#thank you for the request ali and i hope you like it!!

[moodmoodthecrabking]

ruthie and richie mouse moodboard requested by @infected-paul

[pogueprincess]

A Little Wicked

summary: Your captor summons you to his quarters and offers you a deal.

pairing: Aemond x Witch!Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Explicit smut, power imbalance, threatening, reader is Aemond’s prisoner, dubcon, fingering 18+ MDNI

note: Inspired by Alys, of course 💚 but no physical descriptors! Idk how I feel about this but yeah…… Feedback is appreciated!

How did the saying go? When a Targaryen is born, the Gods flipped a coin? A 50/50 chance to ascend to greatness or be destined to descend into madness. It served as a reminder to the great family that dragons or not, they were mortal like everyone else. For the rest of the realm, it served as a warning: The Targaryen’s were a force to be reckoned with. Intimidating, unpredictable. When the Targaryen’s wanted something, only a fool would deny them of it or stand in their way. Aemond Targaryen was no exception to this folklore. He teetered on the brink of insanity majority of the time.

You shivered as you sat in the cold, damp dungeon. The only light came from a small barred window high up on the stone walls. You could hear the faint sound of dripping water and the occasional scurrying of rats. You wondered how long you would be trapped here.

��You, girl!” One of the burly men guarding your cell called, metal keys clanging in his hands.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen has requested an audience.”

You had been waiting this moment since you first arrived: judgement day. What would become of you? Would you be granted mercy? You weren’t even sure how many days had passed since your house was burned to ash and you were thrown in this dungeon.

Once the man unlocked the chain around your wrist, you struggled to rise to your feet, anxiety coursing through your veins.

“Come now, girl. The prince does not like to be kept waiting.

The darkness of the chamber seemed to breathe along with the prince. The room where he took solace was beautiful and spacious, but yet you found it to be almost as eerie as the dungeons. Aemond sat in a large leather chair eagerly awaiting your arrival. Across from him was a small dining table and a wooden bench big enough for two. Without uttering a word, he motioned for you to sit down. You obliged, nodding at him and smoothing your dress as you did so. Before you was a small plate with freshly baked bread and a small goblet of wine.

“You must be hungry,” he stated, “eat.”

Hungry was an understatement, you were starving. You took a rather large bite of the bread, washing it down with the wine. It was the best wine you had ever tasted. You were thankful to have something to calm your nerves.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve summoned you here.”

You swallowed the bread with quickness and wiped your mouth of any possible crumbs.

“That is correct, your grace.”

Aemond leaned forward so that his elbows were touching his knees, a fox-like grin plastered on his face.

“How polite you are,” he noted, “what do you know of me?”

Truth be told, you didn’t know much about Aemond Targaryen. You were aware of his cruelty. You knew that ever since he took over Harrenhal your life had become hell.

“You’re… Aemond Targaryen,” you blurted out, hoping he would not berate you for stating something so obvious. “You’re the second son of the late King Viserys… You were crowned prince regent not long ago, and your dragon is called Vhagar.”

You watched intently as Aemond took a sip of his own wine, silently praying you did not say the wrong thing. His Adam's apple bobbed in the candlelight as he swallowed — the longer you stared at him you realized he was actually quite handsome. Your thoughts of admiration for him were interrupted once he spoke.

“Very good. Now, would you care to know what I know of you?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he stood, striding over to approach where you sat. A knot formed in your stomach as he plopped down next to you, his good eye piercing through you with scrutiny.

“I know that you’re a wet nurse,” he began as his good eye flicked to your breasts so quickly you almost didn’t catch it.

“I know that you are a bastard of House Strong,” the tone of his voice had been laced with venom. You knew he hated your house and you knew he hated bastards. A thin line of sweat began to form on your forehead and your heart raced as you waited for the prince to speak again. Instead he inched closer, his hand ghosting over your thigh.

“As interesting as those facts about you may be, would you like to know the most intriguing of them all?”

Too overwhelmed to speak, you remained silent. Only giving him a simple nod in response.

“I know,” he stated as his large hand now gripped at the flesh of your thigh over your dress, “that you’re a witch.”

His statement made your blood run cold. Aemond’s fingers traced the edge of your jawline, lingering at your pulse point. Your breath hitched once again as his thumb brushed the throbbing vein beneath your skin.

“Isn’t that right, my sweet?”

He was correct. Your late mother had been teaching you magic since you were a young girl. You possessed the gift of foresight, being able to see into the future and the past. However it wasn’t so black and white. You had much to learn before your craft was perfected.

“I am not as powerful as you may have been led to believe, my prince.”

Any doubts you had of yourself, Aemond did not seem to agree on, he did not even acknowledge you. His hand found its way further down and under the skirts of your dress. Large fingers probed between your legs, pressing hard against your clothed sex. You tensed up, your breath leavingyour lungs. Your body betrayed you as you felt arousal blooming within you, dampening your small clothes.

Your mind raced with conflicting emotions as Aemond’s hand ventured deeper, snaking its way beneath the waistband of your undergarments. Fear mingled with desire, leaving you torn between pushing him away and surrendering to the agonizing threat of pleasure that pulsed through your veins. It's not as if you had much of a choice in the matter.

"I believe that we can be of service to one another," he whispered against your neck, licking lightly at the sensitive flesh. Two of his fingers teased at the bud between your legs, pinching at it lightly as they became sticky with your slick. A wave of pleasure rippled through you and you squirmed beneath him. Involuntarily your body jolted forward, allowing him better access to the spot he was exploring.

"Together, I believe we can conquer many obstacles and even achieve success."

You cringed as a moan escaped your lips.

"You shall remain loyal to me and me only," he said as he pushed his fingers inside of you. He chuckled darkly as your body trembled under his touch.

"The practice of your craft is to only be done in my presence," he continued as his fingers pumped in and out of you, stretching you deliciously — almost, but not quite reaching that spongy spot within your walls.

“You will use your powers to the best of your ability and for my benefit and in return, I shall spare you your life.”

Another moan erupted from within you as he hooked his digits up slightly, pressing into the spot you needed him most.

“Do you think you can be a good girl and obey my rules?”

Your cunt began to squeeze around his digits in response to the nickname.

As he grazed the rough patch inside of you and pressed firmly into it, his free hand pushed down on your stomach while he continued to thrust his fingers. You felt your body shake and tremble as your orgasm began to wash over you at an embarrassingly quick pace. Aemond watched in great amusement as you came undone beneath him. In this light you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, your hair unruly and your cheeks flushed crimson. A sight he would never grow tired of.

He removed his fingers from your slick and gave you a minute to gain your composure. You felt a wave of shame crash over your body, unable to look him in the eye. How did you succumb to him so easily? Thought in the back of your mind you had hoped wasn't going to be the last time something of this nature was going to happen.

Aemond used the same two fingers that were inside of you to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“So,” he smirked “do we have a deal?”

“Yes, your grace.”

He informed you that a guard would be taking you to your new quarters as he bade you goodnight.

As you entered your new quarters, you were taken back by the luxury of it all. The walls were made of stone and there was a large, ornate canopy bed in the center, a major upgrade from your own bedroom, and an even bigger upgrade from the dungeons. To your delight, a steaming bath had been drawn for you and a fresh chemise was laid out on the bed.

This was just the beginning of your very complicated relationship with Aemond Targaryen. You were still a prisoner, you were still afraid of what was to come; but there were worse situations you could be in and perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[van-yangyin]

Alie Antennae for All Ages (2 Versions)

Request by @jessykosisimblr This is one of four antennae you request me, and that I will do (are too interesting to make just one!) Tho I will need to do it time by time because of huge number of files I make for each one 😆. Thank you! It has been a lot of fun to make, I hope you and all those who download it, like it. I hope this was exactly what you were looking for! I've made it in two versions because I love idea of metallic and skin versions.

Heart shaped antennas inspired by Alie Lectric in two versions, Metallic as original and Skin. Disclaimer: Antennae can't change color like the real ones when she gets shy, but they look great and you still have a choice of rainbow colors in metallic version.

❤️2 versions: Metallic and Skin (see pictures below) ❤️All ages ～ All genders and agender ❤️Metallic version: 18 swatches | Skin Version: 1 Swatch (Using texture from front forehead and upper head) ❤️Categories: Hat, Occult Brow, Birthmark Face and Mole Right Lip [Some need CAS Unlock to unlock category on some ages] (Feel free to change any category with Sims 4 Studio for your own needs) ❤️Texture for metallic version located in a little part of Bicep R so it can bug with some accessories that use this part of texture, tho that means too that Hat version don't conflict with any accessory that use hat texture. ❤️Base game Compatible ❤️All LODs ❤️separate packages or merged packages ❤️HQ Compatible for Metallic version ❤️Custom Thumbnails ⚠️Known problem: With Skin version if you use a skin detail/makeup/birthmark/etc... that uses part of texture forehead frontal part and/or head, in skin version may appear in this mesh, it may be a problem or interesting things may come up, who knows.

If you download my CC it means your agree with my T.O.U (English/Español/日本語).

～LOD Information～ Metallic/Skin: LOD0: 3312 poly | LOD1: 1652 poly | LOD2: 825 poly | LOD3: 412 poly

~❤️DOWNLOAD LINKS❤️~

※Choose download the one/ones you want the most or only download Merged/All Merged of each category or age or _All Merged of each type※ DO DON'T DOWNLOAD ALL PACKAGES, OTHERWISE YOU WILL HAVE REPEATED FILES (If you don't understand between merged or not merged feel free to ask me)

Metallic Version: ❤️PATREON or SFS❤️ (Always free, no adf|y) Skin Version: ❤️PATREON or SFS❤️ (Always free, no adf|y)

☆BECOME A PATREON | TIP ME ON KO-FI☆ 

Metallic Version:

Skin Version:

Let me know if you find any problem. 🙏❣️

Happy simming! 🍀💛

🛹 You can find me on Patreon | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Ko-Fi | My F.A.Q. 🛹

[pedgito]

Hi Ali!! I love your writing and I was wondering if I can request dom Joel punishing you by riding his boot??

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary | joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots. [3k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, soft dom/sub dynamic, boot-riding, degradation kink, unprotected piv, one (1) face slap, porn with absolutely no plot.

author’s note | original working title for this was new boot goofin' because i can't take myself seriously, idk what this is but enjoy. kel (@beskarandblasters) suggested the actual title for this so thank you babe ♡

↝ other fics | requests? |��ao3 | update blog | fic recs

Three things about Joel you were intensely sure of—he was a strong lover. He loved hard and he cared even harder, always willing to put your needs before his own, even to an unhealthy degree in some cases. Two, he liked to be in charge. With his willingness to put you before him, it also lended him to enjoy the role of being dominant in the right situations. He kept a lot of himself locked up around everyone but you. Through the few years you two have become close and started this relationship—if you could call it that—there’s a solid understanding of each other’s needs. He provides the domineering nature you crave and you subdued yourself to him willingly when he puts the facade on.

At first, it never left the bedroom. You both enjoyed the disguise of the dynamics to make things flow easier, not allow things to stall out so quickly and you had all the proper safety precautions in place to allow you both the happiness you seeked out. But, as most things in your life, they seeped through the cracks and bled out, intermingling with the rest of your daily life.

Sometimes it was just a look when you’d say something in public that was indecent or a comment that made Joel’s face go hot, knowing that despite his openness in public, he was still a very private man. He reserved that side for you and only you. And he did so much for you—not just around Jackson, but in your own home. With him being the lead guy for patrols and having such a…special relationship with him, it lended for more leniency when you weren’t feeling great or needed a break from the hectic energy that patrolling liked to suffocate people with, always on the brink of danger. And Joel was always too handy for his own good—always finding a reason to fix up a broken something in your own small house on the outskirts of Jackson. 

Broken pipe? Fixed. Chair broken? Joel could shape you out a new one in a couple weeks.

Last week he had repainted then entirety of your kitchen cabinets because he thought they were looking a little dull—as if they weren’t run down from years of abandonment and like this wasn’t the fucking apocalypse. Despite that, you felt the urge to thank Joel. And not just thank him.

Properly. With a gift.

But—oh. Third thing, Joel hated gifts.

Despised them.

But, you weren’t always the best listener or rule follower.

A patrol with Tommy had you both scheming up an idea when you bring up the option of gifting something to Joel as a proper offering of appreciation, his hand resting loosely on the rifle slung around his chest, fingers tapping against the butt. 

“Well—you know, there’s a clothing store a few miles east,” Tommy tells you, “Ellie and I found it when we cleared out that hoard a few months back—lotsa clothes and shoes, mostly untouched. We could check that out? I need to grab a few things myself anyways.”

You nod easily, “Yeah—that pair he has is falling apart. It drives me insane.”

“Joel doesn’t like to let go of things easily,” Tommy comments broadly, “He’ll make do with what he’s got until it falls apart.”

“Well, he doesn’t take no for an answer when I tell him to stop helpin’ me so he’s gonna have to suck it up just this once.” You smile slightly, earning a soft chuckle from Tommy.

You hoped it would go over well—because Joel did need new boots and there was little harm in an innocent gift…right?

–

Joel is brimming with an energy that only accompanied him after long patrols, the ones that lasted a few days and kept him away. Away from his home, away from you. He doesn’t even attempt the trek toward his own house, rather taking the first right and beelining for your small house at the end of the neighborhood, squeezing his leather covered hands into fists.

He’s anxious, pent up—not with anger or rage, but just a need to release some built up stress. Fortunately, he knew the perfect way to do that. His boots squeak against the hardwood of your front deck, the tattered rubber around the toe of his boot hanging on by a thread as he kicks it gently into the base of the door softly, idle as he busies his mind and prays that you’re still awake.

You’ve been waiting for him all day, his gift hidden away safely as you yank the door open excitedly, nearly tripping over your own pair of haphazardly thrown shoes on the floor.

Joel lets out a soft oof as he catches you, chuckling at your bright and beaming smile.

“Someone’s excited,” Joel chides playfully, though his voice is gruff. He sounds tired, looks it too, “been missin’ me, baby?”

You nod immediately, “So much,” You press a gentle kiss to his lips as he kicks the front door closed with his foot, slowly removing his layers—thick coat falling first, then his thinner jacket he wore underneath to leave him in a thick thermal, his skin still prickling with the winter chill but quickly warming underneath your touch, “everything go okay?”

