#'babe I had to force you into understanding marriage' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedgito · 2 years

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Okay but husband Eddie begging reader for a baby and then fucking her with so much love please PLEASE BABE IM CRAVING THIS

author’s note: this idea sent me down a rabbit hole of emotions, jesus christ

cw: 18+ (minors, shoo!), fem!reader, breeding kink (sorta), lots of fluff and comfort to an emotional reader, just really sappy shit y’all

word count: 1.1k

It was a constant debate between the both of you. Marriage first, kids later. And now, with marriage out of the way, it was the only thing on Eddie’s mind.

“Please, baby,” He was on the ascent of a rant, and he would hit the peak soon, “just one.”

“Stop saying it like that, Eddie.” It made it feel like he didn’t understand the weight of what he was saying. Just one, just one. It was never, just one. “Kids are a serious deal.”

He moves in closer, hand settling around the dip in your waist, the other coming up to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you against him. You smile, soft and warm, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t love having a mini Munson running around this house.” He thinks fondly, half him and half you, the tiny pitter patter of feet running through the house, a nest of beautiful ringlets curls bouncing with every step. “We’d make cute babies and you know it.”

You made a noise of discontent, “Let’s just hope they take after you—all that beautiful hair, cute button nose,” You poke his nose gently, watching his face scrunch up. “But seriously, Eddie, this isn’t something to joke about. This is a lifelong commitment.”

“Baby, I’m committed to this, as long as you need me, as long as our kids need me.” His voice is raw, like he’s holding back emotion. It was often that you saw him like this, always holding himself together for you—not the other way around. You frowned slightly, moving your hand to cup his face, rubbing at the apple of his cheek with your thumb, smoothing out his worry lines.

“Let’s try, then.” You say softly, “We’ll see where it takes us.”

.ೃ࿐

“Fuck, baby—God, I love you so much.” His thrusts are slow, but forceful, taking his sweet, sweet time. He's making those soft noises into your shoulder, fingers digging into the delicate skin of your thigh, hip pulled up higher on one particular snap of his hips, forcing his name out in a cry, and then again, and again.

"Eddie, please," You beg for no real rhyme or reason, you just wanted him--wanted him to hold you, kiss you, bring you right to the brink of pleasure and back again, wanted to be consumed by him, "please."

It's a silent plea, the words hanging off the tip of your tongue. Your hands grip the sheets in anguish, the feeling of being so full off of Eddie's dick that you can't even think straight. Sex was always special with him, he always made sure to take care of you.

"You drive me fuckin' crazy." His voice is strained, barely above a whisper. "Just want to fuck you full--want to see how good you'd look carry my babies." It was different from the usual dirty talk, but given the subject matter, it made all the sense in the world. It peaked an interest in you that you had no idea existed, not until he's speaking those words to you, in the confines of the four walls of your bedroom, a place sacred for you and him. "Can't even think how beautiful you'd look, all round and pregnant."

You try to force the small bubble of laughter back down, but it escapes you. It feels ridiculous, but you can't find it in you to ask him to stop. "What? Too much?" Eddie asks, coming back to earth for the time being, having lost himself in the moment.

"No, no." Your breathless when you answer, hands resting against your chest as his pace slows again, taking the chance to look you in the eye. "It's--it's really good. I don't mind."

"Good." He agrees, leaning forward to nip at the skin on your jawline, hands gripping your waist, thumbs barely grazing the apex of your thighs, pulling you flush against him, burying his dick as deep as it would go. "Gotta make sure it all stays in, right?"

You nod earnestly, bottom lip pulled between your teeth, gasped pulled out of your chest on a particularly rough thrust of his hips. "Need you to come in me, baby." Your voice is wrecked, "Want you to come in."

Eddie's fucking up into you with fervor, somehow still maintaining his soft exterior in the way he's peppering kisses along your chest, your face, until he's pulling you in for a deep, bruising kiss that leaves you moaning into his mouth, his hand reaching between the both of you is an afterthought, until he's bringing you to an orgasm quicker than you expect, clinging on to him like your life depended on it. "Oh, Eddie, baby—" You sob, unexpectedly overcome with emotion.

Eddie comes almost immediately after, it hitting him just as hard, hips buried to the hilt inside of you. The thing about Eddie, despite how often he speaks up during sex, is almost silent when he comes. His eyebrows knitted together, mouth hung open slightly, eyes shut tight—like he can’t seem to catch his breath for a moment. He collapses on you, still mindful of his body weight, before rolling off onto his side.

It isn’t until a few seconds after that he realizes you’d been crying, a mess of tears and small, quiet sobs.

“Hey, hey—“ His voice is soothing, a soft hush that you found helped keep you grounded. He always knew just the right way to comfort you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You respond, wiping away the few tears that had ran down your face. It seemed silly, the idea that you could get so emotional out of nowhere, but the thing was—you couldn’t help how loved Eddie made you feel. “Everything is perfect.”

And it was, it truly was. Your life, his life—it melded together perfectly.

“I love you,” It was his special way of saying ‘goodnight’ or ‘sweet dreams’, but it also meant exactly what he wanted to say, those three little words being the driving force in your relationship. It was reassurance on bad days, the feeling of fondness on the days you couldn’t stop laughing, but it was also the feeling of anticipation, of what you had to look forward to in your future together, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

You lean forward slowly, kissing the bridge of his nose. His eyes were heavy, half closed—both from exhaustion and post-orgasmic bliss.

“I want this to work, but part of me—” Eddie laughs into your cheek, hiding his face away from view, “I really just want it to fail a few times so I can fuck you like that again.”

“Eddie!” You squeal, swatting him playfully against his arm. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Would fuck you again, right now, if I wasn’t so tired,” You laugh, burying his face into your chest, running his curls through your fingers. It helped him fall asleep faster, he speaks through a yawn, “but, that’s why there’s always tomorrow.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #my writing #blurbs #1kfic #5kfic

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hotchfiles · 2 months

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↪ day eight. choices — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [tell me to regret it] ❞

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: aaron prides himself of making good choices. until he makes one he regrets. content warnings: not proofread, pretty sure only one gender mark (miss) by the very very end, a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, happy ending. light mention of sex. word count: 1.1k

at first, aaron prided himself on making good choices, at least after graduating high school. all his choices were thought out to the best outcome. his major, law school, his job, haley.

he then prided himself on standing by his choices. even if the outcome wasn’t the best. even if it wasn’t the easiest choice to make, he stood by them. he took the bullet, he accepted the consequences.

when haley filed for a divorce he wanted to fight it, he did, but aaron knew she had spent too much of her life dealing with his choices. he knew it wasn’t fair for her to fight for a broken marriage because his career was too important to him.

every single day he chose to pick up the phone, he chose to leave, he chose to work after hours. so he signed the divorce papers, letting her free to make her own life decisions.

whenever the bau faced repercussions for their actions on the field on any cases, he took the heat at all times, the eyes of the higher ups were always on him and he took advantage of that to let the team work more freely. if needed, he would take the fall and it would’ve been his choice. and he would be happy with it.

there was one decision though, one choice that he made that kept heaving on his mind. he made it, he thought it was the right one at the time and he was living through the consequences.

still every time he saw your eager eyes or heard you laughing at something emily said, that sharp pang in his heart would take his mind to the last time you truly talked.

so much so he ended up calling you to his office, not thinking clearly, not planning it out. he just heard your voice at the end of the day, happy, laughing, apparently not suffering from the distance he had chosen to put between you two and for once he was selfish with every intention to be so.

“need help with anything, boss?” the title tastes bitter in your tongue and it hits aaron just the same. he was hotch. and then aaron. old man. babe and love. never boss.

boss came after he told you your relationship couldn’t go on. it would hurt your career and his. boss was now the only way you referred to him, as that was what he chose to be.

his attempts to lock eyes with you don’t go unnoticed, but they remain unfruitful as you focus on his desk and your fingers fidget with your necklace.

“not exactly… i–i just wanted to talk to you. we haven’t spoken privately in a while.” your eyes immediately find his, the hurt and the anger filling them in a way he never saw before, he felt it piercing through his soul and he almost regrets not thinking it through before calling you in. almost.

“there’s a reason for that. we don’t have anything to discuss privately.”

“does it have to be like this?”

“i don’t understand, what do you want me to say, hotchner? that we can be friends? pretend nothing ever happened between us?” you’re both glad the door behind you is closed, even if it’s late and everyone has left by now. your voice is slightly raising more and more with each response you give him.

that’s not what he wants, he selfishly wants to hear your voice crack while speaking to him, he wants you to tell him you miss him, to force out of his tongue what he desperately needs to tell you: that he regrets the choice he made that night.

he regrets being afraid when you never were. that he’s sorry he pushed you away when you were always an open book. that seeing you seemingly happy and moving right on with your life was killing him because he couldn’t even begin to think of doing the same.

aaron glances quickly at his window to make sure once more that the bullpen is empty and gets up, getting just close enough that you won’t leave. “don’t you miss me? u–us?” funnily enough, his voice is the one cracking up as he speaks.

“aaron, don’t be cruel.” your voice is barely a whisper, not similar to the one you showed him minutes before, your eyes divert from him again, knowing that if you look at him too much you might tear up and that’s not you.

“i’m not doing that.”

“you are. you sleep with me, tell me you love me. you push me away, break up with me. and now this? just… don’t.” it hits him sharper than a knife how hard he hurt you then. he’s a profiler, he should’ve noticed it, instead he chose to notice only the happy smiley façade you put up to work every day so you could face him.

he usually wouldn’t do this in the middle of an argument but maybe he needs to start reevaluating how he makes his choices and this is one of those, so he pulls your hand and although you flinch at his touch you don’t pull away, so he hugs you tight, your arms are dead limbs by your side but his are strong around you, as is his cologne filling your senses, both bring you that familiar feel of safety.

“i’ve been foolish, and afraid and selfish. and possibly a handful of other adjectives. but i would never purposefully be cruel to you.” aaron pulls away from the embrace only slightly, taking your face with both his hands so you can see how true his words are by the look on his eyes. you begin to feel your arms again, sliding them up to his chest where you feel the rapidness of his heartbeat. “i miss you, give me a chance to try this again?”

you’re not certain it will work, but you know that he means his words. and you know your heart is beating just as fast as his because just being embraced by him meant everything. so you nod once slowly, seeing his lips turn into a grin as he pulls you into a gentle kiss.

his lips taste like hope, hope he won’t make any decision he will regret again. but mostly, it tastes like cheap coffee, which causes you to laugh into the kiss.

“is this all because i stopped bringing you coffee from the coffee shop?” aaron laughs out loud, a laughter unlikely to be heard by most people, but then again, you are not most people. he shakes his head in disbelief at what you’re saying and licks his lips.

“you’re getting way too good at noticing details, miss liaison.”

“just when it comes to you.”

#lari writes sometimes #lari march hotchness #marchhotchness #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 16 days

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A Song of heart and blood - part five | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: After a long wait, the fifth part is finally there! I hope you didn't forget about this story... In case you did, please give it a re-read. The last two parts will follow soon (for real)

masterpost

—

Was there a day when Daemon Targaryen wasn’t plotting and scheming? When he wasn’t trying to secure his succession to the Iron Throne, he was coming up with war strategies or helping his great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter change the future of an entire dynasty.

He didn’t understand the magical side of your story, how exactly you had traversed through the stones, but he believed you.

As the sky gradually darkened, you shared with him the future you knew — the dance. The demise of King Viserys, the crowning of the usurper, the Velaryons’ betrayal to Rhaenyra, plunge culminating in Daemon's final breath, Rhaenyra’s barbarous death, and more.

Daemon wished he had brought a strong alcohol of some sort. Your tales were very difficult to hear at times.

‘’We have to stop this war from happening, Daemon.’’

The prince nodded, his gaze fixed on the flames dancing in the stone fireplace before you. ‘’How do you suggest we do so? You suppressed the wrongly-crowned king before he could be born, but no moon tea will stop Alicent from birthing another babe. My brother is determined to have a son, and he'll persist until one is born to his young bride.’’

Being wedded to a king so young and with such a considerable age difference must not be pleasant for her. She wears a crown and owns beautiful dresses, but she was forced into a role she never desired all because her father aimed to have his blood on the Iron Throne. You almost felt bad for Alicent, but you couldn’t erase the horrible things she did — the things she will do.

A reflection struck you. ‘’The king declared Rhaenyra his heir, but if you were to marry and have a babe of pure Targaryen blood, would the king be willing to reconsider your succession to the throne? His and Alicent’s children will never be pure Targaryen blood, yours could.’’

Daemon turned his head toward you, raising an eyebrow. ‘’Are you suggesting we marry?’’

Air got caught in your throat, causing you to choke. ‘’No! No, I…I was thinking of the princess. She is young, but—’’

‘’Marrying my niece has been on my mind in the past, but I’ve grown out of that idea. But you, you are of pure blood. Born from another time, but you carry the blood of the dragon.’’

Shaking your head, you stood. ‘’I cannot marry you, Daemon.’’

‘’You said you were in great danger from the hands of Otto Hightower. Marriage would ensure your safety.’’

You shook your head again, laughing at the insane words that left the prince’s mouth. ‘’You’ve lost your mind.’’

Dameon suddenly looked serious, any ounce of humor wholly erased from his earlier easygoing features. ‘’You are my blood, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.’’ He combed a hand through your hair, pulling your face away and forcing you to look at him. ‘’You’re safe with me. I swear it.’’

Every bone of your body believed him. If you hadn’t felt safe in his presence, you would never have revealed him your secret. You would never have come to him for help.

You closed your eyes, drinking in the feeling of his touch. ‘’But I can’t stay forever,’’ you said, reopening your eyes. ‘’I’ve played enough with the future; a marriage would have significant repercussions.’’

Daemon’s finger ghosted across your cheekbone, sliding downwards until it settled on the corner of your mouth, gently caressing your pout with the rough pad of his finger. His eyes were contemplative, thoughtful. Gradually, his touch gently lowered, your decollete now the point of his focus. His index finger ran a smooth ring around the chain at your neck, a ghost of a perplexed frown forming on his face.

‘’I don’t care.’’

‘’Birthing an heir myself will change the whole lineage, Daemon. By doing this, my sister and I may not exist in the future.’’

‘’You said yourself that you were from my lineage—’’

‘’Your and Rhaenyra’s lineage,’’ you corrected. Was he not listening to what you were saying? ‘’If you don’t marry her, your children won’t be born and therefore I cannot exist.’’

Your eyebrows furrowed as a question echoed in your head. If you disrupt too much of time, will you vanish? Unfortunately, there was no way of finding the answer to your question. Not many had dangled with time-traveling, let alone written about it.

‘’How long do we have?’’ Daemon asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

‘’I don’t know,’’ you said truthfully, lowering your eyes to the stone floor.

Daemon lifted your chin, tipping your head up to look at him. ‘’Let’s not waste time, then.’’ He closed the space between you, his lips molding perfectly with yours.

You angled your head to deepen the kiss, not realizing how much you missed the taste of him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, nimble fingers burying in his silver hair as he pulled you against him, his clothed body flush against yours.

Then, you were suddenly reminded of Rhea Royce. ‘’Don't you already have a wife?’’

⁂

All Daemon had said before leaving on Caraxes was that he had a business to take care of. Assuming it had to do with his wife being in the way of your marriage, you didn’t ask questions. You wouldn’t like the answers.

He could have it dissolved by the king. His marriage with Rhea Royce had never been consummated, which would leave her honor intact. But Daemon had mentioned Runestone. Hopefully he’ll spare the woman’s life, you didn’t want to indirectly have blood on your hands.

To put your thoughts to rest, you busied yourself exploring the castle. The corridors echoed with the history of your house, each step revealing a new layer of the past.

Eventually, you stumbled upon one of the bedchambers, situated atop of the castle. Pushing open the heavy door, you stepped into the large chamber. Like the rest of the castle, the walls adorned large dragons crafted into stone. You ran your hand over the stone, smiling.

Dany would love this.

Curtains were draped above the large windows, a bright red shade — Targaryen red. It made the room more elegant and matched with the couch cushions. How nice must it be to sit there and look at the sunset.

Lastly, your eyes found the bed. It was smaller than the bed you shared with Daemon and the velvet bedding was slightly dusty from not having been used in a while. You laid on it regardless, tired from all your travels.

⁂

The hour was late when Daemon returned to Dragonstone, the moon casting a silver glow over the island. He should have gone to bed — with you —, but the weight of his responsibilities pressed upon him. There was no rest for the prince tonight.

In the dim light of the candlelit room, he sat at a desk and wrote a message to a Septon he trusted would keep his tongue, arranging for the discreet ceremony that would bind you and him in the morrow. It had to be done rapidly and in the most secrecy.

When the devastating news of Rhea Royce’s passing would inevitably travel across the realm, he knew that as her husband, the first suspect would be him. Their marriage was purely political. His dislike for the Lady of Vale wasn’t a secret. But if whispers of Daemon’s wedding to you were to reach the people’s ears, it would strengthen their suspicion that Daemon had something to do with it.

⁂

You had never seen a traditional Valerian marriage before. You had only read about it in books. The entire ritual involved blood to keep with the Targaryen legacy of being wed by blood and fire.

A breeze coming from the bay blew over the hill, causing your silver waves to dance in the foggy air. You had removed most of your braids for the ceremony, letting your hair cascade down your back. Atop your head sat a traditional piece of Valerian headgear, given to you by Daemon. You assumed it was old, so you treated it with the utmost care.

The Septon stood between you and Daemon, your vibrant marital robes contrasting with his dark clothes. ‘’We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. In the sight of the Seven, I, hereby, seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words: Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.’’

Although this marriage won’t last forever, you wished Dany was present for the ceremony. When you were little, you and her would fantasize about getting married and the beautiful dress you’d be wearing on your big day — and the lucky man who you would wed to.

‘’Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,’’ Daemon repeated, his violet eyes looking into yours. He was so beautiful.

The Septon turned to you, silently telling you it was your turn.

‘’I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,’’ Daemon continued.

You repeated the words, then, using a dragonglass blade, Daemon cut the middle of your bottom lip. He took blood that was drawn from the blade and smeared it on your forehead. You mirrored his action, smearing his blood on his forehead. The ritual felt witchcraft-y, but whispers had it that your Valyrian ancestors used magic to build this very castle.

