love how you aren't shy to be open about the things you've been through once you actually feel comfortable talking about them with someone. it's just part of who you are. like they'll just feel so eager to truly understand you as a person. not just your present, but especially your past and your history; how you came to be the way you are, your past struggles that had a profound impact on you.
life was hard on you, pile 2.. some of you might've had a childhood where you had to grow up faster than others, perhaps you were in a very competitive space or environment early on, or had to face a lot of external influences that threatened you in a way. others might've dealt with a lot of academic pressures, and had to prove themselves very early in life, so much so that you don't know much outside of doing your 200% best all the time. perhaps you grew up with a lot of siblings and had to be the mature one out of them, or your parents were incredibly strict.
either way, your fs will admire your sense of inner maturity and be in awe of how much you've been through for your age. you could be someone who's younger, but has a deep and wise soul, and this is something that's gonna be intriguing them in a major way. like pile 2! 🥹 all i keep sensing is them just wanting.. to genuinely hear what you have to say. they really want you to speak to them, so badly, and they're absolutely willing to listen to you for ages, if only they could.
this is one of the piles, who i feel like might have the deepest and most emotional bonds out of the three. you two just give me this vibe of, bonding over potential shared traumas or past experiences which have shaped you both in a significant manner. there's this major feeling of laying your soul bare, making yourself vulnerable in your most “unattractive” ways, but feeling accepted for it by the other party. i believe this pile might have this surprising and almost overwhelming experience of “wow, somebody.. actually sincerely loves me for everything i am, including my wounds and scars i thought were the most unlovable things about me” it might be an unusual but beautiful feeling you truly deserve.
you guys are so so extremely hard on yourselves, and your fs seems very empathetic, and has the potential to make you feel accepted and unconditionally loved, regardless of your flaws and faults. which i believe, is one of the most beautiful things about intimate relationships. rooting for you, dearly! <3
potential messages from your fs for you
“i was hiding my true feelings from you because i was scared of commitment and i didn't want to lose my freedom.”
“i couldn't give to you like i wanted because i'm still healing from my past.”
➳❥ pile 3
so to start, this pile was a little confusing to me, the energies were all over the place; maybe some of your lives are at a chaotic place right now as well.. bare with me while i try my best to explain. excuse the mess 🥹
this pile is po-wer-ful, to say the least. what's coming through right away, you guys know how to make the best out of situations. i feel like some people who chose this pile might know or might've already been with their fs, doesn't necessarily have to be a romantic connection, but there might've been some sort of emotional involvement. if not on your side, perhaps moreso on theirs. (like you were kinda meh whatever towards them, while they genuinely liked you) strong likelihood for them to be a past acquaintance or friend of yours, perhaps a past fling. nevertheless, your fs is noticing how you're the type of person who took whatever situation happened between you two, and turned the negativity into a fuel for power. i heard “your loss, not mine.”
you're someone who's pretty aware of what you want and need in life, and your fs is impressed about that. i do think you learned to comprehend your personal needs better over time. not only does your fs admire your ability to wholeheartedly welcome and embrace what serves you in life, but also your ability to reject the things that don't serve you in any way; and the way in which you express is it in this strong and clear manner. you seem very fair-minded, nicely balanced sense of judgement here; so you're likely to be good at assessing certain situations and weighing out the pro's and con's, saying no and yes according to what you think is right for yourself.
you aren't a person who is gonna accept, stay put and simply run with injustice because you don't wanna cause any drama. if you need to stir some things up in order to get the justice you deserve.. you will be doing that.
i do feel like you might've caused some other people, potentially your fs, feelings of disappointment before, however they're not able to actually be mad at you in retrospect, because in the end they know you're right. there's some situation here where you had to just turn off your emotions and approach things in a more rational manner. there might've been some direct and straightforward (perhaps a little hurtful for some) communication about certain things you weren't happy about or dissatisfied with, and you just truly felt the need to speak up about.
your fs applauds how you can emotionally detach yourself from people when needed, like literally not give a damn, and act according to your own will. they might feel quite jealous of that, envy it to an extent. like “wow, they really don't allow anyone to tell them what to do.” they see a lot of things they wish they were, in you.
i have a feeling you haven't always been like this, but as you matured, you needed to learn how to assert yourself in a stronger manner. at this point in time, you're very much focused on satisfying yourself on your own, before relying on anyone else to do it, so it's giving your fs this message of “well.. i don't really need you.”
your fs might've not enriched your life anymore, you just felt like things got boring and stale, which is why you cut them off. you simply aren't someone who will beat around the bush and walk on eggshells to please anybody. you prefer honest communication, since that's fair in your eyes.
i believe that this pile's fs is eager to work on themselves more in order to be better for you. they might even be waiting for you two to reunite at some point. there's a clear physical distance here, and a waiting period here.
i truly have the feeling they might feel a little inferior to you, and feel intimidated by you to a degree. you might give off a very proud or almost smug vibe to them, even if you yourself don't see it; your fs seems to view you in that light. almost like you got the good side of things, while they're struggling because of the separation.
they might be going through some situations or conversations they had with you in their head over and over, and wonder where exactly they went wrong. they're wondering how they can improve to not make the same mistake again, and i do think what happened between the two of you sparked a lot of personal and spiritual growth for the both of you.
i do feel like this relationship is likely to be a very slow-burn connection that doesn't develop quickly. i feel like the universe is working hard on showing both of you the signs, and letting you two meet again, but it all appears to be a slower work in progress. it's strongly giving a karmic relationship; there's some clear messages to be learnt here.
potential messages from your fs for you
“i know you are my soulmate. our bond is magnetic. i'm seeing all the signs.”
“i'm going through a lot right now. i need space and time to gather my thoughts.”
“i want a second chance, not being with you is killing me.”
“i keep looking at your pics.”
#kpop tarot#pac reading#pac#tarot reading#tarot community#tarot#personal reading#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a card reading
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Incomparable
fandom: Bridgerton
pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
summary: you don’t fit in quite well with the rest of the ton, but you still manage to catch the eye of the Viscount
note: this is for the girlies with resting bitch face, warning this is a fem!reader as much as i prefer a gender neutral reader, the heteronormative regency society just doesn’t allow it
this was already once posted before on my since deleted blog by my same current name but has been slightly edited :)
It was only one of the first balls of many and you were already regretting your unfortunate position as a newly presented flower of the season. You never thought you had what it took to be this year’s diamond, nor its ruby, nor its pearl, or any jewel for the matter. In your eyes you didn’t have the effortless glimmer that Daphne Bridgerton had last season nor the graceful steps of this season's ingénue, Edwina Sharma.
Of course, you had prepared all your life for this moment like every upper class girl. Knowing all that you should to be presented into society. You sat through the pianoforte lessons and even tried your hand at singing (which was a terrible mistake). You learned to embroider from your mother, much to the dismay of your aching fingers which always manage to burn and go numb far too quickly for her liking. You read all the textbooks even though you much preferred novels, never understanding the point of your tutors' comments about men wanting to marry educated girls. Quickly learning as you grew older and more outspoken that gentlemen like to know a woman is well read, but hardly ever that they use that knowledge in conversation.
But somehow, even after the painstakingly long hours at the modiste getting fitted for new dresses and the even longer time you spent getting into them, none of it was enough. Not the lessons, not the newly dropped hem, not the hours of sitting for your hair to be expertly styled and bejeweled by the finest gems your family had to offer. Still every other lady and her mama have had to comment on how you are so far from even the realm of possibly being considered a diamond. You heard their whispers through the silk and lace of their folding fans as clear as the night.