“Yeah—just a bad storm comin’ in,” Joel explains, ignoring how distracted you were, allowing the soft pecks to his skin as you pulled away, slowly inserting yourself into his line of sight, mischievous grin plastered across your face, “—what are you up to, darlin’?

“Got a surprise for you,” You tease playfully, feeling his thick, calloused fingers slip under the thin material of your shirt, subconsciously seeking some contact with you, “can you go sit on the couch and close your eyes?”

Joel didn’t take too well to surprises, but he trusts you. So, he nods quietly, though there’s a slight hesitance to him as he takes a seat on the couch, slowly unlacing his boots in your absence to relieve some pressure but not taking them off completely, the tongue of the boot hanging lifelessly over his even more pathetic looking laces.

He can hear your soft footsteps as they approach, bare feet against the wood flooring as the couch dips slightly and he feels something hard and solid pressed into his hands.

“Okay, open ‘em,” You tell him gently, watching as he blinks his eyes open, expression mostly unchanging—it wasn’t unlike him to have little reaction, but it did worry you slightly, “—surprise?”

Okay, terrible idea. Got it.

“Darlin’,” God, you’ve heard that tone before, body tensing slightly, “I thought I told you I don’t need nothin’ in return from you.”

“Joel—you’re constantly helping me,” You argue softly, “it’s the least I could do. Plus, you need a new pair.”

“That’s not the point,” Joel tells you, “I do that stuff ‘cause I like knowin’ you’re comfortable, that you don’t have anything to worry about while I’m away.”

“And I worry about you too,” You interject quickly, “Joel—it’s just a gift, it’s okay.”

Joel places them on the table in front of him silently, contemplating thoughtfully.

He’s made it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t like things in return. That he does these things without the expectation of anything in return, but he appreciates the gesture. Joel isn’t used to people caring for him and it feels odd to allow it. And he sees the nervous energy inside of you brimming, like you’ve made a bad choice and you deserve the punishment.

 Almost begged for it. 

Your fists curl nervously in your lap, waiting for any sign that Joel had to offer.

And when he doesn’t respond, you find yourself curling into him out of instinct. Thighs spreading out over his lap as his hands follow the trail from your knees, up your thighs, until his thumbs are settling in the crease of your pelvis. You attempt a gentle kiss, but he’s reluctant to return it.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask quietly, a genuine curiosity in your voice.

Joel shakes his head slightly, but the hand guiding its way around your neck tells a different story, his fingertips rubbing against the softness of your jawline, forcing you to look at him properly.

“Nothin’ wrong, but I do think I need to remind you of somethin’,” Joel explains in a soft, but demeaning tone, “that when I tell you I can provide for you and don’t need anything in return—that I mean that.”

You wait with baited breath, blinking rapidly at how hot his breath feels against your skin, feeling your cunt throb with need, with an insatiable want for him.

“And since you wanna buy me a new pair of boots—well,” Joel chuckles darkly, feeling your fingers tighten into the thick fabric of his thermal, “you’re gonna have to help me break ‘em in.”

You look at him, perplexed. But, his pupils dilate under your gaze, the subtle shifting as he kicks off his old, tattered boots as nods subtly to the new pair behind you.

You sigh breathily, “Huh—Oh, you want me to—”

“Ride my boot, baby,” He tells you clearly, “Seein’ as it is my gift and all.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you slipped from his lap, table skidding back deftly in the process—you grab for the new pair of work boots but Joel is quickly grabbing your face again, squeezing your cheeks sharply.

“Undress first.” Joel says, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he lets you go.

So, you do—layer by layer until you reach your bra, unhooking it with nimble fingers as he slips on his new boots. If this were anyone else, you would feel ridiculous. But, with Joel, there was something there, brewing on the surface. He respected you, but he also needed you to understand.

It was a little humiliating, but it wasn’t the worst thing.

Your fingers edge along the hem of your underwear when Joel stops your hands, “Keep those on.” He utters, his fingers dragging softly against the front of the cotton material until he’s cupping your pussy in his palm, soft wet spot growing in the fabric where his fingertips drag across—you’re enjoying this, clearly.

You lower yourself slowly, straddling his left leg with your knees tucked against the bottom of the couch he sat on, pressing your cunt against the cold leather of his steel-toed boot.

Joel relaxes then, arms spread wide over the back of the couch, fingers gripping loosely into the cushion. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” Joel comforts, sensing your brimming nervousness as your fingers trailed along his calf, the hard press of his boot right against your core and if you tried hard enough, it wouldn’t take long at all—knowing that even just a little bit of encouragement from Joel and friction could have you coming undone. But, he wants you to work for it.

You start slow, a subtle grind of your hips that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You sigh softly at the relief, noticing the slowly growing smirk on Joel’s face that you’re trying to avoid, eyes falling shut slowly as you tip your head back, allowing a slow rhythm to start.

“Feels good?” Joel wonders, “Like the idea of me carryin’ somethin’ of you around with me?”

In more ways than one—by a simple gift from the kindness of your heart, but also the desperation of the slick that damped your underwear and painted a perfect mess over his boot.

You nod quietly, moaning softly as you angle your hips to allow the drag of your clit over the solidness of the boot, friction sending your eyes rolling back in your head, hands fisting into the thick denim and selfishly using it for leverage as you quickened your pace. 

“That’s right, baby—want you to think about coming all over my boot for me,” Joel encourages, “can you do that?”

Truthfully, you were holding back. Seeing just how much you could get out of him.

But, Joel catches onto your game.

“You need a little encouragement?” Joel asks curiously, chin cupped in his strong grip, nodding obediently. “Think you deserve that, baby?”

“Please—please, Joel.” You beg, “Fuck—please, I’ll do—”

“Don’t say anything, darlin’.” He warns, “Not when you don’t know what that means for you.”

He keeps your eyes locked on his, squeezing your cheeks gently when you start to fade, the slowly building tingle in your core that wasn’t as easily ignorable now, coiled in your belly and ready to explode. You lose yourself for a brief second, hand fisting into the slack bunch of denim atop his thigh, earning a dull but stern slap to your cheek to bring your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, baby,” Joel coos, fisting the hard line of his cock under the strained denim with his free hand, looking slightly pained at how much he was holding back himself, “look at you—always eager to please, huh?”

You roll your eyes slightly—and Joel really doesn’t like that. His hand cradling the base of your neck as he holds you still, body pulled just centimeters away from his boot, leaving your pussy throbbing with a lack of contact that your body craved.

“Now you just look a little pathetic, don’t you?” Joel asks, “All needy for my fuckin’ boot—got her beggin’ for it, don’t I?” And you know he’s not addressing you directly, rather the pool of your own slick, shiny wetness on the toe of his boot that gives you away.

 He nudges it against your clit gently, earning a soft whine as you hips instinctively seek for friction—Joel takes a slightly more firmer stance, head cradling both of his hands as he holds you prisoner in his gaze, two thick fingers slipping into your open mouth and grinning at how pathetically and greedily you suck on the digits without having to be told, removing them with a loud pop and a thin string of spit that connects you to him.

And if he was a stronger man, he could hold off. But, he’s so weak around you he can’t even hide it. He lets go in an instant, reaching for the front of his own jeans as he shoves them down his hips until he can manage to slip his cock out over his underwear, fisting himself in an instant.

Staving himself on patrols was torture when all he could think about was you—so he knows it won’t take much. Hell, he’s surprised with how long he’s been able to hold off now.

You admire with a haughty gaze, slowly resting back against the base of his boot, watching his free hand slip under his heavy sack, massaging as he jerks his fist without much rhythm, blinded by his own selfish need for release.

“Keep goin’,” He encourages through a tight breath, “but don’t fuckin’ come, darlin’.”

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing, wishing that it was his cock stuffed inside of you rather than the plane of his boot pressed against your pussy, the thickness of his fingers alongside the girthiness of his cock a blatant reminder of how deeply you felt him in the mornings and even days after, always fucked so throughly it had you reeling and constantly crawling back for more.

He jerks himself selfishly, eyes falling shut as he feels himself dragging too close to the edge, your moans gaining in intensity, knowing how pathetic you would both look to anyone else. But, there was no one to judge you here—and Joel was beyond feeling the need to be assertive, rather just needing you, to be inside you and have you snug around him and crying on his cock.

Joel pulls you out of your daze hastily, manhandling you until you’re back is flat against the couch, quickly shoving his jeans down far enough that they don’t become a hindrance as he pulls your underwear aside and slips inside of you with a solid push of his hips, the slickness of your cunt allowing no resistance as you both groan at how good it feels, eyes connecting for a brief moment before everything goes black…or white. 

Joel isn’t sure what he sees, but it only takes a few minutes of some hurried and desperate pumps of his hips as his cock nudges that particular spot deep inside of you that has you clawing at the bare skin you could reach, leaving red marks on his neck as he snaps his hips with a finality, coming with a low groan that has your legs shaking, bent nearly in half as he still manages to see through his own haze and drag his fingers over your clit—it doesn’t take more than a couple seconds before you're there, spasming around his cock with a sob, gasping at his overstimulating touch as he continues to press and circle your clit until you’re begging him to stop, his hips slowly pumping his cum inside of you.

Joel finds himself laying slack against you, pants down at his ankles as he allows your fingers to thread through his grown out curls from where his head rests against your chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“I appreciate the boots,” He says after a while, “if that wasn’t already obvious.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” You giggle softly.

“Seriously, no more gifts, though.” Joel says sternly, “I mean it.”

You pout slightly and Joel catches it, his eyes flicking up to look at you.

“I’m makin’ no promises to that.” You tell him truthfully.

Joel chuckles softly, “Can’t say I expected you to, either.”

[peachesofteal]

John Price/female reader The Ocean Anthology

It’s a hollow knock that pulls you from sleep.

The Ranger is standing on the slanted slats of your front porch, Aly in his arms, cradled to his chest. Her too long legs hang over in a heap, face sweet and soft, spun in the silken bliss of sleep.

“John.” His name is a croak, a splinter of confusion on your tongue. It’s four in the morning.

“Sorry to wake you,” he shifts his daughter’s weight, and you shake your head wordlessly, “there’s a problem, up at the forestry camp. Normally Mari would…” his mouth twitches, trailing off, sequencing into a helpless, silent request.

��Of course.” Frigid air spills around his shoulders, curling into your living room, and you press the door firm after him, turning to where he lowers Aly onto the couch, broad palm sweeping over forehead and tucking her in her blanket, plus yours.

“She’ll be no trouble.” He murmurs, shoulders rolled back.

“Sure, yeah. It’s fine.” You whisper, following his lead to the door, standing in his shadow.

“I’ll be back, before it’s time for her to start school. And she can handle herself for breakfast.” Rough hands cradle your elbows, cracked callouses and torn skin snagging on the flimsy cotton of your long sleeve t shirt.

Aly truly is, no trouble. Once she's up, rubs the crystal sleep from her eyes and orients, she hops off your couch and into the kitchen where you're at the table with a hot mug.

"Breakfast?" Hopeful eyes glance at your pantry. "Got stuff to make pancakes in there?" You laugh.

"You want pancakes?" She shifts her weight, bashful.

"Dad doesn't let me have them much."

"Alrighty. Let's make some pancakes then."

You manage a too tall stack of fluffy pancakes before there's a knock at your front door. Aly, like any child, wanted chocolate chips in hers, but she settled for blueberry, and just as she's about to have her first bite, cold wind whips through the house like a lash.

"Hi." Fuck. Is he going to be mad you made his kid pancakes? He evaluates the table, sweeping gaze traveling from Aly back to you, leisurely rolling up from your toes.

You ignore the clench in your stomach.

"Those look good."

"Oh, uh... you want-"

"Blueberry?" At this, Aly's fork freezes, eyes darting from her plate to her father before turning back to breakfast.

"Y-yeah. Didn't have chocolate chips, and plain pancakes are kind of boring." His mouth twitches, sloping to one side with a furrow of his brow, chord of sadness striking his irises. There one second, then gone. A warm breeze of the cusp of summer’s end, something you can’t quite catch. You think he’s going to ignore you, the moment suspended in the void of your kitchen, batter caked bowl and whisk shuffled haphazardly towards the sink, splatters of it on the tile. He hums.

“Good choice.” The flannel is nearly too small for him, clinging to his shoulder, the breadth of his body, thick forearms stretching the buttons where the cuffs are rolled up to the elbows. You're tongue-tied in the passing silence, before he puts you out of your misery. "You've got something," a thumb to the corner of his own mouth, rubbing against something that isn't there, as you stand, lost in a moment of desiderium that slams into you with full force, "here."

He licks his thumb, then he reaches.

He rubs your skin, instead. The corner of your lips. Pasty batter splattered and dried, now gone beneath his circling touch. It's... fatherly, in passing. A short glimpse into the moment would convince you he's being kind, helpful, but the way his venetus gaze lingers on your lips, and rolls up to your eyes... it's more than patriarchal. It's heated, and dark, flashes of secrets and songs you've never heard.

"T-thank you."

"Will you go out today?"

"Oh, uh... yeah I had hoped to."

"In the kayak?" You nod. His lips twitch.

"I'll take you, in the boat." The words he gave you the first time you looked for the Orcas ring in your ears.

"I thought I had to earn it?" A sliver of possession gleams in his eyes.

"You will."

[worldsaparted]

id love to request a slight angsty fic where reader and johnny are best friends and reader likes johnny but johnny still loves ali so then the reader starts ignoring johnny and ends up taking his motorcycle bc she's so upset and gets hurt bc of it and then like johnny being so concerned and upset and ending with like an angsty love confession with him and reader hope this makes sense i really love your writing

I’m so sorry for the wait but thank you for this cute request! I hope I did it right!

The Flowers

It was evident that Johnny Lawrence and Y/n L/n were nearly attached at the hip for as long as they could remember. Their mothers were high school best friends and now - their children were.

It was a sensitive topic to Y/n though, of course Johnny was her best friend - she knew everything about him and he knew everything about her - but maybe the fact that the term best friend was as far as it would ever go did irk her.

As Johnny’s red car pulled to a stop in front of her white and blue house - she rushed out - carrying her belongings in hand as she threw them over and into his convertible, he glanced over from his spot - blasting his favorite cassette tapes and as Y/n took a seat, he gave a small smirk.