You handed back the dagger and, in turn, Daemon cut a line in his palm. You followed suit, hissing as you drew a matching cut on your own skin. Blood trickled from the fresh cut before clasping your hands together, letting your and Daemon’s blood mix together.

‘’Blood of two, joined as one,’’ the Septon said, placing a ribbon with a traditional pattern and tying it over your joined hands as blood dripped from your injuries and to the ground. ‘’Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.”

A chalice brimming with wine was passed to you, and you sipped from it before passing it to your soon-to-be husband. Even standing there, you almost couldn’t believe you were marrying this beautiful man.

Daemon leaned down, pressing his cold lips against your own. You could taste blood through the kiss, unpleasing and metallic, but you ignored it and kissed him harder.

—

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#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen imagine #a song of heart and blood #hotd

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man3at3r-mp4 · 2 months

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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖇- 𝕳𝖍 𝖝 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Chapter 3- Family feud

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 (𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞)

𝐁𝐲 𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐚 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐧

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

Prologue Chapter 3.5

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

"YOUR HIGHNESS!!!"

Liam's loud, shreeky voice called out to you. But you could care less, as you stormed out of the ball room, practically ripping off the uncomfortable and itchy gown you were forced to be fitted in.

The clicking of your hooves tapped against the crystal tiles of the floor, as you stomped off. You didn't know, you just wanted to get out of there. You picked up your pace as you heard the door slam open, and three pairs of footsteps following after you.

"Oh c'mon babe, where are you going?" You heard Adam call after you.

"Somewhere away from the three is you!" you snapped back, as you crossed your arms, one of your ears flicking in irritation.

"Your highness!" Liam spoke up, following not far after you, Adam and Lute.. "I understand your frustrations, but you shouldn't run off like that!" he clutched the schedule to his chest.

"Your highness, don't act to brash" Lute scoffs. Your eyebrow twitched at her words, but you continued to walk.

"Well I sure don't.." the exorcist angel quipped, "not to be a dick or anything, but you running off mid way through my sentence was a bitch move"

Your eye twitched, as you shot Adam a glare over your shoulder, causing him to blink as he shrugged his shoulders in confusion, "what?"

That got you to stop, you swiftly turned around and gave the other male the harshest glare you could muster, "What the hell do you mean WHAT?!?" Your ears were slightly pinned down. Apparently your yelling caught them both off guard.

"I just found out that my sister agreed to give you my hand in marriage and no one bothered to FUCKING tell me!" You growled, stomping your hooves on the ground, you were so enraged you didn't notice how you actually created a dent in the floor from how hard you were stomping.

"Your highness, language-" Liam interrupted.

"OH KISS MY ASS LIAM!" You pointed your finger at him, as steam huffed out of your nose. This caused the said Angel, to squeak as he shrieked back.

"Woah babe, chill out-"

"CHILL OUT?!?" You only got louder, "I'M BEING MARRIED OFF LIKE SOME FUCKING 16 CENTURY PRINCESS!! NO ONE EVEN BOTHERED TO ASK ME!" as you continued on with your rant, you were unaware of how you were actually getting taller. Actually, you were growing in size, as your usual e/c were now replaced with a golden glow, your horns elongated and sharpened, as you continued to grow. "YOU DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO ASK ME! YOU WENT STRAIGHT TO SERA!" Your voice deepened and became more echoey as you finally stopped growing. Your head touched the ceiling, as you had to get on all fours and duck your head down to Adam and Liam's level. You blew a puff of steam out of your nose at the exorcist, as you finished.

"Holy shit..." Adam murmured, his eyes wide in surprise. Liam and Lute held similar expressions. You expected him, to apologize and be a bit scared if not intimidated of you but this is Adam we're talking about.

"YOU CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING KAIJU?!?" He shouts, "oh that's so fucking sick!".

Liam and Lute shared a look before the female exorcist sighed, "Sir...I don't think this is the right ti-"

"Shut up Lute." Adam cut her off, resulting in Lute groaning and rolling her eyes. You blinked, taken aback from his response.

"Really is that what you're focusing on? And not the rest of what I said?" You asked, in a deadpan voice.

"Well duh, you never fucking told me you could do this" he says, as he placed his hands on his hips, glancing at you up in down. "Fuck, this is kinda doing it for me. I'd thought I'd never be into the whole size difference thing but maybe for our honeymoon you could-"

You growled again, your hooves scraping against the ground as you released another puff of steam from your nose. Liam took notice of this and shrieked, "Adam! Cut it out!" He pleaded. "You're making it worse!"

Lute nodded, "Sir, you're only angering him even more! Can you save your horny bullshit for later!" She said through gritted teeth gesturing over to you.

Adam huffs, "Fuck, fine..whatever I'll wait for him to be done with his little temper tantrum.."

"TEMPER TANTRUM?!?" You roared again.

"Oh no..." Liam squeaked, shrinking back into his wings. Lute only face palmed, at Adam's stupidity.

Fortunately, before you could do anything a familiar voice interrupted you.

"What is the meaning of this?!" A motherly voice spoke, It was Sera. Her voice booming throughout the room, as her wings folded gracefully against her back.

"Is everything okay?!?" A familiar younger looking angel called out, it was Emily and it was obvious she was concerned by her slight pout and furrowed eyebrows.

They both gasped as they noticed your monstrous form. "Y/n!!" Emily cried, as she quickly flew over. "What happened?" She frowned.

Meanwhile Sera was a lot less gentle with her tone. "Y/n! Stop this nonsense at once, whatever you're angry at shouldn't warrant this reaction!" She scoffed. "You're shaking the entire palace! Everyone in heaven can hear you!"

You huffed, "Well maybe I wouldn't be so fucking angry, if I didn't just find out I'm getting married!"

Sera's eyes widened,"how did you-" she cut herself off, as the realization settled into her brain, she shot a quick glare over to Adam. "Adam! I thought we agreed we'd tell him after he finished with his duties for the day.."

The said Angel shrugged, "You really expected me to wait the entire day? No bitch, it's not my fault you're so fucking busy..". Sera only rolled her eyes in response, she then turned back to face you.

"Y/n, I know this isn't an ideal situation to learn about your engagement but you must stop this nonsense at once." She sounded stern, as she still tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy in her tone.

"No! This isn't nonsense! I'm justifiably angry!" You groaned. "You always do this Sera! You make decisions about my life and never fucking ask me!"

"Language."

You growled in response, you went to speak again but Emily interrupted. "(Y/n)...please, I know you're angry but don't lash out at anyone, please. I'm sure we can resolve this if we just talk..?" She suggested. Your eyes softened a bit, as you looked into your sister's eyes. You let out another huff before, you began to shrink back into your normal size.

Sera and the others visibly relaxed as you retreated back to your regular size. You fixed the crown that laid sideways on your head, before soothing out your clothes. "Okay...I'll let you explain yourself..." you grumbled, crossing your arms.

Sera sighed, "I know you're upset" 'upset is an understatement' you thought, as you listened to your sister speak. "But, I made the decision to accept Adam's proposal because I knew it would be good for you, it would be good for all of us."

You raised a brow, "how exactly?"

"Your union with Adam, will provide a good service not only here but on earth. Love is a fundamental part of heaven, your marriage with Adam will symbolize love and happiness to the human. It'd help spread hope across the globe and help mortals stray away from sin"

"But what about my happiness??" You asked. "I don't want to seem selfish..but everything I've ever done has been for the humans or for heaven...I don't even know half of my subjects? I've never even been to the earth." You scoffed. "How do you even know this'll work?"

"I have faith it will." She responds, though it felt like there was something else she wasn't telling you.

"Faith?" You repeated. "I'm in an arranged marriage all based on your faith?" You growled.

"(Y/n) don't.." you heard Liam meekly whisper.

"(Y/n)..," Sera warned, narrowing her eyes.

"Y'know Sera " you spat out your sister's name like it was venom. "It seems like you're willing to do A LOT of things for faith huh?" You scoffed. "Like when you forced all your societal expectations on me !." You watched as everyone in the room stiffened.

"Y/n!" Liam said, "you can't-"

"I can! I'm sick of this! I'm sick of everything! You always treat me like a child! All of you do! I'm 23 years old! I'm not some naive little boy anymore Sera!" You huffed.

"You throwing this outburst isn't really helping me see that, is it now?" Sera replied, matching your sass.

Your eye twitched, as you glared up at your sister. "Go to hell, Sera." You spat. Causing her eyes to widen, and for Emily and Liam to gasp. You could see Lute narrow her eyes a bit.

"Y/n you do NOT speak to me that way!" Sera commanded, as her anger grew so did the eyes that began to appear in her hair as she retained a slight glow to them. "Being angry is one thing but you do Not raise your voice at me!"

"There you go again, you're treating me like a child! I-" Emily then finally butted in.

"Y/n I know you're up about your engagement to Adam but we think it'll be a good idea.."

Your form slouched, as your tone grew quiet. "Wait...we?..." you frowned. "Emily..." you glanced down at her, obvious hurt in your eyes. "You knew...did the others-" Emily frowned, averting her gaze as he hesitantly nodded, giving you confirmation the rest of the seraphim knew and signed off on your engagement.

Your eyes welled with tears, as you backed away. Everyone knew about your apparent engagement, except you. It was one thing for Sera to make decisions for you but for Emily and the others too...it hurt. Emily was usually your aid for guidance and knowledge when you couldn't get it from Sera. She always told you the truth....but she made this life changing decision without even asking you about it.

You sniffled, you felt a bit embarrassed for beginning to cry in front of everyone. It sent you back to your preschool years when you remembered being scolded for being a crybaby and too emotional. But you couldn't help it now, you felt betrayed and you didn't know how else to handle this.

At the sound of your sniffling, Sera's glare softened as well as everyone's posture. Instead of being tense you could feel them begin to pity you.

Surprisingly, Adam made the first move. "Y/n babe.." he began, his voice unusually soft. "Why don't you relax and we meet up later and-" he reached out to place his hand on your shoulder, but you slapped it away.

"Don't fucking touch me." You spat, hiccuping on your words as turned and dashed down the hall. You heard shouts of your name but you didn't care. You just wanted to get away from everyone right now.

Emily reached out to stop you, but Sera held her back. "No, let him go. Maybe some time alone is what he needs to digest everything" she sighed. "I hope..."

You slammed the door open of your room, shutting it behind you as you slugged your way over to your bed before face planting against the soft silk sheets. You let out a loud sigh as you did.

Skelly, who was happily snoozing in the corner of the bed perked up. He tilted his head, before stretching his body and trotting over to you. He seemed to notice your down mood and whimpered, nuzzling into your hand as he gave you puppy eyes.

You frowned, "Not now, Skelly..." you mumbled, as you sat up from your slumped position on the bed, causing the puppy to let out another whine.

"Can you imagine? Me," You huffed, "The wife of that, boorish brainless..." You stood up from your bed, walking over to your vanity, placing the engagement ring on your finger. "Madame Adam, can't you just see it?" You continued, as you sang to Skelly, who watched you in confusion.

"Madame Adam, his little wife. Ugh!" You growled out, as you ripped off the ring and placed it on the vanity. "No, sir! Not me! I guarantee it!" You walked over to the balcony doors, pushing them open. As you made your way to the balcony you gripped the railing as you sighed, " I want much more than this provincial life!"

You hesitantly took the golden crown that laid on your head, as you glanced over it before setting it on a nearby table. With a determined look, wings sprouted from your back as you bent your knees a bit to boost yourself off the ground.

As you soared into the sky, you glanced over the city, before making your way to the roof on the tallest tower in the palace. " I want adventure in the great wide somewhere!" You grinned, as you felt the wind blow through your hair. "I want it more than I can tell.." you glanced at a few residents of heaven you were able to see from the height as you held onto the golden pole that held the flag of the seraphim.

"And for once it might be grand.." your voice softened, as you did a small twirl around the pole. "To have someone understand..." you made eye contact with the bright golden gates of heaven before your eyes softened, glancing past the gates as you leaned against the pole. Your cheek resting against the cold surface, "I want so much more than they've got planned..."

Sorry for the lateish update!!! I was preoccupied with my other hazbin hotel book that was in the works!!!!

@mixplara @lukerycyja-reblogs

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sunfyresrider · 11 months

Text

The King's Wife

Aegon II Targaryen X Fem!Reader

Summary: After the miscarriage of the king’s first born child you must go through your grief alone. That is until he summons a dinner where all truths are revealed. Tags: child loss, semi toxic relationship, fluffy ending. Author’s Note: Hi anon! This is for your lovely self<3 I rewrote this like ten times I'm sorry

You loved your husband more dearly than anything in this world and he loved you all the same. It is rare that a person enjoys their betrothed let alone loves them. It was a perfect match, created by complete accident. The Hightowers needed allies, an army, and for their king to have heirs. You needed a husband, a home and a family to replace your own. Truly, it seemed impossible everything worked out so beautifully.

Until it didn’t. The old king died after your marriage, the one he did not attend. Within a week your entire world had been uprooted and torn apart. You had yet to produce an heir, but it had only been a handful of months. The Hightowers either waited too late or the king died too soon, you didn’t know which. One moment you were lying in bed peacefully with your husband, the next you were standing in the dragonpit adorned with a crown.

The coronation was masterfully crafted to be an affair of the ages. To be remembered by all the small folk and Lords who attended, to prove Aegon was the one and only rightful heir to the throne. And you were his beloved queen. You never expected Aegon to wholly embrace his new duties, to faithfully serve the realm. In the several years you had been married he never once showed care for any of it. Obviously, there was a side of him you hadn’t yet seen.

For every hour in the past weeks since a crown was placed atop his head, he had been busy. He would scheme in the council room meticulously making plans to destroy the Blacks. He worked tirelessly to ensure the small folk’s love, to coerce lords to join his cause and dispose of those who did not.

Needless to say, your husband had become a complete stranger. You saw him at night when he dragged himself into bed with a large sigh. You attempted to comfort him, to love him, but were. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just so exhausted I can’t bear to move.’ An excuse, you thought to yourself. You took to sleeping on the edge of the bed, facing the wall instead of the man you were supposed to be. You tried to remind yourself this was not intentional, he was a new king in the midst of the war, it wasn’t your fault he could not be bothered.

Mayhaps you should have been more understanding, maybe you should have forced him to give you the same attention as he used to but there were now other more important things. As the days flew by you became increasingly ill with something you could not name. You rarely left the bed now, too fatigued to fathom moving.

In fear that you may be contagious, you have started sleeping in separate chambers. If your mind wasn’t so dazed by whatever plagued you, you would be far angrier. The vomiting began on the third day and seemed to not stop. Every food or medicine placed in front of you made you gag. It was impossible to keep anything inside when it all wanted to come out.

The fourth day was when you realized something was horribly amiss, though you told no one. It started in the morning, the worst cramps you had felt in your entire life. You panicked at the sight of the blood but forced yourself to bite your lip. You couldn’t risk bothering everyone during such a time filled with turmoil. It lasted three hours, the pain, the blood, and the tears mixing into your sweat. A babe no larger than your foot was born, deceased.

You couldn’t put into words the feelings that were boiling inside you. The signs of pregnancy were barely there, this couldn’t be happening. It didn’t feel real, watching your single trusted handmaiden wrap the babe in cloth and take it away. It didn’t make sense; you hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary to cause this.

There were no signs of pregnancy in the past months. No growing belly or swelling feet to accompany all of the other king list of ailments that came with being with child. This was cryptic and it needed to remain that way, no matter how much pain you were in.

There were far too many things to take into account. You failed to birth a child, the one thing women are praised for in this realm, and you couldn’t do it. If the council discovered the truth, they may have your marriage annulled and you discarded. What is a queen’s worth if she cannot produce heirs? What is a wife’s worth if she cannot produce a family for her husband? In this world you would be seen as no better than a whore.

Thus, you distanced yourself from him entirely. You would mourn alone, sleep alone and heal alone. If you told him only worse could come from it and you simply couldn’t handle it. The hours turned into days, days into weeks and weeks into one month since you laid with your husband… It was past time you ventured outside of your chambers.

____________________________________

When you had first met, Aegon believed your love was one that could withstand any dissension. However, it was becoming increasingly clear he was wrong. Very few people in this world loved the king, a surprising fact considering he was THE king. You were the first to show him true love and probably the last… Slowly but surely his insecurities were becoming all consuming. The feeling of his heart being gutted out increasing by the hour.

What had he done to scorn you so? Ever since you wed, he had changed his behavior, became a better son, a more dutiful king and adoring husband. Mayhaps he should have reached out to you more but how could he when you were so determined to be alone? Aegon had his downfalls but surely it wasn’t so bad you stopped loving him. Was it?

He forced you to attend supper, alone… You sat at the far-left end of the table, as far from your husband as you could. The table was set with luxurious food from across the realm, none of which interested you, all of which made you nauseous. It was eerily silent; the only sound being made was Aegon’s silverware hitting the plate.

He was detached from this dinner, his mind was elsewhere, somewhere, anywhere but here. His eyes remained fixated on his food attempting to ignore the tension between him and you. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed the growing distance, the refusal to share a bed with him, the constant look of apathy plastered on your face at all times. You were growing to hate him, and it became increasingly clear every day…

It was a miserable affair. Occasionally he glanced up from his plate and your eyes would meet. He gave a small smile and nod, which would be met with a faux smile on your part. Your plate remained empty; you remained almost completely still as if completely disassociated from the world around you. It was harrowing, watching his wife lose all interest in him. It didn’t matter what he did, you remained in constant dismay.

“Is something bothering you?” He sighed, dropping his fork on his plate and gazing into you. “Nothing is bothering me, your grace. Is something bothering you?” He raised his eyebrows, sinking back into his chair. You’ve never referred to him as your grace let alone any formal titles. “You’re deflecting.”

“If I was deflecting, I would have changed the conversation.” You spoke in an irritated tone, avoiding all eye contact. Perhaps you truly did not love him anymore, he thought to himself.

Aegon's eyes hardened, his lips thinned. He stared at you for a few moments, before he slammed his hand down on the table, making dishes clatter together.