‘They barely graced the Queen with a smile,”
‘They’ll definitely grow to be a spinster with that face,’
Oh, but this wasn’t only from the women, of course not, they just have the decency to try and say this behind your back. You are well aware of how men love to grace you with their opinion, despite you caring very little for it. They always have the audacity to say these things straight to your somber face as if it would do you any good.
‘You know, you would be slightly prettier if you smiled,’
‘If you would smile, you would seem much more amiable,’
and most recently,
“I am sure more gentlemen would ask for a dance if you didn’t look so miserable, my Lady,”
You had been approached by a well-respected gentlemen named Mr. Hastings when you had escaped your mother’s disapproving clutches to find solace at the refreshments table. Drinking lemonade desperately wishing it were wine. He asked you to dance. Much to your misfortune you couldn’t fain a full dance card as the one clutched in your gloved hand was mockingly empty. This left you enduring a dreadfully boring conversation about his horse, how much it had cost him, how much it is actually worth, and just how incredible this horse was. You quite frankly wished to be anywhere else. As would anyone else you’re sure, but while they may have hid that behind a polite smile you showed your boredom evidently in your downturned lips.
But what would be the point in hiding it? You were tired of the facade that enwrapped these balls and society. Everyone was smiling, but was anyone truly happy? Even then who is happy and just goes around smiling like some loon. You were having a terrible time parading around the room with your mother’s stern grip on your arm showcasing you like a piece of meat, or a show pony— or to be terribly on the nose, Mr. Hastings prized horse.
Then once you had finally escaped her and found peace hoping to blend in to the wallpaper, you have been made to endure small talk and dance with a man you had little interest in. All while he made you listen to his horrendously dull conversation and he had the nerve to ask— no, to want you to not look miserable. This man who looked like molding swiss cheese and only spoke of his horse.
“I beg you pardon, sir?”
“That you look as if you are attending a funeral, my lady,” he says as he spins you following the choreography of the dance, “It is only polite that you smile as we dance.”
His own obviously fake smile is painted across his face, all thin lips and no teeth as he eyes you expectantly waiting for you to obediently heed his suggestion—or more likely it was a sort of social command. Polite society would have deemed you to be all smiles and perfect wit, to ease yourself out of this treacherous conversation you were wormed into with a poised grace or give in to his orders with a sickly sweet smile because it would be rude not to, no?
But no, indeed. You were not going to give in. No matter how many whispered or backhanded compliments you received only on your first night into society. You had seen how your female cousins and older friends had broken their backs to bend to the whims of society. Left behind forgotten ideals to suit their new suitors to get the ring and the wedding that would never even scratch at their fanciful girlish dreams of prince charmings and knights in shining armor. You would not let society break you.
“Well, I would smile if I was having a nice time. Maybe if you said something funny I would laugh or if the conversation was pleasant,” you had stopped dancing now, tired of this day and all the niceties and manners you were to follow.
You stood before him with your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed absolutely seething, “But you are far from pleasant. All you do, sir, is speak of your race horse and how much it is worth to you. If you care so much about your horse, I wonder why you ever wish to marry when all your attention seems to be going to your insipid horse!”
“Why you rude, intolerable girl—”
You didn’t care any more about the staring eyes of the ton or the gasps from appalled mamas. You would have welcomed all of Mr. Hastings angry words to at least hear something real for the first time all day. But instead he is cut short as the figure of a man approaches your side.
“I beg your pardon Mr. Hastings. How dare you raise your voice to a lady, have you no honor or decorum?”
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton stood before the two of you. Chin tilted upwards and shoulders set back in an unspoken challenge with the less titled man in front of you.
His question goes unanswered, but he continues nodding to you, “I believe the Lady makes a very agreeable point, sir. You speak entirely of your horse and nothing else, this would bore any with a brain in the ton.”
You almost would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked. What exactly was the Viscount doing? You hardly ever spoke other than short introductions and nods exchanged while you were in the company of his sister and your friend, Eloise.
But there was not a moment to think on this further as the scene that was forming around you was all too captivating. Mr. Hastings, who it should be mentioned once more felt so prideful of his horse, can be seen visibly shrinking shoulder hunching forward slumping as if he were a little boy who lost a game. He clears his throat, “Well then, I shall take my conversation elsewhere.”
Before he could turn to leave the eldest Bridgerton son stops him, “Sir, you have forgotten to apologize to the Lady,”
Mr. Hasting freezes in his place turning to eye the man and you bite your lip fighting the laugh that threatens to erupt at the odious man whose eyes widen and mouth becomes agape like a fish out of water.
“My apologies,” the words seem to clog at his throat and so he says nothing else. Nodding, “Lord Bridgerton...” and your name before meekly making his way through the crowd, his head down avoiding the gazes of the onlookers.
At this point most of the ton had gone back to their conversations around you, though there were still some lingering eyes as the dance floor had been oddly shaped as you and the Viscount remained standing in part of the appointed area. Anthony notices this and leads you further into the crowd.
Once he finds an agreeable spot he stops turning towards you, “I actually do wish to counter your statement, my lady,” he begins. You expect for a moment to be met with some stern lecture from a man who seems to think he’s entitled to an opinion of you as if he were your father (who you also do not think should have an opinion, but alas it is only 1814). Anthony surprises you however as instead he grins and says, “I actually believe Mr. Hastings would marry his horse if the Queen would allow it.”
And you couldn’t help but laugh, despite all your pride and pettiness to not grace this event or anyone in it with any pleasurable countenance. You laughed loudly tilting your head back, jeweled neck on display even letting out a small snort against your will. When you finally compose yourself, giggles dying down at the thought of Mr. Hastings in a horrid muddy green suit with a horse in a wedding dress, you can’t fight the smile that falls on your lips. Although unnatural to you, the light hearted joke and your vivid imagination make it easy. It lasts for a few seconds before you become very conscious of it as you let your lips fall back to their usual place.
Though if anyone was truly looking for it— which Anthony was— they would see the slight quirk in your lips as you told the Viscount, “It looks like you’ve gained the honor of making me laugh, Mr. Bridgerton.”
“I relish the title, my lady,” he says and you can tell he does from the smile that meets his ears, all teeth and pushed back cheeks. You acknowledge that this might be the realest encounter you have had since your debut. Anthony Bridgerton smiling from ear to ear was a sight to see.
He continues, “But I do have to disagree with the comments I have been hearing tonight. Smile or no smile you present the ladies looking to wed this season with quite the competition.”
“Me? Hardly, did you not hear my Lord, my countenance would never get me a marriage proposal,” you say fiddling with the hem of your gloves at your wrist.
“I would disagree, I think any reasonable man in attendance would be foolish to not see how incomparable you are, my lady.”
Incomparable.
You fight it like you had once your laugh, but you feel the heat spread to your cheeks and the nerves that begin to twist in your stomach. You didn’t need it, but the compliment was well appreciated after a night such as this one.
Giving you no time to compose the fluttering in your chest, Anthony adds, “Any lady who manages to be bold enough to tell Mr. Hasting how insufferable his horse talk is, ranks high in my book.”