“Woke up on time, I see.” He began, and Y/n glanced over - her eyes rolling as she continued to organize her loose belongings.

“Just drive.”

Arriving at school on this particular Friday was quick, and as Johnny pulled to a stop - he handed the keys to Y/n - who was much better at taking care of them than him.

His eyes flickered around before he got out of the car - and he waited for Y/n to begin walking into school.

From any other point of view, you might’ve thought that Johnny Lawrence was head over heels for Y/n, and that Y/n L/n was head over heels for Johnny, and maybe it could’ve been true, but it was constantly denied.

Johnny Lawrence felt he knew where his heart stood, along with Ali Mills who dumped him 7 months ago, his eyes squinted at the sight of her with Daniel LaRusso, and he was quick to glance back over to Y/n when she called out his name - asking for him to zip her backpack up.

They quickly parted their ways for class - and as passing period going to 3rd came - Johnny Lawrence made his way to Y/n’s locker, she stuffed her belongings in, and met his eyes as he leaned his back against the locker just beside hers, he was close - and while she didn’t say anything, she felt it.

He flicked his hair to fix it, he was wearing his newest sweater, paired with his khakis that Y/n helped him pick out from JCPenney. More than that - he wore a deep black eye, and while he hated that he had to walk around with that, Y/n didn’t mind it. She studied his features, admiring them the slightest bit before he turned over, his eyes meeting hers. “Where’s Jenny?” He asked, his eyes glancing around as he asked for Y/n’a friend.

“Not here.” She responded in one breath, her eyes flickering to his lips as he stared off, though slowly - he looked back over.

“You gonna be with anyone at lunch?” He asked, now studying her expression. She was quick to shrug - closing her locker.

“No.”

Johnny thinned his lips and as the minute bell rung - he propped himself up and off of the locker. “I’ll meet you right here.” He spoke bluntly, already switching his binder from one hand to the other before making his way to his 4th period. With a sigh, Y/n shook her head.

“Johnny - ” she began, almost scolding him and the blonde boy gave a simple shrug before turning around - and opening up the double doors.

As lunch approached, and fourth period went by - Y/n sat in her math class, her legs crossed as she tapped her pencil against the desk - it was quiet as the rest of the class finished up their quiz, and she practically yearned for the bell to ring. Once it did, she quickly propped herself up from her desk and made her way out to her own locker.

Johnny Lawrence already stood against it, his eyes searching around - a judgmental look to them until they landed on Y/n. His expression softened, and he began making his way over, bumping those he didn’t like and finally - he stood in front of Y/n and placed his hands on his hips.

She clutched her binder against her chest - glancing up to him every time he spoke as they made their way to the cafeteria - shoulders brushing against eachother. He paid for her lunch along with his own, and they sat across from one another - eating it as they spoke.

His legs softly grazed hers, and he left it there - taking his water and drinking from it as she spoke of her math test, and this was enough. The way he looked at her, and the way his eyes never left her as she spoke - it was evident he loved her and while she couldn’t tell in what way - she admired that.

His protective instincts were up 100 % with her, and she could see that.

He dropped her off at home that day, saying his goodbye and sending his sweet smile as she made her way out.

While her Friday nights never occurred of much, she was excited to be home. She spent the day in her room - and as the sun began to set, she stirred in her seat, her mind stuck in the image of Johnny Lawrence and the feeling of his leg up against hers.

Y/n L/n took deep breaths before she snuck out her own window, it was getting darker and darker but Johnny lived a block away - so she wasn’t bothered with walking. Her breath raced, and she clutched Her fists by her side as she made her way over.

The Lawrence residence was nice and fancy, Y/n slowed to a stop as she turned - nervously sighing before making her way up the steps.

And on the walk over, she decided. She’d tell him. Exactly how she felt about him, she’d break it to him.

As she stepped up and out of the house, Johnny excited his front door - he held a small bouquet of flowers in hand - his eyes landing on Y/n and widening a bit.

Her heart stopped at the sight, was this the perfect timing or was she just the unluckiest girl to walk earth? Her eyes narrowed and she cleared her throat - both of them frozen.

“Where are you..going?” She gestured to his flowers, and Johnny looked down at them, clutching them in hand before turning back to her.

“Gonna go talk to Ali.” He informed, and T/n’s heart sank. It was the second one.

She hid the disappointment and nodded, and at that - Johnny lost a small sense of confidence. He gestured to her now. “What about you? What are you doing here?”

“Well,” she glanced around, gulping nervously and swinging her hands by her sides. “I was gonna ask about seeing your..your bike. I just wanna mess around with it, I won’t go anywhere - I promise.” Her eyes landed on the motorcycle of Johnny’s and he furrowed his brows - looking over to his hike and then to her. To everyone else, he said no. But to Y/n, he’d allow it. He popped back into his house and grabbed the keys, handing them over to her and she took them - holding the keys up.

“Thanks, John.” She smiled, her breath shaky.

“Be careful.” He spoke sternly, making his way to his own car and it took so long for his eyes to leave hers but once they did - he got into his car, and he drove off.

At the sight of him gone, Y/n got onto the bike. Sure he’s guided her sometimes, and sure he taught her lots about these things so she figured why not test it?

As she turned the engine on, her heart began to race and she smiled the slightest bit. Maybe this was why Johnny loved it so much. The thrill.

Riding it was rocky at first, and she did feel out of place, to be riding in an outfit such as this. Her eyes checked the neighborhood frequently as she drove through and it wasn’t til she hit the main streets in which she began going fast.

Now, she was sure she got the hang of it, and she’d tell Johnny she was finally on his level now.

She wore her strongest jacket as it was getting colder out, and the wind blew strongly into her face, causing her to struggle a bit and she paid no attention to that until her altercation. Y/n found complete regret when she nearly crashed and collided with another car - her heart raced and instead of stopping, she steered around. Her eyes were everywhere until she attempted to make a left turn, and there - she was hit.

It was a good few minutes of calming herself down after that small problem with Johnny, but now - she was aching from her leg that clashed against the floor - the motorcycle pressing her down as well.

The last thing she truly remembered was her leg pain - and thankfully, she woke up in the Encino Hospital - she wore her own clothes though her jeans were cut off due to her leg injury. She sat there, and as she stirred awake - she took notice to the empty room.

Her parents had work and probably didn’t know - so she didn’t expect much - though at the sound of an angry boy who was snapping at doctors outside, she knew who her first visitor would be.

“Piss off, man - I know her.” And then, Johnny Lawrence came from the curtains. His eyes softened at the sight of her being okay, but still, he rushed to her side, kneeling down.

“What did you do?” He sounded mad, but also worried. His eyes searched hers and she struggled to find the right words, so she didn’t say anything - instead she gave a shrug.

“Did you do this on purpose? Did I make you mad?”

“Johnny, I’m fine. Nothing happened.”

“Bullshit your legs nearly crushed.” He seethed a bit, and Y/n took a deep breath, inching away from him and as he took notice to that - he calmed himself down. His cheeks were pink and he pulled a chair up, sitting beside her.

“I’m sorry about your bike - ” She said, and when it was silent in response, Y/n groaned. She should have expected for him to be like this, but it the fact that he was disappointed her.

“You’re mad at me?” She scoffed, and Johnny glanced over - nodding quickly. “How are you mad at me? I didn’t mean for this.”

“That’s the point, L/n. You didn’t mean for it but you didn’t think to put some thought into this? You’ve never rode a bike.” He exasperated; his hands were holding onto his knees and he shook his head.

“Are you scolding me right now?”

“Someone has to, right?” He gave her this remark, his voice just as loud as hers and she left her mouth parted - her eyes watering in the slightest, so naturally she looked away.

“If it were Ali Mills right here, would you be scolding her?” She spoke, after one big breath.

“What?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What are you talking about?” His eyes slowly glanced up to her and she shrugged.

“Just a question.”

At this, Johnny’s heart stopped. His eyes were glued onto Y/n and she couldn’t even think to look back over at him, moving up from the chair, he took the extra space on the bed to sit there, facing her and attempting to make eye contact. “What are you talking about?”

Nothing.

Being the hothead he was, Johnny scoffed. His eyes averted from her and he looked up at the ceiling. “Ignore me then - I’ll just go, doesn’t feel like you want me here anyways.”

As he began to stir, getting up - Y/n glanced over - her eyes finally catching his. He stood, but he stayed, his eyes stuck on hers and she took a deep breath.

“Why were you giving Ali flowers?” As she asked this, she looked away once again and he sighed, his hands down by his sides and he blinked before answering.

But he could t give a clear response, he knew what this was about - he knew this subject too well. The longing of being with his best friend was something strong, and as he stammered for a response - her lips curved into a bitter smile.

“Don’t.” He began, pointing at her and she looked over - dropping the smile. “Don’t start with that, because you know why I went to her.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t?” He scoffed.

“No, so tell me. Tell me why she gets those pretty flowers, John. Really, I wanna know.”

He gave a short sigh - shaking his head and he searched for a response before finding one, ranting. “Maybe because i wanted to, hm?”

He began stammering again, this was a record for Johnny Lawrence. In front of him was his girl, his. And he’d say that to himself but as he watched her swoon and distract herself with other guys, he could never think to show that.

“Did you?” Y/n asked, sarcastically, and with the same energy - Johnny responded.

“Yes. I did.” He gave a firm nod; and in the short pause he couldn’t help but switch his point. “You know damn well that I gave her those flowers because you were busy with Ricky for half of high school.”

Then, her heart stopped. She looked over and there Johnny was - his face turning red. “If I can fix things with Ali, why should I ever be jealous of you and the guys you walk with going to 6th? Or the guys that sit next to you in Physics..”

He went on, “Don’t ask me shit you already know the answer to.” He pointed his hand at her, and Y/n’s eyes narrowed - they never fought like this and right now was different. It was scary. But her heart raced and she wanted Johnny to know that she was angry too. Still, she responded with her voice soft.

“I don’t care about guys at school unless they’re you.” Her voice was low, and Johnny’s look of embarrassment and anger slowly faded. “You think I like seeing you fight over another girl? When all I care about is your attention?” Her voice grew louder now and she wanted to keep going - she wanted to get louder.

“When all I want, all I’ve ever wanted is you?!”

As she shook her head, taking a pause Y/n turned and before she could continue - she felt the soft tug on her shirt collar, Johnny was leaning one hand on her bed as he leaned over - and he pulled her lips into his. It was a needy kiss, he kept it rough because they were both pretty worked up and he was gentle when he sat down, moving his hands to cup her face.

He had so much to say as their lips went on against one another’s, but he wouldn’t start anywhere - anywhere other than, “I’m so in love with you.” He said this against her lips and smiled in her grip, she was okay and he softly rubbed circled on her cheeks with his thumb, nodding into the kiss.

[fan-goddess]

Helloooo love! I'm a fan lurking in the dark with a request idea for Aemond x Reader. Would love to see your take on Aemond trying to win Reader back (his wife) after she found out about Alys. Maybe this happens after the "Dance" , Aemond survives and they have to deal with the aftermath of Alys. Reader loved him with everything she had so she feels betrayed and turns cold to him and maybe because of Alys, something also happened to her (idk lost pregnancy perhaps but PLEASE exclude this if you don't feel comfortable writing it). Basically take everything you find interesting from this request and work your magic - I trust you like no other!!! Thank you I send you all the love there is - you are very very talented and please know there are many like me that think you are truly brilliant, I know it!!! :*:*

Authors Note: Oh my god thank you this is so freakin sweet! 🥺 I’m happy to take the request and spin my take on this, hope you enjoy it! :)

Also, some of the stuff Is made up like the time between Daemons death and end of the war. I don’t know it so I made it up. If you don’t like it take it up with my dms

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Cheating, miscarriage though it’s not explicit, she’s kinda depressed? Not sure how to describe it,

Taglist: @blue-serendipity

The Sequels: The Depressive one, The happy One

—————

If Aemond ever regretting not killing anyone throughout the war he technically started, most would’ve immediately assumed that he wished he never killed his nephew. Though they were wrong. Yes, Lucerys’ death became one of the many causes of the war and in turn deaths of so many people, but his death didn’t result in the loss of you and your child.

Alys’ death could’ve though.

When he first met Alys, he had been nearly immediately enraptured and enamoured by had. She was quite different to you. While you had always been headstrong and never afraid to tell Aemond what he needed to do or to be, Alys had been more docile and had no issue in telling Aemond all the things he wanted to hear.

He regretted the first time he laid with Alys in his bed. Though that regret went away the more time he spent with her and the more times he laid with her. He begun to think of possibly taking after Aegon the conqueror, thinking he’d have both you and Alys by his side when Aegon most likely drank himself to death.

That fantasy was soon ruined when he got that letter.

Dear Aemond,

Do you think of me as a fool? I know about that fucking woman Aemond. I know about Alys. I don’t know why you have decided to betray our marriage and honestly, I don’t think care I can bring myself to think about it nor care anymore. This letter was originally going to be happy. A letter letting you know what we prayed near everyday from the seven had finally come true and been answered. I was with child. Our child made purely of what I had thought was love. Though that changed when I was informed of what you had done. I mourned for what we could’ve had. I cried and refused to believe it at first, though soon I came to my senses. Yet it was too late. Our child is dead Aemond. I woke up a few days ago to heavy blood staining our bedsheets. The child was barely two months according to the maester. I wish for you to know it is your fault Aemond. I do not wish to ever see you again. I wish to never hear from you so if you attempt to reconcile or send a letter I will pay for our child’s blood with your own. You have dug your grave Aemond. Don’t try and dig it deeper. If you are to die in battle, I hope it is painful. I hope you suffer like I have.

From, your wife

From your former wife

Aemond had felt his heart plummet to the floor when he read that letter. He could not stop the tears that fell to the floor and stained the letter he still was holding. The ink blotting and staining the page so much the words were becoming near illegible.

He attempted to head into battle with the faint hope that you’d forgive him if he killed his uncle. Though even he knew deep down that no amount of deaths could fix anything. Yet even still he tried. He defeated Daemon, with blood of which Targaryen man he did not know staining and pooling on his ripped armour.

Aemond came home where he was met with his mother and brother, who both congratulated him on his victory. Though even with their congrats he could see the disgust that lingered in his mothers gaze as she looked at him. It made his shame all that more prominent.