"Yes, something is troubling me!" He shouted. This was the first time he ever raised his voice to you in your entire marriage. "For the past few weeks, you've barely spoken a word to me. I have tried to start countless conversations with you, but they all go nowhere. You refuse to share a bed with me, you refuse to accompany me to meetings…”

You stood up from your seat, tears beginning to form at the corner of your eyes. “I? For weeks I tried to lay with you, to comfort you, but you refused my affection at all times and swat me away like a fly,” you shouted. Aegon's nostrils flared, and he clenched his fists on the table. ”Oh? And what sort of 'affection' do you expect me to give you when you're laying here like a corpse! Sulking about the entire keep like a ghost!" His throat caught, and he took a few seconds to breathe to hold it in, but his eyes were red, rimmed with tears.

“You don’t care at all do you?” You yelled, fingers shakily gripping the edge of the table to keep your balance. "No, I don't care!” A deafening silence fell across the room. You stopped crying, regained your composure. “I believe it is time for me to go to bed. Goodnight, your grace.” You walked out of the room calmly, ignoring the hurricane of emotions in your heart.

Shit

“Wait!” Aegon made chase, but you picked up your speed. “Leave me alone!” You lifted your dress so you would not trip as you made a dash to your chambers. “No!” The sounds of your voices carried through the keep as he chased you down. The guards and select nobles watched the chase in shock, disapproval and embarrassment for you both.

Your feet scurried across the floor, tears freely flowing from your face. You ripped the door to your chambers open, flinging yourself inside to try to escape him. As you tried to will the door shut his body slammed against it, throwing you back. Aegon forced himself inside, slamming and locking it behind him. You stared at him, too heartbroken and angry to speak. He panted, “no more. No more running. We’re going to have this out.”

You turned to walk away, further into your chambers. Aegon grabbed you by the wrist, surprisingly gently. "Please, stop hiding," he spoke between breaths. "Every day I have not had a moment's peace since you’ve gone away. Every night I have not slept because you are not there. I- I’m sorry I raised my voice, I’m sorry I did not pay you enough attention. I’m sorry for whatever sin I have committed to drive you away.”

You turned to face him, tears streaming down his face, cherub cheeks painted a soft hue of red. “I can’t go on like this. I can’t live not knowing if you still love me.” His words broke you, reopened the wound your lost child left. You loved him, you loved him more than anyone in this realm. "I had a miscarriage," you whispered. "I didn't know how to tell you.”

“W-what?” Aegon was confused, ceasing all of his movements the second you uttered the words. You began to sniffle, guilt eating away at your heart. “I- I didn’t know I was with child. It happened so suddenly and I- I” You couldn’t finish your sentence between the sobs. He pulled you close, burying your face in his chest, “i-i’m sorry. I’m sorry” you wailed like a newborn babe.

“Shhh, don’t say sorry.” He pushed down his feelings of regret to comfort you. “I should have been there. You should have never gone through that alone.” Aegon held you tightly as you cried, tears streaming down his own face. He murmured soothing words in your ear and stroked your hair until your sobs subsided. Finally, you lifted your head and looked into his eyes. They were filled with love, concern, and a hint of fear. "I still love you," you said softly. "More than anything."

Relief flooded his face, and he pulled you into a deep kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of the past, present, and future. It was a kiss full of forgiveness, love, and hope. When the kiss ended, Aegon brushed a strand of hair from your face and smiled. "We can make another babe if you’d like." His poorly timed inappropriate jests normally fell flat but to his surprise and enjoyment, you laughed. it was a happy, pure laugh, the kind that he hadn't heard in a long time.

#aegon targaryen #aegon fic #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon angst #aegon fluff #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon ii angst #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fic

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marthawrites · 11 months

Note

I just finished reading "The Gift That Keeps Giving" and omg the way you wrote Daemon is just 🥵😘🤌🏽!!! That said, if your requests are open, I can get you an imagine/oneshot rough nsfw Mean Dom!Daemon x wife poc! fem reader, where they have a great relationship, but reader is the bold and sassy type. And one day she ends up doing something (on purpose) that makes him really , like really really angry (the kind of latent anger that almost makes him take Caraxes and burn everything) but instead he takes it out on the person in charge (reader in this case). With a lot of degradation, spanking, choking, hair pulling and all the kinks you want (be as nasty and bold as possible please🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 I have a very big thirst for this man and I can't help myself, sorry🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️) With aftercare and a fluffy at the end please? (feel free to ignore and sorry for my english)

Hello sweet anon! I love that you enjoyed "The Gift That Keeps Giving". I appreciate your patience and I hope this lil smutty story tickles your fancy!

Punishment

Daemon Targaryen x POC wife reader

Word count: 1.9k+

About: Just because you're in the honeymoon phase with the Rogue Prince doesn't mean you can escape a proper punishment for disrespect.

Includes: Explicit sexual content featuring everything listed in the request, as well as breeding kink

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is porn with very little plot. I urge you to re-read the request to make sure rough themes are something you'll get a tickle from reading. As always, please enjoy! ♥

"You're both dismissed. Leave us. Lest you wish to hear me punish my wife," Daemon said curtly to the guards outside your marriage chamber. He held you firmly by the back of your neck, and the tension of his jaw had both guardsmen bowing before scurrying off.

If you could go back in time – even a mere fifteen minutes – you would. You'd seen your husband angry before, but never quite like this.

Before the guards made it to the corridor's bending curve, the heavy door to your shared quarter opened and slammed closed. Silence followed.

Once inside the room, Daemon's grip around you tightened. "I suppose you think you're terribly funny," he sneered at you, purple eyes burning like the center of a flame. Free hand loosened his belt as he maintained a steady gaze with your umber eyes.

You hissed beneath your breath at the tightness of his grip. The pads of his fingers dug into the smooth flesh of your neck, the slim muscles and tendons straining against his unwavering hold. "You're hurting me. Let go," you said lowly, eyes blazing in a mirror of his own. Both hands lifted to his forearm in an attempt to push it away. It was in vain, however, for he was much stronger than you and he barely budged against your touch. "I said–,"

" –I heard what you said." He released the back of your neck in order to grip the back of your head; your hair a single thick rope of carefully braided tresses. Yanking, he forced your attention up to him. "I've been too easy on you, wife, to think you can run your cunty little mouth like that."

A furious blush rushed to your cheeks. "You Targaryens and your fragile egos," you snapped, daring and bold, glaring at him straight on. A dull ache prickled your scalp and you did your best to ignore it. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing his aggression pained you.

"Fragile egos," he scoffed and finally released your screaming hair. "Maybe today will be when I fuck a dragon inside you. Grace you with the gift of carrying a silver haired babe. Perhaps then you'll understand the fury of a Targaryen."

Your marriage to the Rogue Prince, thus far, has been fruitless. On any other normal day you two were still under the honeymoon spell; wed for no more than six months. As if fated by the Gods, after the death of his first wife a series of events began and within the span of a few short months, Daemon’s courting led to a proper wedding. You were of a lesser House than his own, and your dowry perhaps modest in comparison to what else his name and title could bring. Yet it seemed to matter little to him. The Targaryen prince was more than charmed by you. He gifted you with silks, jewels, and perfumes, carefully choosing colors and gems to accentuate the lovely hue of your skin. Dark, and rich, and shimmering with its softness, he reveled in the stark contrast of your bodies. Often, when you were alone, he requested you wear only the finest of sheer wispy silks so he could see, and appreciate, all of you.

King’s Landing was your home now. Daemon was your home.

“You underestimate the fury of my blood, husband,” you retorted, secondhand anger swelling in your chest. What you said in conversation with King Viserys during the midday meal wasn’t even that bad. Daemon was just moody. Cranky. Crotchety about God's knew what. You had seen the way the two brothers glanced at each other with lingering tension, and you didn’t understand why it was taken so personally. In spite of that you never imagined it would lead to what was happening now.

So distracted by your own fury you hadn’t realized Daemon had you over his lap upon your marriage bed. The thick bulk of his thighs were spread to better distribute your weight across his lap. He pulled the hems of your gown up over the swell of your backside, fingers of one hand curling beneath the waist of your smallclothes. Without even bothering to untie the ribbons around your hips he wrenched them down your legs. In a single skillful motion he fisted the material. He shoved the balled up fabric in your mouth. “You don’t get to talk.”

The makeshift gag muffled your sound of protest. Something even more dangerous than fury simmered beneath your surface. Arousal. You hated, absolutely hated, how soaked the prince’s roughness made you.

He laid a smack against the swell of your ass.

It rendered you speechless, motionless: pulse hammered beneath your chest, behind your ears, and in the tips of your fingers. With the sting and echo of a second smack, your thighs clenched together. And with a third, your fists balled atop the bedclothes as your eyes squeezed shut.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew to never pull these shenanigans again. Yet… a tiny part, a drop of rain amidst the ocean, wondered if it would take the same shenanigans, or something more, for him to reach this level of anger with you again.

A fourth, and fifth, landed on you. It stung. Your flesh throbbed and the sight of redness blossoming beneath your skin had your husband grinning all to himself. A sixth.

You whimpered incoherently behind the gag. It hurt – not only your body but your ego, too – and the slick space between your thighs quivered with desperation.

Calloused fingers dipped to test your reaction to his punishment. They were met with warmth, wetness, and a muffled whimper he was very familiar with. A mocking laugh sounded from above you. “Oh, you like this?” Daemon cooed sarcastically. “My bold, feisty little wife… a soaking, whimpering, gagged mess. You lecherous harlot.” Two fingers pushed into you with little restraint, your reddened ass propping up to coax him deeper.

Pleasure immediately blazed through your senses. The delicious stretch of his fingers had your back arching and fists easing in the sheets. If your mouth wasn’t stuffed full it would have hung open from the sensation. Pain's edge seemed to increase the intensity of your pleasure and he only just started. Between the spanking and degradation a blush burned your cheeks, and now it burned even brighter as the wet sounds of your cunt began to fill the room. You were soaked. He knew just how to work you – where to push, or stroke, or curl – and he did just that. Relentlessly.

Just as the coil of bliss threatened to snap, he withdrew his digits. “Don’t think you get to finish yet. I’m debating if I should even let you find release today.”

A dagger rested sheathed on his belt, and he wasted no time in grabbing its hilt and slicing up through the fabric of your dress; its whispered rip nearly lost between your muffled pants. Once it dawned on you, yet another wave of fury rose to your chest. This was one of your favorites! A gift from your husband. Oranges, reds, and blacks, with intricate stitchery and patterns of gold thread. Finally, that's what made you spit out the ball of your slobbery smallclothes. "What the hells!" You glared up at him from over your shoulder, aghast.

Daemon laughed. "It was mine to give and mine to take." He moved you off him and stood. Even though he'd just sliced your dress in half, he removed it from you gently. Somewhere in the back of your mind you thought perhaps there might still be a chance to save it.

You were too stunned to speak, and merely finished disrobing as you watched your husband do the same. God's he was so lovely. Handsome and strong, his body wholly a warrior's with its scars and subtly padded muscles. Once he was nude the state of his own arousal had your mouth watering. His cock, fully hardened and glistening at the tip, was reddened with need. With the angle, you barely had time to admire the sight of his stones, too, before he was on top of you. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist.

"My sweet wife…," he said, eyes dark as he tilted his head and regarded your submissive position. "If only you knew when to shut the fuck up."

You had truly, undoubtedly, pissed him off. His eyes were black and palms rough as he pressed up your belly to your breasts. You squeaked as he pinched your dark nipples, the weight of your titflesh filling his palms. "I'm sorry," you said, eyes sincere. "I didn't mean it like that, husband, you know that."

Glaring down at you, he sniggered. "Disrespect and lying in the same hour?" He slapped your tits, cock twitching at the gasp you made at the impact. One hand pressed into the bed by your head for support while the other wrapped around your slim neck. He knew how to do it without causing any real harm. He squeezed. Choking. "The only thing you're good for is warming my cock."

In a single harsh drive if his hips, his girthy length split you open. Your legs wrapped around him tighter due the deadly combination of: looming above you, choking you, fucking you. A restrained whine and moan tore from your throat; your eyes half lidded and locked on him.

"Maybe I'll tie you up. Keep you locked in here so I can use you as, and whenever, I wish," he said, purple eyes glinting with darkness and delight. He snapped into you firmer, slower, making sure every inch of him dragged along every inch of your saturated walls.

Even with his hand around your throat you rolled and moved your hips with him, meeting him halfway on each thrust. This carnal side of Daemon, in all of his shameless glory, always had you needy for more. The edges of your vision began to blur with the restriction of your oxygen. Yet, still, you fucked him as he drove into you, eager and whining and dripping, more akin to a lady of the street of silk than a lady of a respectable House.

"You'd probably like that a little too much though, huh? Yeah… fuck. Look at your greedy cunt sucking me in. You filthy bitch." He finally let go of your throat to instead grip your hips. His fingers sunk into the soft flesh as he railed along your sweet spot, basking in the wanton cries of your pleasure.

"Just like that…!" you panted, breathless. "Please, Daemon.. 'm so close." And you were.

He didn't stop.

Your legs squeezed around him tighter, as tight as you could, and the obscene noises of your wet slapping skin sent you over the edge. Waves of orgasm washed over you and for a moment you thought you might have left your body. Scratches from your clean fingernails raked down the corded muscles of his forearms.

An inward hiss flared his nostrils and with one final push he spilled against the deepest part of your body. Your panting and his quiet moans melded into one as he relished the deep satisfaction of seeding his wife. He ran a hand over your belly. "Don't move, ābrazȳrys, keep all that right there where it belongs," wife he said as he slowly pulled free from you.

Sweat sheened over both of you and the midday sun sparkled atop your bodies. In the summer heat you laid and relaxed next to each other, content to catch your breath, your emotions, and let the sweat cool upon your skin.

"During dinner you will apologize to my brother," Daemon said after a few long moments.

With a quirk of your brow, you asked, "or what?"

"Or I will make this look like gentle lovemaking."

You knew he meant it.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow and/or reblog and/or letting me know! It would make me vvvery happy ♥

masterlist

Taglist: if you wish to be added or removed, please let me know!

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @targaryenbrainrot @ruby-dragon @silverwinged @chompchompluke

Daemon taglist: @sahvlren @abbyandizzysmum

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon smut #daemon imagine #daemon fic #request

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selkiewife · 1 year

Text

I am so interested in the fact that Ramsay, who was himself a miller’s son (his mother was the miller’s wife), chooses the miller’s sons from Acorn Water to pass off as Bran and Rickon in A Clash of Kings. Yet we don’t find that out Ramsay was also a miller’s boy until this conversation Theon has with Roose:

(TW: Rape, Murder, general fucked-upness):

“...This miller's marriage had been performed without my leave or knowledge. The man had cheated me. So I had him hanged, and claimed my rights beneath the tree where he was swaying. If truth be told, the wench was hardly worth the rope. The fox escaped as well, and on our way back to the Dreadfort my favorite courser came up lame, so all in all it was a dismal day.

A year later this same wench had the impudence to turn up at the Dreadfort with a squalling, red-faced monster that she claimed was my own get. I should've had the mother whipped and thrown her child down a well … but the babe did have my eyes. She told me that when her dead husband's brother saw those eyes, he beat her bloody and drove her from the mill. That annoyed me, so I gave her the mill and had the brother's tongue cut out, to make certain he did not go running to Winterfell with tales that might disturb Lord Rickard. Each year I sent the woman some piglets and chickens and a bag of stars, on the understanding that she was never to tell the boy who had fathered him. A peaceful land, a quiet people, that has always been my rule."

~ A Dance with Dragons, Reek III

It just makes me wonder. Most likely Ramsay chose the miller’s boys to pass off as Bran and Rickon because they were convenient. But the idea that Ramsay himself was also a miller’s boy who was originally dismissed as nothing by his father, adds another layer. And I keep turning it around in my head. Is Ramsay forcing a parallel between Theon and Roose so that he can punish Theon the way he can’t punish his father? Did Ramsay know that Theon had slept with the miller’s wife? Apparently Ramsay stops at the mill with Ser Rodrik when he is still posing as Reek and she sells them hay for their horses. Even if Ramsay didn’t know of the tryst between Theon and the miller’s wife, he at least sets Theon up to dismiss the miller’s sons as worthless, just as he had been dismissed. Obviously, Ramsay also views the lives of the miller’s sons as worthless as well. But, there is something there I think? Maybe? some subconscious desire to set Theon up to play the role of his father and then to cut him down for it and make him as worthless as Ramsay himself was once treated?

There are other parallels and anti-parallels between Theon and Roose- Theon’s ACOK’s arc paralleling Roose’s ADWD’s arc. Theon mocking Roose at Robb’s councils turning into Roose mocking Theon in ADWD, and Theon’s premature aging vs Roose never seeming to age- @amuelia has a wonderful artwork about this! Could the miller’s sons be another parallel? I don’t know... thoughts? Tell me even even you disagree completely! I just want to talk about it lol.

#theon greyjoy #ramsay bolton #roose bolton #a jumble of thoughts #I may be reaching #definitely on my list to write a fic about in any case #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls

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atomic--peach · 10 months

Text

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt 23

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader, brief one sided Lancel Lannister x Fem Reader. Disclaimer: While Lancel's age is unstated in the show, in the books he is canonically 17. However, since the show ages everyone up by 2-3 years and we've been going by Show ages instead of Book ages so far , Lancel in this fic would be 19-20.

SMUT: male masturbation )

AO3 version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

Lannister Reign over the continent seemed to be solidifying with every passing day One Baratheon brother dead, the other cast back into the sea. Jaime was off fighting for control of the Riverlands against the Stark pup. Joffrey on the throne with his grandfather as Hand to the King, and Cersei looming over all shoulders, waiting for something to do.

She needed a distraction. Something to take her mind off the thoughts barreling through her brain.

There were the usual concerns, of course. Her dreadful little brother. The Stark Girl, who was more use to them alive but sulked around the keep like a kicked dog.

Speaking of dogs.

She shook her head.

Don't think on that, there's no point to it.

And yet she couldn't stop herself. She pictured you that night, standing in the darkness of your quarters with knowing eyes that looked almost eager for the Queen to get closer. Cersei couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she had forced you into the Holdfast with the other ladies.

You'd still be here, of course.

But that look you gave Cersei. A look to chill the blood of even the most hardened of warriors. It was the look of a predator just waiting for its prey to move into the perfect position.

But that was nonsense, Cersei knew that.

You were devoted to her, even in anger. Each time Cersei sent you away, you had always come back. You never would have left her Queen's side if you hadn't been forced to.

This was the delusion Cersei labored under for weeks, even now despite the idea being brushed off by everyone else.

She brought her distress to her father and Joffrey, and both looked at her like she had grown a second head.

"Forgive me." Tywin squinted slowly as if he didn't understand. "But it is my understanding that upon marriage, a wife becomes as one with her husband both spiritually and legally. Lady Clegane is the man's wife, therefore there can be no issue of kidnapping."

"All the same" Cersei fumed, outraged that they would not see sense. "He should be found and hanged as a deserter. If we find him, we find Lady Clegane."

"We are at war" Joffrey scoffed, "We do not have the spare men to send after a stray dog and his bitch."

Cersei wanted to pull his ear for that. She had been unprepared for the harsh change in her dynamic with her son. He no longer listened to her and did not seek her advice or her counsel.

When he discovered the truth of Robert's many bastards, he sent the city watch to slaughter them all, grown and babes alike.

When Cersei heard of this, she was stunned. Yes, it solved the issue of the truth Jon Arryn discovered, but it also gave those who resented Lannister presence a rallying cry against Cersei and her family

"The Queen Slaughters Babies" Tyrion had said with a dark smirk.

Tywin insisted Cersei at least try to keep some kind of control over her son, but the boy king resisted with every attempt.

That made it sting all the more when Tywin himself succeeded where Cersei had failed with her child.

Tywin had him settled, more willing to thin before acting, and betrothed to Margery Tyrell, whom Cercei resented and watched carefully.

If you were here, Cersei thought, you would know what to say to cheer her. You would call Margery a snub-nosed little girl and laugh with Cersei at the very idea of such a welp replacing her.

"She could never hold a candle to you, Your Grace" you would say, cheeks rosy and eyes smiling. "Rose or not."

Why had you left? Cersei knew why, she wasn't stupid.

She did regret what had happened. You had wanted that baby so badly. I should have just had that dog put down, Cersei thought to herself, that would have been enough.

Yes, it would have hurt you, but you would have gotten over it. You would have had your baby to look after, and Cersei by your side.

Cersei allowed herself to linger on this alternative path, as it was so much more pleasant than her current reality.

Cersei would have moved you closer to the royal quarters, perhaps even into her rooms. The babe would be attended to by a nanny and wetnurse, as all highborn children were.

I could have given them more, Cersei frowned.

A head start for the boy, he would have been set to be someone's squire. Perhaps Jaime's. From there he could take on the role his father had taken, sworn sword to the King's children. Or, on the off chance the boy had been small, unfit for the battlefield, he could have even been sent to Oldtown to be educated.

Would she have loved him? Cersei wondered. Not as she loved her own children, surely. But, he would have been the apple of his mother's eye. I would have cared for him, Cersei decided firmly, not loved, but cared for.

And how well you would have thrived as a mother. You were so good with little Tommen and Myrcella, it would have come naturally.

After The Hound died, what would be done with you?

You could remain forever a widow, that would be the preferred route. You could not be trusted not to love, and in Cersei's view, it was only natural for everyone to fall in love with you eventually.

If the silly fool had been smart enough not to fall for her first husband, none of this would have happened.

If you did remarry though, it would have to be a weak man. One who did not ask questions and did not interfere.

She had thought the Hound good at not interfering. Perhaps Cersei had been blind to it, but he had never seemed resentful of your affections for your Queen. But why else would he have stolen you from the Keep in the Night like a common thief?

you must be so worried, Cersei realized.

Did you know they had won? That they were still alive?

The poor dear was snatched up and swept away like a maiden in a story, she thought fretfully, you must be so confused and frightened.

Enough of this. Cersei slapped her palm to the smooth table top she sat at, nursing a goblet of wine. If they would not do anything, she would.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"You asked to see me, your grace?"

"Yes, come in." Cersei eyed the sell sword up and down. To consider this man a knight would be an affront to the very notion of chivalry, regardless of the "Ser" they put before his name.

"I find myself in need of some help." She began. "I have a problem, and the crown has made it clear they will not intervene, so I am seeking outside assistance."

Bronn nodded understandingly. "May I ask as to the nature of the problem?"

"My favorite, The Lady Clegane, do you know her?"

"Know of her, the uh…" He tried to find a word he could get away with in the present company, "the pretty one the Hound married. I saw her."

"She was kidnapped by her husband from the keep the night Stannis attacked the city. I want her brought back, and I want that barbarian's throat slit."

Bronn considered this. "That can be arranged. It'll take some asking around though, not many men would be willing to track down a man that big and that good with a sword. And they'll be asking for a pretty penny to do it."

"Money is of no object, I assure you," Cersei smirked. "I want her brought back alive and unharmed."

"I'll find the man for the job, your grace." Bronn smiled coyly, "Of course, there is a matter of a finder's fee…"

"Find me a man who can do the job. If he comes back alive with Lady Clegane unharmed, you will be rewarded handsomely." Cersei assured him.

Bronn's grin widened at this, "I will start straight away, Your Grace."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Lancel stared at the ceiling over his bed blankly.

His wound still burned with infection, and his brow was damp with feverish sweat.

The Maester said he would have died if not for the quick dressing of his wound. He had you to thank for that, he thought fondly.

He made good his vow to Clegane and told his father to find him a wife that could get him out of King's Landing, and Kevin Lannister acted swiftly, glad to see that his son was finally taking adult responsibility seriously.

But while the Frey girl Kevin had betrothed him to was kind and plain-faced with noble intentions, Lancel's mind could not help but stray.

He hated himself for it. It was an affront to the gods, disrespectful to the man who had covered his crimes, and dishonored the very lady his affections yearned for.

His soul was still wracked with guilt, how he had been the one to summon you to Cersei's chambers that night. He had no way of knowing what would happen, he told himself, no way at all.

And even after what happened, when he confessed before you and your husband the Queen's crime and his unintentional part in it, though he might die, and if he did it would be well deserved.

But instead, you bore him no ill will, neither of you did. You had even taken valuable time to tend to his wounds when he was injured. "Come with us" you had urged him, and he wanted to follow so badly.

But his honor would not allow it, nor his pride.

And in the end, they won, despite everything.

When the battlefield cleared, Lancel found he could not judge Clegane for what he had done. Win or Lose, nothing would have changed for you. You would still be trapped, your son would still be dead, and you would have to look into the face of your child's killer every day.

He could still picture the beach, war raging only a few hundred yards from them as you held his hand in yours.

Even in plain wool, stripped of any court finery that might have disguised you for a snobbish highborn, you were still so beautiful.

Had Clegane not been there, had they been alone on that beach, would Lancel have dared to kiss you as he had so wanted to in that moment?

It was horrible to think, he knew that. You were a married woman, with a husband who not only loved but respected you. And you were his senior by ten years or more, what could you ever want with someone like him? Little more than a boy in tin armor with a toy sword when compared to The Hound.

As he pondered in the darkness, the arm on Lancel's good side began to move over his hip to rest on his lower stomach. Absentmindedly his long fingers played at the edge of his waistband.

He wished you were here. You had been so kind, so attentive when you nursed his wound as he sat on your bed. Even in the midst of the pain and the noise of the battle still ringing in his ears, the touch of your hands on his body was startlingly gentle.

He imagined how soft your touch had been on his face, all those times you had cupped his cheek gently, in the cellars by candlelight, in the garden surrounded by flowers. How those soft hands would feel against his bare chest, nursing him still with those sad eyes. How you'd press a cold cloth to his brow to soothe his fever.

"My poor Lion" he could hear you breathe, "Let me take care of you."

He gasped as your small hand gripped the length of his shaft and stroked him slowly but firmly. He did not protest, only whimpering with need as you leaned over him to plant a kiss on his brow. Your chest hovered just out of his reach until you drew him close and laid his head on your breast.

"Sweetling." You coaxed him gently, "You must rest, let me help you."

He nodded in agreement and very nearly cried out as you picked up the pace, lavishing tender attention on his sensitive tip each time your fingers pumped his cock.

"Please" he whined, face buried in the warm softness of your breasts as the sensation overwhelmed him. The beckoning smell of your hair, the musical tone of your sweet voice. "Please. I need you; I need you; I love you. Please."

You laughed lightly at his gasping chant, watching his hips buck against your hand.

"I know, darling, I know. Just breath. You're doing so well, so close."

His release came quickly, and just as soon as you were there, you were gone. Your warmth replaced by a cool pillow; your small soft hand replaced by his own nimble fingers.

Even as he traced the sensitive tip of his cock, drawing out more jerks and whines, Lancel felt a wave of shame wash over him.

But more powerful than shame was desire. The desire to sleep, the desire to dream. Perhaps you would visit him again tonight if he was lucky.

#cersei lannister x reader #her grace's handmaiden #game of thrones fanfiction #lancel lannister #game of thrones smut

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itbmojojoejo · 3 months

Text

Fractured Moonlight / Intro / Finan x OFC

Pairing: Vamp!Finan x Vamp!OFC

Summary: A prince forced to relinquish his title so that he may have a home, a princess begrudgingly doing her duty to ensure her lands survival, a king trying his best to keep their world from unravelling as war begins and a brush with death that reveals a secret threatening to destroy it all.

Wordcount: 4.6k | Other works.

Warnings: MDNI18+ NSFW Sexual Content. Mentions of death, violence, blood, alcohol, and arranged marriage.

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy whatever this thing is that my brain has been conjuring up for the past however many months xo Thank you @bhxrdy for being my hype woman and @arcielee for being a wonderful beta and fixing my punctuation 💜

The lands are strung together with delicate threads of treaties that fray and threaten to break with each passing moon. Beings from an ancient rich history that occupy vast amounts of these lands, who once paid no attention to the divisions between mortals and creatures are finally deeply invested in what will ensue, concerned about which kings and queens will stand victorious on the battlefield.

King Helier is no stranger to war, he has seen it ravage and destroy the covens of his distant cousins, wiping out royal houses in the western isles with the odd lucky few escaping to the sanctuary of the remaining clans.

He’s fought and then stepped up to restore balance to his land when it teetered on the edges of not only civil unrest from inner fighting, but the threat of a neighbouring kingdom spilling into his and tearing it apart from the inside out.

The crown that sits atop his head was never meant for him; it was bestowed upon his ebony curls as his sister, their queen, fell into the cruel clutches of a sickness that unravels every fibre of a being, leaving nothing behind but a meek shadow of their former selves.

Helier gutted the court of all those who would bring nothing but further destruction and decay to his house, all the while the indiscernible shrieking and cries of their once great queen bellowed throughout the castle walls until they grew quieter with every new month.

The young prince Hal witnessed his father mourn not only the queen on her eventual passing, but an unknown lover who succumbed to the childbed, her life sacrificed so that Helier may have a daughter, Marlena, whose arrival softened his and his people's suffering.

Thick ebony hair and onyx eyes set against pale alabaster skin– “She has her mother's eyes,” is all Helier mumbled as he pressed a delicate kiss to the head of the babe in his arms, hushing any words that it was surprising she didn’t have the same bright blue hues as her father or brother.

It was agreed the king’s bedmate shall remain unnamed in the scrolls and that Marlena would be given the royal title of princess. Their kind did not have natural children born into the lineage often; it was considered a miracle for a king to have two direct heirs of his blood and flesh extending the longevity of his house and holding the throne now for two generations in a row.

Marlena’s early years were seen by few members of court; she was hidden away while the king’s physician whispered that her survival was uncertain and rumours began to circulate that he had presented the child to a trusted mage who insisted he was unable to help. A sorceress had been spotted in the private chambers on occasion and soon enough the young princess was thriving and healthy.

She was growing and being tutored and trained in all things a leader of lands would need in their arsenal, which at first confused the court. A princess was an important piece that could be used to strengthen bonds through marriage, why would she have any need to wield a sword? To understand how wars are won? They already had Prince Hal as their named heir, the firstborn.

“They will have the same training, as we should all be aware by now that the second in line is just as important as the first.” was all the king said on the matter.

Helier proved that his words were not empty by having two smaller thrones placed on either side of his larger, more regal one. Prince Hal sat to his right, and Princess Marlena to his left. Both children were privy to the goings-on of court and expected to be present when council was in session, their opinions heard and taken into account by the king, at first in private, then later in their life openly for all to see and hear.

It didn’t take long for Marlena’s proud opinions of their land being a prosperous and safe haven for mortals and other beings to settle and live among each other in peace to be known. Her disdain at the other covens seeing every other life form as an enemy or sustenance was clear when they visited during the darkest weeks of winter.

She shunned the small ideas of a betrothal whenever it was brought up and her father supported this decision, stating that when the time was right he would be the one to make the arrangements. He understood that their lives were not short, and a royal marriage could make or break a kingdom; it could not only be one of convenience in the moment.

As the many decades passed, the king, now aged by greying hair and frown lines, remained seated on his throne carved from glistening rock with only his daughter at his left, as Prince Hal was far away patrolling the borders after a recent rise in attacks from shadow walkers. He listened to the seemingly never-ending list of unnerving events now plaguing the continent and realised he might have to utilise his daughter’s position in a way he never wanted to.

Marlena pulled and twisted the iridescent pearls of a necklace that wrapped around her left arm and hung from her wrist through her fingers, catching flickering candlelight on their curved surface with every movement. Ivory silk and lace, a symbol of purity, clung to the skin below her collar bones, hiding the rest of her lithe form from eyes that linger a little too long. The ebony tresses she refused to cut were worn in twists and braids with pearls to match her daily jewellery laced through her hair.

If she had any concerns or worries, it was unreadable in her eyes or body. She sat relaxed as her gaze occasionally shifted from the speaking councilman to those who looked on.

The council member urged King Helier, “Your grace, this is the last thing we need as summer approaches.”

“I hear your concerns Yannic, but what would you have me do? We already have patrols being dispatched more frequently and there is a constant watch on the walls now.”

“We should launch a full attack, go-”

Marlena scoffed and interjected, “You’re suggesting we cross the border into their lands? Lands we do not know where we will surely lose numbers and start a war?”

“Princess, we are already at war.”

“No, smaller settlements along our borders are being attacked and raided, which is not the same thing as war.”

“By more than one kind, they have brokered partnerships, they mean to close in on us, trapping and surrounding us here when we are at our most vulnerable how can you say-”

“Hold your tongue,” the king coolly chided. “Yes, shadow walkers are growing bolder and now the sea barons are following suit but it has not been confirmed that they are allies. We have faced worse, what I need from you, my advisors, is to remain calm and strategise. Not flounce and panic at the first sign of trouble.”

“Your grace.” Yannic bowed, stepping away to the side of the hall ending the discussion.

Marlena’s ears pricked and unravelled the muted sounds from distant corridors figuring out who it was that approached; two different heartbeat rhythms but three sets of steps in perfect unison grew closer and closer giving away who it was instantly. The large doors of the throne room were opened before they even rounded the corner.

The scent of worn leather, damp sand, salty sea air, pine, dewy grass, parchment and ink all melded together, on top of a sweat and musk that only a man can wear drifted into the hall as Finan, flanked by Sihtric and Osferth, drew nearer.

“Lord king,” Finan bowed, offering a smaller head bow on straightening his posture to Marlena, “Your Highness.”

His eyes, dark burnt umber with tawny flecks, barely met hers as he kept his focus on Helier. For nearly two centuries Finan had served this crown, humbled by the loss of his home and royal title; he worked his way up from a thankful survivor to a formidable and loyal advisor.

“What news do you bring, commander?”

“Traders are having a harder time making it to the docks, and they’re too frightened to try getting here by land. Not so much a major issue for us but…” Us being the long-living, undying, vampyre, “They’re requesting a private audience with you tomorrow, your grace.”

“They can have it.”

Finan nodded and cleared his throat. “We also received a messenger, Prince Hal will be returning before the week's end.”

“Good.”

Helier stood from his throne signalling the end of the council session and motioned for Finan to follow him to his private office. Marlena’s dark eyes tracked their smooth movements until they were out of sight.

Standing from her seat she gave a subtle head movement instructing Sihtric and Osferth to follow her onto the sheltered outerwalk way. Her skin was glistening porcelain under the silvery moonlight and glowing amber under the contrasting firelight as she clenched the hanging pearls in her hand.

“Is it as grim as they’re saying it is?”

“The traders could just be nervous but truthfully, we won’t know for sure until Hal return’s princess.” Sihtric disclosed, keeping up with her quick steps.

“The messenger gave no details?”

“No. Only that some men have been lost and they’re coming home.”

“What business would shadows and sea barons have in being allies?” Marlena asked, looking at Osferth.

“None, it’s unheard of, neither kind is exactly known for being friendly.” He shrugged, struggling to keep up with the pair. “We know next to nothing about shadow walkers, how they live, how an army of them would behave, if they have a governing body, we only see what they’re like under the veil when they’re dead.”

“Have you fought them before?” Her long braid nearly whipped Sihtric as she snapped her head to him.

“Yes, but not an entire hoard of them.”

He, and a small number of other changelings, had been making their way towards the coast the very first time he encountered a shadow. They’d been ambushed in the night, by what they couldn’t be certain. They were taller than most mortal men, moving eerily fast with a muddy grey veil that vibrated and shifted around their form hiding their true appearance.

Any attempt at piercing the figure would cause their veil to harden like a shield, protecting them from the blow. The noises they made were unlike any sound Sihtric had heard before, a mixture of whistling hisses, shrill shrieks and low grumbles intertwined adding further confusion to the ambush.

By the time Sihtric thought to change his form he’d already lost two members of his group. He found it much easier to attack them with claws and teeth, pulling limb from limb, their moving shields unable to handle the onslaught of multiple punctures.

He and Rypere had only survived by luck, Finan and his men arriving to finish off the job.

“Woah big fella, I’m a friend.” The lilt of his voice strong as he lowered his sword, regarding the two changelings in their bear form. The two had been by his side ever since, proud to be in Marlena’s guard.

“They aren’t the easiest to kill, princess.” Sihtric cautioned Marlena.

“That may be true but they can be killed. Sunset tomorrow, prep the yard, we start training. I want you to lead it.”

“Training?” Osferth quizzed, looking past the princess to Sihtric.

“I want my troops prepared. I will not send them out there blind.”

Marlena was no stranger to battle. She’d done her fair share of patrols over the many years that passed since she came of age, but she had never been on the frontline of a war and staying behind, watching from the safety of high walls was not an option for her. If she were to send men, women, other kinds, to fight for her and her family she’d be right there beside them, spurring them on.

As soon as she stepped into the threshold of her private room, Marlena uncoiled the pearls decorating her body, hanging them over the largely ornate bronze mirror that hung from the castle's stone walls.

A low fire already burned in the fireplace opposite her bed; four tall posts on each corner holding up the deep blue canopy that hung over the sides, a protective curtain should the window ever become damaged during the sunlight hours.

Sleep wasn’t necessary for her kind, but occasionally it was required, and even then it was more of a deep rest than sleep. It was similar for food, not every vampyre could stomach it but those that could often enjoyed meats, rich fruits and sweet pastries which is why she always had a bowl of plums and cherries to hand.

Squawks of gulls swooping and diving past the shuttered window as the waves of high tide crashed against the cliff edge signalled sunrise, as it did every morning. Marlena sighed while taking a slow sip of her sweetly infused wine, eyes transfixed on the multiple maps of the continent she had laid out on the stone floor of her chambers.

She scanned the inked lines etched onto the thick parchment detailing the castle in its centre – the coast on the west, mountains to the north, open land that stretches to the red grasses and beyond to the east, and more open land bordered by dense thick forests to the south.

Mulling over different defence strategies she turned to the window, a minuscule gap in the wood allowing a narrow streak of low sunlight to stream through into the room urged her closer. Mindful to stay in the shadows, she watched dust particles floating in the air, only appearing in the rays as tiny stars before disappearing into the darkness.

The soft creak of her chamber door opening and closing didn’t pull her gaze away from the crack in the shutter, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. The familiar scent of worn leather and coppery spice filling the room was welcome.

“You’re late, commander.” She half-heartedly chastised.

“My apologies princess, the king needed my assistance.”

Coming to stand behind her, Finan gently moved Marlena’s braid over her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist, his body molding around the shape of her slender frame and his words breathing across her cheek, “You get closer to this window each sunrise.”

“Mm. Do you not wonder what the sun feels like?”

“I imagine it feels like death.” He smirked lightly, lips skimming down the column of her neck. “Who are you drinking?” He asked, taking the crystal chalice from her light grasp and blindly placing it on a side table.

“Someone sweet.” Marlena sighed, tilting her head to the side with a hum as Finan’s canine teasingly grazed across her soft skin. His hands on her waist travelled to the back of her gown, loosening the thick ribbons with nimble fingers.

Layers of clothing were shed and left strewn across the floor, covering the now-forgotten maps in between hungry heated kisses. Hands eager to touch explored the freshly exposed skin as limbs tangled together on the bed.

Finan dragged his tongue over and through her glistening folds agonisingly slowly, only breaking away to lavish her thighs with burning lips, resisting every animalistic urge to leave deep purple blooms on her pale skin. Marlena pulled his brawny frame up her body with ease, instantly trapping his mouth with hers, hips grinding into his, wordlessly asking for all of him.

She relished surrendering her body to him, the blistering ecstasy that flowed through her veins from his simplest touch. Time and time again she allowed this over the past eight years and each time it ended she still felt starved, longing for more.

There’d always been an invisible thread pulling the two together since the day he arrived. As she’d always been expected to attend council even before she came of age, Marlena witnessed him relinquishing his title in order to be accepted into the coven.

He’d accepted her condolences with a smile that sparked her curiosity. How was it a young prince could lose everything he’d ever known, his home, his family, his influence, but still possess genuine kindness?

Finan attended every one of her training sessions, at first providing words and cheers of support, then eventually he was permitted to take over to ensure the original swordsman wasn’t being too soft on her.

With each misstep, loss of balance, and heavy blow that took Marlena off her feet, he’d be right there with a hand outstretched, easily lifting her back up and correcting what she’d done incorrectly. Every touch of his fingers sparking flames against her skin, she could never find it in her to get angry at the way he’d give her warning slaps with the flat edge of the blade.

He was by her side the very first time she led a patrol, answering every question she had wanting to hear as much as she could about his home life on the western isles, how different their lands and court were. He never refused to answer and kept her company when they took rest during sun up, talking until it was safe to move on.

The first battle they found themselves in together left Marlena in a state of shock afterwards, his calm words soothing her woes because she had killed for the first time. “Kill or be killed, they would not spare you.” He’d said gently, embracing her for the first but not the last time.

Finan always followed the rules, making sure the king approved before taking her hand to dance at gatherings; no one batted an eye at the budding friendship. It was inevitable with him being named the head of her guard, and when it came time for him to step aside for his role as commander of the king’s forces, his recommendation of Sihtric being his replacement was accepted.

His hushed words had Marlena’s eyes lulling open; she rested on his chest with fingertips tracing shapes into the hairs and skin. “Not to cause any upset, but the old man is being pressured.”

“Betrothal talks again?” She asked, unbothered any time there was unrest it was always brought up.

“It’s bound to happen, they’re preparing for the worst.”

“Let me guess, I’m to be shipped off to some distant king or prince?” Her tone amused as she shifted her leg slotted between his and moved to lay between them.

“A little closer to home actually. It’s-” His words cut off with a sharp hiss as Marlena playfully nipped at his skin with her teeth, instantly soothing it with a circle of her tongue. “It’s just a suggestion.”

“For now.”

Finan, as always, made sure to part ways with Marlena before the arrival of her handmaid, following the winding corridors and spiral staircases towards the lower levels of the castle unseen to wash up and ready in his smaller chambers.

Each swipe of the wet linen cloth doused in herbal soap removed the hints of cherry and sweet peonies lingering on his skin, careful to leave no clear indication of his and Marlena’s indiscretions.

Although he admired her nonchalance for the recent discussions of suitors, believing it would never happen, he found himself unable to speak of how serious the current situation truly was. They were losing men on every patrol of the southern border; tenants of settlements further out had started to move closer in and the issues on the coast were also starting to push inland.

Fighting battles on two fronts would be near impossible for them, especially with the added problem that they could only fight in full numbers after the sun had gone down, and with summer fast approaching, they were certain to face defeat.

He feared the list of five suitors would quickly dwindle to one, forcing Marlena to leave these lands in a marriage she would surely despise just to save them all. Women of royalty and nobility being a currency in times of uncertainty was nothing new, but the king was usually able to keep his daughter at his side, citing she was too important to be given away in case something were to happen to Hal.

“The most important thing the princess can do at this moment in time, Your Grace, is accept that her duty as a protector of the realm also includes wedlock, especially if that husband will provide us something so desperately needed,” Yannic had urged Helier the evening before inside the king’s private office.

“Do you have any insights you’d like to add, Finan?” The king asked, rubbing his temple as he pondered the list Yannic had already prepared for him.

“Tying yourself to another coven would provide a much needed strength, Your Grace.” His words left a bitter taste on his tongue, but he could not lie for his own selfish reasons.

After securing his leather cuirass, he rolled up the parchment with scrawled designs for a set of weapons and made his way to the bailey via the walled inner walkway, safe from the setting sun.

Pushing his way into the smithy, he was met with the heat of a roaring furnace; sweet smoky burning coal, and the booming voice of Clapa.

The giant beamed, “Lord commander!”

He was considered small for his kind at eight feet tall, which always left Finan dumbfounded when he saw him standing with the others that occupied the surrounding villages; it was probably the workshop that made him seem larger.

“Less of that, I have a small request,” Finan smiled, handing him the rolled-up parchment.

“What do you have for me?” Clapa mused looking over the sketches, his brow raising at Finan, “These designs are a little on the uh…feminine side, even for you.”

“They’re for the princess. She’ll need them.”

“I’ll get started right away.”

“Good man,” Finan patted the giant's arm and lingered while discussing finer details of the design until the sun had finally set.

Once outside on the main grounds, he walked the perimeter of the training yard listening to Sihtric address a large group of Marlena’s sworn men.

“A longsword alone will be useless. Those of you who fight with sword and seax, or sword and axe will have an easier time. If you don’t use both, you start doing so from today.”

A bowman spoke up from the crowd looking concerned, “And those of us who use arrows?”

“For now, nothing changes. You will remain on the walls until we have further information but I suggest you stick around, you may just learn something that could save your life.”

Finan spent the next two nights watching over the yard, checking over the armoury stock levels and avoiding the council chamber as much as possible. While he understood that politics were a necessary part of his position he dreaded hearing a potential announcement and giving his emotions away for all to see, likely jeopardising Marlena in the process.

On the third night, not long after sunset, the bell tower rang out alerting the return of Prince Hal. The streets within the walled city were lined with worried residents curious to get a look at any losses the prince’s men may have suffered and the guards struggled to clear space for them to filter through the gatehouse.

The bailey bustled with staff preparing the stables for the returning horses and council members rushing to the keep only to be turned away at the hall doors. King Helier declared it a closed session, he wanted to hear from Hal what happened firsthand before deciding what news was shared.

Helier perched on the edge of his seat in anticipation, Marlena paced back and forth in front of the three thrones twisting her pearls in her fingers, Yannic stared at his feet with his hands clasped together, and Finan looked between all three of them.

All four glanced at the door at the same time, the clinking of steel armour and rattling chainmail getting louder as the door opened to reveal Hal. His face was set in a grimace, dried mud and blood caking his face and matted into his shoulder-length ebony curls; his bright blue eyes only softened when they landed on his sister.

“Your Grace,” He breathed, offering his father a bow before allowing Marlena to embrace him.

Finan sat in an empty councilman’s chair as he listened to Hal explain the difficulties he’d had squashing an attack towards the southern border. The shadow walkers had retreated only to follow them on their journey home.

“We were attacked during sun up, I lost half my men. We need to ensure each group sent out is equal otherwise our chances of survival are-” Hal was stopped by the king cutting him off.

“How far was the last attack?”

“No more than six miles out.”

“So close?” Marlena’s gaze shot to Finan, an attack this near to the city was unheard of.

“Is there a chance they are still there?” Yannic asked Hal, standing from his seat and beginning to pace with his thoughts.

“Most likely, they haven’t been retreating as they normally would.”

The king sighed deeply as he stood from his throne, “Finan, ready some men. I want them pushed back as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Lord King.”

In his chambers under flickering firelight, Finan shrugged into his chainmail trying his best to not accidentally elbow or punch his squire, who was busy ensuring his boots were adequately laced, in the head.

Osferth stood by the open door, an arm crossed over his chest with his other hand against his chin deep in thought, “I’ll see what I can dig up in the archives. We may be able to learn a thing or two from Queen Isobel’s time.”

“Whatever it is you find down there you tell no one but me or Marlena. You know how the king feels about you ‘being nosy’.”

“And if neither of you are here?”

“You wait until we are,” Finan instructed sternly. He was fond of the young mage who already had a wealth of knowledge and a deep desire for more but King Helier had a habit of chastising Osferth for asking questions and Prince Hal was still unsure of his intentions.

The scents of peony, cherry, almond and rich copper attached to Marlena hit Finan’s senses before her quick light steps carried her through the door. All three men bowed at her arrival and Finan quickly requested that Osferth and his squire leave them.

“You aren’t wearing enough armour for my liking,” She spoke quietly, tugging his cuirass then taking his arm in her hands to finish lacing his leather vambrace.

“I like to be light on my feet, can’t do that covered in steel princess.”

Her onyx eyes darker than a midnight sky stayed focused on his warmer mahogany tones, a light crease between her brows and lips pressed tightly together as he secured his sword belt.

With a subtle shake of his head, Finan reached out and gently smoothed the pad of his index finger down the crease to the tip of Marlena’s nose. Bringing her hand to his lips he pressed one kiss to her knuckles before slipping away to leave.

“Finan…” Marlena’s soft call came shakily, and as he turned back in the doorway her delicate fingers clasped around his jaw, quickly capturing his mouth with hers.

As her lips guided over his it felt familiar but different, a sense of deep urgency that had never been there before that left him aching for more as she pulled away, “Be careful out there.”

End Notes: If you'd like to be tagged for this series let me know!

#the last kingdom fanfic #finan x oc #finan fanfic #tlk fanfiction #tlk fanfic

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emmyfairy · 10 months

Text

Kandomere Wants a baby

kandomere has a realization as he watches you

a/n: alright friends Kandomere was the poll winner! this was inspired by real life events haha (sans the elf sadly) I hope you all enjoy, please like/ reblog if you do and my ask box is always open even just to say hi!

trigger warning: this fic discusses pregnancy!

gif not mine

It was late, the sun had long since set, but work is work, and so Agent Kandomere of the Magic Task Force arrived home late.

Again.

You couldn't fault him really, especially since this time he had sent a text message letting you know that a case had sprung up. You, as his lovely significant other, had taken the chance to make a nice dinner instead of being angry.

As long as he came home in one piece you were happy.

You had prepared quite the spread, hearty pasta, bread, and an abundance of side dishes, knowing your man would be ravenous after such a taxing day.

Once Kandomere had finally gotten home, his face held a deep exhaustion, and annoyance, both of which disappeared as he wrapped his arms around you and saw the full table. The man had thanked you profusely for such a lovely dinner, before, during, and after finishing his two plates.

You brushed off his offer at doing the dishes, instead setting him on his nice chair in the living room with a glass of bourbon.

You could feel his eyes on you as you washed up at the sink, his chair positioned so the two of you could converse, discussing the idiots he had to deal with at work, Montehugh’s latest hobby update (apparently he is making donuts), and all the things you had gotten up to today.

Kandomere sat, sipping at his glass, his gaze heavy on you as he studied your form a bit more intensely than usual. From this angle he had a beautiful side view of you, watching your hips sway as you scrubbed the dishes. You had enjoyed the dinner as much as he did, and because of this the black slip dress you wore, which flattered your figure very well may he add, was clinging a bit tighter to the bloated tummy you were sporting.

He knew you didn't care, bloating is a normal part of the digestive process, and he sure as hell didn't mind, in fact he loved it. He always enjoyed your soft bits, loving how they made you you and he showed his appreciation of them on the daily (if you know what I mean wink wink).

So as he watched you in the kitchen, his mind slipped into thoughts of other reasons your stomach could be poking out more, the way the dress was falling, made you look ethereal, made him think how perfect you would look pregnant.

In the past, the thought of his partner being pregnant would have made the elf balk, sick at the thought of such responsibility and never liking anyone enough to even consider such an atrocity.

Now though, with you? The thought… it actually pleased him. Instead of adversity filling his stomach he felt excitement, the soft brushes of butterfly wings cluing the man into the fact that his feelings on the subject have changed drastically.

Suddenly he realized how much he actually wanted this. Wanted the future he had always sworn off, a house, a marriage license, and some kids. Kandomere was always someone who had feared domesticity, feared intimacy, but something has completely changed his view on it.

You.

He simply loved you, so much to the point where he suddenly understood everyone who gave him a look when he stated how much he didn't want a family, he understands now because he finally has the person he wants it with.

His person.

Kandomere was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the water shut off, or you turning to him, toweling off your hands and mouth poised to ask him if he wanted to go get ice cream. When your gaze fell onto him you noticed his far off look, and the fact that his eyes were planted directly where your ass was.

Typical.

“Kandomere?”

…

“Kandy?’

…

“...babe?”

Sighing and giving up, you threw the damp towel at him, hitting him squarely in the face, fabric hanging over blue hair and gray eyes.

“Hey what the hell.”

His big hands reached up to yank the towel off of his head, glaring at you until he saw your smirk, knowing somehow he had embarrassed himself.

And yet, the man who would normally care so much about this fact, didn't care, because he didn't need to be bothered feeling embarrassed with you.

You quirked your eyebrow up, closing the distance between the two of you, arms reaching towards him,

“What’s on your mind boy blue?”

Your hands rested on his shoulders, his wrapping around your waist, conveniently putting his face just about in line with the object of his thoughts.

“Hmmm, just thinking about something.”

“Clearly.” You scoff.

Still, he remained oddly silent, gaze set on you, it worried you a bit.

“You sure you're alright?”

It took him a moment to answer,

“Yeah, just…”

He didn't go on, seeming as though he was afraid to admit what was on his mind, unlike his usual bluntness.

Your hand left his shoulder, tucking some hair behind his pointed ear, and laying against his cheek, ushering his eyeline towards yours.

“Tell me baby.”

And frankly he’d give you anything you could ever want, so who was he, a mere elf, to hold the truth from you.

“I want a baby.”

Now that threw you to the left field.

Your mind raced a mile a minute, not sure where to stop or what to say to the man holding you.

He let you take your time, knowing he just left quite the impact on you.

It was a very sudden confession from the man you knew to normally sneer at the sight of strollers in the street, but you couldn't help but feel a warmth blossom in you. Kandomere wanted a baby? With you?

You knew he loved you, but this, this, would be the biggest commitment the man could ever make. All of this thinking never included a doubt that you wanted this as well. You wanted to have a baby, to have his baby, more than anything. But before that…

You looked back down to the man sitting in front of you, the yearning and vulnerability in his eyes almost enough to make you cry,

“Well, guess you're gonna have to marry me then huh?”

#kandomere #kandomere fluff #kandomere x reader #kandomere imagine #kandomere x you #kandomere fanfic #bright fanfic #bright imagine #bright 2017 #my wriitng #tw: pregnancy

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whoahoney · 1 year

Note

Hi! So I ADORE your writing and I was wondering if I could make a smut request? I only ask because I know I can’t do it justice but I NEED it in my life.

So this is kinda based off of Unholy by Sam Smith…

So reader is married (or engaged either one) to a well off guy (in my head, I think Steve) but they’re clearly unhappy and only in it out of obligation. I’m thinking maybe their parents basically planned it and they were basically promised a comfortable life if they went through with it so they said fuck it. They kind of turn a blind eye to each other’s promiscuity, Steve/husband constantly at the strip club to visit a specific dancer that he’s kind of taken on as his mistress and reader finding her way back to her hot and heavy high school love aka Eddie who owns his own auto body shop in town.

So on nights when Steve/husband “works late”, reader finds herself needing a tune up in the dirtiest of ways. And it’s just down right filthy. Both of them. Ever since I heard the song, I could just see both of them simultaneously going behind each other’s backs with their lovers.

And maybe the ending can be like reader finally deciding to leave Steve/husband for her one true love, Eddie or you can leave it open to interpretation 😉

I. am. deceased. This awoke something within me. I definitely added more angst and fluff than necessary, but this fleshed out concept was irresistible.

The DRAMA. This’ll be a multi-parter! Your brain— I love it.

Thank you for sharing this with me 😭 I hope I did her justice 🤞🏼if you need a filthier smut concept you’re more than welcome to request again and again, babe 💖

What They Don’t Know

Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Married!Reader AU

Summary: Reader is in an unfulfilling arranged marriage with a mutual understanding: together for an easy life, not love. It isn’t until after Steve graduates college they come back to Hawkins and Y/n finds comfort in a face from a life long ago…

Content Warnings: fem/AFAB!Reader, mature themes, forced/arranged marriage, making out, angst, smut in later parts, setting up plot, fluff/comfort

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n L/N was a good girl.

She was an only child; her parents making the decision so when the time came, passing down the mining business and their other riches wouldn’t be complicated.

She was molded into the perfect child from the first moment she was in this world, always striving to make her mother and father proud by doing the things they asked of her… But there was now something else she was expected to do to keep the good life close.

At the time, she was a senior in high school, having moved to town the year before. She ran in the same social circle as Steve Harrington, much to the delight of her parents.

The two families soon gravitated towards one another when Y/n’s family, who dealt in the mining industry, met Steve’s, who owned Harrington Jeweler’s in Indianapolis.

Unfortunately, Charles L/N asked for an investment from Richard Harrington that fell through; leaving Y/n’s family with a heavy debt. Not to mention the on again off again superficial argument between the two men over whose name the company would bear once the merge happened.

Eventually Steve’s father decided rebranding wouldn’t be enough. So he decided to strike a deal with Charles L/N; in order for the debt to be paid and the business to keep one family name, it only made sense (on paper) for their children to get married.

“You want us to what?” Steve had said, standing from his seat. Y/n sat at the far end of the long oak dinner table, mouth hanging open in shock and her eyes already fading a thousand miles away.

“Steven, if you’d just listen—“

“No, dad! I don’t wanna listen anymore! You can choose what electives I take, my friends, the sports I play, the college I’ll go to, the business I’ll work in, but you can’t just tell me—“

“Steven! Sit. Down.” Richard Harrington barked.

Steve’s rant ceased immediately, sitting back down in his chair as if his father’s command had taken over his own free will. The shame in himself was no secret as the grimace shown on his face, his stare burning through the fine China plate.

“This is what’s going to happen: you’re going to get married, and you’ll each receive a share of your very own— on top of your trust fund. As long as you stay together, you won’t have to worry about anything, it’s simple!” Richard said before taking out a cigarette to smoke.

“W-What about college? What about Boston?” Y/n asked her parents, unaware of Steve’s concerned gaze on her.

“You won’t need it! You’ll be a housewife! Besides, you’ll go with Steve to Hartford while he’s playing ball at school, that’s close to Boston! You can see it whenever you feel like making the trip.” Her mother urged.

“Welcome to the housewife’s club!” Steve’s mother cheered with a raised glass.

Y/n didn’t dare mention Eddie, though the mere thought of him at this time nearly sent her head spinning. She needed to get out of here before she suffocated or hyperventilated or blew the fuck up spontaneously.

“We’re doing you a favor here, kids, you’re both single, you’re already friends—you’ll grow to love each other, I just know it!” Virginia L/N spoke up, Steve’s mom, Deborah, nodding vehemently in agreement.

For a moment Y/n heard a deafening ringing in her ear. Her dreams of the coast in Boston were no longer in the realm of possibility, let alone a career. “And if we don’t?” Y/n spoke up, her face blank as a brick wall.

“And if you don’t, you’ll quickly see you aren’t cut out for the life of the working class— you can kiss all this goodbye, and I mean everything.” Y/n’s father spoke gravelly while cutting the rest of his steak, his hard eyes on his daughter.

Y/n and Steve exchanged nervous glances from the far ends of the table; Steve rubbing his clenched jaw and Y/n chewing the inside of her lip. Steve shook his head at her once before looking back down at his empty plate, the prongs of his fork pressing down on the pink rose blooming on the face of the dish.

“So no objections?” Richard asked, looking between the two, setting a chuckle free when the two remained quiet. “Well, Charles,” Richard began, pouring the special champagne that sat in an ice bucket for the duration of the meal, “Looks like… we’re going to be an official family business.” Clink.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It would be a long four years before the new Harringtons came back to the empty old family home in Hawkins, Indiana. Boxes scattered throughout the house holding decor that was mostly wedding gifts or handed down from their parents.

The relationship between Steve and Y/n barely changed—if anything they took a step backwards after the news of the engagement. The two were just becoming close within the circle of friends, Y/n having made fast friends with Steve’s friend Robin.

Steve always seemed to be at a distance to Y/n, his eyes hard and vacant when she spoke in the group, though he was never mean. Only uninterested.

He tried, he really did, though he couldn’t get himself to look at her that way, and credited it mostly to his father. He could see Y/n being his type—had he held a choice in the matter. But of course, Richard must come along and ruin what could’ve been. Now part of him couldn’t help but be repulsed by the girl no matter how innocent she was in the matter.

Even if Steve had taken interest in Y/n before the arrangement, there would be another obstacle deterring him from his goal; Eddie Munson.

The minute Y/n was introduced to the group, Eddie was hooked. He loved her strong yet quiet nature and hung on every word she uttered in conversation. Though he quickly learned he needed to stand next to her if he wanted to hear what she had to say.

Y/n was entranced by Eddie’s outgoing and charismatic personality, his striking wit never failing to make her giggle until she couldn’t breathe. He thought she was the best thing ever.

At the time of the engagement, they’d been in the beginnings of their official relationship after spending the better part of a year pining after one another. Even Steve was almost to the point of spelling it out for the two, but they finally got it together and went on two dates before the Harringtons made their deal with the L/Ns.

As soon as the two were excused, they were out of their seats. Steve went upstairs to his room, Robin on his mind and only a call away.

Y/n was out the door and down the road in her new car—a graduation present from her parents that she now saw as a ploy to butter her up.

“Guess she didn’t want to see the ring, yet.” Deborah Harrington sighed, throwing back the last of her drink.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie’s ears perked up at the sound of the smooth purr of the Mercedes pulling up by his window.

He immediately set down his guitar and straightened up his room a bit; fixing his bed and then grabbing all of the dirty cups and paper plates he could hold in his arms.

He rid himself of the filth just in time to hear her timid knock at the door. Eddie flew to it with a smile on his face, excited for the unexpected visit, when he opened the door to find his sweet girl utterly destroyed.

“Eddie…” she whispered through the tears.

“Hey! What’s wrong? Come inside, babe.” He helped her in, his arms engulfing her frame and leading her to his room to sit down like always. “I-I’m so sorry, I know Im not s-supposed to be here tonight—I should’ve called—“

“Those words are no good here—total nonsense, sweetheart. Talk to me. Did your parents say something to you again?” He asked, searching her face for answers. He worried further when her eyes wouldn’t meet his, even going as far as closing them to avoid his gaze as tears rushed down her face.

“Y/n, c’mon. It’s me, you can talk to me.” He urged quietly. Tears prickled at his eyes because deep down he knew things were ending before they even got started.

He cupped her jaw and leaned his forehead against hers. Her eyes remained closed as tears continued to flow freely. She soft sobs confirming his worries as she shook her head, her teeth still tingling from the heaving breaths she’d taken on the way over. “M-My parents… they’ve—I have to— it’s not my choice, I mean it is, but it’s—my options aren’t good here!” She said exasperatedly.

“Just breathe for a second and-and just let me hold you, yeah?” Eddie quietly suggested. Y/n nodded, putting her head where it fit the nicest in his neck, his natural musk paired with his cologne making her melt and ache for him. He pulled her forward to sit on his lap in an embrace. His cheek rested on her head as tears escaped the corners of his eyes, his body having much practice containing the sobs that were wracking him inside.

“I really like you, Eddie, you make me—they don’t—” She choked out, her voice quaking yet still holding strength, her nervous hands went to work fiddling with his shirt. She felt his chest inhale deeply against her head, the idea making her stomach drop.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can say it—do what you have to do.” He said with a nod, his voice a strained whisper. She shook her head, a sob escaping her. She leaned back, her eyes staying at his Adams apple.

“I don’t wanna.” She hiccuped.

“Did they find out?” He asked meekly. She shook her head and sobbed. “They want me to get married.”

Eddie stiffened and swallowed hard, “They got someone in mind already?” He nodded as if he were expecting it.

“They have someone, alright.” She confirmed in a flat whisper. Her hands found his, her heart leaping when his fingers instantly intertwined with hers and then sinking when he held onto them firmly, like a life line.

“They told me tonight—that I’m engaged.” She said.

“—Steve? Of course it’s fuckin’ Harrington.” He said through his teeth, his voice breaking. Her eyes involuntarily found his at the sound.

She took him in; his watery eyes a shade of pink she hadn’t seen in them before, his cheeks glistening with the tears that flowed down his face without shame. His lips were worry bitten, red and puffy and wet from where he’d run his tongue over them innumerably.

“You make me so happy, Eddie.” She whispered after a moment.

His eyes gazed deep into hers, his face finally crumpling with hurt as he watched her let him fall apart in her arms, affirming him through her own tears as if her own life hadn’t been hijacked.

“You are kind, and smart, and… wonderful… any girl—“

“Don’t say all that, stop—“ He said, his eyes closing in protest.

“…you make me smile just at the thought of you, and everything makes me think of you, Eds, I’ve never met anyone like you—“ she continued, lacing her fingers in his hair to remember what it feels like. “I-I’ve felt things I’ve never felt before when I’m with you.”

“Y/n, please.”

“I thought it was gonna be you.” She whispered in a sob. Eddie froze, his eyes opening on her chin and drifting up again, reluctantly looking her in the eye and letting loose a few more tears as he blinked. She cupped his face in her free hand and he leaned into her touch immediately nodding.

“Me too, sweetheart... Me too.” He kissed her palm. When he looked back at her she couldn’t help but lean over and press her lips to his with a sob, starting gentle movement against him.

Their tears lingered on their cheeks as their noses pressed into one another, moans slipping out freely. Their hands roamed, paying extra attention to texture and shape.

Eddie clung to her, dragging his hands along the exposed skin of her arms and neck, kissing everywhere he could. Y/n tried to hold back the tears so she could see him clearly but the exchange was blurry. She wanted to desperately to say how she fully felt, look him right in the eye and say ‘I love you, let’s run away together.’ But couldn’t live with the guilt she’d take with her.

It wasn’t until Y/n slid her hand up Eddie’s shirt that things stopped, the boy’s face jumping back from Y/n’s who sat breathless on his lap staring back at him.

“W-we could…” She said quietly.

Eddie thought for a moment, his eyes closed as he leaned his forehead in to rest on hers again while he thought. After a moment his lip quivered as he shook his head ‘no’.

“I-I can’t do that with you just to lose you tomorrow, Y/n. That’s-it’ll kill me.” He managed in a whisper.

She sighed, her breath shaking as she did, though she nodded. More tears escaped as the understanding between them set in.

“S-So when you go away for college—“

“I don’t get to go anymore.”

“What?! Are you fucking joking? They can’t just take away your whole future—all your choices! C’mon, Y/n. You’re just gonna let them do that?” He asked with a scoff, anger bleeding into his sadness when she didn’t answer.

“Why don’t we just run away?” He suggested.

“Eddie, no! You have to finish school, and it’s not that simple anyway, if—“

“How? How is it not? What happens if you say no to all this? What—everything goes away?” He asked, his tears stopping for a moment while he spoke through clenched teeth. “He cuts you off? So it’s either me or daddy’s money?”

“No! No, Eddie it isn’t about you at all.”

“You’re right… you’re damn right it isn’t. It’s about you… and Steve.” He hissed, standing to his feet. “—Doing what every other rich kid would do in your position, either get married to the hot rich kid or lose the trust fund, I mean, what are ya gonna do?” He asked mockingly, going to his desk to stick a joint in his mouth, not bothering to ask her if she cared like he normally would as he lit it.

“It’s more than that Eddie, they owe a debt, they’re my family—“

“And it’s on you to pay that debt?”

“They’re my family, Eddie. What am I supposed to do, huh? Tell me, what would you do, Eddie the Brave?” She asked, her mouth twisted in hurt. “If Wayne owed a few hundred grand, and asked you to marry a decent person that you have no chance loving to get it forgiven— would you do it?” She stood, her eyes piercing through him.

His chest felt heavy with each drag he took, his nostrils flaring as the smoke escaped them like the dragon he could feel raging inside. His eyes softened after a moment, looking back up at her. “You know I would.” He spoke quietly.

She nodded. “I know.”

“He wouldn’t ask me to do that, though... He’d care about my happiness.” He uttered, finally finding the one advantage he had over a rich kid.

He sighed, his chest still for a moment before the sobs hit him again then pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes before he felt her embrace around him.

“W-When do you—“

“—I don’t know, sometime this summer before we leave for Hartford, I think. I didn’t really… stick around to discuss the details.”

“Just couldn’t wait to tell me the news, huh?” He asked, joking weakly as he ran a finger down her cheek, tracing the trail her sadness left.

She nodded. “Then we’re moving for at least four years… He’ll get his degree in business whatever… and I’ll sit inside and… rot? I don’t know...” She shrugged as Eddie tightened his grip, pressing a long kiss to the top of her head.

They stood there in silence for a minute before she need to leave in order to make curfew. “I don’t wanna let you go.” She hiccuped again, her face tense from how many times she’d fallen apart that evening.

“Y-You have to, baby.” He whispered in her ear, taking her arms from around his neck slowly and putting them by her sides. Their chests heaved, the hot tears slipping down their faces on the set tracks laid by the tears before them. She whimpered, a soft ‘no’ tumbling from her lips as he let go of her.

He inhaled sharply, taking her face in his hands and making himself look at her no matter how much it made his heart hurt. Her hands flew up to hold his wrists stroking him lovingly. “No matter what you do or where you go, my… feelings for you will follow, Y/n. I’m not sure I’ll ever feel this kinda stuff again, so… thanks for… for making me feel things—for making me feel so…” his eyes glimmered with tears as he searched for the right word before he shrugged, “good. You make me feel so, so fucking good.” He chuckled bitterly, losing himself in her eyes replaying their time spent together.

“I should’ve—I should’ve asked you out sooner, you know. We could’ve—we should’ve had more time together, but—“

“This would’ve hurt so much more, Eddie.” She whispered, her eyes tracing his Cupid’s bow for her memory to stow away.

He nodded, “I know…”

Y/n hiccuped as he took his hands off her face, gently taking her hands in his and bringing them to his lips for a tender kiss. “I want you to have something to remember me by.” He mentioned.

Y/n nodded earnestly, Eddie immediately looking down to his rings and pulling off one that sat on his right hand and placing it in her palm. “I, uh, always kinda pictured I’d give this to my steady girlfriend, cause it was, uh, what my mom wore of my dads in high school, but uh, I’m seriously… into you, sweetheart, and I think… I think I always will be. And if you’ll keep it for me, I want you to—“

She threw her arms around him in a heated kiss, her tongue coming out to nudge his lips for the first time. Eddie groaned, his arms finding her waist as he opened his mouth, letting her lick into him.

She explored shamelessly, a heavy contrast to their few timid and exploratory make out sessions. Y/n, like Eddie, hadn’t had a real relationship before and felt it was best for them to take things slow, to which Eddie agreed immediately and respected because they both assumed they had more time.

“Please—“ Eddie muttered against her lips, his voice strained as his fingers tightened around her arms. Y/n took this as a green light and hurriedly took her kisses to his neck, working down the column of his throat and leaving love bites like she’d always planned.

“Y/n, please— you have to go, I’m sorry, I can’t.” He said with a firm hand on her, moving himself away from her embrace and avoiding eye contact as they stood in silence. “I can’t taste anymore of what I can’t ever have again, okay? Nothing else. Please.” He practically begged.

She shook her head immediately, “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I—I didn’t think—“

“Don’t apologize, I want it just as badly as you do, Princess.” He said, taking one small step to her, his hand poised to wipe the tears away before stopping himself and sighing.

“How am I supposed to let you walk outta here?” He whispered, more tears welling up in his eyes at the sight of her in his doorway for the last time.

“Just… close your eyes.” She whispered, her gaze unwavering from his. He was hesitant, his brow crinkling at the prospect of the last glimpse of his love before she’s gone from him for good.

“It’ll be okay, baby.” She whispered, nodding at him assuringly. Eddie held back a whimper by taking a deep breath when he scrunched his eyes closed.

Y/n took him in, her heart crumbling at the sight of the boy she fell in love with so broken because of her. She looked down at her jewlery, searching for something to leave him. She took off both of her small silver hoops, and all of her silver rings and left them on his pillow along with a plain silver chain from around her neck that held her first initial.

“I want you to count, okay?” She asked, conjuring her strongest voice for him. Eddie nodded hesitantly but did. “J-just count to… to 50. Okay?” She asked, her mouth now dry and her heart racing.

Eddie’s eyebrows knitted together as he nodded, counting to himself in a slow mumble that quivered. “1… 2… 3… 4…”

She stood, and watched him until he reached 15, taking two steps away before he froze and stopped, seemingly waiting in anticipation. Without opening his eyes, he tilted his head down and stuck his chin out, as if searching for a last kiss.

She seized her opportunity and gently took his face his her hands, placing one last sweet kiss to his lips as the tears rained down profusely. It took them back to the tenderness of their first kiss they shared only a month before.

She pulled away, taking care not to touch him anywhere else as she stepped away. Eddie whimpered as his hand reached out blindly for her as she passed through the doorway.

She turned away from him before he sniffed and resumed counting from 15 with a voice thick with tears and heavy breath as he battled his body’s reaction to heartbreak, hoping to keep it in until he could hear her drive away. He prayed he counted loud enough he wouldn’t hear the screech of the screen door, which Y/n carefully opened and closed after much practice of sneaking in and out from the late movie nights spent here.

“35… 36…37—fuck— 38..”

Y/n ran over to her car, her sobs carelessly falling from her lips with every step she took. She yanked her door open and started the engine, jerking the gearshift into reverse before she could change her mind and tell Eddie to pack a bag.

When he got to 42, Eddie heard the spin of her tires throwing gravel as she sped out of the park, his feet moving before he realized he was yanking the front door open and calling after her from the front yard, his face cold and wet against the early spring chill

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Harrington wedding came and went in the summer, a fancy wedding at a cathedral in Indianapolis despite neither of the families being catholic, or religious for that matter. Their friends attended, except for Eddie, who sent his well wishes with Dustin in the form of a single white rose.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When the time finally came, Steve Harrington graduated college. Did he have tons of help over the phone and utilize his knowledge thirsty genius friend? Absolutely. But his name was on the diploma, and that meant it was time to go back to Hawkins.

Steve was ready to be back home with his friends, but he entered the county line with a sour taste in his mouth at the thought of seeing Nancy. He knew she had long since moved on, thinking the four years without contact and a new wife would help. But alas, love does not know space or time, and just because you live in close proximity with someone doesn’t mean you’ll fall in love.

Y/n spent most of her evenings since returning to Hawkins unpacking and decorating until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She could only rearrange the furniture so many times before Steve got annoyed, which was more often than not lately.

Steve spent a lot of time in the week staying in Indianapolis like their parents did, though Y/n didn’t mind, his absence wasn’t ever a problem. Steve never woke her coming in late since he had his old room, claiming it’d feel weird to take his parents room.

Even in Hartford the two had separate rooms in the apartment, practically the worlds crappiest roommate situation. Y/n had sank deeper and deeper into the throes of her sadness, each night feeling so small and cold in the large bed. The smell of clean linens brought tears to her eyes many nights while she wished so hard to recall the way Eddie’s pillow smelled.

She knew where Steve spent his time, and it wasn’t like it bothered her in the way it would bother the majority of other wives. She just craved companionship—anyone’s. She’d hoped that at the least the two of them could be friends, maybe have nights with Robin like they did before their parents married them off.

Instead, Steve wished to spend his free evenings at the Dollhouse seeing ‘the most beautiful girl in Texas’, Dallas Rose.

The first time Y/n found Steve at the Dollhouse was a complete accident. She’d called Robin and asked if she’d heard from Steve, since he’d failed to come home for dinner.

Robin informed her that Steve had called her a couple hours earlier and gave her the number to the ‘gentlemen’s club’ he’d be meeting at, not knowing Steve’s true intentions

Y/n was stunned, only because she didn’t peg Steve as the strip club type, but shrugged it off and wrote down the number on the back of her hand. She hung up and dialed the number immediately, a smirk on her face when a chipper voice sounded on the other end.

“Dollhouse! How can I help you?” A woman said.

“Hi! This is Robin Buckley calling for Steve Harrington.”

“One moment, please!”

The line clicked and sultry R&B music played for the hold music. After a moment, the line clicked with the sound of the phone being lifted from the receiver followed by “Hey, Robs, what’s up?”

Y/n scoffed with a smile, “Y’know, I made chicken breast for dinner, Harrington, you didn’t have to go all the way to the club to see some tits.” She laughed into the mouthpiece sounding unimpressed.

“Wha-Y/n?! I-I can ex—“

“Save it, Steve, you and I both know I don’t care. I just assumed you had a girlfriend you were staying with, is all.” She shrugged honestly.

Steve stuttered into the line, running his hand through his hair and rubbing his tired eyes as he tried to make sense of the conversation between them. “A—W-We’re married. I wouldn’t have a girlfriend—“

“Yeah, well if you want some, go get some, you have my blessing. Just don’t keep me in the dark, alright? If you’re gonna be anything to me, I want you to be honest.”

And that was the last secret Steve kept from his wife.

She really didn’t expect anything to change once they got back to Indiana, especially not in the way things did.

Steve would call and check in every couple of days or so, the two feeling some sort of obligation to keep tabs on the other’s wellbeing. “I’m, uh, staying here again tonight, so… you don’t have to make me a plate or anything.” He mumbled into the mouth piece.

“Okay, no worries.” She sighed, the conversations between them always making her head pull her away to somewhere else—anywhere else. Steve related, his ears only half listening as he colored in a few boxes on a spreadsheet he was struggling to keep from going cross eyed over.

The two wanted to be friends. They really did. Whether it was the never ending awkwardness of marrying someone you don’t truly know or love, disregarding the force behind it all, of course, or the fact they both knew they could never belong to each other no matter if they tried or not.

So they did each other favors when they could.

“Y’know, if you’re… feeling up to it, maybe you could, uh, take the car to the body shop in town? I forgot I called up there and made an appointment— wouldn’t wanna stand them up. It’s due for an oil change and I’m tired of seeing that scratch down the side.” Steve mumbled, telling a half truth and hoping the rumor he heard wasn’t just.

“Uh, yeah. I can do that for you. Anything else?” She asked as if it were any other chore he’d request from her.

“Uh, nope. That’s all. Call me later and let me know how it goes.” He said before hanging up, mentally facepalming himself for forgetting to leave a call back number or at least tell her bye.

The abrupt cut of the line made Y/n flinch, her gold jewlery rattling on her wrists. Y/n hung the phone up on the hook, looking at her kitchen that was taking shape. She looked at the corner next to the glass doors that led to the patio, gasping when she remembered the hazy night spent here one late winter evening in 1986.

Steve had thrown a small get together for his friends and a few cliques from school that were deemed worthy enough, like the band, theatre, and art kids Robin insisted on inviting, Y/n being one of them. She’d said maybe two words to Steve all night, eagerly waiting for her date to show up.

In typical Eddie fashion, he was an hour late, Y/n feeling tipsy, high and discouraged when he found her slumped in the corner with shiny eyes. He was breathless as he jogged up to her.

He’d frantically explained how his van wouldn’t start and his back up ride fell through last minute so he ended up running the whole way to Steve’s. Y/n sniffed and chuckled, throwing her arms around him before he could finish his story. The boy was relieved, immediately accepting her embrace and threw his arms around her and gaining control of his breath.

“Thanks for being patient with me, sweetheart, it means the wor—wait, were you crying?” He asked once he took a good look at her face.

Y/n gasped softly and shook her head insistently though the two tear tracks beside her eyes were indicative of her white lie. Eddie tsked as he pushed her hair behind her ear.

“I think it’s really sweet of you to try to preserve my feelings or try to be tough, or whatever, but I simply will not stand by without righting a wrong I’ve made. Especially with you. Did you think I wasn’t gonna—“

She nodded, one more year escaping as she bit back an embarrassed chuckle and wiped her face. “Can I fix it?” He asked, finding her gaze with his eyes by bending down.

She scoffed, “You didn’t do anything, Eddie, I just got nervous.” She shrugged.

“Why?”

She rolled her eyes in embarrassment, her cheeks burning as his hands found hers. “Cause I like you, in case you were unaware…” she said quietly, keeping her eyes on the collar of his shirt as a familiar warmth washed over her, her thoughts quickly wondering what it’d feel like to sink her teeth into the side of his neck before she shook her head at herself for being so crass.

“Well, Princess, in case you were unaware… I’m kinda crazy about you.” He spoke lowly next to her ear. “If there’s anything I can do to make it better…” He said almost suggestively. Y/n giggled, before sipping her drink, which Eddie just noticed reeked of whiskey.

“Y/n!” He gasped quietly with a teasing smile. “I never thought I’d see the day. What would mommy and daddy say?”

“Mommy and daddy aren’t here, besides, it isn’t like they don’t drink gallons of this shit anyway.” She scoffed making Eddie laugh. He loved seeing her relaxed, he knew she had it in her.

“Have you done anything else considered questionable in my absence?” He asked with curiosity twinkling in his eye.

She smiled, her nose wrinkling before she looked down in embarrassment.

“Ope! What’d she do?” He asked quietly, stepping a little closer til her back leaned against the wall as he placed his hand on her waist, bending down closer to smell her hair once more before a light bulb went off in his head, “Oh, sweetheart, did you smoke weed without me?” He looked back up at her with pleasant surprise.

“Seems as though we’re even, now.” She said with a smirk. Eddie shook his head gently.

“No, I don’t think we are.” He said to her lips, his hand drifting up to graze her chin as the world around them faded away. Y/n’s eyes stayed on his perfect full lips, sparks nipping at her chin where his skin brushed hers before taking hold of it a little more firmly.

“Eddie, will you please kiss me?” She whispered right before he closed the gap, their mouths moving in tandem from the start. Eddie hummed a groan of satisfaction against her as his eyes fluttered closed, his body seemingly melting against her. Their arms couldn’t hold the other close enough, but the slow sweet kiss they shared sent them spiraling into bliss.

When the fog lifted, Y/n turned to the counter and grabbed Steve’s keys, rushing out the door before she could look back.

Part 2

Taglist🤍

@loving-and-dreaming

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson requests #mechanic!eddie munson

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soll-amca · 4 months

Note

Do you have any Alessi headcanons for someone desperate ?🫣 Too shy to come off anon to ask ..

uHHHHHHHH MAYHAps :) Thank you for the ask! I’ve been dying to write for awhile :) !

I legit don’t know what I have and haven’t posted yet since I haven’t been on tumblr for a hot minute but uhhh uhhhhhhhh. There’s lore-dumps near the top, but it gets better near the end I promise

Obligatory song for my headcanon posts. There’s no specific reason for this song, it’s just a banger, and I’m also trying to be very normal about Walid Toufic and not put his music for every single Alessi post

Alessi’s of Lebanese-Armenian descent, but extremely estranged from his Armenian roots due to internal family issues — mostly his father facing scorn from his intolerant side of the family for marrying an Armenian woman. Despite this, Alessi was very close with his mother and, even as a grown man, regrets not learning more from her. Of course, he’s never going to admit this, no matter how obvious it may be that he tries to pick up parts of the Armenian language and culture

Alessi was born in Beirut, Lebanon in 1951, but was eventually forced out due to a civil war in 1975. Though, what gave him the final push to leave was a falling out with his siblings. With both their parents gone, his sister going off to a loveless marriage, and his brother wanting to join the war effort, Alessi loses control of Sethan during a confrontation and turns them into children. This ends up as a strange, happy accident as he would try keeping up the charade for a few days, exploiting their memory being reverted to fake a “happy family” in an effort to keep the last remnants of his old life from slipping away

Things end horribly for Alessi as his siblings eventually find out and oust him from the home they all grew up in. With nothing left for him, he leaves and dedicates himself to mercenary work throughout the Middle East and Northern Africa to keep himself afloat

With fourteen years under his belt by SDC, Alessi’s considered one of the best in the region. And since he’s well-traveled, he’s proficient in a majority of the Arabic dialects, so nine times out of ten, nothing got past him in Dio’s mansion regardless of where the other assassins were from

The joke is that most Arabs don’t understand North Africans, but everyone can understand Egyptians, so whenever Alessi wants to phase out of a conversation, he’ll slowly change to to a dialect that’s “further out” and difficult to understand despite Levantine being his first

Since French is a secondary language in Lebanon, much more prevalent during Alessi’s time in schooling, and especially North Africa for mercenary work. He knows enough to get around like the basics, but can’t read or write for shit. His little brother was easily more fluent than him, so he has a weird sort of resentment yet fondness for the language. Whatever French he knew definitely came back when he was chasing around Polnareff in the Sethan arc

Very, very curly hair, but he doesn’t take care of it. Back as a kid, when he had his mom, she would help him and he was basically a puff-ball, but as an adult, he doesn’t have the slightest clue on how to style it while also maintaining his hair. If you catch him when he just wakes up, or immediately after a shower, it’s seemingly perfect but then he’ll proceed to douse himself in a can of hairspray

The gun he uses in SDC isn’t his, it’s his late brother’s. But going into that right now on why and how he even got it should be it’s entirely own post so —

Any endearment at all related to babe/baby will have him throwing up in his mouth. It’s one thing to mention a child, it’s another to somehow relate it back to HIM. Honestly, Alessi doesn’t read as a “habibi” person to me, he’s too bitter to be a “habibi” person. Albi and eini come much more easily to him as petnames to call someone

He’s a sucker for trashy American television. He used to think he was above it, but now if you leave him alone for long enough, he’ll put on TLC and binge whatever’s on. Although back home, he had a thing for spaghetti westerns even if they were horribly dubbed in Arabic

Adding to the Western trend, he was super into Lucky Luke comics as a kid. Since they were really popular in the Middle East, and the translated ones were produced in Egypt. It’s definitely not a stretch that during the 80s and SDC, his grown, mercenary ass sat down to watch cartoons of his favorite cowboy. Would Alessi hog the mansion’s TV to watch Lucky Luke? Perchance. Would he stay cooped up in his Luxor hotel room to watch it? Also perchance

Tintin was popular, too, but I think I need an outside opinion on that. If a Tintin person could come back to me about this please help

Hol Horse fascinates him. Not in an admiration sort of way, but a “holyshit a real cowboy” sort of way. To Alessi, it’s like Hol crawled out of his family television and old comic books

I don’t know who it was, but I want to say back in like,, 2016ish one of the original Dio’s Fuckhouse blogs had a headcanon that Hol was actually from New England or something, but basically nowhere near “the Wild West” or even the South. So the image of Alessi being interested and asking him stuff while Hol Horse is just,, sweating bullets because he’s not a “real cowboy” is hilarious to me

Because of what happened with his sister, Alessi’s very standoffish when it comes to love. He’ll take any chance he can get to mock touchy couples and heckle anyone that he thinks is getting “too intimate” in public, but I think we all know he’s compensating for something

But the moment someone touches him or is very direct about making a move, he flusters and doesn’t know what to do with himself. Cheesy pick-up lines will only embarrass him and he can’t tell whether or not you’re making fun of him

Having gone through wide extremities of emotions when he was younger, and then having to suppress them all as a mercenary, Alessi wouldn’t understand sensitivities. Especially since he’d have to adopt a pragmaticism in his line of work to keep himself alive — and arguably sane. He’d get confused over someone being upset over an inconvenience that isn’t “up to par” to what he went through, but at the same time fly off the handle at small things happening to him since he bottles up all his emotions

If someone cries around him, he falls into the routine of having this initial frustration, stuffing it down to not make things worse, and eventually follow through with a weird shoulder pat — sorta like “there, there”. After that, he’s clueless

#Jjba #sdc #Stardust crusdaers #Alessi #alessi jjba #alessi jojo #Ask #anon #headcanon #I don’t know how long ago you sent this in but I’m profusely asking for your forgiveness anon #Every break I have a 35% chance of spawning in so hi Muslim’s back :0 BDBJK #I would just like to say that I could elaborate so much more on the sibling falling out thing because I’ve been cooking for YEARS #I’m really cool about asks. It might take a bit but I’d love requests :)#Most of these were written at 2am ;3

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camilbarnessss · 1 year

Text

" So Be It "

《 Jacaerys Velaryon 》

The princess Daera Targaryen, Prince Jacaerys's brave sister wife, is secretly weded to the Prince Aemond Targaryen, for he is her true love. However, when The One-Eyed Prince and herself start to dream of children of their own, she recognizes what is to be done to hide the true parentage of the child: she needs to bed her "fake" husband, Jace, who may yet be a total gentleman, but finds himself melting under the enchants of his lady wife. Literally.

¤ Jacaerys Velaryon x OC Character [ Daera Targaryen, older daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Laena Velaryon ]

ACLARATIONS:

¤ Word count: 2.5K

-This piece is actually belonging to a much larger fic of my own, The Invitation, about Aemond Targaryen. This part is belonging to the 7th chapter of the second season, The Dance of The Dragons, but turned out so great that I just had to publish it as a one stand and. besides. I feel there is a scarce of Jace's fics, so I wanted to cooperate :)

-As this was not written as a one-shot, there might be a little lore during the chapter, but I edited it a little so all may be understandable. So, SPOILERS of my fics.

-But, to be clear from now on: Jace and Daera are married since a year ago, as well as Aemond and Daera (in secret). They are cousins, but have always refered as "sister" and "brother" to each other for they literally grew together in Dragonstone and are really close, as well as the rest of the siblings (Daemon and Nyra's children). As they were forced to wed by The Greens and The Blacks after Daera was found coupling with The One-Eyed Prince (which they obviously hated, and it was Jace himself the one who proposed the betrothal to "save his sister"), their marriage is sort of a solution, hence why they have never had none sexual interaction. They've only just kissed, and not even many times. Right now, at the moment, the whole family is at King's Landing, and it is the afternoon after Vaemond Velaryon was murdered in The Iron Throne room. And...yeah, I think that covers all the important things.

-Jacaerys is eighteen already in this fic, matters to say, and Daera is nineteen.

So, shall we begin?

Warnings: cursing, infidelity [Daera is Aemond's wife], dry-humping, first sexual experience [Jace's], sub!Jace, incest [brotherXsister]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy :)

《 ... 》

Princess Daera is at her chambers of The Red Keep, at the moment, standing in her balcony as she, serenely, caresses her belly, feeling its flatness, but dreaming about the day it will be buldged with the babe already inside.

Her dearest love, Aemond, just yesterday put inside her their upcoming child, during the romantic evening they shared at their secret place. Her daughter, Alyssa, as they both would love to name her, is already within her body, ready to grow into a beautiful strong dragonrider.

How exciting this is?

-Daera?-. Some knocks in the door, and a voice from behind it, made the princess to turn her head around, calmly-. Are you in there?-. Jacaerys asked, politely.

-Come!-. She allowed, getting her hands off her belly, and walking to the insides of her chambers again.

Jace comes into the room, greeting her with a kind smile. She copies it, as he closes the door.

-Oh, you come alone?-. Daera raises her brows, smiling.

-Uh, yeah! Yeah-. Jace nods, raising his brows again-. I was walking through the gardens with Rhaena and Luke, but I left them alone, and they didn't even notice-. He narrates funnily, walking.

The princess laughs funnily.

-They are so silly-, she mumbles, burlesque.

-They definitely are-. He agreed, jumping and falling on her bed with total confidence. Daera scrunches her lips, amused, with her back leaning on a wall-. Ohh, great, I've been walking all day-. The prince sighs, comfortable, crossing his hands behind his head.

-Do not deprive yourself from the comforts of my mattress, then-. She huffed, and he laughs funnily, laying in there.

-Uhh, Baela sat to sew with some ladies of the courts, gossiping-. He keeps telling, and she snicker amusedly, rolling her eyes-. And, lastly, Lady Beesbury is pampering Joffrey with endless cakes-, Jace sighed, smiling.

-Oh, very fucking good, the boy fawns over desserts-. Daera nods with her brows furrowed, and he copied her, calmly breathing.

The princess sighs, leaning the back of her head on the wall.

-Well, then I am fucking glad of being your last resort-. Daera jokes with a snicker, tilting her head.

Jacaerys immediately gasped, raising his head to look at her with his eyes wide open.

-No no no, you are not, I am sorry!-. He instantly denies, shaking his head. She laughs maleficently, clapping-. Do never think that, Daera-. The young man tsked his tongue-. You are my wife-, he remembered with a low voice, almost to himself.

Daera blinks when she hears him. She clicks her teeth a little, and thinks about Alyssa.

She has, indeed, thought about the fact that she obviously will have to say that the babe borned to her, will be Jace's. To be honest, she has thought of it since the idea was put in the table by herself and her husband.

To be far more honest, she is completely up for it, if that means that she will have her child. Daera knows the matter is delicate, hence why she hasn't asked Aemond, and also because they haven't had time. However, she knows he'll have to agree on this, because they both want children, and they obviously can't wait that many years from here until she has the power of queenship.

Princess Rhaenyra, when she was weded to Ser Laenor Velaryon, long may he rest, had an explicit agreement with him, regarding the parentage of their children. They were fathered by Ser Harwin Strong, of course, but there was not one moment when Laenor didn't supported that, discreetly. She didn't have to bed him, when they finally got things clear, and so the princess freely had her children with the man she loved at the time, and beared them with endless dearness.

Princess Daera, though, does not posses that kind of discrecy with her husband, Jacaerys Velaryon, for he is extremely loathe of her true husband, Aemond Targaryen. She cannot whisper to his ear if he would allow her to have The One-Eyed Prince's children and accept them as his.

So...she has to bed him. And if that is what she ought to do to give birth to Aemond's sons and daughters, then so be it.

Daera lifted her gaze back to him. Just with that single move, something changed in the air of the room.

Jacaerys, lying on her bed, looked back at her, with his arms still crossed behind his head. He opens his lips, having felt that switch of ambience.

-And- and about the thieves, the ones you killed, umm...-Jace clears his throat-, uhh- wow, must have been quite an experience, huh?-. He asks, lifting his brows with extreme interest.

-Um, I suppose it was-. The princess shrugged, calmly heading towards the bed. He gulps, nodding.

-Yeah. Did- did they do something- something bad, after all?-. Jace curves his brows, clearing his throat again.

-I cut their hands before they could-. Daera softly whispers, reaching the bed, and beginning to climb on it. The brown-haired boy gulps, only looking at her eyes-. I wasn't going to wait for the damage to be done-, she says.

-Smart-, he nods-. You...you didn't wait, then-. He whispers.

-I always do what I want-. The princess mumbled, lying over her shoulder, and looking at his eyes with deepness.

Jacaerys gulped, again.

Afterwards, he couldn't stop his eyes anymore, and they glanced down to her near body. He started having those thoughts again when staring at the curvature of her waist and the thickness of her thighs behind her red skirt, when looking at the generosity of her neckline, where her covered breasts come up and down along her slow breathing.

Jacaerys thinks to himself how he is husband to the most beautiful and, forgive his bluntness, most sensual woman of The Seven Kingdoms. Countless are the men that would kill for having her touch, not to say for having her as their wife. Her smell is said to drive man insane, and he is a victim himself. While those men kill each other for the princess...he has her lying right beside him, on the bed.

Inevitably, the brown-haired gets nervous, gulping yet again, and moving a little on the mattress.

-What do you think we'll have for- uh- supper, tonight?-. He asks, curious.

The princess looks at him, centimeters away from his face.

-What do you fancy?-. She questioned back, whispering, taking all the breath of his lungs.

She knows what she is doing.

Jace hums, closing his eyes, and not keeping himself anymore from granting her a kiss. Daera sighs heavily, closing his eyes as well, and answering to his lips with slowness.

The spouses both kiss each other in total silent, sensing the fresh breeze that comes from balcony. Jace places his hand on her cheek, caressing it, and she places her hand behind his neck, pushing closer. He moaned, surprised, and then again when she started to go faster with her lips. The prince shakes, answering the best he could.

Jacaerys feels her hand starting to caress his hair. She is his sister, and this is not at all the first time she caress his mane like that, but this time was completely different. She hided her whole hand into his brown jungle, caressing it deeply, and then gave him a little pull, making to grunt, and to feel a prominent tickle in the between of his legs.

-Daera-, he whispered, breathless, when the kiss ended.

-Yes?-, she mumbles, playing with her lips around his, breathing around them. He sighs, bemused, mesmerized by her purple eyes-. Do you want me to show you?-, she proposes, with a thread of voice.

-What?-, he sighs, in trance.

Daera thinks about Aemond. This is not infidelity, she convinces herself. Is not. She doesn't wishes to ask him wether "if she can", because that would only bring a really big unnecessary discussion, and she knows it, and prefers go avoid that. Since when does she asks for permission? She will tell him, and that is it. This is something that must be done, for their child.

The Rogue Princess, in all of her cockiness, grabs the hands of her brother, and makes him to quickly move in the bed. Mesmerized, he follows every move she made him do. And, within three seconds, he ended up seated in the mattress, leaning his back on the back of the bed.

Daera meets their lips again, kissing him first, for the first time ever. Jace sighs, furrowing his brows, moving his nervous hands on the sheets under. Afterwards, the princess climbs on top of him, and suddenly, she ended up seated on his leather pants's lap.

In that moment, Jace let out the strongest of moans, opening his mouth and eyes with surprise, and fascination. He looked down, shocked, seeing her open legs wrapped around his, clenching his sides. He breathes fast, turning as red as a tomato, nodding with silliness.

-Seven heavens-, he whispers.

His wife grabbs him by the neck, and starts kissing him again, stoppless. The prince moaned from deep his throat, wrinkling the sheets on his hands, not daring to place them on her, though he so much wants it. Daera, aware of his lack of touch, thanked it, and kept kissing as if she didn't notice.

The princess gripped his body with her legs and, afterwards, she started to circle her hips around him, dancing over his lap. Jacaerys straight out whimpered inside of her mouth, speechless, closing his eyes strongly. His heart started to beat so fast as his pants grow everytime tighter before the strong touches of her. Oh gods, he is feeling something. There is that thing under her skirt, in the between of her legs, rubbing against what is the between of his. It is so soft, even with the fabric in the middle, and is making him go insane.

Daera broke the kiss, opening her lips into a moan that will shame herself for the rest of her life. She wasn't expecting a sudden punch in her core by the pants of Jacaerys, and she definitely wasn't expecting such a thick and beefy cock, his, pushing against her. The princess blinks multiple times, thinking of Aemond, seeing his eye on her mind.

-Fuck-, she sighs, rocking her hips and making her dressed cunt to pamper Jace's awaken cock.

-Oh, gods-. The prince sighed as well, so silly and blushed, not believing The Rogue Princess got him this hard, with just seconds. He has never had a woman touching him like this, until now, less meandering above his dick-. Sister-, he moans, weak.

-I could not wait more-. She whispered against his lips, taking his hands, and interlocking their fingers. He groans, looking at her with teary brown eyes, constantly peering at her wrinkled skirt rubbing endlessly against his erection-. I know you want me, brother-. She seduced him with a honeyed voice.

-I do, I do-. His weak breath answers, with his chest coming up and down. Daera bites her lips, placing their united hands above of his head, trapping them in the back of the bed. Jace moans, feeling he is losing his mind-. I am sorry-, he whispered, blushed.

-Ouh do not be-. She sing-songs, tilting her head, and leaning it closer to his, watching at his eyes. He breathes fastly, seriously starting to believe his sister is some kind of witch. How does she holds so much power?-...I want you too, Jace-. Daera forced herself to say.

Jacaerys opened his mouth, moaning, and she took him by surprise by kissing again, now bringing out her tongue unexpectedly, making him to flinch and moan louder than before. He feels her expert tongue licking the most sensible part of his mouth and lips. She bites his lips, and then kisses them with slowless as her hips keep moving. He does as much as he can, also using his tongue, and licking hers with his, groaning when finding the sweet flavour of her saliva.

-Daera-, Jace breathes fastly. She humms, licking above his lips while he said her name. He whimpers, trembling whole, unbelievable-. I- I can't-, he whines, seeing her tongue, intimidated by the arrogance of it, and ashamed by the inexperience of his.

-You can-, she promised him, whispering, making the most perfect circles with her hips. The prince cries, not knowing that he is being really loud.

They are dry-humping in Daera's bed, filling the air with fast breaths and loud moans, feeling their private areas touching and rubbing harshly against each other under the fabric of their clothes. Jacaerys feelis his cock twitching and pulsing, and Daera is ashamed to admit that her cunt is somewhat wet, not having resisted to the strength of the prince's manhood, it is so meaty.

Nothing will ever compare to Aemond, she says to herself, trying to only picture him.

-Sister-, Jacaerys whispers when they ended another kiss, and he groans when seeing a thick thread of saliva hanging between their lips-. Daera-, he names with no breath, feeling her harsh grip on his trapped hands, and her fast moves on his strong cock-. Daera!-, he moans sharply.

She kisses his lips for a second, and then again, and then again, and then abruptly gets her tongue into them again. Jace cried loudly, melting under her, and answering with weakness, for he is just overwhelmed by all the pleassure that he never had even a little taste of before in his life.

-Daera!-. Jace's body suddenly tensed up completely, and his factions all wrinkled as his mouth let out the biggest of moans, shaking and trembling under her.

The princess grips his hands harder, and makes slow circles with her core over his cock when she felt it twitching endlessly. Jace whines time after time, with his chest coming up and down, and his face turning even more red than before.

He saw stars in his closed eyes, and when he opened them, found the brightest of them.

Daera breathes fast in front of him, with his saliva around her mouth, and strands of hair in the middle of her sight. Jace moans weakly, blinking slowly, staring at her with his mouth opened. The dance of hips has ended, and now he just feels a pulsing thing still against his pants.

The princess quietly blinks, furrowing her lips while she looks at him with a silly expression, blinkless. The prince, with no breath, gulps strongly.

-Le-...let me go clean myself-. He whispers, completely blushed.

Daera blinks bigly, foolishly starting to nod.

-Of course, of course-. She starts to get off him, kneeling on the bed at his side. Jace moaned lowly shen she moved. Inevitably, his sister glanced at his pants, finding a remarkable bulk in there.

The princess opens her mouth, bemused. It is bigger than Aemond's, for the fuck's fucking fucks.

Jace gets off the bed, and she flinches when he limps.

-I'm fine, I'm fine!-. He instantly assured, raising his hands. She blinks, seeing him slowly walking away-...More than fine-, he foolishly whispered.

Heading onto the washroom, Jace blinks in shock, feeling how his undergarments are literally soaking with cum, endlessly. He'll have to run to his rooms, right now, to take an immediate bath.

The prince sighs, not believing that he just had his first sexual experience, and what a experience it was.

《 ... 》

Masterlist of the main story, if it interest you ♡

#house of the dragon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacerys velaryon #house velaryon #house targaryen #oc character #oc character house of the dragon #jace velaryon x oc character #smut #fanfic #the dance of the dragons #+18

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kaunis-sielu · 1 year

Text

A Payment: 11

A/N: smut

You’d never met Pepper Potts but you’ve heard of her. You’ve heard that she’s a force to be reckoned with and when she comes into your home with Tony you understand. She’s no nonsense, firm but kind and she and Tony compliment one another perfectly.

She’s light and airy during dinner but when Tony attempts to start to talk shop she shuts him down.

“Not at the table Tony.”

“Babe. This is a work dinner.” He protests and she raises an eyebrow at him and Tony lets out a long sigh, “Okay, okay.” You and Steve share an amused glance.

“So, this marriage, is it legit?” Pepper asks, “because really Steven I thought we’d at least be informed ahead of time.”

“It happened fast. At some point I think it’d be lovely to do a renewal of some sort.” You tell her meeting Steve’s eyes with a little smile.

“You’d want that Honey?” He asks and you nod, maybe someday when you’re ready to be really married to him you could have a renewal ceremony that is actually your first ceremony. “Consider it done. Whenever you want.”

“Adorable. Tony why don’t you do shit like that for me?”

“I do! I just bought you a bunny!”

“A giant stuffed animal bunny does not count as being romantic or sweet.” She glances over at you, amusement clear on her face, “It’s a fifteen foot stuffed animal. What in the hell am I supposed to do with that?” You laugh softly and shrug.

“I’m afraid you’ve stumped me.” You admit and she laughs, the dinner and desert goes well, you actually enjoy the time you spend talking with Tony and Pepper but once dinner is over the two men stand to leave the table. Steve presses a quick kiss to your lips,

“We’ve got some business to talk. Do you want to know?”

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll be back soon.”

You and Pepper spend the time chatting, she pitches an idea that she has to you about getting a charity group started, something that you think is a wonderful idea. You know that donating money can help protect you and Steve, and you like being able to give back. You put a meeting with her on your calendar for after your next work week.

“You two are very cute.” Pepper says, giving you a sideways glance as she sips some wine.

“Thank you.” You tell her before your own sip.

“Did you know he was going destroy your family’s company before you married him?”

“No.” You’re not going to lie to her, she’s probably heard about your first meeting with Tony.

“And you’re okay with it?”

“They don’t give a fuck about me, my father is a terrible man, abusive and vile and my brother is no better. So yes, I’m okay with it.” She nods once, in understanding and you can’t help but wonder what she’s been treated like.

When Steve and Tony come back you hang out for a cup of coffee then the pair head home. You move to the kitchen and start to clean up from dinner, Steve joins you and your heart races. This is the first time that you’ve been alone together since your little announcement that you’re ready to have sex with him.

You can feel his eyes on you, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he starts to help you clean up, you wash dishes silently and when you finish with the last bowl he takes it from you and places it on the counter.

“I’m fairly certain that’s not where that goes.” You tease him as he moves behind you.

“Honey, I honestly don’t give a fuck.” He says into your hair as he wraps his arms around you. “I’ve been dying for somethin’ sweet all night.”

“Devil’s food cake wasn’t sweet enough for you?”

“I’m thinkin’ something more like honey, with a little sass and just for me.” He rumbles before kissing you under your ear. Your heart is racing as you drop your head back against him. “What do ya think Honey? Can I have a taste?” He whispers and you’re pretty sure that your soul leaves your body.

“Yes.” You breathe and Steve turns you around, his hands splayed across your waist and he presses a kiss to your lips. There’s more heat to this kiss than the others you’ve had with him, probably because you both know what’s coming next.

“Jump.” He murmurs against your lips before pulling away. You do as he says and you’re in his arms, his hands are under your ass and as you kiss him again he starts moving. Steve only pauses when he gets to the stairs,

“I can,” you offer a breath away from his lips and he growls.

“No.” He starts slowly then up the stairs and you can’t help but be impressed as he picks up speed and carries you up the rest of the stairs. When you get to your room you reach behind you and open the door, Steve kicks it shut once you’re through and before you know it he’s lowered you onto the bed. Steve stands between your knees and looks down at you,

“God you’re so pretty.” He says, “But I want this,” He tugs at the skirt of your dress, “off.”

“You’ll have to unzip me.” You tell him, but before you can move he pulls a knife from somewhere and slices clean through the side of your dress. “Steve!”

“I’ll buy you another.” He promises throwing the knife over his shoulder and onto the floor. “Thank god I didn’t know what was under that dress earlier.” He murmurs looking at the matching lace set you’re wearing. Before he can touch either piece you hold up a hand.

“Do not rip these, also, I’m finding it wholly unfair that I’m the only one in my underwear.” You fold your arms over your chest, knowing exactly what it’s doing to your cleavage and when Steve pops all of the buttons of his shirt rather than just undoing them you can’t help but laugh. “Pants?”

“Then I’ll be the only one naked baby.” He says dropping to his knees, “Now, let me get a taste of my dessert.” He loops his arms around your hips and scoots your ass forward on the bed, he peels your underwear off of your legs then presses his mouth to your core. You can’t think straight with his mouth on you. You can’t do much of anything, even hold yourself up while he, enjoys his dessert. You can’t help but buck your hips and Steve laughs,

“Honey if you can’t stay still I’m gonna have to tie you to the bed.”

“Knew you’d like that.” You pant and he gently bites your inner thigh.

“Those claws baby.” He teases before going back to your core.

It doesn’t take long for you to snap, Steve has figured you out as if he’s known you forever.

“Steve, I’m, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Please, don’t stop, don’t.” You pant and thank god he continues and you shudder cumming hard.

“Fucking best dessert I’ve ever had.” Steve says grinning at you from between your legs.

“Fuck.” You breathe and Steve kisses you as he undoes his pants, you struggle out of your bra. Steve’s hand slides up your side, it’s warm and callous against your skin.

“God damn you’re so pretty Honey.” He murmurs before kissing you again, you whine softly as his cock brushes against your thigh.

“Steve.”

“What?”

“Please.”

“I don’t know Honey, I told you I wouldn’t fuck you until you begged me for it.”

“I hate you.” You growl and he laughs, nipping the skin of your jaw under your ear.

“Beg me.” He says teasing your folds with his cock, “Come on Baby, you know you wanna.” You glare up at him, how can he be so sexy, so wonderful, so loving and such a jackass?

“I don’t think I will.” You tell him and his eyes darken as you slip a hand between your thighs and start to play with yourself. Steve reaches over to the nightstand, pulls something out then grabs your hands and before you can blink he has your hands cuffed above your head.

“You wanna try that again Sweetheart?” Steve asks and you give a little tug at the cuffs,

“Steve.” You grumble and he kisses you softly,

“Beg me.”

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