“Well you might be the only one, sir,” you try to be as brave as you feel and dare to smile at him, but his gaze causes you to look away bashfully. That is when you notice your mother approaching and wishing not to make a fool in front of the Viscount you excuse yourself, “I do believe my mother has just been informed of the scene I have caused, so if you’ll excuse me.”
But before you can turn to go he calls out your name placing his warm bare hand on your own gloved fingers making you turn back to him.
“Would you save me a dance?”
And despite yourself, Anthony Bridgerton manages again to make you smile, “Of course”.
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Save a Horse🍂
Summary: Wandering around in the apocalypse was hell until you came across a a ranch, finding a injured horse you helped it finding the owner and things getting a little heated with an older cowboy
Pairing: Cowboy Negan Smith x f!reader
Warning: Age gap, reader is in 20s Negan is mid 40s, p in v, praise, virginity lose
Inspired by @lanadelnegan stories🤎
•Masterlist•
The apocalypse hit and everything happened so fast, I was with my family at our farm for some time watching the news, listening to the horror stories on the radio, we thought that we could go unscathed since we hadn’t been affected and that all the food and water we needed was on our land but all that changed one night when a hoard of walkers ran down our farm, my parents were first trying to fight of the walkers, quickly being ripped apart their screams still lingered in my head whenever I thought about them, then it was my two sisters trying to flee but got surrounded taking them down as well, I was lucky enough to get to my truck finding an opening in the walkers and driving away from my home, leaving me all alone on the road
Now it’s been 2 years going from place to place just trying to survive, to find a reason to keep living in this cruel world, I’ve been able to dodge as many walkers as I can, that wasn’t the main problem anymore, the food shortage was what dwindled my hope
My truck had broke down a while back so now I’ve just been wandering on foot, walking through the trees trying to get some shade from Georgia summer heat when I hear a groan and thud, I follow the direction of the whines on a left of what have might caused it, walkers, people, god knows what now a days
Rounding a tree I see a horse laying down on the ground, I approached slowly not wanting to spook it having experience with horses back on the farm, kneeling in front of it petting its soft black mane
“Hey girl, what are you doing out here all alone?” She didn’t look injured she was laying down fine, maybe she just got hot it was one of the hottest days I’ve ever lived in even in Georgia
I took out one of the bottles of water I found poring some of it over her face to help cool her down then poring the rest in a bowl I had in my bag and she was quick to drink it
After some time I stood up taking her lead rope trying to get her to stand up, I couldn’t leave her here all alone for some walkers to eat her alive maybe she came from somewhere near by
Walking through the trees she would occasionally change our course more like she was leading me than I was her until we got to a break in the trees, a ranch in perfect condition, a few horses grazing the field, little sheep’s hoping around, a chicken coop and a cozy little cabin like house right in the middle of the land, a brown bronco truck parked out front
Opening the gate, closing it behind me and the horse so the other animals wouldn’t get out like she did somehow, when a deep voice stopped me in my tracks
“See ya brought Missy back, been wondering where she went off to” coming down the porch steps was a older man, cowboy hat, white shirt, blue jeans and boots, maybe it was the lack of human contact or even interactions but damn was he fine, I didn’t realize he was right infront of me till he cleared his throat breaking me out of my oogling
“Oh yeah, I found her out in the woods she must had heat exhaustion so I gave her some water” my stomach feels like it’s in knots, I haven’t felt like this in so long, he’s said a few words and I’m entranced by him
“A nice and pretty girl might just have to keep ya around darling” he smirked making my knees weak, but I still have my values I’m not just going to jump his bones even though the urge is so strong
“Oh I mean if you’re able to take me in I’ll earn my keep, help around the farm, anything I just…..I can’t stay out there alone any longer” I said praying he’d give me a chance, some hope
“Ya sure you know what you’re doing around a farm?” He asked as he looked me up and down, lingering on my chest
“I grew up on a farm, I know what I’m doing”
“Hmmm well come on in, see where you can stay” I let Missy go so she could run off with the others, following him inside, it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, cute kitchen, wooden accents around the house, he kept walking down a hallways till he stopped at a room waiting for me to go in first, it was cozy, I don’t care if this place was trashy as long as I can be stress free and have someone to keep me company
“You like it?” He asked from the doorway
“I love it, thank you” I said as I sit on the bed letting out a long awaited sigh
“How long were you out there?”
“I don’t know time is hard to keep track of out there, maybe 2 years”
“Damn girl, 2 years did you atleast have someone out there?”
“My farm fell early taking my family with it when the walkers came, so it’s just been me until now”
He gave me a pitiful look it made the blood rush to my cheeks
“Come on darlin, supper should be done, should get some food in you” he said waving me out of the room and Im quick to follow him to the kitchen where I sit at the table as he dishes up some food, fresh food something I haven’t had in well forever it feels like
He sits across from me at the table taking his hat of showing his dark brown hair streaked with some grey, biting my lip to stop myself from fantasizing about running my hands through his hair, pulling on it as I feel his beard scratch against my legs
“So what’s your name darlin, like to call you something other than sweet names” he smirks obviously realizing my constant leering but he didn’t make it easy
“I’m fine with your little names but it’s y/n”
“You got a spark still considering how long you’ve been out there, how old are you even?”
“20 you?”
“Let’s just say I’m old enough to be your father”
“Not a problem for me” I said under my breath
A few weeks went by and I did what I said, working hard around the farm, waking up early to collect eggs from the chicken coop, feeding the horses and sheep, picking any ripe berries from the garden all before he was even up, no different from today, I laid berries on our plates and scrambled some eggs finishing right when he comes out of his room, scruffy hair, boxers and a black tank top showing off his tattoos, yes I earned my keep but the tension between us was growing stronger and stronger everyday, every touch, every long night of staying up talking I have to do something about it
“Morning Negan sleep well?” I asked as he sat across from me, our usual spots since that first day
“Great darlin, would’ve been better if you were next to me all night” he smirked, he’d do this tease me and act like it was nothing but it was something to me especially when I’d stay up late at night touching myself thinking of the things he’d say
“Negan you’re driving me crazy you know that” I said chomping on a strawberry
“You think I don’t hear you?”
“What?” My face flushed, please god don’t let it be what I think it is
“At night, when you think I’m fast asleep, I hear you moaning my name, whimpering when you can’t make yourself finish” he said his voice getting deeper as he leaned further across the table
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I gotta go……..go clean up the hay” I said flustered and completely embarrassed standing up and leaving the house to the barn
OH MY GOD this is so embarrassing, he’s heard me touch my self to him what is wrong with me, it’s only been a week and I can’t control myself, maybe because he’s everything I want, strong sexy makes my knees weak and panties wet, plus I have so much pent up sexual frustration, growing up on a farm and not being allowed to date led to me now, a horny 20 year old fantasizing about a man who generously gave me shelter and food, I’m a mess, a horny mess that wants to ride this man all day long
I get to the barn pitchforking any loose straw back into the pile trying to figure out what I’m suppose to do now, how do I face him again after he’s heard me moan his name
“I can hear your crazy thoughts from here darling” I look to the barn door seeing him dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, his cowboy hat and a brown plaid
“I can’t take it anymore Negan, obviously you know that now, please just……..”
“Just what baby?” He asks his voice deeper again as he gets closer gripping my waist, his hands alone engulfing me
“Just touch me”
He leans down grabbing the back of my thighs lifting me to straddle his hips, my arms wrapped around his shoulders now face to face
“You sure you can handle this sweetheart?”