He would’ve gone to see you, but Aegon stopped him before he could, claiming he was holding a feast in his name for the defeat of Daemon. He tried to look for you in the amount of people that came, yet he couldn’t. And he didn’t dare ask his mother if you would be coming in fear of her glare and disappointment.

That night he wonders something. Maybe it would’ve been better if he did die by the hand of his uncle? Then it would’ve saved him from all this torture. Though he can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Aemond can only wallow in his drinks that he keeps being given and his own sorrow.

Aemond was back home. The words the maids said echoed in your head. He’s here, and no doubt going to attempt to reconcile. If there was one thing you ever learnt about your husband, was that he never quit at anything he started.

You already made bets with yourself on how he’d attempt to do it.

Maybe he’ll try flowers? No that’s too much of a common move for Aemond to pull… Maybe he’ll bring you some jewellery? No that’d make him feel like he was buying for your forgiveness. Like he was buying something for a mistress. Well… he’s been there and done that…

There is always the chance Aemond will not even attempt to reconcile. Hopefully becoming too overcome by the grief and pain of the loss of his and your child that he’d respect your wishes after reading your own pain on paper. The maids still look at you worriedly, especially when they find you sitting near the window. You know why they worry, you mourned Helaena and Jahaerys and you know you will not become like her.

Aegon was also the one who told you about Alys, and when you lost your child and screamed for the whole of the castle to hear, it was Aegon who ran to you to mourn with you and hold you while you cried for a life you may have been able to have. He held you in the way a brother would hold a sister. He even cried with you and helped clean you of the blood. Oh the blood…

———

It’s been a few long months, but the war between the greens and the blacks is finally over. Aegon is celebrating by holding a massive banquet and all the lord and ladies who supported him are invited. Even though Aemond knows it will not happen, he secretly hopes you will come to celebrate.

Though as he keeps sneaking glances at the door all night he eventually comes to term with the fact you’re not coming. He can only swallow more bitter wine and ignore the fact he’s drinking it like a fish in water now.

He’s attempted to reconcile from a distance ever since the incident but everything he has sent to your chambers has come back in shreds. The flowers from the garden you loved to look after, heads torn from their stems and cut into a thousand pieces. The books he sent on your favourite topic, you had more restraint on them and simply chucked them from your window onto unsuspecting bystanders bellow.

Aegon told him delightfully how after he delivered the books to you, they were seen immediately thrown from the window and one had supposedly managed to hit one knight straight on the head, effectively knocking him out cold.

Though if anything those small acts of defiance made Aemond wish to reunite and return to you even more. It reminded him just why he fell in love with you in the first place. Your wit and your wisdom made him fall head over heals for you, literally.

He had tripped in front of you and some other ladies of the court due to the load of books he was carrying. He had not yet gotten used to the visual impairments the loss of his eye provided and did not see the thrown goblet in his path. Aemond had effectively turned scarlet when the ladies began to mockingly giggle at him, it nearly made his heart beat straight from his chest when he saw you come to his help. “You need to get some help with those. It’s not that bad to ask for help you know? Means you aren’t a stubborn twat.” You grin.

He wished he could go back to those days. They were simpler. They held no knowledge of the war they would face. It held no knowledge of the bastard from Harrenhal.

Aemond had not tried to reunite with you in person. He knew you’d most definitely follow through with your threat and spill his blood. It’s why he attempted to send you items instead through the maids. Though it’s very obvious those weren’t working either. That’s when he got the idea to write you letters. There was easily a chance that you would burn them or tear them the moment you saw the writing. Yet even then Aemond knew he had to try…

———

“Princess. I have another item sent from the prince for you.” One of the maids said as she carefully approached your bed. The sun had already hit its peak that day, though you could not bring yourself to get out of bed. The only time you could bring yourself too was either with the help of your maids, or when Aemond sent a supposed gift to you which you’d immediately destroy.

“What is it this time?” You sigh. “Is it something that I am supposed to eat? Because if it is i’d like it if you took to the servants quarters and give it to them and not-“

“It’s not food related my princess. It’s a letter.” When you look towards the maid you can see the sad expression clear on her face. This maid has brought you many of Aemonds attempts at reconciliation.

“What is your name?” It does not give you any sort of pleasure when the maid looks shocked at the fact a princess is asking for the name of a maid. “Its not a trick question I want to know your name.”

“Klarisa my princess. My name is Klarissa.”

“Klarisa do you think I should read the letter my bastard of a husband as written to me?” You look carefully at Klarisas face, the decision of your lifetime hanging in a mere maids hands.

“To be honest with you my lady…” Klarisa takes a deep breath and puts on a sympathetic face. You appreciate that she wishes to give you honesty, though that sympathetic face makes you want to punch her. “What the prince did was inexcusable after the way the two of you acted before… her. You got to have a husband who loves you and cared for you, that itself is much more than most of the women who are forced into a marriage can hope for. The prince is trying to make up for it and is also respective your boundaries. Not many could say that they got to have a husband who did even one of those things. So yes my princess, I believe you should read the letter.” You take a deep breathe and loosen your hands, which seemed to have clenched so tightly your nails all but pierce into your palms.

“Give me the letter then leave. If you see the prince, do not tell him that you for once got me to think about even looking at his weak apologies. Just put your head down, and walk away. Do you understand Klarisa?”

“Yes my princess.” Klarisa moves swiftly to the doors to your chambers, opening it and moving forward, only to stop for a moment and turn on her heels towards to. “I hope you get what it is you seek my princess. For your own sake.” She turns back to the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone with the letter in your hand which already feels like it’s burning you. Yet you prevail, and slowly open the letter to read it.

Dear ñuha jorrāelagon,

I will not waste my breath in attempting to gain your forgiveness. I know better than anyone that when you stick your mind to something you keep it that way. Though what I will say is the truth, which I know will hurt you and anger you more than anything but i know it’s what you wish to hear.

Alys was a woman I believed to be falling in love with. She was something what I believed I needed in my life. A woman to be docile and to whisper all the things I needed to hear in my ear. Though after your letter, it became my wake up. I cut off all contact with Alys after realising how much I hurt you. I regret that woman everyday I have not been with you. You are the only woman I need to be with. I love that you are not docile and will not take any man’s shit (as you so clearly and often tended to put it). I love that you challenge me and encourage the debates we so often hold. I love you Rhaella, more than any woman before in my life. I’m sorry it took another woman and the life of our child for me to realise it. I understand wholeheartedly if you wish to never speak to me again. But I hope with this letter, if you ever do decide to read this, which after all my other attempts seem unlikely, you at least know that there will not be a single day that I do not wish that I did not kill that woman when I killed all the other strongs. You are my life. My world. And I hope you know that.

From, Aemond Targaryen

You’ve never felt like you wanted to cry this much since you lost your sweet baby. You can feel the tears leaking down your face the entire time you read Aemonds words. Some of your tears drip onto the page, leaving some of the words to blur together into illegible blobs of black ink.

You feel the urge to destroy the letter. The same urge and desire you felt when you got into contact with all of Aemonds other gifts. Though you resist this time, and instead of destroying the letter, you smooth it out and place it delicately under the mass amounts of pillows that seem to always near take over your bed. That night, for the first night of the many you’d stayed in your room during your isolation period, you slept the whole night in your bed with no nightmares to wake you screaming.

———

When Aemond was standing in the corridor in the shadows and hadn’t picked up on any whispers from the maids passing him of any destruction or damage coming from your chambers, he assumed you must have kept the letter.

He does not hold though any hope that you read it. For all he knows you’ve simply just ignored it or ripped it and used it to keep your fire alight.

When he is waiting for the maid to come out of your room though, he could not help but feel hopeful when the maid takes longer than usual to come out of your room. “Well?” He asks as he steps from the shadows when the maid eventually comes out and nearly passes him. He does not dare to actually ask whether or not you took it. Even though he so selfishly wish to help hold her down and demand for

It surprises him and angers him when the maid looks at him and yet does not acknowledge him. What did you tell her? What does she know?

Aemond grabs the arm of the maid as she attempts to pass him without any real acknowledgment. “Your prince asked you a question.” He growls. He nearly felt sympathy for the woman when she looked at him with fear in her eyes. But he is not Aegon. He can control his desires towards the maids.

“The princess asked that I not speak to you. Please let go of my arm, my prince…” The maid half begs. Aemond lets go of her arm reluctantly after a moment of thinking. Why would you tell the maid to not talk to him? Maybe you really read the letter and do not wish to appear weak to him? Though only if you knew that you could never be weak in his eyes, his strong independent wife.

[targaryen-dynasty]

KINKTOBER SLEEPOVER.

GIF.

Modern!Maegor Targaryen x fem!Reader

Based on this request

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, age gap, power imbalance, rough sex, degrading, power play, size difference

WORDS: 1.3 K

NOTES: Thanks for your request @hypocritic-trash-baby! This sleepover really shows me how difficult it is for me to write something with less than 1.5 K words lmao. But I still had so much fun writing modern!Maegor. Hope you like it!

If you had known that working three hours overtime each evening was a part of the job when you had applied, you would not have taken it – regardless of how damn hot your boss was. 

Maegor was just your type. He was in his mid 40s, incredibly tall and bulky, but not fat, and allowed you to savor your feminine energy, despite you being his junior personal assistant and supposed to assist him. Whenever he was around, you didn’t have to bother opening doors, and if Maegor heard of someone being rude to you, it was only a matter of time until that person would crawl back to apologize. 

And not to talk about the looks he gave you. 

It was thrilling. 

You scarcely saw the violet hue of his eyes whenever you were around him, always dark blown with something you couldn't quite decipher. Even if you weren’t alone with him, he undressed you with his gaze, and it always strayed to your middle, lingering there a bit too long. 

You felt desired, and it was no surprise your confidence got a good boost from it. 

This was the main reason for the skirts of your office attire getting progressively shorter, always straddling that fine line between being appropriate or unfitting. 

It was another endless evening in the office, though this time, you and Maegor were completely alone. All your colleagues had left earlier to attend the birthday party of Maegor’s senior personal assistant, Alys, while she had passed all her tasks over to you. 

… what somehow brought you into the current predicament. 

Your chest was pressed flush against the wall of Maegor’s office. He had ripped your precious heart motif tights between your legs, had pulled your thong to the side and had rucked your skirt up around your waist. 

Maegor towered over your small frame. One of his paw-like hands held your arms locked behind your back, while the other cupped your chin to tilt your head back, forcing you to arch your back to accommodate his cock as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. 

“Waited so fuckin’ long for this,” Maegor grunted into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your flushed skin. “All those short skirts…,” he trailed off, seemingly needing a few seconds to regain his breath. “... you were just beggin’ for me to fuck you, huh?”

Your mouth hung agape, and with his hand tilting your head back to a point it was borderline painful, you weren't quite able to make any more sounds than breathy whines and whimpers. “Y-Yes,” you mewled, the sound straining your throat to the point you had to cough once. 

Maegor seemed to notice your struggle, and even though his hips didn’t slow down, he was generous enough to ease the grip on your face, allowing your head to bow forward. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, your name leaving his lips so smoothly, you almost came just hearing it, “takin’ my fuckin’ cock like the good girl you are.” While his hand kept your arms pinned behind your back, his other grabbed your thigh to raise your leg, draping it over his forearm as he braced it on the wall. 

The new angle had you seeing stars, his cock repeatedly attacking the sweet spot inside of you to the point you felt the urge to pee. Every moan hiccuped in your throat each time his hips slammed into yours, his heavy balls slapping against your aching clit, but not once giving you enough stimulation to push you over the edge. 

“That’s it, ‘m gonna get you all nice and ready for me. Gonna fill you up to show everyone you’re mine.” He said it as if he had been waiting for this just as long as you had, if not even longer. “Just knew I had to breed you when you pranced into my office for your job interview.” 

As he bent forward, he rested his forehead against the back of your head, looking down to where his cock was repeatedly disappearing inside of your cunt. “G-God, please, daddy… harder,” you whimpered, pressing your eyes shut. “N-Need you t-to… cum in me.” 

Your words made the animal behind you groan. “That’s what you want, huh? Bein’ fucked full of my cum until you’re pregnant with my child?” 

At this point, your mind was blank, his merciless pounding and words forcing every thought right out of your brain. You whined a string of incoherent words, rambling one ‘yes’ after the other. 

You could feel his thrusts becoming more and more erratic, a sign that let you know he was about to topple over the edge. With a few more thrusts, he fucked into you, until he released a breathy groan that heralded his orgasm. His twitching cock spilled his load deep inside of your cunt, and you squeezed him ever so tightly in response, milking him for every drop. 

While you thought he was done with you as he pulled out, a bit disappointed you didn’t get to come at all, your doubts were quickly pushed aside with his strong arms wrapping around you, turning you in his grasp, and lifting you from the ground. You squealed at the sudden action, more so when the coldness of his desk seeped into the naked flesh of your arse. 

Before you could say anything, he draped your legs over his shoulders and plunged his cock back into your cunt, his seed mixed with your arousal serving as lubricant. 

“You’re mine,” he growled, a threatening edge to his husky voice. “I fuckin’ own you and this sweet cunt of yours. Breedin’ you over and over, until I’ve knocked you up. Want everyone to know that I fuck you.”

His possessiveness intimidated you, but you didn’t complain, not when it meant you got to be fucked like this for the rest of your life. 

“You gonna look so fuckin’ radiant with a swollen belly.” You looked up at him with half lidded eyes, drool dripping from for parted lips – a clear sign that he had most definitely fucked you dumb by now. “Gonna be so, so full of me, pigeon, don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“Mae–Da-Daddy, please,” you called out desperately, not caring if it was loud enough to be heard outside of his office, since no one was there to hear it in the first place. Finally, you felt the heat in the pit of your stomach building again, the coil ready to snap at any given moment. “I want it, please. Need it so bad.”

Maegor smirked wickedly at you, and reached between your bodies to press his thumb to your clit, dragging it over the little bud in circles. It had your moans growing in volume as your climax washed over you, your convulsing walls clenching tight enough around Maegor’s thick cock to trigger his second release of the night. Your boss came with a shuddered breath leaving his lips, and by the way his jaw set, you could tell that he was slightly overstimulated already. 

You wanted to prop yourself up on your elbows when he pulled out, but his hand was quick to push you down again. A gasp escaped your throat at the impact, wanting to see just too badly what he was up to when he bowed forwards and brought his hand to your abused cunt. 

The uncomfortable feeling of being overstimulated filled your veins as Maegor dragged a thick finger through your folds, eventually sliding it inside and using it as a plug to stop his seed from oozing out of your cunt, making sure it wasn't fruitless. 

A few seconds passed until he pulled your thong back in place and fixed your skirt, helping you down his desk. When you met his dark blown gaze, you knew the insatiable man in front of you wasn’t satisfied.

“I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

[daenysx]

Heyy! ♡ Idk if you take nsfw requests (and if you don't that's perfectly fine), but could you possibly write a fic where Aemond comforts reader in their bed leading up to more after hearing rumours about Alys but reassuring her that they're not true?

i'm taking nsfw requests, thank you for requesting angel!! i hope you enjoy this ♡ requests are open

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut

aemond presses a kiss to your knee and suddenly you forget what you say.

"you know." he starts. "you know you're the only one."

you shake your head, your head on pillow with your leg in his hand.

"there's no one but you." he says again. "how can there be when i'm literally wrapped around your finger, huh?"

he kisses your thigh until he reaches the waistband of your tiny shorts. you cup his cheek with the last piece of strength you have. "that's not what they say, aemond."

aemond places himself on top of you gracefully, his face right in front of yours. "look at me, sweetheart." he whispers. "you know me. you know what you mean to me. do i look like i'd thrown everything i have with you just to have an affair with that woman just like they say? i'm not a fucking idiot nor a cheater."

your hand lingers on his cheek. "i know you." you start. "but i don't want people to spread rumors about you, about us like this. i don't want them to picture you and alys in their heads as if you're-"

"shh." aemond whispers. "i know."

he kisses your lips lightly. "people will talk. i can't always stop their words but- i can prove you how wrong they are."

you lean in to kiss him, he accepts the kiss greedily. he holds the back of your head, deepens the kiss. you close your eyes to him, you want to forget everything you heard, everything you saw. you believe in aemond and your love but you're frustrated with people's boldness, how can they claim to know anything about your relationship? how can they try to spread false information about your boyfriend?

aemond breaks the kiss, he spreads your legs with kind hands. he leans into your belly, his breath warms your skin. "it looks like my pretty girl needs some convincing, yeah?" he whispers against your cunt, his voice makes your head spin. he kisses your belly. his kisses draw a line from your belly to your cunt, his lips curve upwards when you squirm.

he takes off your shorts quickly, you put your calves back on his shoulders. he looks like a statue, all muscular and flawless. his hair tickles the skin of your thighs as he leans more, his chin grazes the top of your cunt and you arch your back.

"relax." he says. "i'll make you feel good."

"i know." you mumble. it's not the first time he eats you out, definitely will not be the last with the enthusiasm he shows towards the act. he brushes a slow kiss on your skin to start and brings his fingers to your center.

"aemond-" you whisper when he spreads you open. he looks pleased, you can almost feel how you drip down on the sheets. you squirm under his touch again, he gives you a lick to begin with.

"please." you say when he doesn't continue. you push your hips against his lips. "please, please."

he likes the teasing part the most, the slow and cautious seconds to get you where he wants. he opens his mouth to catch your wetness, you take a deep breath when his warm tongue licks your skin. you let out a moan of his name, he's so fucking good at it. it's maddening, so insane; the thought of him doing this to another woman. there are people out there who believes this shit?

aemond starts sucking your swollen bud, his fingers keep playing with you at the same time. you lift your head from the pillow, your hand goes to aemond's head to keep him still. he hums against you, such a pleasent sound. he doesn't move his head, his tongue is warm as he keeps licking your wetness.

"aemond-" you start, his two fingers find your g-spot and you feel him press against it relentlessly. you are really close to lose yourself, the wet sounds coming from between your legs increase and your heart beats faster.

your boyfriend has always been a quick learner, he is the most ambitious person you know and when he wants to be good at something he doesn't stop. sometimes you think he knows your body better than you. he reaches the places you can't reach by yourself with his long fingers, his fingertips press gently but firmly against your skin.

"please- i can't-" you mumble incoherently. aemond looks up to you, his eye glints with a burning desire. his tongue keeps your clit between his lips at he keeps stroking your g-spot, you make a loud noise when he stops suddenly.

"what-"

"come for me." he says firmly. he sucks your clit once again, his fingers inside you. "now."

you are on the edge of insanity, clenching hard around his fingers as you come. it's both a relief and madness, the way he holds you when your sight goes blank, how he presses himself to bed just to give himself a second to focus on you. he is undeniably hard but he has a point to prove.

you lay on bed, eyes closed and body limp. the stress and frustration coming with those rumors were hard on you, you can't even lift your head to see aemond. he kisses your thighs as you come down from your high, he lays next to you. his eye looks at your relaxed face with the hope of affection.

"i never wanted you to hear them." he says lowly. "i don't want them to ruin what we have."

you manage to turn to your side. opening your arms, leading him towards your chest to put his head on your shoulder. he wraps his arms around you in a second, kisses the soft skin of your neck as he inhales your scent.

aemond sounds a bit more terrified than he aims to show. sometimes it feels like you are the only thing in his life that makes sense, he looks at you and can't believe his luck. the thought of your relationship could be ruined because of some stupid business dinner he had with alys rivers makes him sick to his stomach. don't they see how he looks at you? his eye sparks every time you enter a room. he would give anything and everything you ask from him, only to see you smile to his direction.

he has fallen hard for you and selfishly he wants to keep you to himself. he keeps the details of your relationship secret mostly to keep you from harm. maybe that's not enough. maybe he should let everyone know. he doesn't know what to do, right this moment in your arms, it's only your warmth and your lips against his skin that he can think about.

"it's not your fault." you say, playing with his hair. "i shouldn't let these rumors affect me. i think i was- caught off guard. it's not that i believe into their words it's just- the thought of you and her."

aemond wrinkles his nose. "there's no such a thing, my love." he rubs his nose to your skin. "please."

"i know." you say when his arms tightens around you. "i believe in you, only you."

aemond's heart takes a leap every time you say something precious like this to him. he'll hold onto that feeling no matter what happens. god knows it's the only think that keeps him sane these days.

[novaursa]

ahhhh so happy to see ur request are back open!! love ur works so much ! can u do something for reader x aemond and its something like they was married and she was madly in love with him but when he meets alys rivers and he decides to accuse his wife of treason and infidelity which leads to her yk being executed. and everyone (otto, aegon, alicent) knows that the claims are false but doesn’t do anything about it <33 ! thank you in advance bookie

The Dagger's Kiss

- Summary: You loved Aemond since you were children, but what he did to Luke was a sin you could not forgive.

- Paring: baratheon!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: I hope this is what you had in mind. 🙂

The storm rages outside, howling winds rattling the ancient stones of Storm’s End. The great hall feels colder than usual, despite the roaring fire that blazes in the hearth. You stand beside Aemond, his presence a steady force amidst the chaos of the weather outside. His hand rests on the pommel of his sword, his face unreadable as he converses with your father, Lord Borros Baratheon.

The tension between them is visible, a silent battle of wills. Your father’s eyes flicker toward you, his jaw tightening before he finally nods.

“The Stormlands are yours, Aemond,” Borros rumbles, his voice as deep and grating as the waves crashing against the cliffs outside. “But I won’t have my daughter dragged into your family’s war.”

Aemond’s gaze shifts to you, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Y/N is my wife, Lord Borros. Her place is by my side, where she has always wanted to be.”

Heat floods your cheeks at his words. It’s true; you’ve loved Aemond since childhood, your affection blossoming over the years as he grew from a serious, studious boy into the fierce warrior who now stands before you. When he proposed marriage, you thought it was a dream, even knowing it was a political move. But he chose you, and that meant something. It meant everything.

“I can speak for myself, Father,” you interject gently, stepping forward. “I stand with my husband, wherever he goes.”

Borros’s face softens, just a fraction, before his expression hardens once more. “Then may the gods protect you both.”

Before Aemond can respond, the heavy doors of the hall swing open with a crash. A drenched figure stumbles inside, his dark hair clinging to his forehead. Prince Lucerys Velaryon, your cousin Rhaenyra’s son. The sight of him is like a knife to the chest. Your heart lurches, remembering the carefree days you shared with his mother, Rhaenyra—your beloved cousin, your dearest friend.

Lucerys’s wide eyes scan the room, settling on you for a brief, heartbreaking moment before darting to Aemond. “I come with a message from my mother, Queen Rhaenyra,” he announces, his voice trembling. “She asks that you, Lord Borros, honor your oath and remember your duty to her.”

Your father’s brow furrows, a scowl darkening his face. “And what of the promises your mother broke when she sent her sons here without offer of marriage, boy?”

You barely register the words, your gaze fixed on Aemond. His eye narrows, a predatory gleam flickering in its depths. You know that look. It’s the one he gets when he’s ready to strike.

“Aemond,” you whisper, reaching out to touch his arm. “Please…”

But he shrugs off your hand gently, his focus unyielding on Lucerys. “I’ll not have bastards and traitors speak to me of oaths.” His voice is calm, but there’s a razor-sharp edge to it that makes your stomach twist. “You owe me an eye, nephew.”

Lucerys’s face pales. “I—I came as a messenger. I don’t want to fight.”

Aemond’s lips curl into a cold smile. “Then you should not have come, Lucerys.”

He turns to leave, and you feel your heart hammering against your ribs. “Aemond, don’t do this!” you plead, but he doesn’t look back. He strides out of the hall, his cloak billowing behind him like a shadow.

The door slams shut, and you’re left standing in the echoing silence. You can barely breathe, your hands trembling as you stare after him. You know what he’s going to do. You can see it in his eyes, the same madness that once took hold of your grandfather Aerion Brightflame. The storm rages on outside, the winds screaming like the dragons of old.

“Father, please!” you beg, turning to Lord Borros, but his face is stony.

“He’s your husband now, girl. His choices are his own.”

You don’t know how long you stand there, the world spinning around you, before the doors are thrown open again. Aemond strides back into the hall, his face flushed with victory, his eye glittering with a savage light. He’s soaked to the bone, his hair plastered to his skull, but he looks more alive than you’ve ever seen him.

“It’s done,” he announces, his voice ringing through the hall. “Prince Lucerys is dead.”

The world tilts beneath you. “No,” you whisper, shaking your head as if denying it could change what’s happened. “Aemond, what have you done?”

He steps closer, reaching for you, but you shrink back, horror clawing at your throat. “He attacked me, Y/N. I had to defend myself.”

You want to believe him, you want to hold on to the image of the boy you loved, the man you married. But the way he speaks, the pride in his voice—it’s not the Aemond you know. This is someone else, someone who has been twisted by hatred and vengeance.

“Rhaenyra… my cousin… Aemond, she will never forgive this,” you say, your voice breaking.

“Let her come,” he snarls, his face contorting with a rage you’ve never seen before. “I’ll deal with her as I dealt with her son.”

You feel the world collapsing around you, everything you’ve known and loved crumbling into ash. This is not what you wanted, not what you dreamed of when you stood beside Aemond, pledging your life to him.

“Y/N, you’re my wife,” he says, his voice softening as he steps closer. He reaches out, cupping your face in his cold, wet hands. “You belong to me, as I belong to you. This is the price of loyalty, of love. You understand that, don’t you?”

You stare up at him, searching his face for some trace of the man you loved. But all you see is a stranger, a monster wearing your husband’s skin.

“I… I don’t know,” you whisper, tears blurring your vision. “I don’t know if I do anymore.”

Aemond’s face darkens, his grip tightening on your chin. “You will,” he says, his voice a low, dangerous promise. “You will, Y/N.”

And in that moment, you realize that you are trapped—trapped by your love, your duty, and the man who stands before you, holding your heart and your fate in his bloodstained hands.

The journey back to King’s Landing is a blur, the days melting into one another as the memory of that night at Storm’s End lingers like a dark cloud. Aemond’s mood grows darker with each passing day, his patience shorter, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. You try to reach him, to understand the turmoil churning beneath his calm facade, but he shuts you out, his focus consumed by some unseen enemy.

When you finally arrive at the Red Keep, it’s as if the entire city holds its breath. Word of Prince Lucerys’s death has spread, and the reactions are mixed. Some cheer for Aemond’s act of vengeance, while others whisper in dark corners about the reckless cruelty of it. You feel like a ghost, drifting through the familiar halls that once felt like home, but now seem haunted by your own guilt and grief.

In the throne room, Aemond stands tall and proud, his chin lifted as he faces his mother, Alicent, and his grandfather, Otto Hightower. They’re all there—Aegon, lounging on the Iron Throne with a smirk playing on his lips, Helaena watching quietly from the shadows, her eyes distant and unfocused. 

“You did well, Aemond,” Otto says, his voice cold and calculating. “This was a necessary step. The Blacks will think twice before challenging our rule.”

Aemond nods, his expression blank. “It had to be done. He was a traitor.”

Alicent steps forward, her face softening as she looks at her son. “You’ve proven your strength, Aemond. But please, be careful. This war… it will tear us all apart.”

Her words hang in the air, and you feel a pang of sympathy for her. She’s a mother caught between love for her children and the brutal realities of power. But then Aegon laughs, a harsh, grating sound that grates on your nerves.

“Oh, Mother, don’t worry so much. Aemond did what needed to be done. The boy was a bastard, and now he’s dead. Simple as that.”

You can’t hold back any longer. “He was a child!” you snap, the words bursting out before you can stop them. “Lucerys was just a boy!”

Aemond’s head snaps around, his eye blazing with fury. “Watch your tongue, wife,” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous. “Do not forget where your loyalties lie.”

Your heart sinks, but you hold your ground, your eyes never leaving his. “My loyalties? I’ve stood by you, Aemond, through everything. But what you did… it wasn’t justice. It was murder.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Alicent’s face pales, and even Otto looks momentarily taken aback. Aegon’s smirk falters, his eyes flicking between you and Aemond with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

Aemond’s expression hardens, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “You know nothing of justice,” he says coldly. “You’ve lived your life in comfort, protected by your father’s name and your family’s power. You have no idea what it means to fight for something.”

You shake your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I fought for you, Aemond. I’ve always fought for you. But I can’t—” Your voice breaks. “I can’t be a part of this anymore.”