“I need it, I need you to fuck me please I’ve been so good” I say as he litters my neck with sloppy kisses
“You have, such a good girl for me, guess you deserve a big reward for that” he smirks as he squeezes my ass, laying my down in the hay pile
“Fuck you got me so hard, you know how hard it was to not bust into your room hearing your sweet moans just begging for me to plow this pussy?” He grips the bottom of my sundress hauling it off over my head leaving me in just my panties, my tits completely exposed
Hearing him groan as his hands roam my body, from my hips up my stomach to caress my tits rubbing his thumbs over them making my panties even more soaked
“That feels so good, doesn’t feel like this *fuck* when I try” I whimper my body feeling like it’s on fire
“No one ever make you feel good darling?” He says as he leaves kitten licks against my nipples feeling like lighting shooting from them to my clit, trying to grind against his thigh between my legs
“No, no one’s ever…..”
“No ones ever touched you, you’re a virgin?” He continues to suck hickeys down my stomach stopping at the hem of my panties
“Only you” I moan needing more
“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel good baby” he removed everything he’d wearing going to throw his hat in the pile of clothes but is top him
“Stop!……keep it on”
“You like cowboys? Wanna take a ride?” He smirks as he pulls down my panties leaving us both naked
“I mean I did save your horse, it’s only right to ride the cowboy” I say as I flip him over to straddle his hips, his dick standing big thick and prominent, he’s really gonna stretch me out good
“Oh ya it’s only right” he laughs squeezing my hips hard as he helps me move them back and forth grinding on his dick getting it wet
“I need it please”
“Take your time darling” he says as he lifts me up so I’m hovering right above him feeling his tip gently pushing against me
I slowly push down feeling the pressure and stretch, it hurt god it was way bigger than my two fingers
“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he grunts
“Is it…….is it all in, you’re so big I don’t know if I can take much more” I moan uncontrollably, all this sexual frustration finally breaking free
“Just a little more, come on be a good girl and take it” he helps push me down the rest of the way till I feel his skin flush against my clit
I sigh I relief that I got it all in but the sting isn’t pleasant
“Take your time cowgirl, wanna get you nice and stretched before you try and ride your cowboy” he laughs as he sits up kissing my neck again and rubbing my clit to help distract the pain
“God I can’t wait” I say gripping his shoulders as I start moving up and down, slowly at first feeling him deeper and deeper each time
“Fuck baby this pussy is gonna be the death of me” I take his hat putting it on holding it with one hand just like I would when riding a mechanical bull, bouncing and gyrating fast and harder and deeper feeling him hit that spot where it makes me see stars and screaming his name over and over as I feel that tension build up in my lower stomach
“Come on cowgirl, cum on my dick, make yourself cum, let it out” he says meeting my thrusts over and over driving even deeper
My hearing goes fuzzy feeling like my whole body is lit up with pleasure, it’s never felt this good before doing it by myself, soon feeling a warm liquid shoot up inside me, dripping down in between us making a sticky hot mess
Coming back down to earth from that mind blowing orgasm I feel his hands roaming up and down my back, his chest pressed against mine
“Did I do it right” I moan biting my lip slowly grinding on him
“Damn darling, that was the best fuck of my life, yeah you did it right, look great doing it to, could get us to this” he says laying back in the hay hands behind his head
I sat up feeling him slide out whining when he popped out his cum dripping onto the hay as I lean down against his chest
“I want more”
“Damn baby girl, they were right good girls really are the most frustrated”
We spent the rest of the day in the barn, him taking me in every position imaginable, everyone better than the last until we were exhausted and my pussy ached so good
“Glad you found my horse that day”
“Me too Negan”
I want this man desperately damn, I’m newish to writing this kind of story so if you got any tips lmk
#twd fanfiction#daryl dixion imagine#twd daryl#daryl dixon#twd x reader#twd fluff#twd negan#daryl dixon x reader#negan smith x you#negan#negan x you#negan smut#negan x reader#negan imagine#negan fanfiction#the walking dead negan#negan smith#negan smith x y/n#Negan cowboy#negan smith smut
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best seat in the house.
blame it on the moustache.
eddie diaz x female reader (nickname - blue)
warnings - smut. cursing. I think the word moustache is in this about 500 times.
word count - 3k
authors note - save a horse, ride a… firefighter. we all know I go feral for a pornstache, so it was only a matter of time before this happened.
masterlist. inbox.
You’re going insane.
You’ve been away for two months, on a placement course with the academy. As a trainee EMT, you’ve been lucky enough to earn your place in the 118, the one firehouse that every firefighter and paramedic in Los Angeles covets. With that comes training days and practical exams and occasionally, a two month placement that you’re scored and assessed on.
You passed with flying colours, of course - no one doubted you for a second. You’d expected to cruise back into your firehouse after some time away like you’d never left, everything exactly the same as it was.
Except, you’re going insane.
Eddie Diaz has a moustache.
A full on 80s inspired pornstar brush of a moustache.
It suits his face beautifully, accentuating his dark features and those big brown eyes. It’s made him ten times more attractive - which you didn’t think was even possible. You’ve had a harmless crush on him ever since your first day, and the moustache seems to have accelerated it tenfold.
“Are you okay?”
A heavy arm is slung around you, pulling you into the side of a solid body. You know who it is based on his cologne. You relax into him, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He looks at you skeptically, eyebrows raised.
“Blue.”
“Buck.”
“You’ve been kinda spacey these last couple of days. What’s the deal?”
“There’s no deal. Just tired, I guess.”
“You’d tell me if something was wrong though, right?”
You look up at him, heart melting at the genuine concern in his eyes.
“Of course I would,” you reassure. “Love you.”
“Love you,” he mumbles into your hair, pressing a kiss onto your head. “Even if you are stubborn as hell.”
You chuckle, burrowing further into his side and getting comfortable on the couch. You both sit like that for a while, praying the alarms don’t sound so you can enjoy your peace a little while longer.
“Hey, Blue?”
The source of all of your stress comes striding up the stairs, all bright eyed and gorgeous.
“Eddie.”
He takes a seat on the other side of you, pressing his thigh into yours. You will yourself to take a deep breath and calm down, before he feels all of the tension in your body.
“Chris has been counting down the days until you came back. You wanna come over for dinner tonight? He’s missed you like crazy.”
“I’d love to,” you breathe, grinning at him like an idiot.
He grins right back, squeezing your thigh quickly. You determinedly ignore the way electricity zips through your veins at the action.
“Alright, I’m gonna workout for a while. Let’s hope we don’t get a call when I’m mid weight set,” he laughs, winking at you cheekily before heading down the stairs.
Heat blooms across your chest as you bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from beaming from ear to ear. As soon as he’s gone, Buck grabs both of your shoulders, shaking you like a maniac.
“Oh. My. God.”
“What? Buck, what? Jesus, what?”
You grip onto his wrists, willing him to still his movements.
“That’s what’s gotten into you! It’s Eddie!”
You choke on your words, struggling to get any out - so you punch his leg as hard as you can, giggling when he yelps. Buck swings his arm around your neck, catching you in a headlock and pulling you into his lap. All you can do is try to wriggle out, smacking any of his body parts you can reach. Eventually you separate when you both crash onto the floor, laughing and out of breath.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he pants, lying next to you on the ground.
“Tell you what, Evan?”
“That you’re in love with Eddie.”
Your eyes go wide as your jaw drops open, alarm bells going off in your mind.
“Woah- that’s, yeah, uh… no.”
“Okay, not love, then. But you’ve got the hots for him. Big time.”
You sigh in defeat, head dropping back onto the wooden floor.
“He’s a handsome man.”
“I know,” he agrees. “All of us would agree with you on that.”
You lie in silence for a moment, praying that no one comes up the stairs and finds you here. Buck intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing reassuringly.
“It’s the moustache,” you whisper. “The goddamn moustache.”
“Oh, you like a man with some facial hair?” he smirks, propping himself up on his elbow.
You sit up, leaning back against the sofa and dusting yourself off.
“I do. I like you better when you have a little bit of stubble going on.”
“Noted,” he winks. “You should tell him.”
“Huh?”
“That you like the moustache. He’ll appreciate it.”
“Yeah. No. Not gonna happen.”
“You never know… something good might come of it.”
“Evan. Are you hearing yourself?”
“Loud and clear, Bluey. Listen, you’re a beautiful girl. You tell Eddie you like his moustache… he tells you he likes your entire face… and boom. Fireworks.”
You throw your head back as you cackle, laughing with your full chest.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m just saying! You never know what might happen.”
“And I’m just saying… you’re ridiculous.”
You’re startled suddenly by the bells ringing and lights flashing, both of you jumping up and running down the stairs towards the truck.
“Saved by the bell,” Buck grins, winking at you.
Saved by the bell indeed.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
An evening with Chris is exactly what you need.
Only… that’s not what you get.
“He got invited to a birthday party at the movies last minute. I didn’t have the heart to tell him you were coming over. I should have called, Blue - I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you soothe, kicking off your shoes by the door like you’ve done so many times before. “I brought wine, anyway. Just in case.”
“You’re the best,” he chuckles, heading to the kitchen to get some glasses. “You and I can catch up tonight. I want to know all about your assessments.”
“It wasn’t that exciting, really. Lots of time in a classroom listening to some old dude talking.”
You get comfy on the couch, tucking your legs underneath yourself and happily accepting the glass of wine that Eddie holds out to you. He takes the cushion next to you, turning so his body’s facing yours.
“Did they let you drive the ambulance?”
“Yes! We had driving lessons, which were hilarious. There were some people there I wouldn’t trust to drive a golf cart, never mind an ambulance with a dying patient in.”
He cackles, knocking his knee into yours. All you can think about is how good he smells, all woody and musky and masculine.
You launch into a story about an emergency amputation on a plastic doll to distract yourself, which ends in both of you in fits of laughter, tears dripping down your faces.
The bottle of wine goes down too smoothly over the course of the evening, both of you a little tipsy. You’ve inched closer, legs tangled as you lean into each others sides. You can’t stop giggling, warm and flushed and happy to be in one another’s company.
Eddie’s phone vibrates, both of you scrambling around the cushions to find it. Eventually, he finds it, both of you chuckling at the theatrics of it all.
“Hello? Oh, hi Jenna. Yeah, sure. No worries, that’s fine. Give me a call if he needs anything, alright? Okay, tell him I say goodnight. Thanks, Jenna.”
You raise your eyebrows in question.
“Chris is going to stay the night at Cameron’s. His mom was just checking it’s okay.”
“He’s so grown up now,” you sigh. “Where does the time go?”
“I wish I had the answer to that,” he says as he throws his phone onto the coffee table. “I’ve got no idea.”
You lean against the back of the couch, resting your head on top of your arms. Eddie stares at you with the softest look on his face that you’ve ever seen, mirroring your posture.
“We all missed you,” he murmurs. “The 118 wasn’t the same with you gone.”
“I missed you. All of you. I was counting down the days until I could come back.”
He smiles at you all gentle and honey sweet, and you’re surprised you don’t melt into a liquid on his nice couch. Your heart is thumping against your chest, working overtime to keep you upright and breathing.
It’s never been like this with Eddie. Or maybe it has. You’ve always been able to tamper down your feelings, keep them buried and in check - so much so that a beautiful friendship has blossomed over time. You don’t want to ruin what you’ve built by admitting you’ve got some silly school girl crush on him and his moustache. It’d kill you if you lost him - Christopher too.
“Have you done something different?”
His buttery voice breaks you out of your daydream.
“Hmm?”
“You look… different. In a good way. Beautiful.”
He’s rambling, trying to cover his tracks so it doesn’t look like he’s coming onto you. You smile, shaking your head.
“Thank you, but I don’t think so. Oh wait, I have a new blush on my cheeks. Maybe it’s that?”
“Suits you.”
You bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“If I ask you a question, will you be honest with me, Blue?”
“Always.”
“What do you think of the moustache?”
Oh no. You pause, trying to formulate an appropriate answer quickly.
“I… like it.”
“You don’t sound like you do,” he chuckles.
“No, I do. I like it.”
“I thought you promised to be honest.”
His hand is resting on your knee, settled and comfortable. You’re not sure when he put it there, but you’re not complaining.
“I am being honest.”
“Look me in the eye, then.”
You hadn’t even realised you’d been avoiding him, too busy worrying about keeping your heart rate steady. You finally catch his gaze, those big brown eyes staring straight into your soul.
“Blue?”
“Eds?”
Your voices are low and cautious, careful not to disrupt the atmosphere you’ve created. You’re both wine drunk and warm, giddy off of the happiness of being reunited with one of your best friends.
“Tell me what you really think about the moustache. I trust you to be honest - if you think it’s terrible, I’ll shave it off right now.”
“Don’t shave it,” you say a little too quickly. “I meant it when I said I like it. Promise.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You look good. Fuck, you look good.”
The wine is making you too honest, but it’s too late to turn back now. He wanted the truth… he’ll get the truth.
“Oh. You like it, don’t you?”
He’s got this cocky smirk on his face, arrogant and self assured. You wish you hated it, but you don’t. Unfortunately.
“So what if I like a man with facial hair? Is that a crime?”
“It’s not a crime,” he laughs. “Just didn’t think the pornstache would be your kind of thing.”
“Well I didn’t think it’d be yours either, but here we are.”
He looks at you with nothing but mischief in his eyes, gaze raking up and down your body slowly. A shiver runs down your spine, the hairs on your arms standing up in anticipation. You sit in the quiet for a moment, waiting for Eddie to make the next move - you’re worried that your raging crush means that you’re misreading the atmosphere of the room.
“You wanna take it for a spin?”
Time stands still for a moment, both of you holding your breath.
“I- I- you… Eds, I- what?”
He chuckles all low and slow, like butter wouldn’t melt.
“You wanna take it for a spin?”
You’re looking at him with your jaw hinged open, blinking like a deer in headlights. When you don’t say anything, Eddie speaks again.
“You wanna sit on it?”
You’re quite convinced you’re in another dimension, catapulted into an alternate reality all of a sudden. An alternate reality where Eddie Diaz is… asking you to sit on his face?
“I- what, um… where has that come from?”
You’re only now noticing the blush on his cheeks, unable to tell if it’s from you and the close proximity or the bottle of wine that now sits empty on the coffee table.
“You like the moustache. And I like you.”
He looks almost sheepish, like he didn’t mean to confess out loud.
“I… do like the moustache. And I do like you.”
He grins at you all bold and beautiful, and you can’t help but grin right back.
“I had a dream last month that you sat on my face,” he murmurs, leaning in so he’s talking right into your ear. “I can’t get it out of my head. It’s like it plays on repeat.”
You clear your throat, attempting to get words out.
“Tell me more.”
“It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life. It felt so real, Blue. I swear I could taste you on my tongue when I woke up.”
You’re almost gasping for breath, heart working overtime in your ribcage as you pant.
“Well I guess I better… how did you say it? Take it for a spin?”
He quirks an eyebrow at you to ask are you sure?, which has you smirking at him with nothing but deviance in your eyes.
“It’d be rude not to, Eddie. Seeing as you asked so nicely. And seeing as the universe is sending you psychic, prophetic, sexy dreams about me.”
He doesn’t waste another second, shuffling down the couch so he’s lying flat. When you don’t move, he props himself up on his elbows, looking at you expectantly.
“You can’t sit on my face from all the way over there, Bluebird.”
Laughing in disbelief, you crawl your way up his body, stopping when you’re straddling his waist. You lean down, pausing so you’re nose to nose as you breathe each other in.
“Can I kiss you?”
He looks confused that you’re asking but nods eagerly, softness written all over his face. You kiss him gently, carefully, sweetly. You’re figuring each other out, not wanting to push any boundaries too far too soon.
Eddie slips his tongue into your mouth eagerly, hips bucking up into yours. It’s all teeth and lust carnal need, years of built up longing bubbling to the surface. When you’re both so out of breath you’re lightheaded, you pull away, pecking his lips quickly before standing up to shimmy your shorts and panties down your legs. Eddie looks drunk - not on the wine, but on you.
You climb back on top of him, shuffling up his chest so you’re hovering over his face. You’re completely sure you want this, but there’s a tiny little inkling of anxiety that’s spreading through your veins, lighting up your nerves.
“I’ll take care of you,” he promises, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes. “Always.”
“I know,” you smile, gently moving a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. “Show me what you’ve got, Diaz.”
With that, you quit the hovering and sit down exactly where he wants you, throwing caution to the wind.
Eddie takes it slow at first, taking mental notes. It’s all careful and loving and considered, both of you holding back. He’s kitten licking, sucking gently, savouring the taste of you while he can. Eventually, you get a little impatient, accidentally bucking your hips into his face.
“S’that what you want?” he mumbles from underneath you. “Use me, Blue. Take what you need.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice, as you instantly grind your hips forward. He slips his tongue inside you, your back arching when the gorgeous slope of his nose bumps against your clit.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, tangling your fingers into his hair to use as leverage. “Right there, Eds. Keep doing that.”
He does exactly as he’s told, curling his tongue just right as you rock forwards and backwards, taking control of the situation. He’s groaning beneath you, clearly enjoying this just as much as you are. When you let out a particularly pornographic moan, his hips are bucking up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction.
“Close,” you mumble, fingers tightening in his hair. “So close, Eddie.”
His hold on your thighs only gets firmer, his grip bruising as he digs his fingertips into your flesh. As if he knows you need a little push, he smacks your ass hard with an open palm, the unexpected jolt of it sending you flying into your climax.
Eddie works you through it, tongue never ceasing its movements until you’re tugging him away and shuffling down so you can collapse against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, drawing patterns on any skin he can reach to calm your racing heart. There’s not an inch of space between you, bodies plastered together on his couch.
“You okay?” he’s asking all muffled into the top of your head.
“Never better.”
You feel his laugh rumble through your bones, making you chuckle.
“So… you don’t want me to shave the moustache?”
“You’re annoying,” you grumble, looking up at him with stars in your eyes. “But don’t you dare.”
“Yes ma’am,” he teases, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Loud and clear.”
You’re not sure how long the two of you lie all tangled up on the couch together. It doesn’t matter.
Tonight, you have all the time in the world.
#eddie diaz smut#eddie diaz x reader fluff#eddie diaz x reader#eddie diaz fluff#eddie diaz x reader smut#eddie diaz x you#eddie diaz x y/n#eddie diaz x female reader#eddie diaz imagine#eddie diaz fic#911 smut#911 imagine#911 x reader#911 x reader smut#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley x reader fluff#911 x you#911 fic#911 fanfic#eddie diaz fanfic
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Save A Horse, Yadda Yadda…
pairing: Joel Miller x reader
summary: you find yourself getting distracted by the man next to you. his thick fucking thighs always grabbed your attention
warnings: 18+, smut, thigh riding, slight degradation, bit of dirty talk, reader gets called a good girl, oral (f receiving) but literally for a second, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart)- lemme know if i forgot anything
w.c.: 2k
⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
It was a relatively slow, easy day in Jackson. You had got caught up on house chores, which albeit, there wasn't much to do anyhow. Joel did patrol early in the morning and had the rest the day to wind down, and Ellie was hanging out with Dina.
Flipping through a book, only paying half-attention while you skimmed the pages, you caught yourself stealing glances at Joel who sat beside you on the floral printed couch. He whittled away at a block of wood, working on a new little side project with careful focus. The sound of a sharp blade gliding across the surface of each corner was the only thing that could be heard.
Perhaps that's what was distracting you.
Slow.
Or perhaps it was the way his biceps flexed under that shirt of his, or the way his veins seemed to protrude from the top of his hands and up his forearm with each thought out stroke.
Maybe it was also the way he was sitting with his legs spread, letting the wood shavings and chips fall to the floor that he always promises to 'clean up after.' How his thighs appeared thicker, meatier when he's sat like this in that pair of denim that you innocently, accidentally, shrank just a tad bit when you last did laundry.
Your own thighs clenched together.
Easy.
"Don't hurt yourself now." Joel's low voice brought you out of your stupor with a snap of your head, uttering a small noise of confusion.
"You're thinkin' too hard." Joel clarified, flicking his gaze to you briefly as he swiped another stray chip from his lap.
'Smartass.' You thought before letting out a soft hum in reply and lean back against the couch, closing your book and tossing it onto the coffee table.
There was a beat of silence. Your eyes trailed over Joel's body again, breath hitching with the image of his large, broad frame.
He seemed to have noticed the way you eyed him so hungrily while lost in your thoughts, his gaze following yours to his lap. With a smirk, Joel took the opportunity to spread his legs a bit wider, knee pressing against yours subtly.
You watched and squeeze your thighs together once more.
Gotcha.
"Hey," he murmured before setting his project down on the end table next to him. "What's goin' on in that pretty li'l head'a yours?"
“Nothing,” You answered, the side of your face turning up somewhat with a wince at how quickly you responded.
Joel scoffed and folded his arms over his chest and sat back, head tilting disbelievingly with a cock of his brow, “Yeah? So y’ain’t starin’ at me like some piece’a meat?”
You rubbed at your nose as you felt the all-too-familiar warmth of embarrassment kiss at your face, but you couldn’t deny it. Joel had meat for days under all that clothing. So thick, and big, and-
“Lookit ya! You’re still doin’ it.” Joel gestured a hand towards you, brows drawing together with a shake of his head.
“Am not!”
“Bullshit!”
He turned his head and scratched at his chin, nails scraping the graying facial hair before he looked over at you again. His eyes trailed you up and down, and with a sigh he grabbed at your hips, eliciting a surprised yelp from you, and settled you onto his lap.
“What’re you doing?” You asked, instinctively placing your hands on his shoulders for stability.
“It’s not what I’m doin’,” he muttered and hooked a hand in the bend of your knee, gently making you spread a bit wider, “It’s what you’re doin’.”
Your brows furrowed this time, nose scrunching with confusion. You part your lips to speak, to ask what the hell he’s talking about, but that all quickly went down the drain the moment he had you roll forward.
A soft moan replaced all words instead, your eyes fluttering shut as you ground against him.
“Mhm,” Joel noised, watching you with a stoic mask. “ ‘S’what I thought.”
He kept force-rocking your body, arms flexing and grip tightening.
Back and forth, back and forth.
“Joel,” You panted, eyes screwing shut with a fall of your head.
“Hm? That feel good, baby?” He cooed, voice mockingly sweet. You nod and he watched with a smug look plastered on his face. “Yeah, poor thing jus’ wanted some attention, huh?”
Joel’s cock began to twitch inside his already-too-tight pants- which, by the way, he knew for a fact was your doing- and he unclasped his belt skillfully with one hand, undoing the button and lowered the fly.
“You’re gonna ride my thigh,” He instructed, pulling out his half-hard length from his briefs, “an’ I’ll think about lettin’ ya cum.” His other hand slid down from your hip and to your knee, giving a light squeeze.
Your eyes snapped open. What the fuck does he mean, ‘I’ll think about it’?
“Aht!” He could see the disapproval etched on your features, the way your brain was racking up some counter argument. “Don’t wanna hear it. Y’already lied twice t’me now; so excuse me for not playin’ nice.”
Joel swiped a tongue over his bottom lip before giving his cock a tug, “An’ I think I’m bein’ awfully fuckin’ generous lettin’ you hump my leg like a damn bitch in heat.” His voice was low, almost inaudible as he narrowed his eyes.
With a huff of air, you continue rolling your hips, forward and down. Then you tried moving side-to-side, chasing after a high that wasn’t there. Your body slowed before stilling completely and take in a sharp, frustrated breath.
“I didn’t say stop,” Joel gruffly spoke, eyes piercing into your skull.
“I’m not getting anywhere, Joel,” You complained before letting your head slump into the crook of his neck. What was once a pleasurable feeling, dry-humping his thigh, got uncomfortable fairly quickly with the way the seam from your jeans dug into you.
“Kinda the point, ain’t it?” The man retorted and tilt his head down to take a look at the pitiful frown on your lips. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, feeling his heart soften. Joel was mean, sure, but he wasn’t evil.
Finally, Joel conceded and tapped at your leg, “Alright, get up.”
He held your hands to spot you as you slid off his lap, back to your feet. Then his large fingers worked to get your pants off, helping you shimmy out of the denim. Joel gazed at your lower figure fondly, a faint smile creeping on his face as he hooked his finger into your panties, swiftly tugging them down. The man let out a low whistle at the sight of your slick-coated folds, then leaned in, tongue seeking out your entrance briefly before swiping back up to your clit. Your breathing hitched, legs twitching at the new pleasure making your stomach burn hot, then he pulled away again, not before leaving a delicate kiss under your navel.
“Come on back, honey,” Joel’s voice eased from his stern tone, now more gentle and loving. He guided you back over his thigh and closed a fist around the head of his dick once more. A shudder ran up your spine as your lips came in contact with the fabric of his pants, your arousal already soaking the denim. Before you could start moving again, he gripped your chin in his free hand, lightly squeezing to make your lips part and directed them over his length. “Spit.”
Complying willingly, you let saliva gather in your mouth and drooled all over the head and top of his fingers.
“Good girl,” Joel praised lowly and began stroking himself. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”
Once you got the green light, your hips shifted tentatively before falling into an easy rhythm. An airy sigh pushed past your lips in content as your head fell back into place on Joel’s shoulder. A hand came up to hold it in place, fingers carding through your hair.
“That’s it, baby, jus’ like that.” He murmured, fist tightening around his dick as he watched you greedily get yourself off. Moans and grunts and breathy exhales sounded through the room, along with the wet smacking of Joel’s cock gliding through his hand.
“Actin’ like such a needy slut,” Joel commented, lip curling into a snarl before a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Can’t go two seconds without makin’ a mess’a yourself.” The way Joel went back and forth from degrading to loving then back damn near gave you whiplash.
You mewl into his shirt and clench around air, hips picking up speed while you gripped his bicep. Joel’s thigh was damp with your arousal, the warmth seeping into the fabric and vaguely hitting his skin.
“Or a mess’a me,” He added with a pleased glint in his eyes. You felt his body shake with each passing stroke of his fist. The fact he was getting off to you getting off on him made you shiver with delight. Heat began to build up in your core, stomach fluttering and tightening while goosebumps erupted across your body. You lift your head from his shoulder and crash your lips against his messily; teeth closing, tongues swirling.
You retreat, just enough to speak, “Joel,” the pitch of your voice raised in warning, hips stuttering as your forehead rest against his.
“No,” He denied flatly.
“Joel,” You repeated. Pathetically, Joel thought.
“Gotta learn your lesson somehow,” he countered with an unbothered face, tone lacking sympathy. “If ya wanted some lovin’ y’know ta ask. I’ll take care’a ya.” His own breathing hitched as his thumb swiped over his slit, wiping precum down the underside of his shaft as that close feeling creeped up on him as well.
“But ya didn’t do that, didja? Then you lied-“
“I didn’t wan- fuck- didn’t wanna bother you,” You explained in a hurried slur of your words, throwing your head back while desperately trying to hold off on your orgasm.
Joel’s face softened, but just barely. His tongue clicked, gaze trailing down your neck and to your breasts that subtly bounced with each move of your lower body, then to your pussy gliding back and forth across his denim clad thigh.
Fuck it.
“Okay,” he breathed out with a curt nod and grasped your chin once more, leading you back to face him, “You’re gonna cum- but you’re gonna look at me when ya do, got it?”
You nod against his palm, brows curving inward as your eyelids flutter; the coil on the verge of releasing.
“Repeat it.”
A heavy sigh escaped your lungs, “I look at you wh-when I c- oh, fuck-“ Your eyes widened, cunt clenching as your body convulsed and writhed over top of him.
He smirked proudly when you couldn’t even finish your reply. Your slick spread further over his leg and he relished the feeling. “Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.”
You continue to ride your high out, eyes never leaving Joel’s. His lips press against yours once more, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before pushing it in. Your hands came up to cradle his face while you swallowed down every single moan and grunt leaving Joel’s throat just as he spilled himself into his fist.
Breaths labored, chests heaving, and legs trembling. You break the kiss and smile down at him before planting a quick peck to the bridge of his nose, making him smile.
“I love you,” Joel whispered, wiping the mess off his fingers onto his pants. Eh, they needed to be cleaned anyways.
“I love you,” You say back. He lies down, pulling you on top as he catches his breath. “I’ll wash your jeans for you next time I do laundry.”
He hums softly, closing his eyes and slips his hand under your shirt, soothingly running his nails up and down your back, “Sounds good,” There was a beat, then, “Jus’ don’t shrink them any further.”
⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
thank you for reading <3 and thank you for all the love on my previous fics. for the longest time i never posted any of my stories to tumblr because i felt they weren’t “good enough” haha. it’s genuinely keeping me motivated to keep writing and hone my skill, so please feel free to keep reblogging and/or leaving a comment <3
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#joel miller tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction
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In the Dark
pairing: Aemond x Targaryen!reader [Rhaenyra & Daemon's daughter]
summary: one night, while coming back from the Street of Silk, Aemond runs into an all too familiar figure in the dark. request from @brideofcthulhu10
tags: married reader, targaryen incest, tw: knives, tw: mentions of potential SA
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The Street of Silk was never quiet, but they were usually a bit more subdued this time of night. Aemond had planned for it this way.
Leaving the comfort of the palace to find comfort somewhere else, the prince always snuck out under the cover of darkness and returned just the same. No one the wiser. No one able to catch him and mock that he would be out here with whores instead of in bed with his wife. No one able to know what he was really doing here….
The prince adjusted his cloak to pull around him to make his way back to the secret tunnels of the castle. He rounded the corner and paused as he caught a glimpse of another figure in the streets. Not unusual, but not the usual sort either. Aemond’s good eye scanned the potential witness and noticed that their cloak was made of much finer material than any other in Flea Bottom. Too nice for peasants, though it clearly made efforts to seem plain.
Aemond growled through his teeth as he realized who it was. Even with the cloak, those whisps of silver hair that snuck out of the hood are a dead giveaway. Although Aemond had already memorized the gait. “What are you doing out here?” He hissed at his wife as he appeared behind her like a shadow.
You spun around fast. Wide eyed in startled fear, which quickly faded when you realized it was him. An odd feeling for Aemond, as it was usually the other way round when people realized it was him. “Don’t scare me like that!”
“What are you doing out here?” He repeated, still hissing, but more from the whispering now. “What are you doing outside the castle, alone, at night, without an escort?!” His blood boiled with each new remark to his list. Aemond thought his wife clever for a time, but he would have to rethink that in this lunacy.
You glared at him. “I do not need an escort.” You insisted. “And what are you doing out here? Last you told me; you would be with Ser Cristion for the night.”
The apple of his throat bobbed, but Aemond refused to admit he gulped at the accusations of his wife. True, they were both at fault here. Sneaking out unbeknownst to their people and partner. The only difference was that Aemond’s transgression did not come with the inherited danger a young lady, alone, in the middle of the night had. Your life was not your own now, and Aemond was angry that you were being so careless with it.
“That is immaterial. You do need an escort. What if I had been a stranger in the dark?”
“I can handle myself, Aemond.” You continued to insist. Why did the Gods have to give him such an infuriating woman as a wife? “I’m not the soft petal that other women in the palace are. I’m a Targaryen.”
True, you were not as soft as the other ladies. Rhaenyra may bare bastards left & right, and Daemon may be an opportunistic lech, but they had done right by their daughter. Teaching you to not only be an adequate lady of court, but also a skilled rider, both of dragon & horse, and how to defend yourself. Targaryens were never short of enemies. It was best to be prepared. But their Targaryen jewel had not been trained in the same way Aemond had. More how to hold a knife and properly thrust when the moment came, but not actually overcome a group of attackers if swarmed.
“Targaryen’s bleed just as much as anyone, ābrazȳrys.” Aemond told her. Stepping close. You predictably take a step back away from his ire. “We are not immortal like our beasts. What would you have done if I had been another man? Two men? Twenty?”
Your back eventually hit a walk. Locked on with Aemond’s eye as you felt a swell of fear in your belly at his words. “I…I would run away.”
Aemond cruelly laughed at your answer. “You would outrun twenty men? You’re fast, byka ābrazȳrys,” he remembers the races they had when they were children, before he sprouted to his current height, “but not fast enough to outrun twenty.” He then used that impressive height of his to quell around you. His arm coming up to place his hand against the wall. Blocking one exit. “What would you do if I had been a stranger in the dark?”
There was a tense moment between you. You felt trapped. You have to force your body to stay still and not tremble. “Stop it Aemond.” You hiss as you try to push him away. He’d made his point. Perhaps this was a bad idea. But you would never admit it.
“Who's Aemond?" Your eyes flickered up to him as Aemond’s voice sounded different. Void of the subtle hints of affection he had for you, and stone cold. A blade was suddenly out from by his pocket and by your throat. “I'm just a faceless, masked man in the dark.”
Your back went straight against the wall as you tried to create as much space as possible between you, Aemond, and the knife. “S-Stop it…”
“Make me.” Was his reply. “You’re a strong, capable Targareyn, aren’t you? Make me stop.”
You realize you can’t. You’re too afraid. This was indeed Aemond, your husband who loved you, but your mind kept thinking on what if this wasn’t Aemond. What if this had been a strange man in the dark? What is this wasn’t a test but truly real? An enemy of your mother? An enemy of Aemond? Or just a man like so many in the city who pulled women into dark alleys and forced them to their needs? What if this had been real?
Aemond saw the fear welling up inside you as tears came to your eyes in panic. He put the knife away and leaned in to give you a kiss. His build softening around you as the point had been made and the ‘game’ was over. You cling to Aemond in relief. Like a life raft out to sea. Overcome with emotions you kiss your husband desperately in a manner unbecoming of commoners in an alley, much less royalty.
Aemond kissed you back with equal fervor. Never missing an opportunity to kiss you. Relief also washed over him as well, thinking on the what-ifs if he had not run into you and another man did. What could have happened to you. The prince growled possessively at the thought and ran his hands over your body to claim it from these imaginary brigands. You moaned against his lips. Breasts heaving as you pant against him while his knee slid up between your legs as he bucked against you. “Let us go home issa jorrāelagon.”
You nodded fervently. You just wanted to go home now. Be with your husband. Be in the palace walls. Be safe.
The prince released you and the two of you walked back through the cobblestone streets for the tunnels. “Why are you out here anyway, issa jorrāelagon?” He realized you had never answered him.
“Father told me once of a spot past the Iron Gate that, if you look out at it at sunrise, you can see Valyria.” Aemond resisted the urge to roll his eye. What a ridiculous story. Valryia was leagues away. He’d barely come close to it on Vhagar; though in truth he would never fly near the place after what happened to Princess Aerea. “I know it’s silly, but I wanted to see it.”
“Why now?” He asked. You had lived in King’s Landing on & off for most of your life. Had you wish to see ‘The Valyrian Sun’ (yes, he knew what she was talking about) you could have done so at any time before. Why now, alone, when such danger was about for them?
“In times of trouble, I look to the Old Gods more, like your mother looks to the Seven.” Daemon’s influence, no doubt. Or perhaps it was just her own. Aemond parroted the phrases and did the prayers when asked by his mother, but he would not truly say he was bound to one set or the other. “I thought it might bring me some clarity on things. Some answers.”
“Answers on what?” You don’t answer, which made Aemond suspicious, but he doesn’t pry further. “Why didn’t you just ask me to come with you?”
“I thought you wouldn’t go if I told you it was something my father taught me.”
He frowned. Did you really think him that petty of the man that he wouldn’t go just because Daemon Targaryen taught of it first. “Come. This way.”
You do not have time to react as Aemond took your hand and pulled you down a different alley. “Where are we going?”
“The proper way.” He told you. “You were headed for the Dragon’s Gate. Yet another reason why you need an escort.” You frown at Aemond’s slight but follow after him.
The two of you meet the ‘Valyrian Sun’ together. There is no cast of Old Valyrian in the sun beams, nor any of the answers you seek. But when you turn to look at Aemond amongst the sunrise, you feel some kind of peace. Some kind of answers. “Let’s go home.”
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