You turn and leave the throne room, your heart pounding in your chest. The walls of the Red Keep seem to close in around you as you make your way to the courtyard, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and sorrow. You don’t know where you’re going—just away, anywhere away from this nightmare.

The courtyard is quiet, the stables bustling with activity as the grooms prepare your horse. You’ve made up your mind. You can’t stay here, not with Aemond like this, not with the memory of Lucerys haunting every corner of your thoughts.

“Lady Y/N, your horse is ready,” the stablehand says, his eyes wide with concern as he helps you to the saddle. But before you can mount, a hand grips your arm, yanking you back.

Aemond stands before you, his face a mask of fury. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, his voice shaking with rage.

“I’m leaving, Aemond,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I can’t stay here and watch you destroy yourself.”

“Destroy myself?” He laughs, a harsh, bitter sound. “I’m doing what must be done, Y/N. For our family, for our future. And you would abandon me?”

“I’m not abandoning you!” you cry, your heart breaking at the look in his eye. “I love you, Aemond, but I can’t be a part of this anymore. I can’t watch you become—”

“Become what?” he snarls, his grip tightening painfully on your arm. “What am I becoming, Y/N? Tell me!”

You struggle against his hold, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. “Someone I don’t recognize,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Someone I can’t follow.”

His face twists with a fury that is almost madness. “You swore to stand by me, to be my wife, my partner. You promised!”

“I know,” you sob, your voice breaking. “But this isn’t what I wanted, Aemond. This isn’t what I thought—”

Before you can finish, you feel a sharp pain in your chest, a burning, searing agony that steals the breath from your lungs. You look down, your eyes widening in horror as you see the hilt of Aemond’s dagger buried in your chest, his hand still gripping it tightly.

The world seems to slow, everything fading to a muted blur. You look up at him, your lips forming his name, but no sound comes out.

Aemond’s face changes, the fury melting into something else—something like fear, or maybe regret. He pulls the dagger free, and you stumble, the ground rushing up to meet you as you fall.

“No, no, no…” His voice is a broken whisper, his hands trembling as he catches you, cradling you against his chest. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t want to…”

The pain is overwhelming, a crushing weight that steals the air from your lungs, the light from your eyes. You can barely see him now, his face blurring into darkness as your world begins to slip away.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice choked with grief. “I love you, Y/N. Please, stay with me.”

But it’s too late. The darkness is pulling you under, your body growing cold and heavy in his arms. You try to hold on, to reach out to him, but your strength is gone, your breath slipping away like the tide.

And then there’s nothing but darkness, the world fading to black as you fall into the void, his voice the last thing you hear, echoing in the silence of your dying mind.

[gxthicwxrm]

Hi! Saw you were looking for hotd requests.

How about arranged marriage au with Daemon x fem!reader. They have 1 or more kids but Daemon doesn't seem to like her. After an attack on her and the kids (she's a trained assassin/warrior), he realizes how much she does for them. Maybe she goes unconscious for a few days and Daemon has to look after the kids.

Ignore this if you don't want to do it! But thanks and have a good day!

Hello! I am so sorry for the late reply!! I did a few changes, I hope you don't mind. I plan to use this prompt for Aemomd and Aegon as well. However I hope you enjoy!!

Fire Like A Targaryen

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Wife!reader

Warning: blood, assault, mentions of rape and murder, angst

Word Count: 1,907

Masterlist - Part Two

---

You drums you fingers against your swollen belly, feeling little feet meeting the flesh beneath your hands. "Hello, my little love." You hum to the unborn baby that dances in your stomach while the baby's father disappears somewhere, surely his doting niece following closely behind. 

You have been married to Daemon long enough to know the feelings he has for his niece, even if he doesn't realize himself. His neglect of husbandry duties always increased as we spent time in King's Landing, nearing the Princess of Dragonstone. However, you didn't blame your husband's inability to love you, on the Princess or even her lover. Sometimes people just don't love each other.

Giving up long ago for his affection, you decided to make the best of your time with simple pleasures: reading in the garden, learning to cook with the maidens, painting with the richest of colors. Quickly, you adapted to the riches of the Targaryen's royalty which dulled the ache you felt for her husband. 

The night of the wedding, the pair never consummated the marriage, it left you feeling like a pawn in a game. He stumbled in drunk, tripping over his feet before dragging himself up the bed, practically crawling towards you. Unable to deny your growing love for this mess of a man, you reached your hand out and guided him towards yourself. 

Slowly, he looked up at you before clasping your cheeks in his hands, pressing his cold lips against your warm ones. Hungrily, his hands fly to your sides and pull you against his bare chest. Moaning into your kiss, both sets of hands begin exploring each other. For once, you felt at home, like this was how the two of you were supposed to be, together. However, your bliss died when his lips whispered one that was far from your own.

"Oh, Rhaenyra!" He mumbles into the flesh of your neck, leaving little bruises training down your chest as he moves towards your breast. His words crash around in your head as you lay beneath Daemon who finishes and falls asleep beside you, wordlessly.

Despite the pain of that night, you gained motherhood. Daemon was happy to be a father, scared but happy. He never told you, but you could tell when he'd ghost his hand over your bump or give you an extra piece of bread with dinner. He even held your hand during the birth of your daughter, Alysannne.  He may not love you, but he loves his child. Although, a small part of you wished this child would make him love you. You were naive to think Daemon would ever love you.

But, years have passed since your daughter was born. Alys is five, running around her father as he brushes Caraxes in the Dragonpit. 

"Mommy!" Her tiny voice echoes on the stone walls once she sees you walking towards herself and her father. Looking up, Daemon's eyes meet yours, offering a small smile before turning back to the huffing Caraxes. 

"Hello, my little one. What are you doing out here? Look at you, you are all dirty!" You pick at your daughter's ripped gown, covered in soot. 

"We were playing with Caraxes! Daddy said he'd let me fly with him!!" The little girl runs between her parents and the Blood Wyrm, kissing the dragon's cheek as she pets him. 

"Well, she is her father's daughter." Daemon chuckles, putting his hand on the small of your back as Alys dances around in front of you, twirling her ruined skirt. Affection from him was no longer rare but quick. His thumb caresses the exposed skin of your back, soothing the pain of carrying a child. His unused hand finds itself cupping your belly.

"How has he been treating you, today?" Daemon's smooth voice steals your attention from the girl before you. Looking down at his hands, you rest yours beside his but he moves, so his fingers are right over yours.

"He's been good. Hasn't been kicking me a ridiculous amount which is a new change of pace." Your attempt at a joke brings a smile to your husband's face who kneels down before you and kisses your clothed belly, much to your surprise.

"Be good for your mother. Cherish her, my little Dragon." He whispers, but you were still able to here his words. Standing back up, he cups your face.

"I'm going to take Alys flying before she makes Caraxes eat me. He listens to her more and more these days." With a peck on your cheek, he's running towards his daughter and his dragon. 

"Don't forget Alysanne needs to bathe before dinner with your brother. She may be a dragon but she will not smell like one." You call them, laughing at your own words. 

"Yes ma'am." Daemon smiles at you before telling Caraxes to fly,just streaks of red melding into the blue sky above. 

Waiting for your family, you sit in your chambers, rubbing oils on your stretched belly while the water for Alysanne is being gathered by your maids.

Grabbing a book from Daemon's bedside table, you absently flip through the pages; glimpses of words and stories fly by along with the pages.

A creak of the door alerts you, bring you to your feet as you cover your stomach with the slits of your gown.

"Mommy! We flew so high!" Alysanne pushed the door open enough to slide between the wood, running to her mother's side, a severant boy coming in behind her with two buckets of hot water. Alysanne leans into your side as you take in the dirt covering her face.

"Oh, my little girl, what did they do to you? Did they roast you?" You giggle, tickling at her sides. The servant moved slowly beside you as he filled the white tub.

"No, I roasted them, mwah ha ha." She laughs, stomping and pretending to breathe fire as she runs around you in circles.

"Okay my dragon rider. It's time to bathe. Come on." She taps her daughter's shoulders, moving her towards the steaming bath. Looking towards the lingering servant, Y/N felt bad dismissing him but was cautious why he was staying so long.

"Thank you, sir. Your kindness won't be forgotten." You turn towards your child and still feeling the man in your room, pull the curtain around the tub closed, canceling your still clothed daughter. She was eerie of this man in their room, unsure what to think of him.

Slowly, he straightens to look you in the eye, a cold shiver runs through your body as you see the glint of a dagger in his hand. 

"No! Guards! Daemon!" You shout as the man lunges, knife pointed towards your belly. The man kept coming at you, backing you in the furthest corner away from your daughter, who peeked from the curtain. Moving to run around him, his arm grabbed you by the stomach and shoved you down. Flying backward, your head hits the ground, a loud crack echoing through your mind as you look around for a weapon. The man is stalking you while you try to move toward the bed across you. You knew Daemon kept a dagger under the left-hand side of the mattress. If you could just get to it, you could save your children's lives.

The sound of glass breaking stops you and your attacker, both looking toward the direction of the crash. The tub. 

A fear like no other took over you as the man started towards your daughter's hiding spot. Reaching for his legs, you try to pull him down, screaming but to no avail as he kicks you. One landing in your swollen belly, making black dots cloud your vision. Wetness trickles down the side of your face, but you keep dragging yourself behind this man, desperate to stop him from hurting your child. 

Using the table nearest, you pull yourself up and grab Daemon's letter opener. This man would not leave this room alive; you'd make sure of it even if you died trying. The man throws open the curtain but pauses. Creeping behind him, you see Alysanne isn't behind the curtain anymore. 

"Where is she?" The man asked himself. He turns, locking eyes with you before grabbing you by your hair and pulling you to your knees. "I said," Where is she? You dumb bitch!" He goes to smack you but stops as you shove the letter opener into his hand. Letting you go, you drop back down before dragging yourself to your feet.

"You fucking cunt! I was going to let it be quick, but now you will watch me rape your little girl and slit her throat before I do the same to you." He spits, pulling the blade from his hand and coming at you. His words once would've made you cower and hide, but now light you up like a flame. A fire burned in you to keep going and fighting despite the pain radiating over your body.

"You won't lay a finger on her. Over my dead body." You knew this would be a fight you'd lose. You have no weapons, training, or husband to protect you. It was up to you to protect these children, and you would do it even if it killed you. The Man grabs at you again, but you slap, scratch, and claw at his face this time. His hands find their way around your throat while yours dig into his eyes, a gut-wrenching scream comes from the man as he yanks away from you, but you don't stop. Lunging at him, you push his body against the tub, hitting his head before you wail on his chest, tears flowing down your face as the man beneath you go limp.

A scream of frustration leaves your throat raw as the adrenaline leaves your body. 

"Alysanne? It's okay to come out now, darling. It's okay." Your thoughts cleared. Where is your daughter? Stumbling off the man, you pull yourself up and turn, trying to find your daughter, when suddenly she slides from under the bed, rushing to your side. 

"M-mommy! I thought, I thought he was-" 

"Shh, it's okay now. Everything is going to be okay." You hold her to your chest, trying to soothe your nerves. The door swings open to your relief, and Daemon rushes in, sword drawn with the Gold Cloaks rushing in behind him.

"What happened? Are you okay? Alysanne? The baby?" Daemon's questions shoot at you, each before the words can find you. Staring up at him, blood smeared across your face, bruises forming, and tears filling your eyes. Daemon has never seen you like this and never plans to again.

"Mommy killed the bad guy. He tried to hurt us, but she saved us!" Your daughter summarizes to her father, who turns to his wife, shocked, before pulling her and her daughter into his arms, kissing each other on their foreheads. He always thought she lacked the fire a Targaryen has. But at every turn, she has proved him wrong. Not only did she give him a dragon and another coming, but she became one in the process.

[firstdivisiongirl]

Hi Aly, I hope you still take requests. If yes, could you please write a short fic where zoro slowly falls in love with "luffys older sister" that's as "stoic" as zoro but somehow really clumsy? Thanks in advance <3 and have a nice day :D

Hi friend. I am still taking requests. This was a really cute idea. I tried to keep it pretty short for you. I hope you like it and have a nice day as well.

Zoro x Luffy's Older Sister Reader: Would Have Never Guessed

Luffy was super energetic and not serious.  So, when they met you in Punk Hazard, his older sister, they were shocked.  You were stoic, just as stoic as Zoro.  Everyone was questioning how you two were siblings.  Luffy asked you to finally join his crew and you did.  You usually kept to yourself, which no one minded.  But that piqued Zoro’s interest.  He knew you were a writer, so he knew you would be gathering books.  One day he had followed you (of course not letting you see) and he learned a lot about you.  You were the clumsiest person he knew.  You tripped over everything, knocked things over all the time, and accidentally dropped stuff.  He would have never guessed someone as stoic as you would be so clumsy.  Most people he knew who were stoic were perfectionist and never did anything clumsy.

But, the more he followed you and even talked to you.  The more he fell in love.  You were everything he wanted.  You weren’t one of those loud obnoxious girls who threw themselves at men.  You were just you.  He learned you started writing in honor of your brother Sabo, who had died.  You didn’t like Sake so you gave him your share.  He never believed in love, but he loved you more and more.  Who would have guessed that Zoro would have fallen in love for the girl like you, the clumsy and serious sister of his goofy captain.

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

[moonydustx]

Hi!! Your writing is so good. I love it so much!!! Can i request a Five x female reader? Where the reader is smug and direct about her feelings? Thank you!! 🫶🫶🫶

Hi Hi! First, thank you for appreciating my work ❤️❤️

I tried my best to deliver and I apologize in advance if anything deviated from the proposal. I used Five from last season because his personality in these last few episodes is my favorite. Again, thanks for the request and i hope u like!

requests | the umbrella academy masterlist

What do you feel?

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x F!Reader

Warnings: fluffff, some things are a little out of canon, F!Reader is also someone with powers. She can feel others' feelings and make others feel hers through touch.

You still remembered the first time Five crossed your eyes at Temps Comisson. The neat jacket, the formal shorts and the almost arrogant posture for just a kid. At first, you hated him.

"A new friend for you." the manager introduced you to him and the two of you barely bothered to shake hands.

"Great, a newbie." Five replied, without much patience.

"I already have my suitcase, I don't need this new one." the cynicism in your tone was clear to both of them. When you saw the manager looking at you impatiently, you turned to him. "Let's follow the rules: don't get in my way, don't meddle in my choices and please don't expect me to save you if you're standing in the grave."

"I could say the same." Five replied, extending his hand to you. "Deal."

And a few years later, here you were. Cooped up in the family of what you could call your best friend, attending a wedding taking place under the lights of the end of the world.

"What do you think, huh? Apocalyptic weddings." Five whispered as the bride and groom entered.

"First I need to find someone who can handle it." your answer came out almost automatically and you just watched Five deny it, with a smile on his lips.

The ceremony was quick, totally the opposite of dinner. The two of you chose to sit at a table alone, taking in your surroundings. The happy couples, Ali and Viktor fighting, Ben being disturbed by Klaus.

"Can you feel what they think from here?" Five asked, filling his glass.

"Sex, sex." you pointed to Luther and Diego with their respective spouses. "Guilt and grudge." you pointed at Viktor and then Allison. "And suicide." Finally, you pointed at Ben. "Look, I don't even need to go there and touch them."

"Sometimes I forget." He pointed to your hands covered in gloves. "And you, how do you feel about the world ending?"

"Relief, I guess." You lied, seeing him nod.

You both watched Klaus approach, in silence. Brother Hargreeves tried to convince them to listen to Sir Reginald, but it was in vain. You understood his hope, in trying to somehow rescue his father's good image and no matter how much he denied it, you could feel that Five wanted to be able to have that kind of hope too.

"I still don't believe him." Five said in a low tone, despite having alcohol in his blood, he still needed to remain alert.

"Me either." you imitated him, moving closer to him. The two of your heads were practically glued together as the two of you talked. "It's a shame to see Klaus so… wait a minute."

Sir Reginald's presence was present there, frightening everyone. It wasn't the spiteful version that you heard Five talk about over the years, but there was something that didn't fit there, you could feel it.

The man gave a brief speech, with a huge poem and it was clear from the looks of those around that the situation was stranger than you could imagine. Perhaps with the intention of breaking the ice hovering in the air, as soon as Hargreeves left the microphone, the dance floor was filled with music and colored lights.

"The old man is actually good at it." Five pondered, taking your attention.

"I don't know, something is wrong. He's always alert, he won't let me touch him." you responded immediately, watching him think for a few seconds.

"Any ideas what we can do?"

"I don't know if you got the memo, but we're about to die. " you turned away from Five to grab your glass. In a cynical gesture, you took your glass towards his glass, improvising a toast. "Here's to the old man's minutes of sanity."

"How can you be so frank?" He seemed indignant, drawing a laugh from your lips. "You're worse than me."

"Ah, dear Five. Try to feel what everyone else feels for a day. All the anger, all the fear. Your own feelings become a burden to you." your words silenced him, leaving space for him to just nod and for you to return to contemplating the speeches.

"I'm glad the world is ending." he stood up, extending his hand to you while his other hand held the bottle of champagne you shared. "Screw other people's feelings."

"Yeah, screw it." You accepted and stood up.

Five led you to the dance floor and even though the music was more upbeat and the dance floor was full of his brothers, he still spun you around a few times, in a kind of disconcerted waltz.

Five soon let go of you and climbed up to where the DJ table was, taking the microphone from the strange man. Without speech or prior notice, Five began to sing. The lyrics weren't the happiest of all, much less the melody, but they were familiar to you. You remembered singing it a few times in Five's presence and saying how much it reminded you of your father, who had been away from you for years.

"Would you accompany me?" your eyes moved away from Five's to Klaus, who proposed a dance. You could notice his suspicious look as he led you away.

"You like him, don't you?" Klaus asked and you just nodded, there was no point in hiding it anymore. "Well, you still have some time until the world ends."

"And if it doesn't end, what do I do next?"

"What do you mean it doesn't end?" Klaus asked, stopping turning you around. "Will you accept Dad's plan?"

"No, no, that's not it. I've seen Five end apocalypses before, I think something inside me hopes he can fix this one too. Maybe it's just the grief speaking inside me."

"Yeah, maybe."

Klaus turned you around once again and let you go, leaving you alone for just a few seconds.

"Let's get out of here?" Five's voice materialized behind you. "I need fresh air."

Before you could respond, he held your hand and led you away. It only took a few minutes for the two of you to be alone, watching the orange sky from the building's terrace.

"Can I ask you something?" You sat next to him, keeping little distance. Before you could ask, he held out the bottle of champagne he hadn't put down yet.

"Technically you already asked."

"Stop being an idiot." your shoulders collided with his. "That's it, right? I think we finally don't have the solution."

"I can almost believe you're scared." this time, you didn't deny it, you just looked away. "You know you don't need to talk, right?"

"I know, but it's frustrating. Running after saving the world all this time and not being able to. I'd rather die, I don't know, run over by a car, with an anvil falling on my head. But an apocalypse?" you laughed and watched Five do what you had done many times when you couldn't use your voice to talk. He took one of your hands and took off the glove, allowing himself to touch your skin.

"I can feel you." he replied, in a low tone. "You are afraid."

Five preferred to omit everything else he felt when he touched your skin. Fear, anguish, anxiety, love. The last one weighed on his mind, but he knew you and knew you would come out as soon as he felt comfortable. In a way, he knew that when he touched you, you would also be aware of his feelings.

"The only people who aren't scared are those who aren't paying attention."

"I think we need to drink more, to forget about this." even after just a few minutes of sitting, Five pulled you to your feet. "And this dress suits you, it's a waste to stay here while the party is going on downstairs."

Again, he dragged you downstairs, where the celebration was taking place. Whiskey, vodka, beer, everything that still contains a quantity of alcohol became part of your menu and at the end of the party, you found yourself sitting at the counter, Five standing a few meters away, tasting two different drinks. Maybe that would be the last time the two of you would party.

"Five?" you interrupted him, making him place the two bottles on the floor. "I don't want to die with regrets."

"Elucidate me on that."

"Even though The Handler always made it clear that I was too much for you, I like you." A sob caused by alcohol interrupted your train of thought. "I like it and I know that maybe I'm a little too much for your arrogance. You're also a little too much for me." You laughed, seeing him approach. "I think after these years, it's only fair for me to say that I love you."

"You think?" he laughed, fitting himself between your legs dangling from the metal counter. "You drank too much."

"You too." you responded immediately, starting to take off your gloves. "And alcohol doesn't affect my opinion. Feelings don't lie, do you want to feel?" Before the first glove could leave your hand, Five stopped you.

"I believe in you and I feel the same." he replied and in an unexpected gesture, he hugged you, putting his face in your mouth. "I've loved you for a while, it's a shame it took us so many years to realize."

"We can live that at least now." You gave space for his face to be in front of yours. "Damn, now I wish I could end this apocalypse."

His lips took yours and instead of his hands attaching themselves to your body, Five disheveledly took off your gloves and pulled your hands until they tangled around the back of his neck.

"I love you so much." he murmured between your lips, feeling almost overwhelmed by all the feeling that emanated from your hands. "Tonight, I'm yours and you're mine, fuck this apocalypse."

"Until the world ends?" you asked breathlessly.

"Until the world ends."

Your mouth tasted like alcohol, sweets and fear for the small future, but Five didn't see the problem, after all you could love each other until the world ended.

[sapphire-writes]

Wildest Dreams ~ Aemond x Wife!reader

request: an arranged marriage between yn and Aemond, where he has married her to win the favor of her house, but the war is on and he meets Alys and yn hears the rumors and when she hears Aemond talking about Alys with Alicent she understands that she is not a simple lover, she talks about it with Aemond and he has a certain affection for her so he tells her to have adventures if she wants to and she is heartbroken, but she does not take the offer, but Aemond thinks that eventually he will and continues with Alys until at a ball he sees yn talking to a lord of a noble house and is jealous that she eventually took up the offer. Happy or sad ending, you decide, I just want to read how you develop it. Thanks for your work! ~anon word count: 1.8k warning: angst omg, some spicy themes nothing explicit, jealous & possessive Aemond note: I really liked writing this, especially exploring the relationship between the reader and her sworn protector 🫣 you can read more of my work here 💚

My lady, my Alys.

That name haunts you. It slithers through the halls of the Red Keep. It lives in the pitying eyes of those who look upon you, the forgotten spouse of Aemond Targaryen. His wife. His princess. What a horrid sham it was now. 

You knew Aemond to be a man of duty, you knew this when you married him. Though you hoped his affection for you would grow with time, you had never expected him to stray outside the marriage. He simply did not seem the type of man to do such a thing.

Until the war. Until Alys Rivers. 

You knew the people of court were aware of the affair your husband was having with the so-called witch queen of Harrenhal. 

It only became more apparent when he returned to court on Vhagar’s back, with his paramour securely against his back. Though you haven't seen your husband in months, as soon as you spotted her with him, you excused yourself from the celebrations around his return. 

You ran to your chambers and hurriedly pushed by your sworn protector Ser Cassian who stood outside your door. 

“My lady?” he asked, with a concerned look on his face as you made your way inside. 

He noted the tears on your face. For a moment he hesitated with his hand on the door handle, preparing to close it as he heard your sobs from within. Instead, he released the handle, stepping inside your chambers. 

“It pains me to see such a lovely lady crying,” Ser Cassian says as you face away from him. 

“Yes well then I would advise you to avert your eyes,” you snap, bitterly.

Ser Cassian does not heed your advice, he simply stands in the doorway. You feel guilt begin to curl its way into your stomach, under your skin. You turn your head to him.

“You must forgive me, Ser,” you begin, keeping your gaze low, “that was unkind.”

Ser Cassian moves to close the door, and you hear his heavy footsteps make their way over to you. 

You turn completely to face the knight, who now offers you a piece of cloth. Shame rolls through you at his act of kindness, as you offer him a small smile dabbing at the wetness that pools beneath your eyes. 

“There is no need for apologies, my lady,” he tells you. 

“Then you are too kind a man,” you tell him, eyes glassy with tears.

“I only wish for your protection and happiness, my lady,” he tells you, as you hand him back his handkerchief. 

You confront Aemond later on, in the privacy of his chambers. 

“Now you bring her to court to humiliate me further,” you accuse, blood running hot with anger. 

Aemond rubs the scarred skin above his eyepatch. 

“I’ve no wish to humiliate you, dear wife,” he assures you. 

“Then why?” you demand, “why parade her at court, in front of all these people?”

Aemond stands still, his mouth a tight line. He refuses to answer you, causing you to scoff. 

“I understand you love her?” you ask your husband, unable to meet his eyes. 

There is a moment of silence between you, the weight of your question hanging in the air.

“I do,” he says firmly, confidently.

You did not know your heart could break more than it already has. 

“I wish for you to be happy,” Aemond says, coming closer to you, “I am still your husband, I shall give you children to love and cherish.”

You make an offended noise at his words, cheeks heating up. How romantic a notion, being your husband’s broodmare. 

“You may do as you like,” Aemond assures you, “as long as you bear only my trueborn children, take pleasure in whatever you wish.”

You look at him, not believing the words he speaks.

“You do not mean that,” you tell him. 

The man you married may not have loved you right away, but there was a possessive nature about him beneath the surface of his cold exterior. 

“I do,” he tells you. 

“I have no wish for anything else. For anyone else,” you tell him.

“You shall, in time,” he assures you, “you have been lonely too long.”

“You think a lover would fix that?” you snap at him.

Aemond does not answer, he simply leaves the room to go to her. 

You spend a long time in the gardens, finding solace in the flowers, bathed in moonlight. The air grows cold around you but you would rather be out here than in the castle. You swear you can hear their pants and moans from your chambers. Your husband is taking another woman. Over, and over again. 

“You should be inside, my lady,” Ser Cassian tells you, watching as your teeth chatter in the cool night air. 

He removes the cloak from his back, placing the gold cloak across your shoulders. Your shoulders drop at the weight of it. 

“Allow me to escort you inside,” Cassian murmurs, hands lingering on your shoulders. 

You meet his gaze, nodding. 

You summon Ser Cassian to your chambers the following night, hearing his knuckles rap against the wood of your door just as you exit the bath. Your lady’s maid holds a dressing gown for you to step into, covering your wet, naked form. 

“My lady,” he says, clearly flustered by your state, the dressing gown barely covering your slick body. 

“Leave us,” you tell your lady who nervously scampers towards the door, shutting it behind her. 

Your hair is damp, sending rivers of bathwater down your neck, traveling through the valley of your breasts. 

“I can return when you are decent,” he manages to choke out.

“There is no need,” you assure him, “I am quite comfortable in your presence.”

Ser Cassian does not know where to look, he does not wish to offend you but is finding it increasingly difficult to focus.

“You once told me you wished for my happiness and protection,” you told him, “the latter is true. How are you supposed to assure the other?”

Cassian blinks slowly, eyes focused on your lips as you speak those words, the shimmering of water that rests on your upper lip. You look as though you are a river nymph who has come to seduce him to a watery grave. 

You begin to walk towards him, hands fiddling with the straps that tie your dressing gown securely around your waist. 

“I shall do whatever my lady commands,” Cassian says, eyes cast toward the floor. 

“I do not wish to command,” you say softly, “I wish to offer.”

Cassian meets your eyes then. He is very handsome, with dark brown eyes that match his curly locks. 

“You need not offer anything, my lady,” he assures you. 

“I want to,” you tell him. 

“If you do not wish this, that is fine,” you tell him, “I only ask you to leave and forget this conversation and we shall go about as we once were. Though I shall admit, I will feel rather foolish.”

Cassian watches the blush bloom across your cheeks. 

“Otherwise, you need only take my hand.”

You stretch your arm out toward him and for a moment he does not move. For a moment, your breath catches in your throat and you are sure he shall turn on his heel and leave your chambers. Then you shall be left alone once more. 

But he does not.

Instead, he places his rough hand in yours and allows you to guide him toward your bed, replacing your dressing robe with his lips, his tongue, and his hands. 

You have been happier as of late. Aemond has taken notice. You walk with a skip in your step, a flush on your cheeks. 

The maester has been said to visit your chambers weekly with a special brew. 

Aemond knows you have taken a lover. The knowledge curls in his stomach like a hissing snake, though he attempts to deny it. How hypocritical is he, to deny his wife happiness when he has found his own in another woman’s bed?

It isn’t until Maelor's name day celebration does he realize how furious your endeavors make him; the fire it ignites beneath your skin. 

The feast is a grand affair with singing and dancing, and several lords and ladies visiting from across the seven kingdoms. 

Aemond and you arrive together, but you quickly let go of his arm and make your way into the crowd. 

Alys is not present, as Alicent will not allow it. A paramour at court is scandalous in itself, she will not subject you to feast with her. 

Aemond keeps his eye on you, as you begin to dance. He watches the dreamlike look on your face, the way your cheeks redden and you cast your smile toward the floor as someone joins you.

He is a goldcloak, and Aemond recognizes him. The knight smiles down at you, entrapping you in a dance. Your smile widens as he whispers something to you, and your cheeks darken. Aemond feels a fire in his belly as he watches you dance with the knight, a strange sense of possessiveness flooding through him. 

Aemond moves through the dance quickly coming to your side. His hand finds yours dragging you toward the center of the dance floor. You struggle to keep up with his demanding pace, your wrist stinging from how tightly he holds you. 

The dance continues around you, people hardly noticing Aemond’s predatory circling of you.

“Is that who you desire?” he asks, voice low.

Your furrow your brow, a confused expression on your face.

“Is he whom you invited into your bed?” Aemond growls. 

“I did not think it mattered to you,” you quip back, anger evident in your tone.

“You choose a whoremonger for a paramour,” Aemond says sneering, trying to bait you. 

“And you a witch woman,” you snap, causing Aemond’s face to darken, “who I choose to spend my time with is of no concern to you.”

Aemond growls at this, an animalistic noise that comes from deep within his chest, that causes you to back up slightly. 

“You cannot have it both ways,” you tell him, noting his genuine anger. 

Aemond is breathing heavily, looking down at you, his mouth twisted in a sneer.

“You cannot have me, and her,” you continue feeling brave.

Aemond juts his chin out. 

“What makes you think I shall allow you to keep him?” he says referring to Ser Cassian.

You smirk then, stepping closer to him. 

“I shall just find someone else,” you tell him bitterly.

Aemond snaps forward, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you flush against him. The action sends a wave of warmth into your lower belly. You know you should be terrified, you should try to run screaming. But you do not. And when he brings his mouth to yours, you kiss him back.

When he leads you to your chambers, you let him.

When he roughly tears your dress from your body, you assist him. 

When he makes passionate love to you, nipping and biting your smooth flesh, you allow him to.

Aemond stays with you that night. 

Alys Rivers vanishes from the Red Keep before the sun rises. 

note: ooof im sweating 🥵

[merp0515]

Fanfiction Writer Apperation Post!

Ayo all Merp here! I hope everyone is having a great time whatever time zone you got. I'm a simply derpy ass artist that likes to draw stuff that the Internet has shown me! That includes lovely fanfiction stories I tend to read a lot about. Which is why this post is here to bring a HUGE appreciation for someone in the SMG4 community more from the SMG34 squad! My great friend and a badass from many projects featuring their own series such as "Next Step With You!", @shygirl4991 !

We all have known them from many spots that they are part of like the one they are doing with @lizaluvsthis in "Brewing Romance", "The Chains of a Fragile Soul" with @b-r-i-n-g-x , and "Spilt Into Three's/Six Splits For Four" with the artwork done by @alianarepasa !

They have also done some cool group collab with lots of people, bringing out the artworks each group puts out such as "Coffee Prince and The Frog" (collab with Liz and Aly), and "Shadow Vision" (Bringx, Liz and Aly)!

They never fail to be inspired by many other people that sometimes have ideas for our favorite gays but either don't have the time to do them or they want to do it but don't know how to put into words! Some of these beautiful ideas that came to life thanks to Shay's amazing writing skills are "Just A Dream", "Trade For You" ideas inspired by @therabbitdemon , and "Death Of SMG3" requested by @anartisticalniche !

I had the honor of making the cover art for their cute fluffy "Doll Confessions" fic they made a while back collabing with Bringx's adorable GMod photos she did! Even though what got me into their stories was through "Brewing Romance", there's another story that got me into them and had me always checking fanfiction sites to see if they made anything new and that's one of their many solo projects "Azure Potion!"

It's always fun making art covers for them or draw out characters they've created over time with the plethora of stories done by our lovely writer! I highly recommend checking out their other solo stories such as "Forklift Date", "Mistletoe Wars", "True Colors", "Trapped In a Bleakly Winter", and "A Shot of SMG34"!

There's definitely more stories they've written for these lovey gays but it's gonna take me a while to put them on here lol. Nonetheless while we artist have a blast in creating art for all your favorite fanfictions, please don't forget to show some love to the brains behind the whole thing! Without them, we wouldn't be able to enjoy making all the amazing art to show our love and appreciation for ALL of their hard work! As one that does both art and writing (even though I don't really post many stories on here because my writing style is still a work in progress), I'd love to be recognized by both my art AND the writing I do! Remember to see who's the original writer first before commenting anything!

Anyways……

THANK YOU SHAY FOR ALL THE BEAUTIFUL STORIES YOU CREATED FOR THE FANDOM! WE ALL LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOUR HARD WORK LAD!

Never stop doing what you love and keep on writing! 😄

And to all you lovely writers in this fandom. We love and appreciate all the hard work you all do as well! Keep on writing and create lovely stories to share with everyone! :)

Have a mini colleague of some the art I made for Shay's stories in the past including the cover I did for "Doll Confessions"!

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox (5)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, violence, swearing ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist Song used in this chapter: Ooh to be ah (Kajagoogoo)

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

In the morning, she was woken from a deep sleep by Helaena saying that breakfast was ready and that if she felt like it, she could take a shower afterwards. She rubbed her eyes, not knowing for a moment where she was or what had happened.

She thanked her and swallowed loudly, remembering the scenes from the night before, wondering for a moment if it was real or if she had just dreamt it. She quickly unlocked her phone to see her message history and froze.

Oh fuck.

She pressed her lips together thinking only of how embarrassingly pleasurable what she had experienced with him was, a closeness that probably surprised both her and him.

He enjoyed it.

He wouldn't have done it if it had been any other way.

She thought she couldn't screw it up.

She felt something for him.

She was surprised to see that in the kitchen, besides their mother, was also their father, whom she saw extremely rarely, from what Helaena told her he was often away on long business trips.

"Good morning." She said softly, and he nodded with a smile, swallowing loudly a piece of bread roll he had just taken a bite of.

"Good morning."

She decided to eat something light and settled for cornflakes with milk. She almost choked on them when Aemond appeared out of the blue, apparently he had just taken a shower because his hair was still damp.

He sat down opposite her and gave her a meaningful glance that made her hot, then reached his hand for the pancakes, involuntarily running his tongue over his lower lip.

She remembered the touch of his lips on hers, how soft and firm they were, how well he kissed, and lowered her gaze, swallowing loudly as she continued eating, listening to the exchange between Aegon and his mother.

"Your tutor says you can't concentrate and you're constantly looking through your phone instead of listening to what the teachers are saying." She said lowly, apparently hoping her husband would pick up on the subject as well. Mr Targaryen looked at her surprised and grunted, glancing at his son.

"Is that true, Aegon?"

Aegon rolled his eyes, combing through his hair with an impatient hand gesture, and snorted.

"It's Sunday for goodness sake, can I have at least one day of peace?"

After breakfast she thanked their parents for their hospitality, grabbed her things and decided she would go home, not wanting to take up any more of their time, she had to study for a test on Monday anyway.

Helaena hugged her and thanked her again for the lovely time, she glanced out of the corner of her eye at her brother who was sitting at the table looking at her with an impenetrable gaze.

They had not written to each other.

She wanted to, was even dying over not having contact with him, but on the other hand she thought that she couldn't keep nagging him now, that she had promised herself that she would let it all go at a leisurely pace, that hurrying might only discourage him.

She wondered if he was also thinking about her and what had happened between them.

The next day she got up very early and ran to take a shower, excited to see him again at the bus stop, to talk again. She was afraid that it would be awkward and weird, but at the same time she couldn't get the smile off her face. She decided to wear her favourite black short-sleeved dress with a collar, fastened with big white buttons and topped it off with black trainers.

She showed up well ahead of schedule, however, she couldn't stand to be home anymore out of excitement. She could feel her legs bouncing with excitement as she sat on the bench.

She swallowed loudly when she saw him walking with his backpack thrown over his shoulder from across the street, earphones in his ears as usual. Not knowing why, she got up from her seat as he walked closer, looking at him with big eyes.

For a moment they stared at each other, not knowing how to act, she could feel her heart pounding hard.

He pressed his lips together and looked away, swallowing loudly, without even taking his earphones out of his ears.

Something was wrong.

She didn't know why she felt such a tight squeeze of disappointment when he didn't sit next to her on the bus, but somewhere in the back, sitting with his hood pulled over his head, his forehead pressed against the glass.

He took a few steps back for some reason.

She swallowed loudly, feeling tears under her eyelids, turning the other way, wondering what she had done wrong.

She wiped her cheek with a trembling hand, ashamed that he had broken her heart with such ease.

She didn't seek his gaze or his attention, subconsciously sensing that he didn't want it, trying to focus on the class but feeling only a tightness in her throat and discomfort in her stomach. She thought she wanted to maintain her dignity, that she wouldn't run after him and beg on her knees for an explanation.

If he wanted to move away and changed his mind, so be it.

She tried not to look at him while he and a few other people stood at the bus stop waiting for their bus to arrive. She shuddered, however, when she heard someone say his name, a low, feminine voice.

She turned over her shoulder and noticed how a college-looking girl, much older than them threw her arms around him, she had long, beautiful raven-black hair, she was dressed in a smart, light-coloured coat and long, black heeled boots.

She looked so mature.

"Why aren't you answering my messages? Are you angry with me?" She asked, touching his arm in a way that suggested she knew him very well.

She saw him give her a quick, frightened look, as if he was uncomfortable that she was watching the scene, and then swallowed loudly, tense.

"Not here, Alys." He replied so quietly that she barely heard it.

"Are you ashamed of me?" She giggled, a genuine smile on her lips, her eyes bright, intense green, beautiful.

She felt tears under her eyelids again and turned her back to them, quickly putting her earphones in her ears, not wanting to hear this discussion, turning on 'Ooh to Be Ah' by Kajagoogoo on her phone, feeling the tears run down her face.

She stared dully ahead, wondering if they were together, if she had miscalculated in thinking that he was inexperienced and lost just like her.

She imagined him the way she wanted to see him.

She boarded the bus first, not caring if he was still talking to her or not. She sat down in the first better available seat, and when she saw that he immediately sat next to her she pressed her lips together and stood up, wanting to change.

She felt him grab her arm, felt him say something to her, but she pulled away from him.

"Now do you want to talk?" She growled, not even taking her earphones out of her ears, not even caring what he had to say, walking to the other end of the bus, tired and frustrated by his behaviour, by the fact that he didn't know what he wanted, by deciding for himself when they were supposed to talk and when they weren't.

She wasn't a toy but a human being who felt.

She figured real friends didn't behave like that.

She waited until everyone had left before heading for the exit and saw through the window that he hadn't gone home but was waiting, his earphones hanging by his neck from under his sweatshirt. She squeezed her eyes shut, sighing heavily.

Fuck.

She stepped off the bus, pretending not to see him, but he immediately followed her, grabbing her by her arm, turning her violently in his direction, ripping her earphones from her ears.

"− what −"

"− can you fucking wait? − I'm talking to you −" He growled, and she pulled away from him, frowning her eyebrows, furious.

"Just an hour ago you were pretending you didn't know me, my friend." She said with a sneer, turning away from him again, his hand again on her arm, this time clenched much tighter.

"That hurts." She muttered as he turned her again violently, holding her wrist, his jaw clenched, fury in his eyes.

"− just − just stop for fucking second and listen − okay? −" He asked, and she sighed heavily, looking away, standing still, feeling like her heart was in her throat.

She didn't know if she wanted to hear what he had to say.

"My ex-girlfriend texted me last night saying she wanted to meet me. That she misses me. I couldn't recover from her for a long time. I didn't know anymore what or if I felt for her after everything that happened between us… you know. Fuck. I just wanted to think it all through. Alone. And instead of giving me time, like you did, she came to our school nagging me. Okay?" He asked lowly, leaning over her, and she looked at him with a pained expression.

"Whenever you have to think about something are you going to pretend you don't know me? Don't worry, from me you will never experience nagging. I don't want a friend who cares only about his comfort. I will not be your secondary solace. I regret everything that has happened between us." She said with pain and disappointment, pulling away from him and moving towards her house without looking at him.

It took me a long time to recover from her.

I didn't know how I felt.

He still loved her.

He still loved her, and yet he himself proposed that she stay with him, that she kiss him.

He wanted to see if it would feel good with another girl?

To feel better?

She threw herself down on her bed as soon as she got back into her room and burst into loud sobs.

She felt used.

She believed him.

She believed him to have pure, sincere intentions.

She pressed her lips together as she saw her display light up in the evening, the screen showing that she had received a new message from him.

She shook her head and went back to reading her textbook, not wanting to talk to him, not wanting to listen to his explanations, not wanting to be his friend or anyone else.

After half an hour, however, she got another message and then another and sighed heavily, heartbroken, wondering why he suddenly cared. She figured he wanted her now because she didn't need him, but if she just got his interest back then he would pretend not to know her again.

She reached for her phone and unlocked it, going into her messages with a pounding heart.

She pressed her lips together reading his last two messages and swallowed loudly, feeling hot in her stomach.

I told Alys I'm sorry, but for now I want to focus on a relationship with someone else and by that someone I mean you.

Oh shit.

What was she going to say to that?

She sat and looked at the display, panicked.

She herself no longer knew what she felt, what she wanted.

She shuddered when suddenly a new message appeared below previous ones.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back.

She decided she would do just that.

That she wouldn't answer him, she would just think about it.

Let him know what it was like.

The next day it was he who was already waiting at the bus stop when she left the house, as soon as he saw her he immediately pulled his earphones out of his ears, looking at her with wide eyes. She walked up to him and they stood like that for a while in silence.

"…did you get my messages?" He asked lowly, uncertainly, and she nodded. He swallowed loudly and hummed, as if he was thinking about something.

"Shall we go truant?"

____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes