#modern languages head canons

[elaratyrell]

Jacaerys Velaryon NSFW Alphabet

*Divider from saradika-graphics*

Warnings: AFAB! Reader, smut under the cut {duh}, language, mentions of pregnancy, Jace's monster dick, breeding kink

A/N: Look at him. Look at how beautiful he is! Prince of Dragonstone ❤️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The king of aftercare, Jace will always prioritise your needs first in the bedroom, and that still applies to afterwards. You're feeling slightly sore? He'll immediately run you a warm bath himself with your favourite bath oils and massage your aching body. You're hungry or thirsty? He's already dressed and gone to the kitchens to fetch you a snack and a bottle of the finest Dornish red or Arbor gold. You just want to be held? He'll happily oblige. He'll hold you securely in his warm embrace, peppering kisses across your bare skin and softly singing to you in High Valyrian as you slowly fall asleep.

Modern! Jace will be pretty similar to his canon counterpart. He'll get you something to clean up with, run you a bath or shower and make sure you have everything you need to be comfortable.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jace is pretty much happy with everything about himself physically, but doesn't really think about himself like that. He would probably say his favourite body part is whatever his partner loves. Whether that be his hands, his mouth, his cock, whatever they love the most, he'll appreciate about himself the most.

As for his partner, he adores everything about you. If you asked him, he couldn't be able to name one thing. Your hips, your stomach, your thighs, your breasts, your cunt, your ass... he loves all of them. But he does adore your eyes. He loves gazing into them, how they well with emotion, how they cloud and glaze over in pleasure as he brings you to the edge again and again. Even outside of being intimate with you, he'll always be gazing into them, admiring how the light reflects in them, how your pupils dilate when you meet his gaze, how they flash with emotion. They're the physical part of you that shows who you are the most, and he loves that.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I stand by my opinion that Jace has a bit of a breeding kink, and would love to cum inside of you. It's more intimate and the though of you two having a child drives him wild. But if you have a preference for where you'd rather him release, he'd be happy to comply.

Modern! Jace will always use protection if you're having penetrative sex unless you're actively trying for a baby or feel comfortable enough for him to release inside of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's the heir to the Iron Throne, the Prince of Dragonstone. He has definitely fantasized about fucking you on that throne, the pretty crowns adorning both of your heads sealing your rightful place as King and Queen of Westeros.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Hmmm... canon Jace would pretty much have zero experience, especially if you were betrothed when young (unless you count Aegon allegedly taking he and Aemond to a brothel when they were younger).

Modern! Jace will probably have some experience here and there if he dates you during college or afterwards, whether that be from hook-ups or a past relationship, but he hasn't slept around as much as Aegon has.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary and he doesn't care if it's considered "vanilla", it's intimate, and he can have his gaze locked with yours all the while. He loves the way your bodies are pressed together, your legs hooked around his hips or even over his shoulders, lips connecting every few seconds as he thrusts into you. He also doesn't mind you sat in his lap, hips rolling against his. Any position where he can see your face. It's closer, more intimate and romantic where he can see you, kiss you, hold you closer.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think Jace lies somewhere in the middle. He won't go out of his way to be funny or humorous when having sex, but he also wants you to be comfortable, and will happily smile and laugh and make a joke to make you seem at ease. He won't take it completely seriously though, he isn't like that.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dark curls up there, dark curls down there. But he keeps everything relatively neat and trimmed. He wants to look his best for you, of course, and does take pride in his appearance due to his status.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Jace is a romantic. He will see it as an intimate act, even in the more casual and light hearted times you've had sex. It’s an expression of his love, especially if in a serious relationship or betrothal with you. He's not the type to just sleep around with people unless he truly feels some kind of connection with them, and the deeper the connection, the more intimate he considers it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As a last resort. If you're apart for a long period of time then he might need to blow of some steam, but he tries to wait it out for as long as possible until he can see you, since he knows that you can help him out better than his own hand ever could.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I feel like Jace wouldn't have as many kinks as other men in the hotd universe, but here are the ones that I feel he could potentially have:

Praise Kink: Nothing gets him going like you moaning about how good he's making you feel. He also loves singing your praises and feeling you hold him that little bit tighter. To be in this vulnerable intimate moment and hear you breathe out those three words makes his heart soar. Knowing he's making you feel this good makes him feel good, and makes that moment all the more special.

Hair Pulling: If you want this man to moan pull his hair. Feeling your fingers tangle in his curls, nails scraping across his scalp as you tug hard at his roots will drive him crazy. He fucking loves it.

Breeding Kink: The thought of you having a child together, having an heir to continue your family lines will definitely bring something out within him. Maybe not in the way someone like Aemond would. It's not the thought of continuing the Targaryen dynasty on, it's the thought of continuing your shared line, binding him to you and you to him forever. The idea of you wanting to have a child with him, regardless of... ahem, rumours, but because you love him, because you want him... draws out that possessive side of him.

Size Difference: I'm not talking about a physical height different here. I'm talking about the size of other things. I'm talking about when he's inside of you, and he sees the outline of his cock bulging your stomach. I'm talking about when he gently presses down on it and elicits a moan of his name from you. I'm talking about that.

Marking: It's that possessive side of him. It shows people you belong to him. Shows his uncles that you chose him, that you want to be with him, that he's the one who makes you feel good. I'm talking hickies, bruises and bites littering your neck, your chest, your thighs. Red nail lines raked down his back. And he'll happily let you leave one or two on him as well. It goes both ways.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

He'll mostly appreciate the privacy of your bed chambers or personal rooms where nobody can interrupt you, but if you rile him up enough, he may be tempted to sneak off somewhere discreet.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Tease him. He'll snap. His cheeks will flush, his jaw will clench, hands pinned by his sides and balled into fists. You will have such a hold over him, the effect you have, it drives him wild. And you might not even realise that you're doing it. An accidental brush of the hand will cause his whole body to stiffen until he realises it wasn't intended. A firm kiss to his neck will make his head tilt back and his hold on you to tighten.

Jealousy will also be a big motivation for him, on both sides. If you're feeling insecure, he'll show you that you have nothing to worry about, that he loves you and only you. If he's the one suffering a case of the green eyed monster, his more dominant, possessive side will come out. You're with him, not anyone else.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not hurt you, he will not degrade you, and he will not want anyone else to watch. Sex is a private thing between the two of you, and no one else.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He's a giving king. A selfless lover unless truly provoked, he'll happily spend hours between your legs just to hear your sweet moans and taste you as you come undone beneath him (or above him, he'd let you sit on his face).

Of course, he won't object to you wanting to give him pleasure, but if he had to chose, he'd chose you over him any day.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends. Eight or nine times out of ten, it'll be passionate. He'll take his time in making you feel pleasure, preparing you for him and making sure the experience is completely satisfying for the both of you. But if he's riled up, whether that be from jealousy, a fight of just general frustrations, then he may be more rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers to take his time with you, but if he or you needs it that badly, or his duties are time consuming and have led to the two of you not spending time with each other as often, he will of course be down for a quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes. If you want to try something new, he will give it a try unless he's genuinely uncomfortable with it, like if you wanted him to hurt you, he'd be very hesitant.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last a few rounds for sure. Maybe even all night. For as long as you need him to keep going, he will. And if his cock can’t take any more, he has his hands and mouth to satiate your desires.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't think Jace would ever own toys, but would use them if you had any you wanted to use. However, they wouldn't be his first port of call. I don't think he'd feel the need for them, since he can give you such pleasure with only his body. He wouldn't be opposed to toys, but wouldn't see them as a compulsory need either.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jace will only tease to a certain extent to prolong any intimate moment you have. He likes the reactions he can get out of you, and how it makes your release that much more intense.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I feel like he'd moan, groan and grunt a lot. It wouldn't be overly loud, most of the time muffled in some way, but not quiet either. And he wouldn't hold any noise back either. Why shouldn't he let you know how good you're making him feel? He'll moan your name a lot, breathe out praises on how good you're making him feel. You may even be able to draw out a groan if he's got that much pent up frustration.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I want to talk about Jace's dominance for a second. This man has a POSSESSIVE streak.

Yes, Jace is kind. He is selfless and loving and protective of those he loves. But he does have a temper. And he does feel possessive over you. It's not because he doesn't trust you, because he does, with his entire being, but his protective nature just goes to the next level with you. And when he gets jealous and that possessive side comes out, his rougher, more dominant side will emerge as well. The side that will pin you against the nearest wall, that will have your eyes rolling back into your head, his name being the only word you can speak, you can think of as he rips release after release from you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Do we really need to go over this? We know he's got a monster cock. It's long, it's girthy, it's huge.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high. He's pretty much always down if you are. It's not necessarily sex he's always after that makes his drive so high, it's you. You make him crazy. He could never get enough of you, hence why his drive sky rocketed after he started dating you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not that quickly. He'll make sure you're okay first, make sure you have everything you need. He'll probably wait for you to fall asleep if you're both wanting to rest, just to ensure you don't need anything before allowing himself to succumb to his tiredness. If you need to be up, to attend to duties or events of the day, he'll probably go and shower or bathe (with you preferably) after making sure you're okay.

Tag List:

@watercolorskyy @jacesvelaryons @bucknastysbabe @snowprincesa1 @your-favorite-god @howyouloveyourdragon

If you wanted to be added to the general HOTD taglist or taglists for specific character/s, just let me know

Masterlist

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

anything related of Anders??

prob some fluff where this menacing teddybear is all lovey-dovey with his girl?? or, or some teammates to lovers??

anything really, I just need something for this man as there AREN'T ENOUGH FICS ABOUT HIM!! Gosh, I need him like air 😭😫

Btw, I adore your writing 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Thank you so much, love! I am so obsessed with Anders and you're right, there is seriously NOTHING for him. Send as many ideas you want, I'll do my best to answer them. And let me know if you want a smutty follow up.

Anders Lassen x Female Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, blood, and canon typical violence.

Living for Later

The situation was grim at best. The soldiers in their crisp white uniforms had varying degrees of expression, from confusion to anger, and the worst of all glee. The glass case at your back digs in, the sharp edge leaving an imprint and the gun slips from your fingertips. The last of your bullets expended on the men bleeding out onto the soles of your boots. 

“Shit,” you whisper, reaching behind you for the handle on the case, seeing the axe behind it from the corner of your eye. Behind the men, you see Apple's face a reflection of the anger you feel. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. Apple quickly looks behind him, talking to someone on the ground and you strain to see anything when the soldiers close in. Two men grab each of your arms and another puts his hand around your throat. Something similar had happened the night before but this was a much less pleasant experience. You close your eyes when he moves closer whispering to you in his filthy tongue and you flinch away. 

The group laughs as he pulls back to spit in your face. You open your eyes and see the shine of a knife and start thrashing doing everything in your power to escape. Apple finds your eyes and a smile splits across his face. You’re ready to curse him at every language you know when the first wail of pain reaches your ears. 

Your heart pounds as you see the wide shoulders of Anders Lassen spear his way through the soldiers. He’s down to his last two arrows and he digs it into the eye of the one holding you, spraying blood onto the wall like a work of modern art. He’s seriously outnumbered and you look around when the axe catches your eyes. Ripping open the case you grab the axe and shout, “Anders!” He turns and grins, grabbing the axe and letting loose the beast you’d only seen twice before. 

Moving along the wall, you reach where Apple is watching his mouth wide. One of the men tries to grab the axe when Anders kicks him in the throat, shouting, “My woman gave that to me!” Before planting the axe in his head. Anders heaves, his shirt coated in blood before he turns to you with a smile, “You okay, love?” Like he didn’t just brutally butcher a group of enemy soldiers. 

You giggle and his smile grows as he crowds you against the wall, lifting your head with one finger his eyes checking over every inch of you. “Are you hurt, Min Elskede?” he asks quietly, his finger tracing over your cheek before he holds your face in his hands. 

“No,” you shake your head, the adrenaline slowly leaving your body, slumping against his body, “you killed them before they had the chance.” 

“I would burn the world down for you,” he presses his forehead to your own, “you know that, right?” 

“I know,” you reach up and press your lips to his own, “the feeling is mutual.” 

“While this is very romantic, being covered in blood, and kissing after just saving her life. We need to get moving,” Apple interrupts, wincing when you both glare at him. 

“Ja, we need to save the world, blah, blah, blah,” Anders grabs your hand tugging him behind you, “lead the way, Apple.” Apple starts up the stairs and Anders goes to follow but stops turning to give you a look that leaves your panties dripping, “this isn’t over, later you’re mine,” he presses his mouth to your own and you moan feeling his tongue tangle with you own, before he pulls away and pulls you up the stairs. 

You make a promise to live going up those stairs because you really wanna make it to later.

Do you want later? Let me know because that rope is giving me some thots.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (Epilogue)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: description of hard childbirth, fluffy sex, hate sex, smut, angst, kid catching his parents having sex, anxiety, depression, childhood feeling of rejection ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

We have reached the end of this journey: I hope this epilogue gives you a taste of what their family life was like. I had a lot of fun writing this from three perspectives and I think it's a great ending to this series. Thank you to everyone who was with me and supported me. You may cry that the main series is over, but there are still two modern AUs in which we will see Aemond and Rhaenys again!

Aemond & Rhaenys's Children Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond

It turned out that there was a role that terrified him more than being a ruler-regent alongside his wife and it was fatherhood. He was ashamed to admit it, but it was easier for him to understand the needs of the kingdom than his own son.

He was dominated above all by a sense of terror which made him freeze all over, not knowing what to do or how to behave. He first felt it when his niece suggested that he should take their newborn child into his arms.

"I don't know. You better hold him." He muttered, seeing in his mind all the possibilities of what he could do wrong and inadvertently hurt their son. His wife looked at him indulgently.

"Come here. Sit next to me." She said, encouraging him with a nod. He pressed his lips together, tense, and approached her slowly, sitting down beside her on the soft bedding. Viserys yawned loudly, twisting in his mother's arms, calm and content, his belly full of her milk.

He swallowed hard, horrified when she shifted towards him, wanting to hand him the infant in his hands. He immediately put his arms under him, afraid to drop him.

"Put his head here, on the bend of your arm. Just like that, support him with your hand on the other side. There you go." She said warmly, pleased at this sight. His heart stopped in his throat as her hands let go of his small body and his son remained in his embrace.

He was afraid that without his mother's familiar presence his son would begin to cry and become anxious, but he slept peacefully, snuggling into his leather tunic.

He was ashamed to feel the emotion and the burning tears under his eyelids looking at his small face, his tiny hands clenched into fists, thinking how great a burden was on him, though he did not yet know it.

On his son.

He swallowed hard when he felt his wife's hand on his back, her temple pressed against his cheek, looking at the scene.

"Isn't he beautiful?" She asked softly, and he was silent for a moment, feeling that he was struggling to find the right words to answer her.

"It's the most beautiful, innocent being I've ever seen in my life." He muttered and closed his eye in surrender, feeling a hot tear run down his cheek. She heard his heavy, uneven breath and leaned in, wanting to see his face.

"– oh, my love – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered tenderly, placing warm, wet, lingering kisses on his cheek. He snuggled his face into her neck, wanting as always to hide from his fear, insecurity and pain in her familiar vanilla-scented flesh.

From that moment on, holding Viserys no longer frightened him so much – what's more, he felt a sense of satisfaction when his son squirmed and squealed at the sight of him, happy, reaching out his small, chubby little hands to him, longing to be in his arms.

His father had never done that, but he had no intention of making his mistakes.

For this reason he took turns reading to him at bedtime with his wife. Sitting on his lap, Viserys gazed with big eyes at the richly illustrated legends of their ancestors, his little legs willowing in excitement every time dragons appeared on the pages of the book.

"Soon your dragon will hatch." He whispered in his ear, pointing his finger at a large vessel hanging over the hearth with a dragon egg inside, Daemon's gift to his grandson.

"You will fly in the skies. You will be king of the Seven Kingdoms. You will be fearless, fair, loved. I will be by your side." He hummed and kissed his plump, pink cheek.

His wife watched them with a smile, relaxing in a warm bath after a long, tiring day full of their duties.

The evenings, nights and mornings were just for them.

For their family.

She finally stood up from the water, throwing only a soft, cream-coloured robe over her body, tying it around her waist, reaching out her hands for their son, who had just fallen asleep in his arms.

"Don't wake him." He mumbled out in pain, purposely not moving from his seat unwilling to interrupt his slumber, handing Viserys to her. She laughed quietly under her breath, walking with their child towards the bed, sitting down on the sheets.

"I won't. Our little boy will eat his meal in his sleep." She hummed, slipping the sleeve of her robe off her shoulder, revealing her sweet, plump breast, all swollen with milk.

He swallowed hard, watching enthralled as his son, still asleep, in a natural reflex clamped his lips around her nipple and began to suckle with a purr of satisfaction.

He was ashamed of how he himself loved tasting her now, how warm and sweet her milk was melting on his tongue, how hard he was getting at the very thought that as soon as she laid their son down in the cradle, he would sink deep between her thighs as he did every night, cuddled into her fragrant body, listening to her sweet moans, only to fill her again with his seed.

The news that his wife was expecting his child again filled them with joy, and the birth of their third son reassured the entire kingdom – Viserys, Aegon and Daeron had secured the line of succession.

However, this time his niece endured the hardships of childbirth worse than before.

"Aemond!" He heard her desperate cry from behind the door of her chamber and, despite his brother's attempts to stop him, he walked inside.

He was horrified to see her blood all around her, her face at once pale and red from tears of exertion, her swollen lips parted in loud, pitiful moans.

"– uncle – the baby won't come out – oh gods, oh gods, oh gods –" She muttered, tilting her head back in a sudden panic attack, her mother began to comfort her quickly, squeezing her hand in her own.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he walked over to her, sitting down next to her on the bed, grasping her hand in his.

"– I'm here – I'm so sorry, my sweetest – I'm so sorry –" He mumbled out in a trembling voice, cradling her in his arms, feeling her go breathless all over, a squeal escaping her lips and a quiver of discomfort as another contraction shook her body.

"– fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, gods, please! –" She sobbed, and all he could do was cuddle his face into her hair, his heart pouding like a mad in horror.

He wasn't sure he'd experienced anything more terrifying, more heartbreaking in his entire life.

"– just a little more – I can see the head – there it is, push, Princess, push now –" She commanded, and by some effort incomprehensible to him, after several attempts, his niece forced his son out into the world, who wept loudly in Alys Rivers' arms.

"– he has your hair, Princess –" She whispered, and his wife breathed a sigh of relief, wailing loudly from the exhaustion, horror and pain her whole body went through.

Alicent and Rhaenyra promised to look after their children so that their mother would have a few days to recover – Viserys and Aegon were only allowed to see her for a moment, once the bedding had been changed and he had helped her dress in a clean, snow-white nightgown.

"– I envy him – your dark hair is more to my liking –" Aegon muttered, glancing over Alicent's shoulder at the infant she held in her arms.

"– enough – your mother needs to rest –" He said shakily, unable to pull himself together after what had happened, seeing with what difficulty his niece was smiling at their sons, trying to pretend that all was well.

He knew it wasn't.

She burst out crying in his arms as soon as they were alone, panting and whooping with her tears, his hands stroking her back and hair tenderly, trying to soothe her.

"– I'm so sorry – I know, my love – shhh – I'm here –" He whispered, kissing the top of her head again and again. His niece swallowed loudly, trying to catch her breath.

"– forgive me – forgive me for making you watch this –" She muttered helplessly, as if she was ashamed that she had forced him to look at something that was meant only for the eyes of women.

"– no – I would not forgive myself if you had to go through this alone – my sweet, brave wife – now just rest –" He whispered. She breathed a loud sigh of relief and snuggled into him, calming down slowly, exhausted after the hardships of childbirth and the emotions she had experienced.

He carried her in his arms because she couldn't get up or sit up, helped her bathe, change and eat, wanting her to know that her suffering and sacrifice for him and their family was not indifferent to him. Knowing that she needed rest, for days he would fall asleep by her side stroking her head, shoulders and back, letting her sink into the safe embrace of his arms.

However, he couldn't help what he felt as he looked at her, that he desired her and her body, that he wanted to touch her.

That he wanted to make love to her.

At some point, he realised that the desire she aroused in him was different than it had been at first: from a fiery, burning feeling of wanting to taste the forbidden fruit again and again, his needs had changed over the years and he knew that no other woman could satisfy them.

It was not because he did not find other women beautiful or worthy of desire, but because only her body brought him solace, only her hands touched him in a way that made him hot, only her scent sent shivers down his spine, only her bright eyes shone with a wonderful warmth at the sight of him.

Her insides were always ready to receive him, silky, moist and hot, giving him a sense of security, her naked body soft and inviting – his manhood, already without his mind's involvement, reacted with a joyful, excited pulsing and twitching in his breeches at the sight of her, equating her with the pleasure he experienced every time.

He concluded that, just as men became addicted to wine or cards, he became addicted to his wife's closeness.

Therefore, he couldn't explain to his painfully swollen erection why suddenly, despite his wife's constant presence next to him, he couldn't touch her and had to be patient: he craved her constantly and died lying next to her, unable to sleep from the tension.

One night his niece, feeling the way his swollen length was pushing, tucked into his breeches, against her stomach, took pity on him, gripping his fat, warm manhood in her hand. He moaned like a helpless little boy, rolling his hips to the rhythm of her strokes, her fingers giving him an encouraging, assured squeezes at the base making his heart begin to pound like mad.

"– please –" He muttered, his hand sinking into her smooth hair, his lips, puffy with desire, found hers in a hot, wet, sticky kiss full of their teeth and tongues.

His wife knew his manhood well – she teased the head of it, leaking with his desire, with her thumb, making it pulsate all over and tremble in her embrace, her tongue gently licking his, making him fall apart in front of her after a moment, desperate. He groaned with a loud sigh of pleasure, closing his eye in relief when he felt his hot seed spurt out onto her nightgown.

"– fuck –" He gasped, feeling a complete and wonderful emptiness in his head, her small body snuggled into his.

He heard her smile.

"Try to sleep now, husband."

That night, indeed, he slept a stony sleep like a small child.

Over the following months, they both slowly pushed the boundary: his niece again let his fingers sink tentatively into her fleshy, velvety folds, his fingers teased her nipples when, after his tender treatments, she finally reached fulfilment in his arms, moaning his name loudly.

"– put it inside me, uncle – please –" She mumbled helplessly one night, rocking her hips so that again and again her buttocks rubbed against his yearningly swollen manhood.

"– I can't, my sweetest – not yet –" He muttered – her small hand clenched on his arm which embraced her, her warm womanhood all pulsing, leaking with her sticky wetness under his fingers.

"– please – please, husband, I can't take it anymore –" She cried out in despair – he grasped her cheeks in his hand and twisted her face, only then seeing that tears were running from her eyes.

"– are you sure? –" He muttered in a trembling voice, feeling his whole manhood tremble and pulsate with desire, dreaming only of sinking into her warm walls again. His niece nodded her head quickly, making him grin involuntarily.

"– this little cunt misses me so much? –" He murmured affectionately and she nodded again, her pink, puffy lips parted in a sigh as the tips of his two fingers began to stretch her swollen, wet slit.

"– come here –" He murmured and she cried out loudly as he released his swollen erection from his breeches in a sure, aggressive motion, dreaming of feeling her this way again for weeks, immediately directing the head of his cock dripping from his moisture onto her tight, throbbing opening.

The feeling of being deep inside her again was an almost spiritual sensation – they both sighed and groaned as if relieved that they could be one body, one person again.

"– that's it – there you go –" He gasped, rolling his hips, sliding slowly deep into her only to slide out of her almost fully a moment later, again and again opening her swollen entrance on his thick, pulsing erection with the quiet clicks of her wetness.

"– good gods – I didn't fill you for so fucking long – my poor wife left without my seed –" He muttered with difficulty, his eyes closed while he longed to focus only on this, on her warm, soft, moist walls squeezing him greedily where it was so safe, so good, thrusting into her more and more confidently, feeling the familiar tightness in his stones proving that he was surprisingly close to reach his peak.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled, and nothing more than their sighs, moans and cries left their throats until they came together, panting heavily, all soaking wet and hot from the exertion.

His arms embraced her tightly, his lips placed quick, hot kisses on her shoulders as his chest clung to her back, their legs entwined together in disarray.

"– gods, I missed you –"

Viserys

Viserys knew no other married couple who behaved as his parents did in the solitude of their chambers. He had witnessed many times conversations between his mother and his father, the fearless, menacing One-Eyed Prince, rider of the mightiest dragon walking on the world.

He could hear the man he feared and admired at the same time listening silently to his wife's words, her comments on his decisions and their validity.

His mother had never challenged him in public during the meetings of the Small Council, but she did so often when they were already left alone, and his father, to his surprise, did not explode with anger, as was his custom, but listened to her with calmness and respect.

His father allowed himself to be touched only by his wife – only she could take his hand, stroke his cheek, sit on his lap when they thought no one could see.

He had witnessed them embrace, his father's lips pressed against her ear as he stood behind her back, his hands met with hers on her lower abdomen, stroking her skin hidden beneath her night robe, his words meant only for her.

Only once had he seen his father terrified: when his mother, standing by his side in the throne room as they listened to the lords' speeches, suddenly fainted, unaware that she was already carrying his sister in her womb at the time.

He remembered that the day had been exceptionally hot, and his mother had been feeling ill since the morning: in accordance with the agreement, neither she nor her husband could sit on the Iron Throne, so they stood before it during a gathering of the whole court.

His father, usually cool and composed in his actions, rushed towards her to catch her, and then began shouting at the guards to lead the lords out of the room and bring in the maester immediately.

Viserys sat by her bed with his younger brother, Aegon, holding her hand in his, listening in silence to the exchange between his father, the maester and his grandfather.

"The Queen Regent should not strain herself. She is expecting your child, Your Grace."

"So soon?" Mumbled his father, as if surprised – his youngest brother, Daeron, had been born only five months earlier.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Are you surprised? Don't you know how children are brought into this world?" Daemon hissed.

Viserys and Aegon pressed their lips together, looking in horror at their father, who was staring at their grandfather wide-eyed, breathing heavily, furious.

He had never heard anyone speak to him this way before.

His father looked away as if he felt ashamed, bitter apparently at having contributed to his wife's suffering.

His mother awoke after a few hours, but she was weak and the maester ordered that she should lie in bed for a few days and gain strength.

His father gave up his daily routine to simply sit by her side, sinking into reading great volumes about the history of Essos.

He wanted to make his mother smile and lift her spirits, however, he had no idea how he could do this and was afraid to ask his father.

He decided to seek a woman's advice.

"If your mother was tired and sad, what would you give her?" He asked Alyssa, sitting with her on the grass under one of the trees. His cousin pressed her lips together, swinging her legs, lying on her stomach.

"Field flowers. Or cakes. No, some beautiful letter. Or you could recite her a poem!" She began to quickly throw out ideas, excited, her blue eyes bright and beautiful, her long white eyelashes and hair pinned up in a braid glistening in the sun.

"I'd rather it be that one thing." He muttered, not wanting to make a jester of himself in front of his father.

"Field flowers." Alyssa decided.

"How will I know which ones are the right ones?" He asked reluctantly, as a man never delving into these, in his mind, girly, tendentious matters.

He breathed a sigh of relief when his cousin suggested they go to the gardens and pick them together.

Already standing outside the door of his parents' chamber, he began to feel doubts about whether what he wanted to do was a good idea.

What if his father will think that he is weak?

That he is behaving like a little girl?

If he looks at him with disapproval and embarrassment?

"My Prince?" He heard a voice behind him and saw a smiling woman, one of his mother's servants, who had apparently brought her warm soup.

He could no longer escape or retreat, so he went inside with her.

His father rose from his seat, his face expressing cold frustration.

"Why did it take so long?" He asked, the woman lowered her head.

"Forgive me, Your Grace."

"What is it?" He turned his words to him, looking at what he held in his hands. He swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks turn red with shame.

"Flowers for my mother. I wanted to make her smile." He muttered. His father blinked, silent for a moment.

"Good. Go to her. But don't torment her for too long. She needs to rest." His father said, and he nodded quickly, feeling the hard pounding of his heart, all hot with terror.

His mother was delighted with his bouquet composed of carnations, daisies, poppies and dandelions, her warm smile and look full of tenderness made him immediately calm down.

"Thank you, sweet boy." She whispered, stroking his cheek with her soft, familiar hand. She wanted to embrace him, but he moved away involuntarily, because he didn't want her to do this in front of his father.

Nine months later, his first little sister, Visenya, was born.

He remembered only a few years of his life during which his mother had not been with child.

He did not understand why, when he already had four siblings – two brothers and two sisters – there was still a need for more to be born.

Aegon, his brother, once told him that it was because of what married couples did at night – the septon explained to him that offspring resulted from a marital, physical union.

When he was sure he was alone in the library, he read in shame a small volume devoted to the begetting of descendants. He felt disgust and discomfort when he read about a man inserting part of his body between the woman's thighs, filling her with his seed.

It sounded foreign and unpleasant, and he wondered more and more whether his mother was actually in pain and needed to experience a bit of rest.

He dared to raise the issue one day during their supper together, which was a great mistake on his part.

"Aren't you tired, Mother?" He asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She and his father looked at him puzzled, his father having just handed her a tray of goose pate.

"What do you mean, my love?" She asked softly, as always looking at him with a tenderness and attention that made him feel safe.

He swallowed hard, looking reproachfully at his father, who was just taking a deep sip of wine, watching him vigilantly, his healthy eye shining uneasily in the firelight.

His father was mysterious, distant, beyond comprehension.

Cold.

Frightening.

"I struggle to recall a time during which you did not carry a child inside you. After all, your inheritance is secured, shouldn't you be able to rest at last?" He asked, bewildering his mother. His father pressed his lips into a thin line, frustrated by his remark, setting his cup down on the table with a loud clink of steel.

"Don't ever address me or your mother this way again. Apologise to her immediately for your inappropriate words." His father said slowly and coolly in a manner from which an unpleasant shiver ran down his spine, his eye wide open.

"Aemond." His mother turned to him, stroking anxiously her slightly rounded abdomen.

His father looked at her and licked his lower lip, silent – he knew that they communicated now, as they were sometimes in the habit of doing, by sight alone, without using words.

"Perhaps it would be appropriate for you to explain to your first-born son why I carry your child inside me again?" She asked with emphasis, her husband's lips curved in displeasure.

His father looked at him with a gaze from which he lowered his head, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart – he heard him lift the cup to his lips and take a deep sip of wine from it.

"There is no need."

Although when he was a little infant he had been in his father's arms as often as he had been in his mother's, the more he matured the more distant his father's figure seemed to become, inaccessible as a stone fortress.

They spent time together during sparring in the courtyard, where he trained him in the wielding of the sword, and while studying the language of Old Valyria, bent over old tomes.

His father was a strict and demanding teacher – although he never humiliated him or mocked him, he could see when his father was frustrated and he suffered deeply because of it.

He knew that there was only a three years left until he would be crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms and felt that he did not deserve it. It seemed to him that his father, looking at him, thought the same thing.

Compared to him, he was weak.

How could he surpass the greatest warrior in the world, able to speak as much about war as history or philosophy, knowing the language of their ancestors, riding the mighty Vhagar?

"Father does not love me." He muttered once, when they were alone in his chamber and his mother was helping him dress before they all set off for the Great Sept. She shook her head, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

"Your father loves you, Viserys. He cares about everything about you, but he can't show it." She said, looking at him in pain.

"He can show it to you, Mother." He replied reproachfully, not understanding why he did not have as much understanding and patience for him as he did for her.

She was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the stone floor beneath his feet.

"I am his wife. We are connected by a different bond, the kind that a man and a woman share." She explained, and he pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"No. He just loves you more than any of us." He replied dryly, pulling himself out of her embrace and walked out of the chamber, fastening the buckles of his tunic himself.

He was now thirteen years old, he was already a man and his mother, no matter how much he loved her, no longer had to help him dress as if he were a small child.

One evening, as he was about to inform his parents of his decision as to the guest list for the celebration of his Name Day, he heard from behind the door of their quarters sounds that disturbed him.

It seemed to him that his mother was moaning in pain.

When he opened them quietly and peeked inside, he saw his father's body from the side, pressing his mother to the bed, his hips rocking inside her in quick, deep thrusts with loud clicks of something wet and sticky, his hand holding her cheeks between his fingers in an iron grip as he looked down at her.

Although he always wore it in their presence, now he didn't have his eye patch on his face.

"– do you like the way he looks at you? – hm? – do you think I don't see him following you with his gaze? – dreaming that it is his child that you are carrying inside you? –" He hissed maliciously, pounding into her aggressively, making his mother squirm beneath him, driving her short nails into his shoulders as if trying to defend herself.

"– n-no – no, uncle –" She mumbled, panting loudly, her breath heavy and ragged, droplets of sweat on her skin.

Why was he hurting her?

Should he scream, come inside, tell him to stop?

"– no? – maybe I should gouge his eyes out? – if he doesn't know he's a fool, that he has no fucking right to desire you –" He growled, pressing his forehead against hers, panting and moaning along with her as the bed began to creak loudly under them with each of his thrusts, his mother tilting her head back and closing her eyes, an expression on her face that he didn't understand.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She cried out, pressing her husband's body against hers, crossing her legs over his bare back as if she didn't want to let him go, and after a moment they both made loud, almost animal-like sounds as if relieved, and his father's body fell on top of her without strength.

He swallowed hard, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart as he saw his father's hand brush his mother's cheek, his lips placing tender, lazy, loud kisses on her face as if she were a small child, whispering something to her.

His healthy eye opened suddenly, his pupil narrowed in shock when he saw him standing in the threshold of their chamber.

He ran away quickly, terrified, thinking his father would kill him with his own hands.

He trembled as he ran back into his chamber, sitting down on the bed, feeling that he was quivering with fear.

That his father would surely deprive him of his throne and banish him for what he had done, that he dared to look at their naked bodies like some disgusting sinner.

He shuddered and jumped up in his seat when, a moment later, the door opened and indeed his father stood in it, already wearing a shirt and breeches, his sapphire glowed in the warm firelight.

He curled into himself, prepared for his blow or scream, but his father just stood there looking at him, breathing heavily.

He sighed loudly and closed the door behind him, then walked slowly towards him, surprising him by sitting down next to him. For a moment he sat bent over, leaning on his elbows with his face hidden between his hands.

He finally looked at him and, to his surprise, he did not see rage in his gaze.

"Viserys. These are intimate moments meant only for my and your mother's eyes. What came to your mind to do this?" He said coolly but calmly.

He swallowed hard, red with shame, feeling that he was shaking, trying not to cry like a little girl out of fear.

"I thought… I thought you were hurting my mother. That's what it sounded like. Like she was in pain." He muttered.

His father pressed his lips together and licked his lower lip, then nodded.

"I see. It's good that you care about your mother's safety and want to protect her. However, know that I would never hurt her." He finally replied.

"Then why did she suffer?" He asked further trying to understand what he had actually seen.

His father sighed, picking at the cuticles around his fingernails as he always did when he felt discomfort.

"She didn't suffer. When we are very close, we experience pleasure so strong that it borders on pain."

"Is that why mother is expecting a baby again?" He asked quietly, and his father swallowed hard, tense.

"Yes."

"Is what you are doing... a sin?" He asked in a trembling voice, his father throwing him a quick, surprised look.

"No. Not when it takes place between husband and wife. It's… you cannot be closer to another human being than during this act. Me and your mother want to be as close as possible and we derive pleasure from it."

They both remained in an uncomfortable silence for a moment.

He felt that this was his chance, an opportunity to ask his father about all the things he had been unable to comprehend and had never had the courage to bring up in his presence.

"Why do you call my mother Rhaenys? After all, that is not her real name, is it?" He asked, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

His father swallowed hard, staring dully ahead, thoughtful.

"For me, it is."

"Don't you like her real name?" He continued, trying hard to get anything out of him.

"She always said she wanted to be like Rhaenys, the younger sister and also one of Aegon the Conqueror's two wives. She called herself that to frustrate me, because I always said I would rather one day have a woman like Visenya as my betrothed. She used to call herself that in the letters she sent to me."

"Letters? My mother sent you letters?" He asked, surprised, hearing about it for the first time.

His father fell silent for a long moment.

"Yes. More than fifty over eight years. I never wrote her back to any of them."

He blinked, looking at him in disbelief, feeling his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Why? Didn't you love her back then?"

There was a kind of sadness, weariness and regret on his father's face that he saw for the first time in his life.

"Quite the opposite."

"Then why? She must have been so sad."

"She was."

He lowered his gaze, thinking with despondency that his father's mind was indeed beyond comprehension.

"When she appeared after eight years in the Red Keep, I asked her if she still wanted to marry me. And she, despite everything, still wanted to. Your mother always showed me more understanding than I deserved." He stated finally.

He nodded at his words.

"How did you know for certain that she would become your wife?" He asked uncertainly, playing with his fingers in a reflex he inherited from him. His father lowered his head, thoughtful.

"Your grandfather the King betrothed us when we were still small children." He replied.

"When you betroth me, will I also be that close to my wife?" He continued, and his father nodded.

"Yes. You will beget your offspring together and prolong your lineage." His father said.

"Will I also feel pleasure from her closeness as you feel it with my mother?" He asked uncertainly. His father pressed his lips together and scratched his chin, tense.

"I don't know."

His answer sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"I want to have a wife like you, Father. I want to love her." He whispered, thinking about Alyssa, about what he felt when he heard her light laughter, when saw her smile full of warmth and sympathy.

She was full of understanding and joy, always eager to listen to him and his, in his mind very adult, problems and musings.

It seemed to him that his father's breath had become louder, but he didn't dare look at him.

"I can't promise you that."

He squeezed his eyes shut at his words, unable to stand it any longer, warm, burning tears running down his face. He felt like a little child, but there was nothing he could do about it, because he was suffering.

"How am I going to be a King without a Queen to worship and love? How will I make you proud if I feel lonely and weak next to her? I want to be able to love someone just like you. I don't want to be alone all my life like I am now."

"You are not alone."

"I am alone. For you, I am only the effect of your pleasure and the relief of the Kingdom. You love only my mother. You see only her. You trust only her. You look only at her."

"That is not true. I watch over you even though you don't realise it. I am trying to make you strong so that the crown, when it is finally placed on your head, will not crush you. You are my first-born son. We have awaited your birth like a miracle." His father said. He shuddered when he felt his hand on his head, and then his strong arm drew him close, letting him cry into his chest.

He stroked his hair and his back the way his mother always did, feeling him place his forehead on the top of his head.

"I love you, but I cannot be weak in front of the court. You will understand me when you become king and father yourself." He said, and he nodded, snuggling into him tighter, his strong arms giving him the feeling that he was safe, that nothing threatened him.

"– my son –" He said in a way from which he felt warmth in his heart, pride and acceptance, the closeness of a man who in his eyes was closer to gods than men.

"I will not fail you, Father."

Rhaenys 

Between looking after her first-born son and bearing her husband another child, she had to focus on helping him create the Small Council from scratch. According to her mother's will, they were both to be equal rulers as regents, and her uncle did not give the impression of being humiliated by this fact.

On the contrary, he relied on her advice and opinion more than she expected.

"Daemon cannot become the Hand of The King. He is too unpredictable. We need someone who is calm and composed. Putting your mother or my brother in that position could lead to further divisions, which we don't want. The person who takes over this role should be as neutral as possible." He said, pacing around the room, immersed in his thoughts. She sighed heavily, stroking her slightly rounded belly, inside of which her second son, Aegon, was growing slowly.

He knew he was made for long disputes about the role and amount of taxes, armies, harvests and all the needs of the kingdom, analysing it for hours on end, however diplomacy was not his domain and in this aspect he left a wide berth to her.

"The Queen Who Never Was. She will take neither side. Let her husband remain the Master of Ships. Let Daemon be, as he was in your father's reign, the Master of Laws – a sign of our respect for tradition, a tribute to King Viserys, who betrothed us. Let Borros Baratheon have his place according to your agreement so that he does not undermine our marriage. He is a stern and honourable man, so let him take charge of our treasury and become the Master of Coin. Let my mother and your brother be honorary members of the Small Council, without function, of equal position."

She said, spreading out comfortably in her chair. Her husband hummed under his breath and nodded, as if he recognised that, indeed, what she was saying was logical. He stopped in half a step, looking blankly at her abdomen.

"Pillows." He muttered more to himself than to her, as if he had realised something.

She raised herself up on her elbows and blinked as he took some from their bed and walked over to her, sliding them under her back for her comfort. She smiled involuntarily at his subconscious concern.

"I am grateful to you, husband."

"My mother insists that Criston Cole remain a member of the Kingsguard, but only as her sworn protector. I have decided that Ser Harrold Westerling should be reappointed Lord Commander in his place." He said, running his fingers over her lower abdomen, swollen from his legacy.

She nodded her head at his words.

"Yes. Ser Harrold is a man of honour."

They looked at each other for a moment, somehow surprised at the ease with which they had come to discuss this.

The prospect of building the Kingdom anew and the perspective of argument and tension frightened them, they were, however, closer to each other than ever.

With the birth of her third son, Daeron, the entire Red Keep breathed a sigh of relief, resolving the last remaining tensions between the Black and Green factions.

Her son refused to leave her womb for a long time, tormenting her for hours, but finally, with the help of Alys, who had come from Dragonstone especially to accompany her through this ordeal, her dark-haired son, came into the world.

The entire court rejoiced in the thought that their three sons secured the line of succession.

It seemed to her that the Red Keep was now divided into three parts: in one, the most representative, intended for the King and Queen, she resided with her husband and their three sons; in the second lived Daemon, her mother, their sons and Joffrey; in the third resided Alicent, Aegon, Helaena and their children.

The first meeting between Alicent and Rhaenyra after the pact was established in the Great Sept was full of tears. They locked themselves alone in one of the chambers to speak to each other about everything that had happened over the years.

The fact that Aegon had condemned his grandfather to death meant that both Daemon and Rhaenyra endured the presence of his family with understanding, however they each ate their suppers separately.

They, as part of the conflict to bring peace, also ate alone, accompanied by their little sons.

Viserys was a sweet and curious child – as soon as he began to speak, he immediately began to demand that his favourite books with large, colourful illustrations depicting great dragons and kings be constantly read to him.

Aegon, however, was a stubborn and expressive: he voiced his opinions and displeasure loudly, knowing, however, where the limit of her and his father's patience lay.

Daeron, on the other hand, was a smiling and joyful infant, laughing loudly whenever he saw the faces of his brothers above the cradle tickling his belly with their fingers.

"He makes such funny sounds out of himself. Like a little puppy." Aegon said.

Their life was happy and peaceful, and she felt that she could finally breathe and have a little rest from the hardships of carrying a child.

And then, a few months after that very difficult delivery, she fainted in the throne room, losing control of her body, falling numbly to the ground.

When she awoke, she immediately smelled his familiar scent, his broad hand stroking her head.

She lifted her eyelids and saw that he lay beside her without his eye patch, his hair loose, only his shirt and breeches on his body. He was lying next to her on his side, his other hand holding a book lying on the bed between them, absorbed in his reading.

He shuddered and looked up at her as she touched his chest.

"– Rhaenys –" He whispered, closing the book, placing a warm, lingering kiss on her forehead.

"– how are you feeling? – you fainted –"

"I know. I think it's the weather. It's been so hot today, my head has been spinning since this morning." She whispered, smiling warmly at him, wanting to comfort him with the thought that it was nothing too severe.

The look on his face and the way he swallowed loudly made her feel uneasy.

"That's not what made you feel this way, my love. It's…" He began, but fell silent, pressing his lips together. She realised after a moment what he meant, a shiver of fear and discomfort ran along her spine.

"So soon?" She mumbled, her eyebrows arching in disbelief. Her husband lowered his gaze, heartbroken.

"Yes. Forgive me." He muttered. She clamped her lips together as he covered his face with his hand and drew in air loudly, as if trying not to cry. "I knew you endured it badly this time. I knew it, but I didn't think it would happen so soon."

"I know. I know." She said, pulling his head towards her, allowing him, as he always did when he was scared and tired, to snuggle his face between her breasts and take solace in the embrace of her arms.

She could hear his loud, broken breath, could hear him sniff with his nose, his broad hands clenched on the material of her nightgown at her back, seeking comfort.

"– Rhaenys –"

Although by the next day her sadness and fear had vanished, replaced by joyful anticipation of what their next child would be like, her husband still remained withdrawn and thoughtful, clearly feeling remorseful towards himself.

His openness in her presence resulting from their bond and understanding remained only in the sphere of their marriage: in her husband's eyes, she was a person whose behaviour and needs he understood perfectly, with whom he knew how to speak, around whom putting his thoughts into words came easily.

Having witnessed daily his directness and lightness in conversation at her side, the change that occurred in him was all the more striking when anyone else joined their company: his mother, his brother, some lord or even their own son.

Her uncle was deeply affected by what a heavy burden and responsibility Viserys had to carry on his shoulders. He saw himself in him: quiet and withdrawn, filled, however, with her empathy and sensibility, making him more thoughtful and sensitive to someone else's hurt.

Her husband feared that the crown and what it carried with it would crush him: he did not know how to strengthen him, make him a man without breaking his spirit.

He feared nothing more than that he would become like his father: insensitive, blind to his real needs, to his cries for help that his son could not articulate.

How similar they were didn't help them communicate: her uncle cut his discomfort with harsh, short sentences, while Viserys shut himself away, terrified of his coldness.

"He is afraid of me. I can see it in his eyes." He told her one day, undoing the buckles of his tunic, wanting to lie beside her in their bed. She looked at him with worry, stroking her rounded abdomen and swallowed quietly, lowering her gaze.

Father does not love me.

"I fear that he sees himself in your eyes as a disappointment. He cannot understand the source of your harshness and distance, which I know is due to nothing other than your fatherly concern. Nevertheless, he needs to hear a few warm words from you for once in his life." She said pleadingly, looking at him as he lay down beside her, sighing heavily. He shrugged his shoulders, pulling the eye patch off his head, throwing it carelessly somewhere on the floor, frustrated.

"What should I tell him? That I'm proud of him? That he will always be my son? He shouldn't be king if he's such a fool as not to understand that without my affectionate words." He said dryly, a clear discomfort and pain in his words, his jaw clenched in a rage whose reason she did not understand.

She stared at him dully for a moment, stunned.

"Can you hear yourself, uncle?" She asked at last, and he looked at her with a sharp, warning look that told her to be careful of her next words.

"He craves your appreciation like a thirsty person craves water. But not only that. You are his father, and he does not know you, does not comprehend your person, your behaviour."

"Good. Does he need to understand everything? It's for his own sake."

"In your mind it's easy because you know what drives you. From his perspective, you are a cold, raw stone. He told me today that you don't love him. That you don't love any of your children. That you love only me. You don't even know how much those words hurt me and I know they hurt you too, but gods, he is your firstborn son. Have an honest conversation with him. Do you think he will ever come to you for advice or support when he feels weak? He will be ashamed, he will fear your wrath and he will drown in his own despair." She said in pain, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

Her husband looked at her with clenched lips and she noticed in disbelief that his gaze was exactly the same as hers.

He wanted to cry because of what he had heard.

She pressed her forehead to his cheek, placing her hand on the place beneath where his heart was beating, and he stroked her arm with his fingers, swallowing hard.

"What he said tonight, during supper. When he suggested that you should rest. He hurt me with those words. I felt like my own son was rebuking me. As if I were a bad husband and father." He whispered in shame – she shook her head, placing a warm, moist kiss on his cheek.

She felt him twist his face, sinking his nose into her hair, his hand hugging her waist and drawing her closer to his body in a natural need for closeness.

"He doesn't understand it. He only sees my tiredness during the hot days, the pain in my back, hears my screams when I bring his siblings into the world. He doesn't know what happens when we're here, alone, or the reason for it. Just as we didn't know it when you told me you wished to have seven children, just as there are seven gods."

Her husband accepted her words in his heart, and she hoped that with this, he and their son would finally speak honestly with each other.

Apart from that, there was one more thing that was occupying her mind – his Name Day.

Her husband did not like to celebrate this day because of unpleasant memories from the past and she wanted to change that at last. She knew that he despised pompous, grand feasts and dances, so she had no intention of giving him a surprise that would make him unhappy.

She did, however, want to give him something completely different.

A written and lavishly illustrated book on the history of Aegon the Conqueror and his two wives in one gigantic volume, bound in red dyed leather decorated with gold, made especially at her request.

She wanted to give him something that would delight and move him at the same time, ordering the scribe to put a quote on the first page from the philosopher and poet, Areon, whose book she had borrowed from him that day when she kissed him for the first time.

Turn behind me, companion

see if I am at your side

The darkness frightens me

but you are like a torch

with your light I will not die

In order for the surprise to remain a surprise, the request could not pass directly through her hands, hence she asked one of the guards for help, which, however, proved to be a big mistake on her part.

She thought at first that the man's open and eager approach was due to his friendly, warm nature. He agreed to help her and reported to her what stage the work was at, assuring her that the book would be done on time.

The first worrying signs began to reach her consciousness when she noticed that Ser Brandon was looking at her while he was guarding the chamber during the Small Council meetings in a way that made her uncomfortable.

She feared that he had perceived her proposal in an ambiguous manner thinking that it was merely an excuse to get close to him.

To her horror, his surreptitious, shameless glances were noticed by her husband.

"– are you fucking him? –" Her uncle asked as soon as they crossed the threshold of their chamber, grasping her cheeks in his fingers warningly, his eye wide in rage, making cold sweat run down her spine.

"– n-no – never – I –" She mumbled, feeling that her heart was pounding like mad – she moaned, surprised, as his swollen, wet lips pressed against hers in a hot, aggressive kiss.

"– I'll kill you if you lie –" Her growled into her mouth, his slick, moist tongue forcing its way again and again down her throat with quick, impatient, furious clicks as he made her retreat towards their bed with every step.

"– I swear, husband –" She exhaled wearily and squealed as he pushed her onto the bed, making her fall onto her back. He stared at her as if completely mad, breathing heavily, undoing the buckles of his tunic with aggressive swipes of his hand.

"– undress –" He hissed furiously, throwing the material of his garment to the floor, pulling his shirt off his chest, ripping his eye patch from his face a moment later. She nodded her head quickly, feeling her heart in her throat as he climbed onto the bed, placing his knees on either side of her body.

Whenever he was terrified he spoke in this dramatic way, as if he wanted to show her that her betrayal would be the end of his and her life.

She couldn't help how much it aroused her, his desperation and how much he needed her, his feigned aggression only for her to soothe him, for her body to reassure him that he was wrong.

She tried to untie the bonds of her gown as quickly as she could, however, it was not easy – her husband paid no attention to the delicate knots at her sleeves and literally ripped the fabric off her in a gesture that was more animal than human.

"– uncle –" She whimpered pleadingly as his hot, swollen lips pressed into hers again with his loud groan of pleasure and rage, her hand sliding lower to the material of his breeches, finding his hard, throbbing erection beneath them at last.

"– fuck – spread your thighs wide – that's it –" He breathed out, and she obeyed his command without a word, watching with excitement as the black leather material slid down his legs, leaving him wonderfully naked, just like her.

She cried out loudly, clasping her hands over his bare buttocks and back as he immediately stretched her swollen opening on the fat head of his erection, a low, helpless sigh escaping from their throats.

"– A-Aemond – mghmm –" She cried out, trying hard to fit in what he was forcing her to take, his manhood pulsing all over deep inside her, betraying how close he was to fulfilment, how aroused he was by what had just happened between them.

She, at his mercy.

She began to moan when he immediately imposed a fast, sharp, aggressive pace on her, his hips rolling to the rhythm of her body, thrusting again and again deep between her warm, leaking folds, despite the initial difficulty welcoming him with ease.

They both lost their temper, falling into a complete frenzy, their naked, sticky bodies slamming against each other with loud splats of their shared moisture.

"– do you like the way he looks at you? – hm? – do you think I don't see him following you with his gaze? – dreaming that it is his child that you are carrying inside you? –" He hissed through clenched teeth, gripping her cheeks again with his fingers, the thrusts of his hips teasing again and again the little bud inside her made it difficult for her to gather her thoughts: she was only able to look at his face, his lips parted in lust, his gaze filled with rage and love at the same time.

"– n-no – no, uncle –" She mumbled out with difficulty, her breath heavy as her fingers tightened on his naked, sweaty shoulders, her puffy nipples rubbing against the skin of his chest with his every thrust making the tension in her lower abdomen slowly reach its peak.

"– no? – maybe I should gouge his eyes out? – if he doesn't know he's a fool, that he has no fucking right to desire you –" He growled, pressing his forehead against hers, panting into her mouth, their hips coming up to meet each other in a desperate attempt to achieve fulfilment, her hands clamped down on his buttocks, again and again guiding his soaked, fat erection deep inside her.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She cried out, tilting her head back, feeling a sudden wave of hot, tickling pleasure and relief surge through her nipples, through her lips, the tips of her fingers and her little cunt, which began to squeeze him greedily, her legs crossed over his back, refusing to let him pull away.

Her husband let out a low, helpless, almost animalistic groan and reached his peak inside her, filling her silky insides, clenching around his twitching manhood, with his seed. He fell on top of her after a moment without strength, his hand stroking her cheek hot with emotion.

"– it's not your fault – he's been watching you for weeks –" He whispered, placing tender, gentle, moist kisses on her face.

"– I swear to you that he is already… –" He sighed and froze suddenly, his body tensed in her embrace.

"– hm? –" She asked sleepily, struggling to open her eyes, trying to calm herself down after what she had just experienced.

"– fuck – Viserys –" He muttered horrified, pulling out of her quickly and grabbing his breeches, putting them on his legs.

"– what? –" She asked, rising up on her elbows, not understanding what had frightened him so suddenly, only noticing after a moment that the door to their chamber was slightly ajar.

"– has he seen us? Aemond, don't do anything foolish, don't shout at him! –" She called after him in despair as he put on his shirt in a careless, quick motion and left their chamber, closing the door behind him. She pulled her nightgown over herself, stroking her swollen abdomen with her hand, thinking about what to do.

After many minutes that felt like an eternity she became impatient, scared and tired, wondering why it had taken so long, whether she should go there and react.

She jumped up in her seat, feeling her heart in her throat when finally her uncle returned to their chamber, pale, his eye wide open. He cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed.

"We were just having a conversation. Like father and son." He assured her, seeing the look on her face as he headed towards their bed, laying down powerlessly on the sheets.

She immediately moved towards him, laying down beside him, pressing her forehead against his exactly as she had when they were children.

Her husband rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.

"You were right. It helped. He opened up to me and I opened up to him. I feel lighter." He whispered quietly, as if he was telling her his embarrassing little secret.

She smiled involuntarily at his words, placing her hand on his back.

"I'm so happy."

Her uncle hummed at her words, a gleam in his eye that she knew all too well.

"I also paid a short visit to the guard who finds it so pleasant to look at my wife. We discussed this… matter properly." He murmured, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear, causing a cold, wonderful shiver to pass through her.

"It turns out he's very attached to his two eyes."

[trexiejan]

Some Toxic Dickbabs moments that happened in canon. (LONG POST)

so i saw a dickbabs shipper talking crap about dickkory saying they're the most toxic nightwing ship? and they also claim dickbabs is the most healthiest ? it's ironic considering I've seen many dickbabs comic panels where dickbabs is being toxic towards each other plenty of times in the canon comics. Looks like Tom Taylor wants to brainwash people and make them believe that Dickbabs is such a perfect healthy loving couple since day 1, when that hasn't been true at all before he was put in charge of the nightwing comics to write dickbabs wattpad fanfiction in the book every single issue, this ship has done nothing but damage both characters even in tom taylor's run Dick is turned into a happy go lucky himbo who is incapable of accomplishing anything on his own without being monitored and babysat by barbara 24/7.

Anyways let's proceed with dickbabs history of being a toxic couple.

Remember those times where Barbara physically and verbally assaulted him when he was only trying to be nice and polite. She yelled at him, called him stupid, a crybaby and beat him up.

Also they keep calling Kory a victim blamer for something that happened once in over 30 years ago but ignore the fact that Babs has victim blamed him and slutshamed him multiple times in the modern comics when he was sexually assaulted and raped by Tarantula and when he got shot in the head by the Joker.

Dick just got raped by Tarantula and was traumatized by what happened but instead of comforting Dick, she has the nerve to mockingly say Dick likes his rapist. her jealousy always clouds her judgement.

I'm sorry But Barbara is canonically a victim blamer and a slutshamer. Don't forget how she also insults and slutshames other women like Helena when she gets jealous of the other women in Dick's life. She called dickhelena a cheap one nightstand even though Dick clearly told Helena he doesn't do casual sex and and she mocked Kory and refused to help her on a mission when her people were dying.

so yeah let's get back to her history with victim blaming Dick. She victim blamed him again after he got shot in the head and had an amnesia and when his memories was restored, she lashed out at him for forgetting about her when he had an amnesia.

And remember that time when Bludhaven was burned down and Dick lost his apartment, he came to Barbara to ask if he can stay at her place but she kicked him out of her apartment the next day. She's totally fine with him being homeless but dickbabs shippers claim babs has always been very loving and supportive towards him while calling Kory a slut.

Even in elseworld stuff she treats him like garbage. Aside from cheating on Dick with Batman and getting pregnant with Batman's baby in the BTAS universe, she's also very emotionally abusive to him in comics where dickbabs shippers brag about them having a kid in it like in whiteknight.

Barbara was always out there acting like a toxic judgemental domineering bitch in the modern canon comics, Barbara behaved like this consistently for more than 30 years but Kory is the one we should crucify over something that she did only once from 30 years ago 🙄 Did they crucify Barbara too when she was ableist to Cass and called her stupid because she can't read.

And they call Kory a sexual assaulter? Because she kissed him when they first met. Did they forgot that Kory was an alien, she was clueless about Earth laws when she first came to earth, she didn't know that you're actually not supposed to kiss someone without their consent, she had no clue that it was considered inappropriate and she kissed him not to sexually assault him but for her to learn english. Her people can learn other languages through kissing and Kory didn't learn anything about Human law until she officially joined the teen titans, so you can actually excuse her for her behavior what's not excusable is Barbara who was a human being who studied law for years, but still has the nerve to commit a sexual crime. As always, She violated Dick's personal privacy, she put camera on his apartment so she can enjoy watching him naked without his consent. Look it up on google the crime is called voyeurism. Barbara would considered a creepy criminal by human law. I'm not surprised considering I always think of her as a type of gf who has no respect for her partner's personal space especially when she's Oracle, She never respected Dick's privacy even in tom taylor's run, she keeps monitoring his every move in her computer, she always invades his personal space. Dick is trapped in this relationship. It's not a good relationship if you constantly watch your partner's every move and if you keep following your partner around like a dog wherever he goes.

Many people think Dickbabs is such a healthy because of Tom Taylor's run. I think for someone who is a huge dickbabs shipper like tom taylor it's expected he's gonna try to convince people to believe that to to sell his favorite ship but in reality even in Tom Taylor's run Dickbabs relationship is pretty toxic and forced. It's toxic when your partner doesn't respect your privacy, when your partner constantly stalks and keeps an eye on you on every single thing that you do, when you wanna talk to other people but she's there lurking in her computer listening to your conversations with other people, when she puts a camera on your mask so she can always see what you see and hear what you hear, as if you're not a real human being who needs your own privacy, and constantly follows you around like a dog, like Barbara does to him every single issue. It really is a sign of an abusive relationship when there is no respect. How is Tom Taylor's Nightwing good when the book keeps destroying Dick's independece by having Barbara stuck to him like a leech 24/7 . The book is called Nightwing but Tom Taylor turned it into a Nightwing and Batgirl fanfiction series where 90% of the time Dick hasn't done anything on his own and where his IQ is chopped off in half to prop up Barbara as the smarter woman in their relationship. Dick can't even handle his own missions without constantly being babysat by Barbara in her computer like a sidekick who needs to be watched 24/7.

Poor Dick he became Nightwing to stop being Batman's sidekick and be independent only for Barbara to take away his independence and treat him like a sidekick again. Dickbabs has always been a toxic ship in any kind of form.

and don't forget Tom Taylor himself is a toxic misogynist slutshamer. He keeps throwing shade on Kory on twitter by liking comments that slutshame her on twitter

You know what would be the best way to fix dickbabs? is by letting them move on from each other! Let them grow tf up and move forward in life outside this relationship.

Babs is an anchor that brings him down whenever she's too involved in his life and same with Babs because do dickbabs shippers even care about Barbara. I haven't seen any barbara fan complain about barbara not doing anything on her own other than chasing dick around like a dog in his comicbook every single issue.

[ipseitydelrey]

headcanons: dating spencer reid ♡

(i’m so totally normal about this man)

ship spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings mentions of schizophrenia & alzheimer’s

a/n thought this would be a good first post! interaction would be appreciated, but your readership would be enough! enjoy~

★ he regularly gives you books he has read, completed with small annotations.

★ to go with the previous headcanon, you would give him more modern books you enjoy as opposed to the classical/foreign ones he gifts.

★ expect for your first couple of dates to be more awkward (he has definitely asked derek for advice on more than one occasion).

★ he makes it a point to learn all that he can about whatever you like at the moment, even if he himself isn't into it/doesn't understand the appeal. it's mostly just so he can connect with you more and to share fun facts about your interests.

★ he's awful at cooking, but once or twice, he has definitely attempted to cook a homemade meal for you two as a romantic gesture. you both decided that what he made wasn't edible, but you appreciated the attempt and ordered takeout instead.

★ weekly bookstore visits! half of the time you would go to barnes & noble for your literary needs, but you two also enjoy supporting local bookstores (+ they tend to have rare books too).

★ when you two are cuddling, he loves it when you run your fingers through his hair and give him a head massage; it really helps with his migraines.

★ convention is in town? best believe that you two are wearing matching cosplays, especially if the characters you're dressing up as is canonically a couple.

★ spencer doesn't just ask derek; he also asks penelope and jj for advice too.

★ on the first couple of dates he generally avoided touching, but now? he can't get enough of you, how warm you are and how soft your hands are.

★ much like how he tends to go on a tangent, he loves it and listens intently whenever you infodump about a topic you're interested in.

★ antique stores! you both find the atmosphere lovely and you would get gifts for each other there.

★ his love language is praise, both giving and receiving. he wants to make sure you feel loved and wanted. even when it's something small, like getting him coffee for example, he'll go on and on about how wonderful you are, how good you are to him and how much he loves and adores you.

★ on the receiving end, he'll absolutely melt if you give him reassurance that you reciprocate his love. and if you hold him — cup his cheeks or wrap your arms around his waist — while whispering praises? as emily said, IQ of 187 slashed down to 60.

★ the first time he said "i love you" was sort of an accident. he had just come back from a case and he was so tired that he collapsed into your arms and you had to drag him to bed. you were making sure he was comfortable and in his delirious state he mumbled "love you" in the sleepiest voice imaginable.

★ movie nights! whenever it's his turn, he either picks some pretentious, foreign language, criterion collection, 3+ hour film...or he just puts on reruns of star trek or doctor who.

★ when you moved in with him, you both had to buy another bookshelf. both because of the books strewn around spencer's apartment that were unable to be shelved due to overcrowding, and to fit your books there too.

★ he's super worried about doing something wrong. this is probably his first actual serious relationship, so he's being extra cautious to not accidentally insult or hurt you. over time, he learns to relax around you but the worry is still there, just in small doses.

★ he doesn't really like PDA, but he makes up for the lack of it with tons of hugs, kisses, and close contact in private (specifically at home, but anywhere private will do).

★ whenever you two go out and you want to wear formal attire, he'll help you with putting it on! he'll zip up your dress, help tie your tie, fasten your necklace, maybe help with cuff links. he absolutely loves being able to assist you with anything, no matter how small.

★ he was definitely worried when he brought you to go meet his mom for the first time, so he made sure to pick a day where she would be in one of her good moods and also told you everything he knows about schizophrenia and alzheimer's. he was thankfully relieved when his mom liked you and vice versa.

★ a bit corny, but he loves reciting love poems to you. this can also extend to passages from books that discuss romantic love; he has an eidetic memory after all and he's going to put it to good use!

[st-eve-barnes]

Easy on you

(Modern Aegon x Fem Reader)

Summary: Hiding from the party downstairs you and Aegon end up in the same room together, sharing some drinks and secrets, and feelings.

Warning: 18+ for smut. Teasing, dry humping, oral sex (female receiving), explicit language, the whole works. Also fluff, love confessions and Aegon being an insecure slut.

Word count: +5800

I've been a little obsessed with Tom Glynn-Carney lately so you guys get some more Modern Aegon ;) (As always please forget about his issues in canon, this is my version and consent is a big deal to this Aegon)

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

The Targaryen villa was so immense one could easily get lost in its abundance of different rooms, stairways and halls. You were pretty sure you had walked this exact same hallway just a few minutes ago. They all looked alike and you’d been walking around for a while now without running into another living soul.

You hadn’t meant to go this far, you just wanted to flee the family gathering downstairs but once you’d started going up the stairs you had just kept going without looking back.

Anything to avoid seeing them.

You sighed in relief when you finally found some light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. The room at the end of the hallway had its door ajar and a ray of light came peaking through.

You knocked a few times and waited, when there was no answer you carefully pushed the door open, finding the room inside empty.

It seemed to be some kind of guest or entertainment room, there was a large made up bed and some sofas but you didn’t see any personal stuff anywhere. There was a fridge in the corner and a bar filled with drinks. The light was on which meant someone must have been here not so long ago and maybe you just missed them.

Just as you were about to leave again the other door in the room opened and you were no longer alone. You stood face to face with Aegon, who walked in with a drink in his hand and a surprised look on his face.

“Well, hello. How did you get up here?”

“I got lost,” you explained,”Is this your room?”

“It is tonight,” he smiled and let himself fall down onto the sofa, plopping his feet down on the coffee table,”This was meant to be a guest room but it’s so far up in the east wing I think the rest of the family forgot it exists.”

His eyes rested on yours for a minute, taking you in and trying to read your expression. You looked tense and more nervous than usual. “What are you doing all the way up here, Y/N?” he then asked again.

“I told you, I got lost,” you avoided answering his question.

”Must have been walking for a while then,” he remarked.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Want me to direct you back to the party?”

“Fuck no.”

The words left your mouth without even thinking and you bit your lip but Aegon just smiled.“You were trying to get out, weren’t you?”

“Not out, just…looking for a spot to hide out for a while,” you confessed.

“Well, you found it. You…um…wanna grab a beer or something?” he pointed towards the fridge and you gladly took him up on his offer.

If you had to run into anyone from the Targaryen family you were glad it was Aegon.

You and him had been friends for a while now, ever since your brother married Heleana and your family had started spending more time with the Targaryens. Heleana was a total sweetheart and Aegon had always been the most welcoming of the entire bunch.

To be honest those two were the only ones you could stand, the rest of that family scared the shit out of you.

For some reason you always felt at ease with Aegon. maybe it was because he never seemed to feel comfortable around his own family either. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that he was also fleeing the festivities tonight.

You let yourself sink down on the couch next to him and took a sip from your beer.”So who are you hiding from?”

He let out a laugh and shook his head,”Who am I not hiding from?”

You kept your eyes on him waiting for an answer but he didn’t elaborate.

“Okay, so you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine,” you teased.

He bumped your leg with his,“You first.”

You sighed but when your eyes met his you caved quickly. You’re not sure what it was about Aegon but he always had a way of making you feel you could tell him anything and he would never judge you for it.

“My mum,” you confessed,”And Viserys.”

“What’s Viserys done?”

“Nothing,” you sighed,”It’s just…my mum wants to set me up with someone from your family. Apparently she’s sooo happy with my brother’s new life she thinks it would be wonderful, for me, if I were to marry rich as well.”

Aegon rolled his eyes and took another sip from his beer, trying his best to sound casual with his next question,”So…who’s the lucky Targaryen?”

You sighed deeply,“Aemond.”

“Oh no, poor you.”

“Shut up,” you hit his leg, making him laugh.

“No but…I mean, Aemond’s not so bad,” he then tried to reassure you but you quickly shook your head.

“I don’t even know him, Aegon, it’s not…it’s just not how I imagined things.”

“Then say no, it’s your life, they don’t get to decide how you should live it.”

“I know,” you pulled your legs up underneath you on the couch and turned on your side, facing Aegon,”and my mum said it’s totally my choice and she’ll never push me into it but…I just…don’t know how to disappoint my family.”

Aegon snorted at that,”Want some tips? According to Viserys being the family disappointment is one of the only things I absolutely excel in.”

You smiled but gave him a more serious look then,”Viserys is an idiot. But I mean, it’s not like I don’t understand why my mum wants it, you know, financial security and all that.”

“Money doesn’t solve all your problems or buys you happiness.”

“Only someone who has it would say that.”

Aegon sighed and ran his hand through his hair,”Shit, you’re right. That was such a rich kid’s response, wasn’t it?”

You nodded,”I know what you mean though, having money comes with its own problems and responsibilities but it’s infinitely better than not having it.”

“But your family is doing okay now, yeah?”

“We’re okay, yes but I know where mum is coming from. I just didn’t feel like having that conversation about my future tonight.”

“Yeah, I totally get that.”

“So who are you really hiding from?”

He sighed and closed his eyes while he confessed,”Viserys. Of course, who else?”

“Why?”

“Because…he wants me to work in the family’s company and…I’d rather fucking die.”

“He can’t force you, can he?”

“He can disown me if he wants.”

“Would he do that?”

“I don’t know. And part of me wants to say I don’t give a fuck but…”

You smiled,“You’re used to your little life of luxury.”

“Yeah,” Aegon admitted,”Does that make me weak? It makes me weak, doesn’t it?”

“No, of course not. But, it’s like you said, money’s not gonna solve all your problems.”

He leaned back into the couch,”Yeah, maybe not.”

“What would you do? If you could have any job in the world?”

“Just get paid to play with my band.”

“Are you guys any good?”

His eyes lit up and he gave you a sweet smile,”You should come see us some time and judge for yourself.”

“Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Okay,” he nodded and finished his beer,”Want another one?”

“Sure.”

“Think it’s safe to say neither of us wants to go back downstairs anytime soon.”

He took two more bottles from the fridge and gave you one before sitting down on the floor in front of the couch. You moved down to join him.

“What are we gonna do to pass the time up here?” you asked.

“Well, I could think of a few things we could do,” Aegon teased while giving you a flirty look and motioning towards the beds.

You hit him on his leg,”Don’t be gross.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he avoided your eyes for a moment but couldn’t hide the smile on his face. 

It wasn’t the first time Aegon flirted with you. It seemed to come second nature to him, you never thought much of it. It was always playful and friendly and you knew it was just his way of communicating sometimes.

“Let me guess, there’s no Netflix up here or anything is there?” you asked.

“Nope,” he shook his head,”I doubt there’s even wifi up here. It’s just us. Sorry to disappoint.”

His eyes met yours again and you shook your head,”You don’t disappoint, Aegs, you’re the only Targaryen I’d ever want to be alone in a room with.”

“I still don’t know if that counts as a compliment,” his lips curled up into a smile and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What about a drinking game?” he then suggested.

“You want to get me drunk, Aegon Targaryen?” you teased him.

“I want to get me drunk,” he joked,” but you can join if you want.”

That flirty look was back in his eyes but you chose to ignore it this time.

“I mean, we can also talk about our families and insecurities and struggles in life,” he then added.

“Drinking game it is,” you shut him up quickly, putting that satisfied grin back on his face.

He was up in an instant to grab a few glasses from the bar and something a little stronger than the beers you’d been drinking so far.

“Okay,” he settled back down on the floor in front of you, filling up the two glasses,”So, truth or dare?”

You laughed and shook your head,”Absolutely not.”

“What? Oh come on, why not?”

“Because every dare you will come up with is going to be something completely inappropriate.”

He stared at you in feigned shock but you just narrowed your eyes at him.

“I am offended you would think that,” he then reacted,”Also a little flattered that you know me so well.”

He gave you a big smile and you couldn’t help but join in, his laugh was so infectious you realized how easily he always made you feel better in his presence.

“Never have I ever?” you then suggested and you didn’t miss the sudden interest peaking in Aegon’s eyes.

“You sure about that one?” he asked carefully.

You suddenly felt exposed under his gaze and the game hadn’t even started yet.

”Not so much anymore now, no,” you confessed with a smile.

He laughed softly,”I’ll go easy on you, don’t worry.”

And he did, at least in the beginning of the game. It started off so innocent. 

Never have I ever cheated on an exam. Never have I ever skipped school and lied to my parents about it. Never have I ever binged an entire series in one day. Never have I ever been so drunk I blacked out.

It was only after a few laughs, drinks and harmless confessions that the game took another, more sexual, turn.

Both of you were pleasantly buzzed by then and without really paying attention to it you had both inched closer to each other, your knees almost touching now. 

“Never have I ever dated more than one person at the same time,” you stated.

Aegon snorted and took a sip while your mouth fell open.

“What?” he smiled,” I’m a slut, don’t act so shocked.”

You kept staring at him and just shook your head.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you shrugged,”Your turn.”

“Never have I ever faked an orgasm,” he stated with a smug grin on his face.

You rolled our eyes and took a sip.

“Why do all women do that?” he asked with genuine interest.

“I don’t know, probably because we’re taught from a very young age that we’re supposed to be good and supportive and men can do no wrong so if we can’t reach our peak that’s still a reflection of our faults and not theirs.”

This time it was Aegon’s turn to stare at you with his mouth open.

“Sorry, was that too much?” you asked.

He shook his head,”No, not at all. That was…very fair. And quite sad.”

“But then sometimes,” you added with a smile,” Sometimes the sex just isn’t good and you just fake it to get it over with and get away from them quicker, and the idiots can never tell.”

”See but that’s still sad, I would never leave my girl unsatisfied and I’d hope she would feel safe enough with me to just tell me if I need to try harder.”

You’re not sure why his words made you blush but you had to avoid his eyes for a moment.

“Of course that never happens,” he then added with a smug grin, making you burst out in laughter.

“It doesn't!" he protested.

“I’m sure it’s happened to you as well, Aegs, all women do it.”

“Not with me,” he insisted.

“Up to 80 percent of women fake it sometimes, do your math.”

He was still firmly shaking his head,”Not with me.”

You sighed,“Fine, I’ll take your word for it, casanova, shall we move on?”

He opened his mouth to protest again but you were faster.

“Never have I ever been caught masturbating,” you blurted out.

Aegon just laughed and forgot about his protest to have a drink.

“Really?” you asked.

He just nodded,“My mum has seen things that will scar her for life.”

“Oh my god, Aegon, ew!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you laughed and he joined you.”Next, please.”

“Never have I ever...slept with someone I was actually in love with,” he confessed, and you both suddenly stopped laughing.

“Never?” you asked,”Not even a little bit? Like a crush?”

He shook his head,”Nope.”

“That’s sad, Aegon.”

"No, it's not, come on, sex is a great thing, whether you're in love or not," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but it's better if you are."

“You say that but I noticed you didn’t drink either,” he pointed out.

“No, I…I guess we’re both sad,” you smiled weakly and looked down until Aegon bumped his knee against yours and gave you a warm smile.

“Okay, next,” he said,”No more depressing ones now.”

You smiled and nodded,”Okay, um…never have I ever fantasized about a friend.”

Aegon’s smile was soft before he lifted his glass up to his lips and took a sip. He didn’t say anything but quickly moved onto the next one.

“Never have I ever cheated on someone,” he confessed. You looked at each other for a moment, neither of you drinking.

”So at least you’re an honest slut,” you then joked and he laughed while looking into your eyes.

“Gee, thanks.”

You smiled.“Never have I ever had a one night stand.”

HIs eyes stayed on yours as he slowly drank from his glass and then filled it up again.

“You know,” he sighed,”I’m beginning to notice this game isn’t really fair.”

“I can’t help it that you’ve done everything,” you pointed out.

“I have not done everything, you’re just very…”

You pointed your finger at him, warning him to choose his next words carefully.

“Less experienced than I am,” he then added,”which is perfectly fine.”

He placed his hand on your knee and gave it a soft squeeze.

“Yes, it is perfectly fine,” you repeated.

“So why no one night stand though?” he asked,”Is it a principle thing or you just haven’t felt like it?”

“I haven’t met anyone that made me feel like I wanted to,” you explained.

He nodded,”That’s fair. I bet you’ve had plenty of offers though.”

Your eyes met his,”Why? Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re really fucking hot,” he confessed with a small grin and then took a quick sip from his drink, trying to hide the blush on his face.

You wanted to ignore his flirty comment like you always did but you couldn’t help but feel the effect of his words this time, making you feel a little lightheaded.

“You wanna stop playing the game?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head,”I think I have one more.”

Aegon moved a little closer to you and you were very aware of his hand still resting on your knee.”Go on then.”

You bit your lip and hesitated for a moment before speaking the next words softly,”Never have I ever kissed a friend.”

His stare was so intense it was making your head spin, both your drinks were untouched on the floor next to you, forgotten about now that Aegon seemed to only have eyes for you.

“Do you want to?” he then whispered.

Your eyes widened at his statement and he gave you a soft, sweet smile. Your mouth opened to speak but the words weren’t coming out.

His hand carefully moved up from your knee to your thigh, testing the waters, waiting for you to do something, anything, hit him again or yell at him and tell him to stop being gross. But you didn’t do any of those things, you just stared at him and he recognized that hunger in your eyes, it was a reflection of his own.

He pulled you a little closer to him until you were face to face and practically sitting in his lap. Then he moved his hand up to your face and gently cupped your neck, moving his thumb over your jaw and your cheek. 

You sighed into his touch.“We shouldn’t, Aegs.”

You could hear the words leaving your lips but your hands were clearly not on the same page, grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards you and Aegon was doing nothing to make things easier on you. He was licking his lips and looking at you with so much lust in his eyes you were sure your protest would crumble as soon as he touched you again.

When his gaze fell down to your lips you knew you lost the fight.

He gently nuzzled your cheek, his soft voice was like velvet against your skin,”If you don’t want this I’ll stop right now, just say the word and I’ll back off, okay?” 

Your mouth opened to speak but you had no words left for him, all you could feel and think was how badly you wanted him.

“Do you want to?” he asked again.

“Yes, I want to,” your answer finally came, putting a relieved smile on his face.

“Good girl,” he whispered, which did not help your situation at all.”I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Aegs,” you sighed and looked at him, letting yourself drown into his pretty blue eyes.

“Will you let me kiss you?” he asked, brushing your nose with his.

You nodded,”Please.”

He cupped your face with both hands, looking deep into your eyes before he slowly leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in the softest, sweetest lingering kiss. It was over too soon and only left you wanting more.

Aegon moved his hands down to your waist, pulling you further into his lap and then he was kissing you again. The kiss was still gentle but also filled with more purpose. He started out slowly, just moving his lips with yours. Then he carefully licked into your mouth, teasing your tongue with his, waiting for you to open up to him completely before deepening the kiss.

The room around you was spinning now, his lips were intoxicating and addictive and you never wanted them to leave your mouth ever again. His hands made their way underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, leaving a trail of goosebumps all over your skin. 

You pulled him closer to you, hands tangled in his hair while you kissed him back with the same fire, setting you both aflame. 

You had kissed a few guys in your short lifetime and some of them had been pretty good, but none of those kisses came even remotely close to the way Aegon Targaryen was kissing you right now. As if he was dying and you were breathing life into him.

When you softly whimpered into the kiss it encouraged him to pull you even closer, straddling his lap now and you both moaned quietly at the first contact of his cock against your center. Even through all the layers of clothing you could feel him.

You grinned into his kiss.

“What?” he whispered in between kisses.

“You’re hard.”

“Thanks for noticing, of course I’m hard,” he joked and then bit your lower lip, making you moan softly which made him bite a little harder,”You have any idea how long I’ve wanted you like this?”

You broke the kiss to look at him in surprise.

“You really had no idea, didn’t you?” he realized and he shook his head in disbelief,”And I thought I wasn’t being subtle at all, I flirt with you all the time.”

“You flirt with everyone all the time!” you pointed out.

He laughed softly,”Okay, yeah, fair point.”

“Do you wanna talk about this?” you asked.

He locked eyes with you again.”No, I don’t wanna talk,” he then spoke softly,”I want to make out with you some more.”

His hands moved up your back, pulling you closer again and taking your mouth in another needy, sloppy kiss. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back and involuntarily your hips moved against his, making him hiss into your mouth. He rocked back against you, letting you feel just how turned on he was.

He was breathing heavily in between kissing you and his hands were now on your ass, holding you down on his lap while you rocked yourself on his erection. Both of you seeking out the friction and feeling the need to be even closer.

“Gods, you feel so fucking good,” he whispered against your lips and then started kissing your jaw and your neck, sucking on your skin and tracing patterns with his tongue. 

He was driving you insane. You had always found Aegon to be easy on the eyes but that’s as far as it went. You had never looked at him this way before tonight, and now it was all you could think about.

You needed him like you needed air.

You pulled at his shirt and he was quick to help you pull it over his head. He didn’t waste any time and quickly did the same with you, leaving you in just your bra. He couldn’t look away and the pleading look in his eyes put a smile on your face.

“Can I?” he asked eagerly,”Please?”

You just nodded and watched as he nervously unclipped your bra and then gently pulled it down your shoulders, revealing your breasts to him.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

You couldn’t help but laugh,”They’re just tits, Aegs, I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of them.”

“I haven’t seen yours,” he answered in a soft whisper and before you could say anything else he was kissing down your neck and collarbone. And further down until he was gently sucking on your nipple, making your eyes close in a heavy sigh. His cock was twitching against your inner thigh, making you want him even more. 

You knew your panties were completely soaked by now and your pussy was throbbing so hard it was becoming entirely distracting.

“Aegon,” you moaned quietly and grabbed at the waistband of his pants, pulling them down a little,”I need to feel you.”

“I know, baby,” he teased, kissing his way back up to your neck, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered,”You want me to fuck you? Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up, hmm?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“You sure, baby?” he checked.

This time it was your turn to tease him and you looked into his eyes while you grabbed his hand and lowered it in between your legs,”Why don’t you put your hand down my panties and feel how sure I am?”

You watched him swallow hard, his fingers moving over your jeans, even through the thick fabric he could feel how soaked you were underneath.

“F-uck,” he breathed.

You moved out of his lap to push him down and pull down his pants and boxers, finally freeing his erection from its confined space. He let out a sigh of relief, quickly followed by the most obscene moan you had ever heard when you wrapped your hand around his length.

Your eyes locked with his while you leaned down.

“Wha…what are you doing?” his voice sounded wrecked all of a sudden and you'd barely even touched him.

The mischievous look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know and just before you were going to take him into your mouth he pushed you back.”No, no…you can’t do that…fuck, baby…please don’t…”

“You don’t want me to suck you off?” you asked surprised.

He was biting his lip and cursing himself. He had dreamt about this so many times, fantasized and jerked off to this so many times but he knew if you put your mouth on him right now this would all be over within seconds. 

And he didn’t want his first time with you to be in your mouth. He wanted to be buried so deep inside your tight heat with your entire body pressed up against him, swallowing your needy moans and watching your face as he made you cum.

”I want nothing more than for you to suck me off but…I,”he stuttered over his next words,”I’m so fucking close to blowing my load…I just…that’s not what I want right now…”

He was blushing, clearly embarrassed and you thought it was the cutest thing.

”Okay, so no sucking then,” you pouted at him for a second but then gave him a sweet smile and he couldn’t help but smile back at you. Then he grabbed you and pushed you back, off the floor and onto the couch. His fingers were making quick work of your jeans and you lifted yourself off the couch to help him take them off, your panties going along with them.

Aegon stayed on his knees on the floor, his eyes meeting yours while he settled between your legs.

“What are you doing?” you asked with a weak voice, knowing all too well what he was doing.

He didn’t say anything, just gave you a playful, flirty look before putting his mouth right above your knee. Soft open mouthed kisses trailed your inner thigh, each one making you squirm a little bit more as he kissed his way higher and higher. That first lap of his tongue over your folds made you want to cry out in pleasure and you bit your hand to stop yourself from screaming so loud the entire family downstairs would hear you.

Aegon’s hand reached for yours, giving you something to hold onto, his other hand was on your inner thigh, spreading you open for him while he nipped and sucked at your clit.

“Not…fair,” you breathed, fingers squeezing his hand painfully hard but you couldn’t feel a thing apart from his mouth, sending you to heaven one lick at a time.

When he started fucking you with his tongue, nose pushing up perfectly against your throbbing clit, you were done for. 

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered,”Please…oh god, Aegs, please…”

His thumb started circling your clit and the room around you seemed to fade away. You were falling deeper and deeper until there was nothing but bliss. Tears filled your eyes and your back arched off the couch in one of the most intense orgasms you ever experienced.

Aegon didn’t rush you afterwards, let you ride out every last wave of it, kissing your clit and licking every last drop you offered him. When you finally came down from your high you pulled him up on the couch with you and into your arms.

His lips found yours in a filthy, deep kiss that let you taste yourself all over his tongue. His hands moved up to your shoulders and he gently pushed you down on your back onto the couch, his mouth never leaving yours. His left hand moved down to your inner thigh, opening you up again while his lips latched onto your neck.

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he whimpered into your ear,”Tell me you want me to.”

His cock was heavy against your dripping center, begging to be allowed in but waiting for your consent, his leaking tip teasing your entrance.

“I want you to, god please, I want you to,” you were practically begging.

That was all the consent he needed and he slowly pushed himself inside.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he breathed in a shaky voice.

“Yeah, no shit,” you teased.

His lips curled up into a cheeky grin and he pressed his forehead against yours,”Wrap your arms around me, hold onto me, baby.”

You did as he asked, pulling him to you and locking eyes with his. You could have drowned in the ocean of blue staring back at you, his gaze was so unexpectedly soft and loving it was making your heart flutter and you both seemed to halt for a moment, just looking at each other.

Aegon was nervously biting his lip trying to hold himself back. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered,”You can let go.”

He moved his hips with a grunt, slowly fucking you into the couch. It didn’t take long for you to moan with him and set a pace that left you both breathless, chasing that much needed release.

“God, you feel so good,” Aegon’s whispered in between ragged breaths,”It’s totally…fucking unfair…how good you make me feel.”

All you could do was nod while biting your lip, his eyes were on you the entire time, not breaking eye contact once and it made the whole thing feel much more intimate. 

You knew Aegon’s reputation better than anyone, biggest slut in the city who didn’t do relationships only quick fucks, yet nothing about the way he was looking at you and touching you right now felt like a quick fuck, it felt like a whole lot more. 

Something you would have to think about and analyze later when he wasn’t a few seconds away from giving you another mind blowing orgasm.

“Aegs,” you moaned desperately.

“You close, baby?”

“Hmmm,” you breathed,”So close.”

His hand moved down between your legs to find your clit, giving you that last push you needed to fall apart completely and when you clenched around him he followed suit. His face buried into your neck, muffling his loud moans before he pulled out and spilled all over your thighs.

Desperate little whimpers against your shoulder when he came down from his high, clinging to you with all he had and then his lips were on yours again, kissing you so deep and slow you felt like you were falling again. 

When you broke the kiss to look at each other you both let out a deep breath that ended with you giggling and Aegon biting his lip and being unable to take his eyes off you.

“You good?” he asked.

You nodded,”Yeah, you?”

He nodded and placed a soft kiss on your cheek,”Can we stay like this for a while or…?”

“Or?”

He sighed,”I don’t…this is usually the part where the girl leaves.”

“Where she leaves or where you kick her out?”

“A bit of both, I guess,” he confessed and traced your jaw with his thumb.

“Do you want me to leave?” you leaned into his touch and looked up at him from under your lashes.

He quickly and firmly shook his head,”No, I…I want you to stay with me. I mean…if you want, it’s your choice.”

You smiled softly and leaned into him,”I’d love to stay. But I would like to get off of this couch first and get cleaned up.”

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded and was quick to help you sit up before disappearing behind the bar to find a wet towel.

You spent the rest of that night in bed with him, doing nothing but talk and sleep, and kiss a little in between. 

When the sun came up the next morning Aegon was back between your legs, waking you up with his tongue and his lips and sending you into another toe curling orgasm.

“You better be careful, Targaryen,” you warned him afterwards,”I could get used to this.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” he smiled while resting his head on your chest and looking up into your eyes.

“To get me to stay with you?” you asked, caressing his hair until he hummed into your touch,”It’s okay, Aegs, I know you don’t do that stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“Date, have a relationship, that kind of stuff.”

“Oh,” he sighed and you watched his expression fall,”Right, of course, how could I forget? I'm the kind of guy you fuck, not the guy you date. Who in their right mind would want to end up with Aegon Targaryen anyway, huh?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you tried to soften the blow but he was already pulling away from you and grabbing his shirt. He put it on without looking at you. The sudden silence in the room was heavy.

“You should go,” he then whispered.

“Is that what you want?” you asked softly and you didn’t move from your spot in the bed, hoping he would grant you another look. It took a while but he eventually turned around and looked into your eyes.

“You know that’s not what I want, sweetheart,” he sighed quietly and your heart leaped.

“It’s not what I want either,” you confessed.

“It’s not?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

You reached out your hand to him and he took it eagerly, letting you pull him back into your arms. He cupped your neck and kissed your lips, soft but hungry, waking up an entire army of butterflies in your stomach.

“I want to do all that stuff, with you,” he then whispered in between kisses,"I want you so bad....I've never...never felt this way about anyone before. And I know I’m not boyfriend material and you can do so much better than me but…”

“I don’t want to do better, I want you,” you breathed against his lips.

“Wait, did you just insult me?” Aegon teased, making you both laugh but then his gaze turned soft and serious,”I know I’m not the Targaryen your mum had in mind but…will you give me a chance? Will you be my girl?”

You leaned into him and closed your eyes,”I'm already your girl, Aegs.”

He smiled and put a lingering kiss on your forehead.

”Fuck, our families will be so pissed over this.”

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Aug 26th

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1. hi, this is for itmf! pls rec me trans wangxian fics :3c no modern au tho pls, thank you!!

In Reflection, Truth by Shadaras (T, 55k, WangXian, WWX is summoned into a woman’s body, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, this is a story about being transgender, Dysphoria, Misogynistic Slurs, Ableist Language, it’s not slow burn if it’s going to be faster than canon, Trans Male Character, Trans wish fulfillment, Canon Divergence - Yunmeng Brothers Have A Real Conversation) has wwx reincarnated as a women and trans!lwj if i remember correctly

You might be able to find a few in our Trans Wangxian Compilation

The waters and the wild by SecretStorm (T, 62k, WIP, WangXian, Alternate Universe, Fairy Tale Elements, Pied Piper WWX, Trans LWJ, Many juniors, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Sexual Tension) It's a wip that hasn't been updated in a few years, but really good! Trans LWJ in a canon-adjacent setting.

try author 🔒withbroombefore; they write a bunch of canon-era trans lan zhan and it's all *really good*

🔒 Water Sweeter by deliciousblizzardshark (E, 8k, WangXian, Historical, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Some kind of fairy or spirit or something LWJ, Intersex LWJ, Intersex Character, Fluff and Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Thirst Trap WWX, Topping from the Bottom, WWX’s Canonical Cottage-core Fantasy, First Time, Domestic Fluff, Vaginal Sex)

hold her where you want her by damnslippyplanet (E, 6k, WangXian, Gender Changes, Trans Female LWJ, Female WWX, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)

scarcely trust my candid heart by Deastar (E, 6k, WangXian, A/B/O, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Beta/Beta, Demisexual LWJ, Trans WWX, Fluff and Smut, Female WangXian, Partial Cisswap, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, poor LQR is just trying to be a supportive ace elder and doing a great job actually, too bad it goes right over his niece's head)

you can always find me here by ScarlettStorm (E, 15k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Genderswap, Cisswap, yes it's BOTH, trans woman LWJ, cis woman WWX, they're lesbians harold, the excuciating beauty of night hunting with your bestie, who you're very much in love with, and hoping they love you back, (spoiler: they do), First Time, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, gratuitous descriptions of summer weather)

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2. Hi! This is for ITMF. I want a semi-serious (?) And slice-of-life fic. I dont know how to explain it. Just an example like WWX in his yiling laozu ers tells people in yiling that that person who sells talisman from yiling laozu is a fraud. And then it snowballed to people ask his service to banish monster or something and WWX reputation gets better. But the story focus on WWX everyday life like he make new inventation or trying to describe his cultivation. An example maybe something like Just as the Snow Melts by draechaeli or if a modern fic it is something like I Don't Want to Debut! By countingcr0ws or Anything For Wei Ying by panda_desu. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts) is one that focuses on basically the life in burial mounds

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, /Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming NHS, Disabled Character)

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3. Hii!! for the next itmf can I please request some dark lwj?? sugar daddy vibes or just possessive lwj? i read a few mafia fics and I'm craving this trope a bit more now .thank you!!!

🔒 At heart by apathyinreverie (M, 36k, WangXian, WIP, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Revea, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, kind of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)

🔒 As good as by apathyinreverie (T, 6k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, not a good uncle LQR story, but also not not?, Golden Core Reveal, Kind Of, Golden Core Fix-It, Also kind of, Addiction, Manipulation, not between wangxian, just...War politics, Sunshot Campaign, Not As Dark As The Tags Make It Sound, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ, Tired WWX, Genius WWX, Dual Cultivation, LQR is too old for teenage drama, Developing Relationship)

golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)

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4. Hi! For any future I'm In The Mood For, i'm looking for Wangxian fics that are cozy, like being wrapped up in a warm hug. @emrinalex

crystalized by gusuvibes (M, 25k, WangXian, Modern, Bakery, Pining, Getting Together, Baker LWJ, Nurse WWX, OYZZ in a STARRING ROLE, Bunnies With Bad Names, Elaborate Descriptions of Delicious Baked Goods, Frottage, Eventual Smut, Sexy, Baking, Time) is all cafe, cakes and kisses

🔒 and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqveen (T, 11k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Professors, Shapeshifter LWJ, Not Quite Necromancer WWX, Mutual Pining, WWX being an oblivious idiot, Fluff, Love Confessions, yunmeng trio, Family Feels, get JC therapy 2020, Kissing)

i’ll have you and you’ll have me by sundiscus (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern, Established Relationship, Marriage Proposal, fluff with a sprinkling of angst (for flavor), Podfic Available)

Love Cats by so_shhy series (T, 14k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Fluff, WWX is wet and adorable in a tree, With a Cat, LWJ had no chance, Don't Try This At Home, First Dates, LWJ likes ducks, WWX does not like dogs, They just have a nice date, picnic dates, Falling In Love, LWJ is briefly less than graceful, there is a spider, but like barely there and totally harmless, LWJ Loves Rabbits, Office Party, LXC is a Good Big Brother, WWX is an excellent boyfriend, POV Outsider, they are in love the world is full of joy, Everything is Beautiful except for baby coots)

The Late Great Custody Debate by stiltonbasket (G, 9k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LXC/NMJ, JC & WWX & JYL, modern, Domestic Fluff, baby a-yuan, Single Parent WWX, LWJ is a confused rabbit owner, nielan are married, nhs is: xoxo gossip girl, Custody Arrangements, engagement, Confused WWX, WWX voice: if i’m the one with the kid why are you suing ME for child support?, LWJ kills his own love life in the worst way, Happy Ending)

Pigtail Pulling by protos_metazu_ison (G, 3k, WangXian, Fluff and Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans)

Just Say Yes Series by edenwolfie (T/M, 338k, WangXian, Matchmaking, Pining, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, POV Alternating, Fluff, First Kiss, Declarations Of Love, Humor, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Good Uncle LQR, Engagement, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It)

🔒 yearned for by spookykingdomstarlight (G, 3k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Future Fic, Pining, Rabbits, Fluff, Kissing, Family)

If your heart is in your dream (No request is too extreme) by Spodumene (G, 1k, WangXIan, LWJ's Birthday, Fluff, Modern Setting)

Oh, your love is sunlight by feyburner (M, 9k, WangXian, Drabble Collection, Tags specified in each chapter, But it's all pretty soft and goofy)

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5. I love your blog so much! It helps me find fics i sometimes unknowingly overlook, so...thank you so much! Itmf fics in Lan Wangji's POV, any AU works but if its canonverse, may I request it be novel or donghua canon please? Also have another request for wangxian recs...jealous Lan Wangji because Lan Xichen flirted with/dated/fucked Wei Wuxian in the past (could be a rumour but I'd prefer him to have heard/seen it happen and decide he wants Wei Wuxian for himself)...any AU!

🔒 The Price of Old Wishes by SoManyJacks (E, 67k, WangXian, Minor canon divergence, Angst, POV LWJ, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, semi-verbal!LWJ, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide) Retelling of the novel from LWJ's pov

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6. hii this is for itmf!! modern au or not but just anything where wwx gets pregnant with lwj's child and runs away for whatever reason without lwj knowing that they have a child together and then years after they will have a reunion and the big reveal. I just love tropes like this and idk what tags i have to place to get these results (so if anyone can kindly guide me on what tags are the best to look for these fics, i will be so grateful!!) Thank you!!!

The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani (M, 46k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Old Friends, One Night Stands, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forgiveness, Second Chances, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies) Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, mention of miscarriage, Birth Trauma, amniotic fluid embolism) Both feature Wei Ying leaving because he's led to believe that Lan Zhan wants nothing to do with him.

All The Years Lost by UseMyMuse (T, 26k, WangXian, Teen Pregnancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Single Parent AU, Forced misunderstandings, Forced miscommunication, Mpreg) Both feature Wei Ying leaving because he's led to believe that Lan Zhan wants nothing to do with him.

Family Pictures (Or: “Mark Rothko is very, very dead, Wei Ying.”) by belleweather (M, 37k, WangXian, Kid Fic, Post Mpreg, Modern AU, Cindarella Story, Mistaken Identity, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, art conservator lwj, idiot WWX, (he gets better slowly), shockingly little actual sex omg what happened to me, fake/mistaken cheating, no actual infidelity)

Nothing but your heart by airinshaw (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, First Time, Getting Together, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Whump, Breeding Kink)

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7. Hello, for itmf id like ask for work in modern premises where lxc and others accidentally or semi intentionally killed wwx and conspired to never talk about it. Lwj is relentless in searching for wwx. Canon period is ok if there is no canon conflict as the reason @best-before-end

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8. Hi! For the ITMF, I wanted to ask if there are any fics where WWX died at the end of the war? I don't know if it's hc or canon but I keep having the thought that he didn't expect to survive the war without a core. I was wondering how it would have been if WWX over did it or something and died. I'm looking specifically for him dying at the end when the sun shot campaign isn't hindered by it, I suppose. Thanks to everyone in advance! @hikato-chan

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9. heyo! can you rec me a canon compliant/canon divergence wangxian fic that

A) has one of them explore his sexuality, identity, all that good stuff

B) has both of them explore the above together

basically i just want fics where wangxian explores and accepts their own queerness and sexualities and it's a verh lovely time, hehe

~*~

10. Itmf fics that highlight how sweet wen ning is, and his friendship with wwx. (Also any sweet-yet-badass wen ning stories, esp if wen ning gets the recognition he deserves, with a good title/respect etc.)

~*~

11. For the next imtf, can you recommend me some of your favorite non English FFs on Ao3

I’m sorry, Good bye by NHaraki (M, 35k, WWX/WRH, WIP, Jiang Family Bashing, Time Travel Fix-It, YZY Bashing) I translated it via Google Chrome and it was fine. It's an WWX/WRH fic where WWX returns to his childhood after the Siege. Stuff happens, YZY throws him into the burial mounts and WRH finds him. It's a lot of healing and hiding WWX. Found family. WC is raised better. It's adorable

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12. I recently finished reading a wangxian fic told from Jingyi's POV and in that post-canon fic, everyone loves and lusts for wei wuxian to the point many believe its not even possible for his original body to have been better in terms of attractiveness. So itmf of wangxian fics with like...sorta similar premise in the way everyone loves/lusts for/is awed by wei wuxian to the point of hero-worshipping/using him as a standard for future spouse, etc. Lots of wei wuxian swooning and sighing about not finding someone better than him and so on please!

~*~

13. any truth spell/potion fics for itmf? as long as it’s not a sad ending i’m game for anything involving the truth being revealed in some manner like this!

🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric) is not quite the ask but its about lwj who can tell lie apart from truth because of a spell his mother gave him

the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships (M, 40k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending) Not sure if these fit for 13, but Wei Wing develops a talisman to trace curses back to their caster

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts) Not sure if these fit for 13, but Wei Wing develops a talisman to trace curses back to their caster

when you’re doing all the leaving (then it’s never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 26k, wangxian, canon divergence, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, sharing clothes, sharing a bed, fix-it, golden core transfer) Not sure if these fit for 13, but Wei Wing develops a talisman to trace curses back to their caster

All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 65k, WRH & WWX, wangxian, WN & WWX, Wen WWX, abuse, whipping, manipulations, smart WWX, possessive behavior, implied/Referenced rape/non-con, past rape/non-con, WIP) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters., hurt no comfort for Jiang siblings.) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members

🔒 this body yet survives by RoseThorne (T, 57k, WangXian, WIP, No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Near Death Experiences, Attempted Murder, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Siblings, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers, Protective LWJ, Protective LQR, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Bad Parent YZY, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, reference to poisoning, reference to assassination, Reference to chronic illness, reference to infanticide, Depression, Minor Injuries, Painting, Gift Giving, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling JYL, BAMF WWX,, Jealous SS, WWX Protection Squad) Wei Ying develops a way to show blood relations/family members

~*~

14. Looking for a fic where it’s like “we just did something super duper gay what happened”

~*~

15. I always see fics about people falling for lan wangji’s cold beauty but for the next itmf, do you have any fics for people are crushing on wei wuxian for his looks or charms? it can be existing characters or ocs, idm!

Endgame wangxian though, please!

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16. Hello! ITMF Jin Guangshan surviving until Wei Wuxian comes back to life, so that Wei Wuxian can take revenge/get justice from Jin Guangshan himself. Thank you!

~*~

17. Based on one of Kay's commentaries on a fic rec, I was wondering if anyone had any fics that put Wei Wuxian through an "emotional blender" lmao.

Silenced by Tasharene (M, 63k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Temporary Blindness, Aversion to touch, Fear of crowds, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, WWX Whump, Hurt WWX, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, world-class troll LXC, see the archive Warnings BEFORE you accuse me of not tagging things!!!) warning- ALOT of angst like alot lot but its a happy ending

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[yandere-writer-momo]

Can we get a fluff yandere pickle story with reader, that one from earlier I’m not gonna lie was a little cute. He reminds me of a little puppy.

Pickle? Fluffy? Well I can try… he’s a lil dumb, stinky murder puppy

Thank you for the h*rny request break. I was getting lost in the sauce

Yandere Baki Head Canon

Pickle fluff edition

Pickle

Pickle follows you around like a puppy and he copies what you do. If you pat your head, he will pat his too. It’s a fun game of monkey see, money do. You take it upon yourself to try to teach him how to live life as a modern human (easier said then done)

Pickle grows to love his hair being brushed. Loves it. He will sit Indian style in front of you just so you can brush his hair. He would purr if he could

Pickle also learned to like when you wash his back for him. He will take off his shirt every time you’re near a body of water with him because he adores being scrubbed. He thinks it’s your way of courting him (grooming him). It takes him a week for you to introduce soap to him

Pickle has a tendency to try to eat everything he sees so you show him what he can and can’t eat. He’s grateful for that

Pickle isn’t smart enough to learn how to speak but he’s picking up sign language. He’s so happy to be able to communicate with you (at last)

Pickle isn’t fond of other animals. He hates sharing your attention with others, even pets

Pickle chases ducks and geese. He also chases squirrels. He’s just like an oversized dog

Once he’s a clean boy, he lays on the end of your bed. Sometimes on the floor next to your bed. He just really enjoys being near you

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read chapter 8 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 9

Summary: Criston unknowingly casts a shadow of doubt in your head regarding daemon

Warning: 18+, smut, crude language, description of Statutory rape, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of child molestation, mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking,

You took Criston to your quarters on the 4th floor as he dragged along with you in such urgency. He had a file hanging around in his other hand and you couldn't deny that your curiosity was piqued especially if it was in relation to Tanya. Daemon had been so all over your head and everywhere else that for a moment you had forgotten that she wasn't in this world anymore. Shyla stopped in her tracks as she watched you drag officer Criston to your quarters. The smirk on her face was annoying even from the distance.

“Hey is everything alright?” You asked once you both entered the room, so he looked around your space before he nodded.

“Nothing to worry about..i just figured that you'd like to see this” he passed you the file so you took it from him, the folder had Tanya's name written on the top and as you flipped the cover you saw several pictures of her.

“When was this?” You asked as you saw her in front of the Christmas tree with presents scattered all around her, she had a loving family growing up, that you knew very well as she'd often talk about her hometown.

“Last Christmas” he told you so you nodded in response. You remembered her leaving for home last Christmas, and she really seemed happy post her return.

“Oh Tanya” you muttered under your breath as you looked at her smiling face but then your eyes widened as you saw something that you couldn't really make sense of. How did she get that?

As you were about to flip through the last few pages Criston stepped closer to you and grabbed the file from you.

“Don't look any further” he said, his tone had a sense of warning to it so for once you listened.

“Why though?”

He stared at your neck for a moment before he looked up at you, but then his eyes drifted towards your neck again so you shifted on your spot uncomfortably.

“Is there something on my face?” you chuckled nervously so he gave you a smile.

“No nothing..it's just you should cover that up” he told you so you looked at him confused before you beelined towards the mirror and saw the big blue bruise forming on your neck. A love bite. Daemon’s love bite. Embarrassment filled every sense of your being so you turned around and chuckled again.

“I burned myself with the hair straightener..ummm why can't I look?” You asked him again to change the conversation so he gave you a somber look.

“It's the pictures of her body when we found it..she was badly mutilated, it's very graphic” your brows furrowed as he said that.

“Ohhh”

You didn't think you wanted to see it either, you wanted to remember her the way she was and not as some girl found dead in the woods, she suffered in her last moments and the knowledge was already too grim for you, you didn't want the reminder of an image to go with that as well.

“So ummm what did you guys find?” you asked him as you crossed your arms together.

“I'm looking into it dear, I uhhh I'm sorry I just..if I was being honest I just wanted to see you” he stuttered a little and you could tell that perhaps he was infatuated with you, though you didn't understand why a handsome copper like him would even give you a second glance.

“I mean..there are not many familiar faces around here anymore” he covered up his nervousness with a half lie so you gave him a smile.

He might have visited you with an agenda of his own but you did find something in her photos that had you confused and scared a little.

“Ummm i ..I don't..i” before you could stutter further he interrupted you.

“Oh god I have made it weird now haven't i?”

“Oh noo no I am just not looking to ..date or anything like that, I don't do that” His brows raised as you said that before he let out a chuckle in disbelief.

“I didn't mean that i swear”

“Ohhh”

And now you were just mortified for assuming that he wanted to date you.

As you escorted him downstairs you passed by Shyla again and she gave you a smirk. Again.

“So she's single?” He asked you as he brushed his hair with his fingers so you gave him a look before you chuckled.

Well that was quick.

“Well as per my knowledge she is”

“Cool”

Once Criston left you ran back to your room and took out the box from the closet where you had kept the necklace Daemon had presented to you at the night of the gala. He had asked you to not wear it in front of Viserys and you didn't want to flaunt it around either so it was kept safely in the locker you had in your closet..

Taking a deep breath, you traced your fingers over the pendant, the delicate figure of a dragon etched into the valuable stone.

“Why did you have the same necklace Tanya?” You murmured under your breath as every hair on your neck stood up. She had it on in her Christmas photos. Daemon had told you that the necklace was a family heirloom, passed down from generations then how come she had the same necklace?

The similarity between this necklace and the one you had seen on Tanya was undeniable, and the thought sent a chill through you.

The thought overwhelmed you from head to toe, the euphoria you felt under Daemon this afternoon was now replaced with a feeling of mistrust and anxiety. He came here two days after she was discharged, and he had told you that he had hurt someone out there.

“No it can't be ..don't judge, don't be that person” you consoled yourself over and over again as you laid down in the bed that night but the thoughts consumed you. Overthinking made you want to find answers to questions you were too afraid to ask.

What if he is not who he says he is? Did he know Tanya somehow? What if Doctor Viserys was right about him being a charming psychopath? And what if you had fallen right into his trap? You were only listening to his side of the story after all.

Next morning you didn't even finish your duty, normally you'd be rushing to his room and spend time with him but today you waited for him to go to his therapy session. While cleaning you did find a bunch of silver feathers and hair under his bed and that only confused you deeper. A part of you still believed in him but now there was a crease of doubt lingering over you like a shadow now.

During lunchtime as you went to the cafeteria's kitchen Shyla walked towards you and grinned so you rolled your eyes, she was starting to get back to her chirpy self slowly.

“Sooo that hot policeman, can I get his number?” She asked you so you shrugged in response.

“You can ask him yourself the next time he visits” she opened her mouth to say something but you interrupted her “which he would because Tanya's case is still wide open”

“Argggh you're such a stickler y/n” you rolled your eyes as she said that.

“Can I ask you something?” You crossed your arms as you leaned against the wall so she stared at you, her expression made it apparent that she had an inkling about what you were going to ask.

“What about?’

“Did he really attack you?” You questioned in a no nonsense manner so she sighed.

“Yeah..he did, he got really aggressive all of a sudden, I don't know what I did or why” she mumbled firmly but you could tell she was lying or atleast hiding the truth.

As you stepped out you saw Daemon in his usual spot and once his eyes met yours he kept it still on you so you looked around and walked towards him.

“You need to stop staring at me like that” you told him as you pretended to clean the already clean table so he sniffed the air around him.

“Why didn't you come this morning? I was waiting” he asked softly so you looked away. Why didn't you go? Oh because you think that somehow he was involved in Tanya's murder.

“What is going on with you today? Nearing your menstrual cycle can't be the only reason” He asked so you glared at him.

“Why would you say that?” you asked him as if he was being absurd about his assumption.

“I'm sensing an energy I wasn't anticipating”

“What did you think would happen? I'd bend down and pray to you for giving me an orgasm?”

Okay maybe you were indeed going through your premenstrual crankiness.

“The best fucking orgasm and no i wasn't expecting that but a little affection would have been appreciated but here you are being a shrew for who knows what reasons”

You glared at him again but the look on his face softened your features, he seemed hurt and you didn't want to hurt him of all people. When you didn't say anything he got up and walked past you to leave the cafeteria.

You could have just talked to him instead of making assumptions that might not be true at all. He wasn't really wrong about you being a judgemental person.

Once he was out of sight you turned around and sprinted to the third floor and you were going to apologize and talk to him but then you saw him talking to Caroline, she was a young, beautiful, very hot redhead patient who had just been admitted yesterday, right next to Daemon's room. Watching them have a conversation only made you feel angrier and the last thing you wanted was to escalate this argument further. If that's what it was.

Daemon turned his head to watch you walking away and his jaw clenched, he knew women went through mood swings but he didn't really know how to tackle it. Perhaps you were embarrassed about yesterday, or felt guilty, that was your first proper sexual experience and it must have been overwhelming.

“So why are you here? You are too hot to be here”. Caroline’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts so he reverted his attention towards her.

“You go first” he responded, though he wasn't really interested anymore now that his thoughts were plagued by the sudden shift in your attitude towards him.

“I have sex ...a lot of sex” she answered him.

“Why is that bad?” he chuckled.

“Because it's a lot..the urge is just unreal and i have done some fucked up shit because of that” she seemed lost as she answered as if she was reliving those bad deeds in her mind.

“Well no judgment on my behalf”

“That's rare .. coming from a man...okay you go now” she asked him and he couldn't help but smirk.

“Well I am part human part dragon” he mumbled seriously so she chuckled before she let out a shrieking laugh.

“You're crazy aren't you? Good thing you're really hot” She winked at him before she walked past him to go to her room. “Seek me whenever you want, neighbor” she mumbled seductively as she stepped inside her room so he shook his head in response.

He couldn't afford to seek anyone anymore when he was deeply invested in someone else. Someone that was hell bent on raising his blood pressure every other day..

Later that evening as you came back to your room after your shift ended you saw Daemon lounging on your bed with his back resting against the headboard, he didn't have a shirt on as usual. How did he even get in? You always kept your door locked and the windows..well you could see now that your windows were open.

You stared at him for a moment so he gave you a sly smile,

“What are you doing?” You questioned as you took the cardigan off and placed it in the laundry bin.

“What are youuu doing and why? You have to talk to me, I don't do well with secrecy ..it makes me want to rip my feathers out”

You sighed deeply as he said that and walked towards the bed to sit down.

“I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to be so rude” you mumbled softly so he titled his head and stared at you as if he was trying to read your thoughts.

“What's going on? Are you regretting whatever we did yesterday, if that's so we never have to do it again -” you interrupted him before he could go on with that assumption.

“It's not that i swear”

“Then what is it?” his intense gaze bore deep into you so you sighed before answering.

“Criston came by yesterday and he had Tanya's file on him, he wanted to show me some pictures” he looked at you curiously at the mention of Criston, he knew that lad had severe hots for you.

“And?” he asked

“In one of the pictures she had the same necklace on her that you gave me on the night of the gala” his brow bone scrunched together as he tried to make sense of your words.

“That's not possible darling” he looked at you confused for a moment but then he connected the dots pretty quickly.

“I saw it with my own eyes, it was the same necklace”

“and you thought I had something to do with it?”

“Did you not? I'm sorry I judged you and ignored you but I need to know if you had something to do with her” he let out a sarcastic laugh as you said that but then his jaw clenched again.

“I didn't even know the girl”

“Then how did she have the necklace?” You stared at him as tears stung your eyes and then it made sense. Perhaps he wasn't lying to you. “Viserys..oh god. He gave the necklace to her, didn't he?”

“Genius aren't you?” he said as he chuckled slightly so you approached him.

“Daemon I'm sorry”

“I'm sure you are”

He got off the bed and walked past you so you stood up immediately and grabbed his arm to turn him towards you.

“I'm sorry..i really am”

“For what exactly?” he asked sharply, his anger and disappointment visible.

“For assuming and judging..” you placed your hands on his shoulders as you took a deep breath “It's just …i don't really know how to do this Daemon, i have been alone all my life and it's hard for me to trust people and I'm not used to being treated the way you treat me, how you care about me and -”

His lips latched onto yours before you could even finish your words so you wrapped your fingers around his neck and pulled him closer. You had plenty of questions but perhaps you needed this kiss too after the hide n seek you have been playing all day long with him.

“All you have to do is speak to me whenever you're passing these judgements in your head-” he paused between the kisses to mumble, then he cupped your cheeks to kiss you even more passionately this time.

“And do not avoid me like that, you're all I have here” a sense of vulnerability evident in his voice as he spoke so you wrapped your arms around his waist and placed your forehead down on his chest, his sweet mahogany scent filled your senses.

“The necklace? Why would Viserys give her the necklace?” you questioned him softly so he looked you in the eye.

“Perhaps to win her trust, that's what he does with his conquests, offers them the family heirloom to make them feel important and different from others” your eyes teared up but with disgust this time.

“but Tanya was his patient how could he-”

“Perhaps he indulged himself with bit of a forbidden affair-”

“She was so young”

“You think he cares?” You went quiet as he said that

“I'm just so confused daemon”

“I can tell”

“Why did you give me the necklace?”

“Because I wanted you to have it.. I know you don't trust me fully yet but I'm not trying to fool you here” There was a sense of sincerity in his tone, whenever he spoke to you this way you were inclined to believe him over anything else.

“Mhhhm You say that now but you wouldn't even look at me out there in the real world” your insecurity creeped in so he crossed his arms and smiled.

“Mmhmm is that so? Why? Am I blind in the world out there? Or have an aversion to pretty women?” he asked in a mocking tone so you stomped on your leg like a petulant child.

“You'd rather be with women who look like Shyla or ..or ..or your hot new neighbor”

“Mmmm half of that is actually true, I'd not wait one single night to have them into my bed” you tilted your head and bit on your cheek as his answer didn't really surprise you. But then he went on to say something you didn't really expect from him and it gave you feelings you have never really felt before in your life.

“You however, I would wait forever for you if you'd want me to”

“Oh you're smooth aren't you?” You mumbled amidst your flushed face and racing heart, hoping that he'd not notice how giddy he had made you feel with that remark.

“Come here ..kiss me” he whispered as he grabbed your chin and pulled you closer to kiss your cheek.

“Let me shower first..I stink..it's been a long day of me trying to run away from you” you placed your palms flat on his chest as you pushed him away a little in a playful manner and he couldn't help but smirk..

“You smell good to me darling” his arm went around your waist and he pulled you closer again so you looked up at him “Sweet..very natural, I fancy this much better than the cheap perfume you use in the morning” he mumbled as he placed his nose into the crook of your neck and you'd have felt an offense on the comment about the perfume but then he wasn't really wrong. Your fingers curled into his hair as you placed a soft kiss on his shoulder.

“Well I'm still going to shower and perhaps as an apology for how I acted this morning I'll let you cuddle me in the bed” You whispered in his ears before you stepped away from him so he looked up for a moment and mumbled a silent thank you to whatever god he prayed to.

After you had your shower you decided to put on a set of pajamas as a nightie might have been too sexy for your own good.

As you came out of the bathroom he was propped on his elbow and stared at you mindlessly so you jumped into the bed, laid down on your side and got under the covers to look at him sheepishly.

“Are you cold?” he asked you as he chuckled at the playful act so you nodded in response. That's when he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“Why are you so warm all the time?” You asked him so he caressed your scalp with his fingers.

“It's just my genetics”

“Your dragon genetics?”

“Mhhhm”

“Does it bother you, not knowing your history?” You asked him so he sighed deeply.

“That's why I'm here, Viserys has denied my true nature all my life, refusing to tell me who our father was or how he had come to marry mother. I feel like he has all the answers” he answered so you tucked the loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“Mmmm” your fingers trailed over his chest as you hummed in response so he leaned down to kiss you.

“Did you have a girlfriend before..serious ones?” you asked one more question so he smiled.

“I did yes” he answered while his hands roamed over your thighs, your breath hitched immediately at the sultry touch.

“How was it like with her?”

“Alright I guess”

“Who was the most recent one?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just trying to get to know you”

“Well there was this girl who taught with me in college, lasted a year or so” he mumbled as he sucked another mark on your neck. You made a mental note for later as you didn't want him to bruise you up like that for everyone to see, it just felt too good right now to stop it from happening.

“Why did you break up?” you asked another question as if you were playing twenty questions with him.

“She wanted to get married,” he answered nonchalantly.

“And you didn't?”

“I'd marry only when I believe that it's going to last”

“Mmm don't you miss her? Don't you miss the person you had in your bed, the person you used to have sex with all the time?”

“I think about her once in a while but I don't miss the sex..no”

“Why not?”

“You're a talker aren't you?” you giggled as he said that.

“Tell me” you imposed again making him sigh in response.

“Sex is not the only reason why I was with her”

“Really?”

“Mmm..she was a prude in bed”

“That's so mean ..” you hit on his chest playfully so he grabbed your arms and placed it over your head.

“It's just the truth, she wasn't very experimental, strictly missionary and nothing wrong with that..but I just revel in variety” you couldn't help but bite on your cheek as he said that.

“Mmm well at least she was having sex with you..unlike a certain someone you know” you mumbled cheekily so he leaned down to place an innocuous kiss on your forehead.

“That certain someone can give me nothing and I'd still want her in my bed” your ears felt hot at the way he had said those words so earnestly.

“Why is that?”

“Because I have seen the lust and passion this girl can offer me, it's only a matter of time darling”

“What if you're wrong ..what if she's another prude, what if you're cursed with prudes?”

“Well then sex is not everything.. believe it or not”

“That's refreshing coming from a man like you” you said confidently, making him guffaw at your words.

“Man like me?”

“Mmmhmm you look at everyone as if you're undressing them in your head”

“It's just my face, though there's this certain someone I tend to undress every night in my head these days whenever I'm jerking off”

“Mmmmhm how lucky is she..almost makes me want to watch you do that” you challenged him, making his eyes dark with lust.

“I was promised a cuddle, not this passive aggressive dirty talk”

He kissed you passionately as he let go of your arms, you dragged your fingers from his chest and played with the waistband of his trousers so he pulled away to look at you.

“Don't start what you can't finish” he warned you so you bit on your lower lips.

“Mmmm i wouldn't know what to do anyways”

That's what you said but your palm has already cupped the bulge forming in his pants, as you applied a little pressure he let out a deep gravelly mixture of a growl and a moan. Perhaps one of the reasons why you had found yourself to be so enchanted by him was because he wasn't completely human in his demeanor.

“Fucking hell girl ..that's not what sweet good girls like you should do to a man in bed”

“Show me”

“What?”

“Show me how you touch yourself”

He looked at you to assess whether you were joking but then the scent of your arousal was so thick he could smell it a mile away. He laid down next to you and lifted his hips up to lower down his pants, his cock all hard and erect made your eyes widen in surprise. You know he was blessed but you weren't expecting a giant cock, not that you had anything to compare it to. Small silver bushes neatly surrounded his length.

As his precum dripped down he collected the liquid between his fingers and gave his cock a stroke. You turned on your front and stared at his pretty face for a moment before you scooted closer to him and kissed his neck.

“You're so big and thick”

Even amidst his arousal he couldn't help but smile at your words, they were intended to be dirty in nature but they also just seemed full of naivety, over these last two months if there was one thing he knew about you then it was that you had two completely different personalities, the one out there in the world was the woman with the “don't fuck with me” approach, the one that didn't back down in front of anyone, one that spoke her mind and wasn't afraid of anyone and then there was this, this inexperienced shy girl in bed, the one who mumbled such innocent words of wonderment, who couldn't even look at cock for more than a few seconds at a time.

Luckily he was the only man to see this other side of you and he cherished that alot.

He opened his other arm and curled it around your neck to caress your head, you were snuggled on his side perfectly..your eyes flickering back and forth between his face and his cock.

Much to his surprise you then trailed your fingers down and placed it over his knuckles, feeling the way his hand moved in a way that was familiar to him.

“You can touch it darling..it won't hurt you i promise”

There was a sense of mocking in his words so you glared at him for a moment before you placed your hand on his cock, an involuntary gasp escaped your lips as the warm thick flesh pulsated in your hold.

“Goshhh” you whispered mindlessly as you looked down and he brought his hands down to your ass to give them a squeeze,

“What should I do…Daemon..tell me please” you whispered in his ears so he grinned in response.

“I'm rather enjoying how you're shivering darling”

“Please tell me”

“No need to beg sweet thing”

He placed his hand on yours and guided it up and down slowly, all you could do in that moment was to just keep your eyes focused on his lips, the way he opened his mouth as the sensation tickled deep into his stomach, the way his lips pursed and the occasional slip of the tongue that came out to wet his lips, everything he did just seemed to turn you on.

As you leaned into him to kiss him he grabbed both of your arms and flipped you underneath him to kiss you with fervor passion.

“You drive me insane love”

“In a good way?”

“The best ways..now keep your hands there like a good girl and watch until I tell you otherwise alright?” He mumbled as he placed your arms up and then sat up on his knees to give you the perfect view of the show you had asked for.

You watched completely lost in trance as he fisted his cock right next to you, thighs muscles flexed as he drove his cock into his own fist to build up the sensation, his head lulled backwards at the thought of you watching him do something so intimate.

The strings of curses that left his mouth were vulgar, and so were his moans, almost pornographic.

“Give me your hand darling” he mumbled as he asked for your hand so you brought it forward without hesitation “make a fist but touch your fingers to your thumb yeah?” He asked so you nodded immediately and followed his command, he grabbed your wrist and turned it upwards so now there was a makeshift hole for him to fuck into.

“You're so..hottt” you gulped as he shoved his cock inside your fist and moved his hips back n forth, his fingers were holding onto your hand so he could adjust the hole and tighten it as per his pleasure, you didn't miss the slight caress of his thumb over the back of your fingers. Even amidst the throes of passion he somehow found a moment to be gentle with you.

Now you knew how he'd look when he's fucking you with such passion and he looked divine, almost godly. You never thought you'd see a day you'd use such words to describe a man but there he was, in two months he had turned your whole world upside down.

The only sound you heard for the next few minutes were those of his moans and occasionally yours slipped out as well, you couldn't really help it when he looked so good and so indecent. Your eyes glanced at his balls, they hung firmly below his cock but they jiggled due to the rocking movement of his hips. In that moment you probably had the filthiest thoughts ever known to a man. You found yourself thinking about doing things you never thought you'd do with a man.

“Almost there pretty girl..you have been so good” he mumbled softly as he placed his other arm on the headboard of the bed for support, his knees felt weak as the orgasm swept him away, his cum splattered into your fist as he finally came. And boy if he wasn't loud.

You felt his cum sitting into the crevices of your palm, all warm and wet, so goddamn warm.

His chest was heaving up and down in the post orgasmic euphoria, small beads of sweat shining all over his skin in the dim lighting of the room. His fingers ran through his hair as he finally slumped down and relaxed his thighs, after pulling his cock out of your fist he laid down to collect his breathing.

None of you said a word, not for a good few seconds but then you turned towards him and kissed him softly, a smile apparent on his face and yours as well. His fingers curled around the roots of your hair as he kissed you, tongue invaded your mouth as he twirled them around to play with yours but then his brows furrowed suddenly so he pulled away from you.

“You're bleeding sweetheart” he said so you looked at him confused before you felt it trickling down in your underwear.

“I'll go wash my hands”

You mumbled as you got off the bed and before he could stop you from leaving, as you reached the bathroom you pulled your pants down and took out your period panties from the cabinet. Well there indeed was a drop of blood but your panties were wet for entirely different reasons.

As you stepped out he was standing right outside the door all naked, his cock now limp but still huge.

“May i?” He asked you so you nodded and stepped aside immediately so he could use the bathroom, then you walked towards your bed to lie down.

A few moments later he had joined you as well, you did promise him a cuddle after all.

“Was that good for you?” You asked him softly but instead of answering he placed his head on your breasts and hummed in response.

Didn't take you both long enough to fall asleep but the most peaceful sleep of your life didn't last for much longer as you heard the wailing of the siren. The siren rang loud and clear, piercing the air like a warning signal. Its wailing sound made your heart beat faster and breath quicker as you realized what was happening. It was only used to indicate a patient had gone missing from their room or the premises.

“Daemon get up..hey” you tapped his cheek lightly so he opened his eyes to look at you.

“What?”

“I think they're looking for you, I am going out there ..please make sure you're gone.. Viserys can't find you here ok?” You told him strictly before you grabbed an overcoat to put it on and ran out there.

“What's going on?” You asked Shyla as all the members of the staff were huddling together on the third floor.

“Where are you? Dragon boy is missing”

Yeah that's what you thought.

“What do you mean?” You feigned innocence as you asked her so she sighed.

“It's weird because his room was locked from the inside but he's not in there, the windows were opened..do you think he jumped off? Nobody will survive that though-”

Her voice faded in the background as you looked at the guards searching for him in every room and you just hoped that he'd be gone by the time they head towards yours.

As your turn finally arrived Viserys followed the guards along with you, you could feel his eyes on you but you didn't dare look at him.

“When did you see him last?” He asked you so you pretended to think.

“During lunchtime in the cafeteria I suppose”

He grabbed your arm as he allowed the guards to go forward. You looked at him shocked at the sudden movement.

“You have no idea what I'd do with you if he's found in your room” he said to you so you glared at him.

“Excuse me? Are you threatening me?”

He let go of your arm as the guards looked at you and asked you to open the lock. Despite your best efforts to stay calm your hands were trembling as you opened the door, Viserys was the first one to storm in and the rest of you followed, they checked every nook and corner of the room, including the bathroom but he wasn't there, thank the Gods.

“Why is your window open?” Viserys asked you so you crossed your arms.

“Why not? It gets suffocating at times. Besides it's not as if he's actually going to grow wings and would fly over to my window from his own”

You mumbled sharply so he sighed and walked past you to go check other rooms. It was mouthy of you to speak to your superior this way but you couldn't help it.

An hour later Daemon was found back in his room so there was a horde of people outside of his room wanting to see if he actually was there and to annoy Viserys further he claimed that he had been in the bathroom this whole time which he further claimed the guards didn't check properly.

All eyes were on Viserys at the moment and he didn't want to punish Daemon in front of everyone so he turned around instead and stormed away. Rest of the people lost their interest as well as the commotion died down and headed for their respective quarters one by one.

Later that night Daemon sat up in his bed as he began to change again, his wings were the first ones to come out, then he felt the scales forming on his face, his nails growing longer as well, he was amidst his transformation and his senses were weakened so when he heard the knock on the door he assumed it was you. Perhaps it was time to show you who he was and he hoped you won't run away from him once you see him like that. He really hoped that he won't scare you away from him.

However as he opened the door he saw Caroline instead looking back at him with a mixture of shock and fear on her face but most of all amusement.

“So you aren't really crazy huh?”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

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@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

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[mypearlsareclutched]

You're Just Another One of my Problems

High By The Beach | Chapter Nine

Modern!Aegon II x Original Female Character, Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character

Viserys Targaryen is dead. His death brings unlikely people together, and drives others apart. Mila is unsure about her place amongst the Targaryen clan, her feelings are complicated. Does she stick by brother she fell for first, or the one she fell for harder?

RIP Vizzy T you're serving Targaryen realness in the afterlife (and grooming minors too, probs). I kept going ham with this chapter and it ended up being 8k words so I split it up and now it's 5k and the next one is going to be 5k+ so y'all will be eating good bbgs x

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: Family death, funerals, reunited at last, Targaryen daddy issues, major angst, captain love triangles, Aemond's 'I can fix this' ass, toxicity, mourning, also Morning the dragon but she's a chihuahua, canon character death, colourful language, Daemon, Otto, no-one is happy.

Word count | 5.1k

previous chapter // next chapter

Mila decides to travel with Aemond and Aegon back to King's Landing for Viserys' funeral.

After Aemond went to bed the night of the Targaryen patriarchs death, Mila sought out Aegon. She found him sitting on the floor of their shared bedroom, looking lost. Unsure of... everything, she simply joined his side, letting him rest his head against hers as they sat in silence.

Aegon was unsure of leaving the beach house. The morning after thr news of Viserys' assing, as Aemond threw various items into his SUV and waited outside for the other two to join him, Aegon stood outside, watching the waves with a blank expression. Mila watches him from the kitchen window, a crease forming between her brows.

Joining his side, she comforts him as she too peers at the ocean beyond. "We'll come back."

"You promise?" Aegon asks, voice uncharacteristically quiet and somber.

"I promise." 

He brushes the back of his hand against hers, the feeling of his soft skin comforting both of them. They share a look, words spoken silently before they turn and head off to join Aemond.

Opting to leave Aegon's battered and ancient car, the three pile into Aemond's car. The long, two day drive was painfully silent, no Cocteau Twins playing, no idle conversation, no Aegon swearing at passing drivers. Aegon slept in the back seat, Aemond taking Mila's hand into his own as he drove wordlessly. 

When they arrived back in Kings Landing, Mila felt an overwhelming feeling of dread. Like she wasn't supposed to be here, like she left herself back in Old Town. Aegon had paled during the drive, his smile vanished and his eyes haunted, and Mila knew he felt the same.

Aemond took a call from Otto, nodding along with his grandfather as he told him the plans for the funeral. He and Aegon were expected at the Targaryen estate, to prepare for the formalities. Aemond sighs as he ends the call, absentmindedly holding Mila's hands in his own as he looked out at the city scape. 

"I'm going to head to my brothers." Mila says, looking down at their enclasped hands, "I need to talk to him. I've been AWOL since Weirwood and we haven't spoken."

Aemond regards her silently, nodding. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, choosing his words wisely.

"Alright." He finally says, though his hand remains clutching hers, "The funeral is the day after tomorrow. Do you want me to pick you up from Cregan's?"

"Probably not a good idea to show your face there." Mila muses softly, pressing her lips together as she remembers Cregan's rage at Aemond for his actions that led to her overdose. Cringing almost noticeably, Aemond nods. "I'll be at the house at seven."

"I'll see you then." He leans down to press a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering. Mila presses her eyes closed, pulling back. Aemond's eyes flicker with disappointment, but Mila pretends not to notice as she takes a step back.

"See you then." 

She turns and looks to Aegon, who stares straight ahead, trying to not look at the interaction between his brother and the woman he loves. He pulls out his battered back of cigarettes, lighting one up and taking a drag. His eyes never meet hers. With an internal sigh, Mila leaves them both.

Knocking on Cregan's door, she braced herself for whatever kind of explosion that would be waiting for her.

The front door opens, and a familiar yet unexpected face greet s her. Rhaena gasps, flinching like a phantom was standing on the doorstep.

"Mila? Mila!" She exclaims, jumping and wrapping her arms around her, "Oh my fucking gods I can't believe you're here! You're okay! Oh my gods, Mila!"

"Mila?!" Cregan's voice yells from inside the flat, and his heavy footsteps echo down the hallway. Rhaena barely lets go of her friend before Mila is snatched up by her brother. His immense height and strength means he grabs her like she weighed nothing, pulling her off her feet and crushing her to his chest.

Mila laugh breathlessly, pressing her cheek to her brothers chest, the beating of his erratic heart could be heard through the old, white t-shirt he wore.

Cregan lets go of her, putting his hands on her shoulders to look down at her with wide eyes, "Where the fuck were you? Oh my gods, Mila, I was so fucking worried!"

"I called you." She tries to explain, placing her hands on his own.

"I broke his phone." Rhaena sighs guiltily, "I bought him a new one! But you... don't have his new number." She looks between them, looking crestfallen at the notion that she was the reason Cregan did not receive any of Mila's calls.

"Don't beat yourself up, sweetheart." Mila chuckles, taking Rhaena's hand in her own, "Next time I'll send a raven."

A huffed laugh escapes Cregan's lips, as he runs his hand over his face. Mila's mind finally kicks into gear, and she looks between her friend and her brother with furrowed eyebrows.

"Why are you here?" She asks the pale haired woman. Rhaena's eyes widen, and she gives her a shy smile. Cregan crosses his arms as he leans against the apartment door, nudging Rhaena to explain. Yet she remains silent, pressing her lips together as she nudges him back for him to explain to his sister.

"You two...?" Mila looks between them, "No fucking way, are you back together?!"

Rhaena blushes, smiling up at Cregan, "Kind of...?"

"Gods if I had known disappearing would bring you two back together I would have done it ages ago!"

"Not funny. Ridiculously unfunny" Cregan sighs, flicking her nose, his expression turning grim once again, "Why did you leave the clinic?"

Mila bites her lip, face darkening as she looks around the empty corridor where they linger, "Can we talk inside?"

"Oh my gods, of course!" Rhaena grabs her wrist, pulling her into the flat, "Come in, come in!" Momentarily forgetting about the owner of the flat, she shuts the door on Cregan's face as he stands outside.

"My apartment." Cregan grumbles with a sigh, though his voice is soft with affection for the Targaryen girl. He opens the door again, glaring half-heartedly at Rhaena's back as she drags Mila towards the kitchen. Cregan's apartment, bought with his giant footballer's paycheck, is completely open plan. The centre of the flat is the living room, with a conversation pit in the middle. The kitchen curves around one side, with the bedroom on the other side, an ensuite bathroom attached. Mila tries to not notice various items of Rhaena's clothes scattered across the floor.

"Tea? Tea." Rhaena drops Mila's wrist to flit around the kitchen, turning on the kettle and grabbing mugs as quick as a whippet.

"Rhaena, please, you're giving me whiplash." Cregan groans, wrapping an arm around her waist to halt her erratic movements and putting her down in the middle of the kitchen.

"Sorry, sorry." She laughs, running a hand over her locks. Her eyes follow Cregan's slower movements, her blush deepening.

"Great, I'm nineteen again." Mila groans, and Rhaena averts her eyes.

"Speaking of being nineteen again." Cregan grumbles as he leans against the counter next to the boiling kettle, raising an eyebrow at his sister, "Where did you go? I thought your vanishing into thin air days were over?"

"They are." Mila sighs, sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, "It's... well, it's a long story."

"Start at the beginning."

"It's the best place to start." Mila murmurs, accepting a cup of steaming tea from her brother, "So... I sort of freakout out and spiralled at the clinic-"

"Why?" Rhaena asks conversationally.

Because I almost kissed my ex-boyfriends older brother. "I started overthinking everything with Aemond, about what he said and how I felt like a disappointment for relapsing. I just... needed to escape."

Rhaena nods, her eyes sympathetic. Beside her, Cregan busies himself with stirring his tea, his jaw clenched as he listened to her tell her story.

"So I left. I hitchhiked back to Kings Landing, went to Alysanne Martells and joined the old gang at Madame Sylvie's. I got drunk and high and stupid. But it was all ok until I got into some trouble. With Jason Lannister..."

"I heard something happened with him." Cregan nods, "His brother Tyland snatched him up after he had a weird meltdown about the Targaryens, no-one's seen him since. What happened, Mila?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Did he try to hurt you?" Cregan asks, his voice low and dangerous.

Cregan knew about what Jason was like a few years ago. He was notorious for dealing drugs to famous folk, and for taking advantage of women who were in dire need of a hit. Mila had fallen victim of him a few times when she was a teenager, and Jason gained a few broken bones from Cregan's rage subsequently. But Jason never learned, and Mila could tell Cregan was worried about what he did that night.

"Aegon saved me." Mila states simply, "That's all that matters."

"Is it true he broke Jason's nose?" Rhaena asks, eyes wide, "Floris said she saw him and it was all bent outta shape like a tree root."

"Sounds accurate." Mila chuckles, shaking her head.

Cregan watches Mila, his face pensive as he thinks about what she's said.

"So where did you go with Aegon? It can't have been anywhere in King's Landing, I looked everywhere."

"Everywhere?"

"Everywhere."

"He took me to Old Town. His families beach house." A small , "I got better. Mentally, emotionally. Started to feel normal again. Like I wasn't some... freak let down."

"it's hard to feel like you've hit rock bottom when you're standing next to Aegon Targaryen." Rhaena muses. "Nothing against my cousin... well, everything against my cousin. He's a lost cause."

"No he's not." Mila said assuredly, finding herself quick to defend him, "He's doing much better. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him"

"So, a few weeks at the beach, you're better and you're besties with Aegon 'the Mattress' Targaryen?" Cregan chuckles mirthlessly, suspecting there is more to the story than she let on.

"You sure you didn't get high by the beach?" Rhaena asks, chuckling at her own joke.

"What's funny."

Mila jumps as someone else groans, looking around to spot the .

"Jace?" She laughs, spotting a head of fluffy dark hair popping up from the conversation pit. He looks around blearily, blinking at her. He waves slightly, before clutching his head and falling back onto the red couches.

"What was the joke?" He calls out.

"High By The Beach, by Lana Del Rey?" Rhaena laughs, before her face falls and she looks at Cregan, "How long has he been here?"

"...I have absolutely no idea." Cregan groans, walking over to the pit, "Jace, get the fuck out of my flat." He grabs a couch cushion and smacks Jace with it.

Mila stayed at Cregan's that night. The urge to go back to her own apartment never came, and the thought of being alone made her feel stomach twist into knots. Not after spending weeks with Aegon always at her side...

Ignoring her insistence that she could sleep in the conversation pit (once Rhaena had dragged Jace out of the flat by the scruff of his neck), Cregan had further insisted that she sleep in his bed. Before the conversation was over, Cregan had sprawled all six foot four inches of himself across the red cushions of the retro pit and conked out, leaving Mila to unceremoniously collapse onto his fur covered bed.

Rhaena had come back the next morning with a spare black outfit for Mila to wear to the funeral, something that she was immensely grateful for. She and Baela had turned up bright and early, rising before the sun.

They turned up with their dogs, Moondancer and Morning, at their heels. Moondancer, a dalmation with the prettiest, most judgmental eyes, had greeted Mila with a nudge of her head and a few barks that sounded way too reprimanding. While Morning, a baby chihuahua, had crawled onto Cregan's sleeping form in the pit and fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Baela stares at Mila with wide eyes after she confesses everything that happened. Since Viserys' birthday a month ago, to his funeral tonight. Including all the gory details of drugs, the beach house in Old Town, big Tesco and fucking both the Targaryen brothers. A detail she would have preferred not to hear about her two cousins.

"Gods wept, Mila, this is bad." She groans, holding a chipped mug in a well manicured hand.

"Thanks! I'll be sleeping on the highway tonight." Mila sighs.

"You need to talk to Aegon."

"You think?" The Stark says sarcastically, pouring more expensive coffee into her and Baela's mugs.

"Yeah." Baela smiles, patiently ignoring the other woman's sass, "I'm not the biggest fan of my cousin, but from what you've said, he's changing. Or at least trying to. And that's more than I've ever seen of him. He must know you're special."

"Stop it bae." Mila sighs as she puts the mugs down, running a hand over her face. Baela stands up from the table, walking around Mila to wrap her arms around her from behind, resting her head on her shoulder. Mila sighs into her, resting her temple against the other woman's head.

"It'll be okay, Mimi."

"Y'all have the worst nicknames for me." Mila laughs.

"That's because we love you."

"Love you too, Baebae."

"Ugh." Baela groans, nipping Mila's shoulder, "Ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be." Mila sighs as she follows her friend towards the front door.

As they slipped on their heels and finished their appropriately somber makeup, Rhaena sat next to Cregan and kissed his nose.

"Can the dogs stay here during the funeral?" She asks him softly, though he was barely awake.

"Sure." He grumbles, glaring at Morning on his shoulder. Rhaena beams and kisses him lightly on the lips, joining her sister and Mila at the door as Moondancer replaces her on the bed, sneezing over Cregan.

The last thing they heard from the flat was Cregan's murmured "fucks sake..." as the dogs got comfortable on his bed.

Once they got to street level, Mila was already feeling anxious about the day ahead. Emotions would come to surface at the sure to be extravagant funeral for the head of the Targaryen dynasty, and the Stark did not know if she was ready for that yet. Baela held her hand as they headed towards their car,

Laena Targaryen, her married name remained due to the recentness of her divorce, was leaning against the sleek black car. She smiled warmly at the three as they appeared, kissing Mila's forehead quickly before they all climbed into the car.

At the Targaryen estate, Mila finds her movements are slow and sluggish as she gets out the car, her body and soul unwilling to face the Targaryen's now, in their state of

"You're not coming in, mum?" Baela asks her mother, fluffing out her hair as she sneers at the building ahead.

"If I have to see your father, he'll be spooning his brother in his grave before the day is up." Laena smiles from inside the car, kissing Baela's forehead as she leans in.

"If you need anything, please let me know. Baela and Rhaena really love you, so I have no choice but to love you too. You have my number, anything happens, you call me."

"Thank you, Laena." Mila smiles.

"Say 'hi' to Rhaenyra for me." She says finally, before sliding back into the car. Ah, yes, another one of the Realm's Delights many ex's, Mila thought to herself with a chuckle. No wonder Daemon and Laena's relationship ended badly, he probably could never compare.

"Ew, mom." Baela blanches, rolling her eyes at the retreating car. The two Dragon Sisters begin walking towards the estate, heels clicking against the cobblestone. Up ahead, more and more cars unloaded black-clad mourners, surrounding the already darkened Targaryen mansion with a sea of night.

Mila tries to bite back the dread inside her as she joins her friends' sides.

Spotting Rhaenyra and her children greeting mourners across the courtyard, the group head her way. Jace's face brightens immediately, a wild grin on his face as he practically sprints over.

"Finally! Gods this is already such a drag, I'm so glad you guys are here." He grins, grabbing Mila's hand.

"That's so inappropriate, Jace." Baela smacks the back of his head, "Your grandfather is dead, dumbass, act sad."

"I've been acting sad all morning." Jace rolls his eyes, throwing his arm over Mila's shoulder, jostling her, "My favourite Stark is back."

"You saw me last night, moron." Mila says affectionately, "And I won't tell my brother you said that."

"No, go ahead." Jace wiggles his eyebrows, "He shags better when he's mad."

"Gross. His girlfriend is right here."

"His mistress, you mean." Jace sticks his tongue out at Rhaena, who elbows him with a roll of his eye. He and Baela begin bickering, while Rhaena

Rhaenyra smiles sadly at Mila approaches, reaching out and taking her hands in her own.

"How are you feeling?" Nyra asks.

"I should be asking you that." Mila sighs, noting the aura of sadness around Rhaenyra. She was always her father's favourite, knowing him during his peak, when he was a formidable philanthropist and model father. Doting, proud, everything a father should be. Everything his other children never got.

At a time, Viserys Targaryen was known as a family man. Husband to a beautiful wife, father to the perfect daughter. Then his wife died in childbirth, their second child never once opening his eyes, and Otto Hightower got his claws into Viserys. Married a young, beautiful woman, had four more children, continued on with life. But Viserys Targaryen was bitter until he died, crippled and as cancerous as the disease that took him.

"I am... well, I will be alright." Rhaenyra sighs, looking over at the rest of the funeral goers.

The main door opens, and Aemond strides out. Despite herself, Mila's breath catches in her throat. He's dressed in a full black suit, perfectly tailored and hugging his lithe frame. A green tie clip, as well. Of course he would get a new, expensive suit for his father's funeral. If Mila didn't know any better, she would say he straightened his hair. It falls perfectly around him like a blanket of bright gold, his skin pale and flawless.

It's a shame he's so beautiful, it would be easier for Mila to hate him if her heart didn't flutter whenever she saw him

His lone eye lands on her, pale blue iris and dark pupil scanning over her. With a nod, Aemond extends his hand out. Even across the courtyard, with a hundred people between them, he watches only her.

Rhaenyra's hand grips Mila's harder, her eyes hardening as she looks at her half-brother.

"I should go over to him." Mila sighs, nodding her head resolutely. Giving her a cautious look, Rhaenyra keeps her hand in hers, giving her a reason to stay by her side.

"You don't have to." The older woman says softly.

"I do." The Stark replies, squeezing Rhaenyra's hand and kissing her cheek, before leaving her.

A hundred people milling about in waves of black might as well not be there, as Mila walks through like towards Aemond Targaryen. His hand remains out, palm up as he offers it for her to take. And as she meets him at the bottom of the steps, she does. Instinct wins again.

"Come on, the rest of my family is already inside." Aemond says, squeezing her hand as he turns and leads her inside the mansion.

There are less people inside. Mila recognises a few, like Borros Baratheon and Jason Lannister, and members of Viserys' advisory board like Jasper Wylde and a man named Orwylle. All of them offer murmured condolences to Aemond, eyebrows raised in intrigue as they lay eyes on the She Wolf beside him.

It's hard not to feel like a spectacle, Mila notes as she lets Aemond lead her towards the parlour.

The rest of the Targaryen's mill about. Alicent is recognisable despite her veil as she stands beside her father. She lets out a gasp as she sees Mila, rushing over to her to grab her into a tight hug.

"Sweet girl, you're alright...."

"I am." Mila squeezes the Targaryen matriarch back, before holding her at arms length to give her a somber look, "I'm so sorry, Alicent."

The older woman nods, face barely vible under her veil. Over her shoulder, Otto Hightower watches Mila like a hawk. Almost like he was summoned, Aemond returns to Mila's side, taking her hand again. As if to prove a point to his grandfather.

As gently as she could, Mila gently lets go of Aemond's hand, moving over to the other Targaryen siblings. Daeron brightens as he sees her, immediately rushing over and crushing her into a hug. Mila smiles as she smooths her hands over his back, feeling him sniff as he lays his head against her shoulder.

"How are you feeling, Dare?" She asks softly, leaning back to look at him as she holds his elbows. He sniffs again, looking around with glassy eyes.

"I don't know, Mila. Me and dad weren't close or anything, but... he was still my dad, y'know?" 

"I know, sweetie. I'm so sorry." Daeron holds her hands, squeezing them gratefully before he leaves room for Halaena to join their side.

"Hey Hel-" Mila starts, before she is cut off by Halaena hugging her. The second daughter of Viserys was never one for physical contact, even with her family, so Mila carefully wrapped her arms around the other woman, hand cupping the back of her head as Halaena sank into her, "It's okay, lovely."

"Missed you." Halaena murmurs, voice muffled by Mila's coat.

"Missed you too, bug." 

Mila keeps her arm around her as they seperate. Helaena leans into her, cheek against her covered shoulder as she stares out into the distance. The Stark's hand holds the Targaryen up, sensing her mind is elsewhere in this moment.

Across the room, another pair of blue eyes watches Mila closely. She tries not to make it obvious when she looks over at Aegon, who sits sprawled out on one of the sofas. He seems calm at first glance, and perhaps his anguish would only be noticed by those closest to him. Mila looks at him for a long moment, watching his somber face and twitchy eyes.

She wants nothing more than to go over to him. To sit at his side, hold him to her like she did in Old Town. To press a kiss to every inch of his skin until he felt right again. But under the watchful eye of Aemond and Otto Hightower, she couldn't.

Someone clears their throat, and all eyes turn to Criston Cole as he stands in the doorway, looking ever the dutiful servant as he stands with his hands crossed in front of him. He nods to Otto, a grim look on his face.

"It's time."

Finally, after many years of illness and waiting, Viserys Targaryen is laid to rest. Inside a black coffin, he is lowered into the ground in the family lot, his ancestors surrounding him.

Mila stands at Aemond's side as the septon delivers a eulogy, harmonised by rolling thunder above. Small drops of rainfall around them. Though looking around the mourners, the drops of rain would be the only water falling down their faces.

Aemond watches with a stoic face, his eyepatch dripping, seeing eye dry. He stares at the descending coffin with disdain, with relief. His hand cradles Mila's waist, holding her close to him as the rain slowly drenches them both. Whether he holds her for comfort, for warmth, or for possession, she does not know.

Alicent is pale beneath her veil, brow furrowed as if she is confused about how she should feel. Her eyes keep flicking to her father, who barely spares the coffin a glance as he continuously looks at those around him. Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron, Rhaenyra, Daemon, Mila. All of them are merely here to be observed.

Helaena stands between Baela and Rhaena, the Dragon Sister's forming a protective barrier for their favoured cousin. Daeron stands with Jace and Luke, near Rhaenyra. The only child of Viserys who cries over his grave.

Daemon stands away from the large group, simply watching his brother being lowered into the ground from across the way. His arms are crossed, in a show of boredom, that Mila can only read as protectiveness. A younger sibling watching his elder leave this world forever.

As Mila looks around at those witnessing Viserys' burial, her eyes finally travel to Aegon.

His eyes were already on her.

Her breath hitches when she catches him watching her. The soft blue of his eyes is perfectly visible to her, a soothing colour reminding her of the waves on the shore of Old Town.

Eyes moving down to rest on Aemond's protective grip on her, his gaze hardens. His eyebrows furrow, his face pales.

Mila shakes her head, trying wordlessly to tell him everything is okay. To tell him that nothing has changed. That it should be his side she stands at right now, his hand she holds as they bury his father.

Aegon mouths something to her, and Mila's heart flutters.

"I love you."

AN// Apology video with tears coming tomorrow after I post the next chapter... Thank you guys again for all of your likes and comments and reblogs y'all r crazy like me and I love you all <<33

Lula x

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

This idea popped into my head as part of a reblog yesterday and I actually really like it, so I think I’m gonna make it a part of my official Rohan head canon:

There’s one canon Rohirrim in the books (appendices) named Haleth—a son of Helm Hammerhand—and there’s another Rohirrim Haleth in the movies—a son of Háma, the captain of Théoden’s guards.

I’ve always found it interesting that the name Haleth was a man’s name in Third Age Rohan given that the most famous person to hold the name was a woman—Haleth of the Haladin who led one of the three original houses of men back in the First Age and was a stone cold badass (First Age Haleth was a man in early drafts, so good change, Professor!). In all likelihood, Tolkien would say there’s no connection between the Haleths. It just so happens that Haleth means “warrior” in Old English/Rohirric and “chief” in the language of the Haladin, so it was a feasible name in both communities coming from totally separate influences and etymologies. But that’s no fun.

I much prefer to think that the Rohirrim have somehow heard the stories of First Age Haleth and they revere her. She’s a beloved part of the stories and songs that they use to document and teach the history of the world. And they revere her memory so much that they want to name their kids after her, even if that kid is a boy. Her badass-ness is SO undeniable that the name Haleth crosses gender lines in a way that’s (I think??) unique in Middle Earth and extremely rare even here in the modern U.S., where boys names often morph into girls names over time but the reverse almost never happens. So in my headcanon, Helm named his son after our girl Haleth, and so did Háma in his day. It’s a fairly common name in Rohan and goes to kids of all kinds in explicit tribute to one of the most fearless, uncompromising and proud humans of any gender to ever walk Middle Earth. And anyone from Gondor or Dunland or anywhere else that would pick on a male Haleth for having a “girl’s name” would find themselves at the wrong end of a spear right quick, not because they’re wrong—every Haleth in Rohan is named after a girl—but for the implication that being named after a girl is bad.

[highdramas]

a house in nebraska | j.m.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: language, canon typical sadness, canon typical violence, age gap but it’s not really mentioned, sweet sweet yearning, sexual situations but not explicit (yet hehe)

word count: 4704

summary: by joel’s side, you make your way to the midwest, and find yourself inching closer to a house in nebraska you once called home. you and joel have always been okay keeping your pasts to yourselves, focusing on the now. but a roadtrip stirs up feelings, ones that even you cannot deny any longer.

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. this is part of the creature comforts series but can be read on its own! house in nebraska in particular is a two part story. this is set 12 years after the outbreak began. joel is 48 and reader is 31.

you still thought about that house.

in most ways, it was rather unassuming. it wasn’t rundown, nor was it like the house that nancy mcnamara had on the other side of town. you remember that first time you had gone to nancy’s house for a birthday party. it was strange to imagine that people lived that way.

no, your house was simple, if not slightly dated. your parents never got around to modernizing it, and you didn’t want them to. it was beautiful in it’s dated nature. it was your home. more than a house. it was a home.

it’s days like today when you think about that house. sometimes you wonder if it’s still standing. oh, what you wouldn’t give to walk up those steps, to run your hand along the railing of the porch. it was a luxury to have these fantasies. that you knew more than anything.

you run your plate over the lukewarm water and you feel joel’s eyes on your back. sometimes, you wonder if he can read your mind. you wonder if maybe he’s harboring this secret power from you that allows him to know your deepest secrets, the history that you hold near and dear to your heart. you don’t know why it is. why it is you don’t tell him. it would be easy to lay all of it down at his feet, to come apart and know that he wasn’t going to judge you or hurt you for it. feelings are a weakness. longing is a weakness. but joel was never going to stab that soft underbelly. you were confident in that.

but you keep it bottled up anyway. you keep him placated with your smiles and the murmurs that everything’s okay, just tired and you know that he sees right through you but you both know that he’s not going to push it. that’s one thing, of many, that you love about joel. he doesn’t push. and in return, neither do you. not hard, anyway.

you dry your hands off and you settle on the couch beside him. you can tell that there’s something on his mind– his eyes don’t give anything away, and maybe he thinks that you’re the mind reader out of the two of them. “talk to me,” you say with that smile of yours that you pull out of the closet only for him, wear it like it’s your finest gown.

he sighs and leans forward, muscled arms against strong knees. he doesn’t meet your gaze. you wish that he would. “i don’t want to tell you because i know exactly what you’re going to say.”

“well, then at least you won’t be hit with any surprises.”

joel looks at you and you already have a wry smile on your face, and he has to fight the urge to match it. “you’re such a shit, you know that?” his humor dies off and he goes back to examining his hands. “gotta head out west.”

you straighten at that. “oh.” confusion riddles you– what is he not saying? “well, where?”

the looks says everything and you’re opening your mouth but he cuts you off before you can get a word out. “no. no. you’re not comin’.”

“if you’re going to nebraska,” you say, your voice perfectly level. “you’re going to have to chain me to the bed in order to get me to stay put.” you rise from your spot and walk towards your bedroom, rustling around to find your backpack. you don’t even know when he’s leaving and you’re preparing yourself.

he knows next to nothing about where you come from. what your story is. it’s not all that special, all things considered– for someone to be alive means that they have had to endure unthinkable hardship to get to that point. but he knows two things: you’re from nebraska, and you never knew what happened to your family.

“joel,” you say, folding a t shirt and laying it flat in your bag. “i’m coming.” when you look at him, there’s something in your eyes that he doesn’t recognize. a whole different you. “you don’t know the things i did to get to boston. so don’t fight me on this. i won’t be a nuisance.”

“i didn’t think you would be,” he steps closer. “i just don’t want you getting your hopes up. that’s all.”

you swallow and you look at him. there’s no fight on his face– you think he probably gave up this fight the second he decided he was going to tell you. after all, he could’ve up and left with a note and nothing more. hell, he didn’t even owe you a note. you weren’t anything. you were friends. you shared something. but beyond that, there was no reason for him to tell you shit. “joel,” you whisper and you step closer to him and you watch the way his throat bobs, the way his lip twitches. “you of all people know that my hope’s gonna have to be pried from my cold, dead hands.”

“i know,” he says quietly. you turn back to your backpack and then he’s behind you and his hands are on your shoulders. things have never been said so explicitly– what you are and what you aren’t, where the lines are drawn. all you know is sometimes he does this; he touches you and it lights you up with a warmth from the inside out. sometimes, you lie in bed beside one another and your foot draws up his calf and his hand smoothes over your waist and tugs you closer to him. sometimes he gives you his ration cards despite your protests. you will wake and he’s long gone but they rest on the dining table. the dining table where his belongings, meager as they are, mingle with yours.

joel cares. joel cares and he knows you more than anyone else could ever fathom it.

you show your care in different ways. once, on an abandoned vehicle in the qz, you found a texas sticker. you had taken dutiful care in the way you peeled it off. you found an old book and ripped a page from the back and laid the sticker down onto it. when you presented it to joel on september 26th, you could see the emotions pass over his face. sorrow and longing and then something else. a sidelong look at you, one that was mostly curious.

“it’s okay to miss it,” you had said then. “that life.”

you’d seen his reactions when others had made mere references of his life before. they were shut down. they were stopped, right then and there. and while you didn’t like to poke the bear… you wanted him to know. wanted to bestow this one thing. there was nothing else to say in that moment, all there was was you and joel and his arm slowly wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer. there was his lips against your temple and your fist gripping his flannel shirt. and that was all you needed.

but in this moment with him just behind you, hands beginning to rub into your shoulders, you feel it. that deep chasm of need deep within you, the one that you’ve been ignoring. your hand goes and covers his and you wrap his arm around your chest, kissing the skin of his forearm. strong, steady joel. protective joel. while you’ve laid awake and wondered what it is he felt for you, you never had to question if he would protect you. if he would save you when it all boiled down to it. you squeeze his arm and he squeezes you back, a heavy, reassuring weight. “just let me have some hope, joel.”

and he would.

–

you stop at bill and frank’s to do some trading. you’d heard the stories of their compound, but had never experienced it yourself, and there was a twinge in your heart. what was stopping you? what stopped you from moving in next door, earning your keep, being of service in some way? what stopped you and joel from settling? sitting around the table, music playing and eating a meal that was more than jerky and dried fruits, it was hard to remember your reasoning. why you two played by the rulebook that you did.

you’re admiring the house when frank found you. he gives you a smile and gets in the wine cabinet, pulling another fresh bottle. “astounding, isn’t it?”

turning to him, you remember that he was so warm. warm in a different way than joel. not better or worse. just different. “it’s amazing,” you admit. “almost hard to believe that there was a time where we all lived like this. took it for granted.”

he steps into the spot beside you, following your gaze. “i’m lucky. bill and i– we’re lucky.” he looks at you for a long time. you could feel the imprint of his gaze on your cheek. “how long have you been with joel?”

smiling to yourself, you say, “three years.” you pause, examining a painting on the wall. “feels like it’s been forever. he’s aging me. stealing my youth.” it’s a joke, and you give a crooked grin. “no, he’s… he’s made everything easier. much easier.”

frank hums at that. “i don’t want to pry,” he begins slowly, giving you a sidelong look. “but are you…”

feeling your cheeks grow warm, all you can do is shrug. “i’m not sure,” you admit. “but i don’t need to be sure. he’s my best friend.”

he nods his head, as if this answer makes more sense than anything else that you could’ve said. “well, for what it’s worth–” you both look out the window of the house where joel and bill stand, practically mirroring one another. hands on their hips. staring out at the fence. “bill’s my best friend, too.”

frank touches your shoulder and you smile at him. for some reason, his words are reassuring.

–

you end up staying the night. there’s a guest bedroom with an adjoining bathroom and frank says you’re welcome to anything you need while bill scowls. you shower before joel does– and, to be honest, he doesn’t give you an option in that regard. he puts his hands on your shoulders and he walks you into the bathroom, pushing the fluffy towel into your chest with a smile. “you stink,” he says and he does something that’s almost a wink that makes your heart sing.

so you do. you shower and you lather yourself in all of the fine soaps that frank had prepared for you. you think that joel must’ve told him about your dry skin– lotions of every scent line the counters, and you lather yourself in them post-shower. when you come out smelling like lavender and vanilla, joel’s head shoots up from his book. he stares at you for a long, long time. you shiver under his gaze, shifting in the clothes that frank had given you.

for a moment, you feel like you’re playing house.

joel clears his throat and he stands up, approaching you. his big hand goes to the side of your face and his thumb runs over your cheekbone, drags down to your lip. when you shiver this time, it’s much more noticeable, and you can see something flash behind joel’s eyes.

there are things that the two of you have done together. but never this. close– but never this. you’ve dreamed about what it might be like for his lips to brush yours, but you’ve never had the luxury to linger on it too long. you were both fighting, tooth and nail, for your own survival. the survival of each other, for tess, for tommy. a makeshift family if you’ve ever heard of one. but in this house, where the walls have art and the linens are clean, and you feel fresher and more clear headed than you ever have…

“go. shower.” you squeeze his wrist. “you stink.”

he scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head at you. but when he casts his gaze upon you again, when he nods his head and moves into the bathroom, you feel anticipation like you’ve never felt before.

joel takes less time in the shower than you did. but when he emerges, all wet hair and glistening skin, you have to physically stop yourself from standing. he doesn’t wear a shirt but sweatpants hang low on his hips, and every thought has to be written all over your face. he walks up to you slowly and your grip the duvet, but when he stands before you and nudges your legs apart to stand between them, your grip slackens, he takes your hands and he puts them up on his shoulders where you glide them across his tanned skin, lace them behind his neck.

“i’m going to say this once, because i don’t want to waste our time with it,” joel begins. “and i know– i know i’m not good with my words. i don’t know if i ever will be. and i know i’ve got walls up, i know i’m fucked up–” you open your mouth but he shakes his head. “let me finish. i know i’m fucked up. and i don’t know if i can give you everything that the man twelve years ago would’ve. but i am a selfish man, and i want what i can give to be enough. and i want to try and give you more.” he brushes a piece of your hair back. “if that’s what you want.”

“you’re more than i could ask for,” you reassure. your hands go to his face and your thumbs stroke against his cheeks. “so let’s stop wasting our time with talking about what we both know.”

joel pushes you down against the mattress and you pull yourself up the bed, towards the pillows, and he hovers above you. “can’t remember the last time i was in a bed this nice,” he murmurs, and he’s so handsome above you, you don’t know how you managed without it. you’ve slept side by side, limbs tangled, but this…

“me neither,” your needy hands reach out for him and then his brown eyes are level with yours, a hand splayed beside your head, holding himself up. “i don’t want to waste it. do you?”

the smile he wears would’ve belonged to the joel from before. mischievous, almost, a smile that reaches his eyes. “what ideas did you have?”

you open your mouth but then his lips are closing over your pulse point and it’s been so long, it’s been forever, it’s been a lifetime ago since you’ve had such true and real intimacy. you start to shake and you stammer to try and reply and he pulls away, shaking his head, running his hand through your hair. “i’m gonna take care of you,” he says seriously. “you gonna let me take care of you, nebraska?”

with a shaky laugh you nod your head, but that’s not enough for him. “words. give me your words.”

“yes,” you breathe. “please.”

and joel, your unsung hero, stays good to his word. he’s a passionate person, deep in there, so it shouldn’t have surprised you that he would be a good and passionate lover– but it did. it made you giddy, every touch, every drag of his tongue. but nothing was better than the first kiss.

joel makes sure to take care in tipping your face up to him. there were candlesticks lit around the quaint bedroom, illuminating you in a golden glow, and you’d never felt like an angel before– not even before this world had made you a killer. but under his eyes and in this room, you feel the closest you ever have. “so damn pretty,” he murmurs to himself, shaking his head. “you know that? how pretty you are?”

your foot runs up his leg. “don’t spend much time looking in mirrors anymore.”

“you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he answers for you. one hand goes to the side of your neck and his thumb brushes your pulse and it’s like every single thing in this broken world finally clicks into place with him. and that’s when he does it. that’s when he lowers himself and his lips find yours.

it’s slow. it’s like for the first time since 2003 he has allowed himself to enjoy. he savors you like he savored the meal that bill and frank served you that evening. he drinks you in like their delicious wine, the taste of you better than the heavy red had been on his tongue. a hand slips under your head and caresses, holds you, kisses you like there’s nothing else left to do.

your hands become explorative. across his chest, his stomach, down his spine. he shivers when you hit that sensitive spot just above his tailbone, and it makes you smile against his lips. “like that, huh?” he asks with a laugh. he falls down onto the bed beside you and he tugs you closer, his lips still attached to your jaw. “like knowin’ what you do to me?”

you’re helpless, nodding your head, mind foggy with pleasure. “oh, poor thing,” he coos with another cheeky grin, tapping your bottom lip with his thumb. “i’ll stop bein’ mean.”

“you’re evil,” you say but there’s no bark behind your bite, not when his lips start to move southward, down your chest, pushing up your shirt. your hips begin to raise involuntarily and everything is better than you could ever expect–

the door bursts open. “bill–” joel bellows, rearing back to look at him. you’re not even naked but joel is effortlessly protective, shielding you from his view. but you peek past his arm anyway, and what you see astounds you. bill’s scared. he’s trying to fight it, but you can smell fear like a bloodhound.

“raiders,” bill says and it’s the simplest thing he could’ve said, but it makes you move.

joel is on his feet and you’re tossing him a shirt and he’s tossing you your jacket, you’re moving around each other like you know the exact move the other will make next. and maybe you do. maybe you have memorized the way that he uses his body as a weapon and as a shield.

with guns drawn you help take down raiders. it’s not a fair fight, not with the set up that bill has built and not with you and joel by his side. joel has never had to see you fight. not really, anyway– he’s known of the knife that you keep on you at all times, but bill had tossed you a gun and you knew your way around it and while joel didn’t have time to watch, you could sense it. could feel his eyes lingering for just a moment too long, long enough to risk survival.

and then your gun lowers and your eyes lock and there’s something that passes there, between you.

you don’t know if love is the right way to describe what you feel towards joel. but if it is, then maybe you had just fallen a bit more in love with one another.

–

any mood that existed prior has been shot by the time that you get back into the guest room. with a long, heaving sigh, you start shucking your clothes off. there’s nothing wrong with them– no blood on them, no dirt, no grime, but the mere act of wearing them while you have killed someone makes your skin crawl.

joel exits the room but he returns with two new sets of clothes. he passes one set off to you before he starts changing himself, eyes heavy on one another.

and when you’re both in fresh clothes you inch towards one another and you collapse onto the bed together, and there’s nothing hesitant in the way that he pulls you to him, tugs your body close to his and wrap you up in his dutiful hold until you both drift off into a sleep, one not fueled by pills or booze, but by the safety of one another.

–

bill and frank send you with food (bill begrudgingly, frank happily) and a truck. your end stop is the omaha QZ, outside of which you’ll be meeting with a smuggler who joel has been in contact with since you knew him. but you were a long ways away from nebraska, and it would be many days on the road.

it’s two days in when you find the tape, rustling around through the truck. it was a forgotten thing beneath the passenger seat, and your entire face lights up when you see it. joel glances over at you with a furrowed brow and you lift jeff buckley’s grace. in tandem, you and joel say, “yes.”

mojo pin starts from the top and you find yourself gazing out the window. you prepare yourself for the northeastern beauty to turn into the plains of the midwest, reminding you of a life of before. 

you’re crossing into ohio when he asks, “you like this album?”

slowly, you nod your head. “it was all i would listen to,” you say, remembering who you were before. “maybe jeff buckley’s lucky. to have died before all of this started.”

joel stares at you for a long time. “do you really mean that?”

swallowing, you meet his gaze. do you mean it? “no,” you finally say softly. “there are things that i miss. people i miss. but i don’t think i’d be luckier dead.” you huff a laugh and look back out the window. “if i felt that way, it would be a bit silly to live the way i do.”

“and how do you mean?”

“we fight to live,” you say easily. “we fight to survive. we’re not people who want to give up, even if we pretend we are. being alive is having some hope, contrary to what you may believe.”

“never said i didn’t have hope,” joel begins, his voice all gruff.

“joel, please.” you look over at him and you smirk. “i know you. you may fool other people, but you’re not gonna fool me.”

the two of you fall into an easy silence at that point. there’s nothing pointed about what you said to him, and he doesn’t have any fight in him. he doesn’t want to fight with you, he never does. and, besides– despite what he says, he knows that you’re right.

at some point you fall asleep. you wake up to joel’s hand in your hair, his voice slowly coaxing you awake. you wake with a start, snapping up and looking around. “sorry,” you mumble, the last bits of sleep still clinging onto you for dear life. “didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“s’alright,” he mumbles back to you. “would probably good to stop for the night. we can take turns keeping watch.” he smirks. “it’s your turn first.”

you roll your eyes but he turns the car off and reclines his seat and you can’t help but stare at him. how does anyone expect you to be diligent and alert when you get an opportunity to stare at him uninterrupted? when he opens one eye to look at you you lean back and smile at him, shaking your head. “don’t do that,” you murmur, reaching your hand out and touching his hair, somehow soft still despite everything. “get some sleep.”

joel hums. “keep doin’ that,” he says while your hand is working through his hair. “feels good.”

you’re not going to deny joel what feels good. not for one moment.

–

the days pass faster than you were expecting them to. it’s just you and joel and the open road. occasionally you roll down the window and you stick your head out and let the wind rustle your hair, let jeff buckley fill your ears with his beautiful melodies and you pretend like you and joel are two normal people on a normal road trip together. the one thing that you will never be, you pretend you are.

an ominous quiet grows over you when you pass over the nebraska border. when you see that sign.

joel senses it in you instantly. and for a man who says he’s cold, who says he’s fucked up, who says that he doesn’t know if he can be what you need– you don’t feel that when he lays his big hand on your thigh and squeezes. and he doesn’t make a hasty exit with it, either. no, it lingers there. it stays there until your hand goes and lays on top of his, and only then does his hand turn over and he grasps your fingers. laces them with his own, and his thumb draws across the back of your wrist.

when you look over at him, you don’t see a man who’s fucked up. you see a man who’s fighting an eternal, internal battle with himself, to love and let himself be loved. you’ve been there. hell, you’re there now, fighting your own similar battle. but perhaps your armor is weaker, because this touch has melted you down to the bone and made you forget why you wanted to fight in the first place.

the words beg to release from your mouth. i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you so much i’m willing to risk the safety of not loving another soul.

“we’ll go wherever you need,” he speaks up. “and then we’ll go to omaha.”

with a curt nod of your head, you pull the map out of the glove compartment and you scour it. you see your teeny tiny hometown, and you circle it, passing it back to joel.

instantly, you recognize the way that he takes a turn, towards your home. towards your old life.

it’s in the stirred silence that you say, “they call seward the fourth of july city,” you smile a little bit at the memories. memories of fireworks and the smell of a grill and celebrating a patriotism and nationalism that you would resent every day after september 26th, 2003. “my friends and i used to joke about that city part. seward was barely a town, let alone a city.”

joel watches you intently. you wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “i lost my virginity on the fourth of july.” there’s something glassy behind your eyes. “one year before the outbreak. i was eighteen– all my friends joked that i was a late bloomer, but i didn’t care. my dad was a preacher and i always got teased because i was the cliche. the rebellious, preacher’s daughter. but that night…” your words drift and you suck in a big breath, watching as dusk overtakes the night ahead of you, casting joel in pretty purple hues. “he wasn’t a bad boy. he was kind. and he took care of me.”

“he was in my senior year english class. i was taking ap lit– didn’t even take the ap test. anyway– he had kind brown eyes, and it was his first time, too. we went into one of the cornfields in his truck after a big fire party. there were always the biggest parties on fourth of july, but i just wanted to be with him.” you pause and look out the windshield and his thumb is still a warm feeling over the pulse of your wrist. “we kept seeing each other that summer. but then i went to college and so did he and… well, the rest happened. i don’t know what happened to him. but i like to believe that he’s somewhere out there and when he starts getting nostalgic, he tells his…” you look at joel. “whoever his you is, and he smiles a little. i just hope that.”

he squeezes your wrist, once more, before he lets go to put both hands on the wheel. he pulls off and you recognize that he’s pulling into the parking lot of a boarded up church, and god if that isn’t hilariously ironic. “thank you,” he says after you’re parked, looking right into your eyes. “i hope that, too.”

hope. what a funny thing.

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Lmk ss edits + headcanons, Part 6 (Azure Lion, Peng, Yellowtusk)

(I originally made my own design of Azure and Yellowtusk but wasn't quite happy with how they turned out so I scrapped them, the designs for those two I used in these edits were made by @/erraday_ on twt, with a few minor changes, but Peng's design is my own :) )

- He/Him

- Pansexual

- Snores so loud, it's insane, Yellowtusk once thought there was an earthquake

- Feels bad whenever he's steps on a ladybug, butterfly etc

- Gives everyone and everything giant bear hugs because he thinks if Yellowtusk can take it, so can everyone else (They cannot)

- Mei once gave him catnip as a joke and he went fucking feral, he's not allowed near catnip anymore

- His hair/fur is actually very soft and curly

- Thought he saw an old friend while out in public and hugged them, it was a stranger

- Wakes up Yellowtusk in the middle of the night to ask stupid questions

- The Brotherhood asked to hear his roar but he got really nervous last second and it ended up being really meek, they never let him forget it

- Coughed up a hairball once and Peng refuses to let him live it down

- Has eaten cat food before and would do it again

- Cannot do the splits and is too scared to try

- Gets really confused by modern slang, MK and Mei abuse the hell out of it because it's funny

- Whenever he's rough housing with people he accidentally hits a bit too hard

- Whenever he walks past anyone playing a game that involves a ball (football, basketball, netball, etc) he somehow always ends up getting hit in the head with it

- If he wasn't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid he wouldn't know what the fuck to do and would be really awkward cause he doesn't know how to interact with children, he'd be able to bond with Redson better when he becomes a teenager though

- No one gossips with him because he always ends up unintentionally outing someone about something

- Ate moldy food once by accident and freaked out, he was absolutely disgusted

- Hates horror movies but loves slashers

- Drinks mouthwash

- Smells like catnip (trust me guys)

- Love language is words of affirmation

- Has horrible bed head, his mane gets tangled really easily and he tosses around a lot at night so his mane takes hours to brush out

- Absolutely refuses to wear shoes, they hurt his feet (paws?)

- The type of person to cry over a movie about a dog getting lost and then finding its owner at the end

- Can somehow eat an entire goddamn buffet and not gain a single pound

- His face always scrunches up when he smiles

- Lost his balance on a hill and fell down like a tumbleweed once, Peng still brings it up

- They/He (Canon, Peng uses They/Them in the show but is exclusively referred to w/ He/Him in the sets)

- Nonbinary (Canon)

- Starts squaking when he laughs too much

- If you throw a blanket over their head he'll immediately fall asleep

- "look behind you but don't make it obvious" Looks behind him in the most exaggerated, obvious way known to mankind

- Stole food from Wukong's private stash for several months when the Brotherhood was all still together, Wukong still doesn't know

- Wukong gave them cooked chicken once as a joke but he actually liked it

- Constantly argues with Wukong about Macaque not being able to hold his own, yes it got physical

- Their wings have a bunch of scars from the amount of weapons and shit they block with them. Has to consistently clean their wings in order to keep them from getting too damaged, yes this includes softening and preening his feathers

- If they weren't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid they would tape him to the wall like that one meme and call it a day

- Bit off a person's finger once just to see if they could

- Doesn't shop, just steals

- "I hate you so fucking much" as he's handing the person a gift

-  Tried to draw on Wukong's face once but got wacked with his tail

- Absolutely HATES beetroot, will actually gag if he smells it

- Kicks over kids sand castles at the beach

- Can't stand small buzzing sounds

- "I'm not that competitive" is that competitive

- Claims you can trust them with anything but will snitch the second they know it will benefit them

- Probably threatened to eat someone's baby once

- Goes to playgrounds to trip kids

- Smells like Lavender, it just feels right

- Love language is words of affirmation and acts of service

- Has tried sleeping upside down like a bat multiple times

- Hardcore wine aunt vibes

- Had a bunch of ducklings accidently imprinted to him and they followed Peng for hours

- You'd have to pin this bird down to get them to eat collyflower

- Jokingly pushed Azure off a cliff once then remembered they're the only member of the Camel Ridge Trio that can fly

- They have full on concerts at like 3 am, has woken up Azure on multiple occasions

- He/Him

- AroAce

- Is the calmest one in the Brotherhood

- He uses Peng's head as an armrest sometimes

- He and DBK were actually quite close, he knew and accepted that DBK was in love with a celestial but was very surprised to see they ended up having a child

- Very poor eyesight but doesn't like wearing his glasses because Peng made a joke about them once saying he looked like a grandma

- Uses ":3" and ":D"

- Loves soap opera's

- Hates seafood

- Peng once tricked him into eating fish nuggets once and he still hasn't fully forgiven them

- If he wasn't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid he would definitely be the most responsible one, and probably Redson's favourite uncle

- Eats a snack then forgets he ate it and will bet frustrated when he can't find it

- The therapist of the Camel Ridge Trio, and probably of the whole Brotherhood in the past as well

- Was the only one who felt bad about imprisoning the Demon Bull Family since he and DBK were very close

- He also reprimanded Peng for when they pinned and scratched Redson with their claws after they left the Demon Bull Palace (he's the protective uncle, trust me guys)

- Hates getting hiccups, he despises the feeling and it gives him heartburn

- Wakes up at ungodly hours just to raid the fridge

- Heard a story about a bug crawling in someone's ear while they slept and has worn earplugs to bed ever since

- Loves apples

- Smells like Lilies

- Love language is gift giving

- Is really big on safety, would be the type of person to make sure everyone is wearing their seat belts before the car is even turned on

- Actually really good at cooking

- Makes the best chocolate chip pancakes ever

- Is the kind of person who assumes everyone tells eachother everything and accidently exposes someone because he thought everyone else knew about it already

- Always hears things wrong but doesn't wanna ask anyone to repeat themselves

- Has the most elegant ass handwriting you will ever see, somehow

- The peacemaker of the Brotherhood,  they all would've disbanded way sooner if it wasn't for him

- Uses his trunk as a snorkle when swimming or sleeping underwater (elephants actually do this irl, I just thought it was cute)

[ichorai]

a forgotten sweater ; theon greyjoy (m).

art by @shebsart!

pairing ; modern!theon greyjoy x reader (afab / no pronouns mentioned)

synopsis ; in which you go to fetch the sweater you had forgotten last time you and theon fucked. and this time, you most definitely weren't going to fuck him again.

words ; 1.6k

themes ; literally just smut LMFAO, modern au, college au, basically fwb au but reader doesn't want to admit it

warnings / includes ; unprotected piv sex, creampie, foul language, theon wears batman boxers, poor robb must be traumatized, physical descriptions for theon follow book canon, not the show!

There was just something about him. Something that kept you coming back for more each and every time, even though you always swore you would never touch him again. Theon was not your type, not in the slightest… but, God, he was mind-numbingly good in bed. 

“We’re not sleeping together,” you had assured him when you stopped by his dorm to pick up a sweater you’d forgotten from the last time the two of you tangled together. His dormmate, Robb, had overheard your blunt words from the kitchen, and flushed a bright shade of crimson before quietly excusing himself to his own bedroom.

Theon handed you your sweater and shrugged in a manner he hoped came off as I don’t care. “Fine.”

“Thanks,” you said, clutching your sweater to your chest. “I hope we can still be friends—” Not that you were ever really close friends to begin with—Robb's girlfriend had been the one to introduce the two of you to each other. You were more distant acquaintances than anything. That also just so happened to occasionally have sex.

“With benefits?” he asked, seeming to perk up at the thought. All efforts of nonchalance were thrown to the wind. 

“If benefits mean someone to accompany you to a fast food restaurant or pick you up when you’re drunk, I can do that. Sexual benefits, though…” you trailed off, shaking your head with a grimace. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Theon stepped closer to you. “But why?” he just about whined. “I want you. I want you again, baby. The sex was good for you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but—”

“I made you cum, didn’t I? More than once, if I can remember correctly.”

“Theon—”

His hand jutted out as he began to list off, “Once with my tongue, another on my fingers, and who knows how many on my co—”

“Theon!” you exclaimed, jerking forward to slam a hand over his mouth, worried Robb was still around to overhear such filth. “God, you can’t… I don’t…” 

Whatever you wanted to say, you couldn’t recall your own thoughts anymore, because Theon was staring at you with such burning want. His eyes were hooded and his gaze so lustful you could just about feel your resolve crumbling that very second. His skin was so warm under your hands…

“I’m not sleeping with you again,” you whispered, more to convince yourself than him.

“Fine,” he replied, muffled from behind your palm. 

Five minutes later, the two of you had stumbled into his room and you had hastily shed your clothes. Before you knew it, you were situated on top of him with his dick already sliding inside of you. 

Theon let out a loud moan—a choked, hissy sort of sound—and his forehead fell forward so that it rested just between your breasts as your warm walls clenched tightly around his shaft. Prior to you sinking down on him, he'd been so hard he was aching, all aroused throbs and angry red tips and drips of precum.

He looked up at you with dark eyes, glossy with lust and deliberately nipped at one of your tits. Flashes of his teeth and tongue laving over your skin made you close your eyes and hum out a broken sound. There was no movement on your end, not yet, but his hands moved further downwards, from resting on your hips to digging the pads of his fingers into the flesh of your ass.

Then, without warning, Theon jerked you up enough just so his tip could stay inside you, and slammed back inside just as quickly. A yelp echoed across the room, and your hands scrambled up to clutch and Theon's hair. You tugged at the dark strands, just the way you knew he liked, which earned you a string of moans as he began bouncing you on his cock. The lewd, squelching noises that ricocheted off of each desperate thrust made your cheeks burn fiery hot.

“Ah—don't clench around me so hard,” Theon warned breathlessly, brows knitted. “I'll cum too quick, baby, you feel too—haaah—you feel too good.”

“Fuck me, Theon, please,” you said, rolling your hips forward against his. “Please, please, please…”

Your litany of pleas faded into a low moan as Theon began drilling his cock into you, eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

“You’re so wet, holy shi—it.” His voice broke in his fervor. “Feels so good baby, I could die like this.”

“Please don’t,” you said against his hair. “Rub my clit before you do.”

“Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he whined, one of his hands letting go of your ass to slither over your hip and rub sloppy, wet shapes over your sensitive clit. His touch made you jump closer to him, unsure to flinch towards or away from the searing pleasure. 

Theon shifted his angle so that he could pound into you impossibly deeper. You felt him hit just the right spot inside you, sending you into a bucking, scratching frenzy. The delicious pain of your nails going down his back seemed only to spur him on.

“Oh, fuck—Theon, wait—I’m going to—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you were gushing around him, your cunt spasming tightly around his throbbing cock, your toes curling against his bed sheets soiled. 

“Yeah, fucking cum on this dick. Fuck, you feel so good. Ten minutes ago you were telling me you didn’t want me—now look at you, baby,” he crooned. He was still drilling into you despite your mumbles of it being too much. Theon was no gentleman—but he knew you liked it that way.  “I’m not stopping. Fuck—yeah, baby, you’ll take it for me, won’t you? You’ll take it all, yes.”

He was practically snarling at that point. His teeth were sinking into your shoulder and all you could do was let him fuck you and bite you and grip at you. The pleasure never ebbed away, not with his fingers still toying with your clit. 

“I need you again,” he muttered, licking a hot, wet stripe up your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, moaning out a complaint that fell against deaf ears. “This can’t be the last time, baby, no. Pussy feels too fucking good, oh my God. Tell me this won’t be the last.”

There was no pause to his thrusts, but Theon did go silent for a minute, gnashing his teeth together as he awaited your response. When there came none, he swatted at your ass and you choked on a gasp.

“It won’t be the last, fuck—!” you bit out, slamming your hips down in tandem with his. You could already feel your second orgasm begin to creep up on you.

He shifted the angle once more and buried his cock fast and deep into your sopping cunt as if his life depended on it. The noises were squelching and lewd, you could feel the tips of your ears burning. 

“You close?” he asked.

“Mhm.” You nodded vehemently. “Don’t stop.”

And he didn’t, not for what felt like hours and hours, when realistically it was only a few minutes. Theon groaned in a broken, breathless rhythm, mumbling that he was going to cum. His fingers worked faster at your clit, and that was when you broke. You shuddered around him, clenching like a damn vice. He was loud when he came, so loud that you knew for certain Robb could probably hear the two of you, and you shoved his head down against your shoulder so that his moans were muffled into your skin. You could feel his hot spend inside of you, already dripping and leaking into the mixture of your arousal creaming between your thighs. 

“Fuck,” Theon said as he eased himself out of you. He couldn’t help but slap his cock against your sensitive clit, sharply laughing when you jerked away from the touch and glared at him.

You stood up and began to collect your scattered articles of clothing on wobbly legs, chest still rising and falling rapidly. You could feel his cum dribble down quicker now that you were standing. 

The impish grin Theon was wearing fell away when you said, “This is not happening again.”

He looked ready to throw himself at the ground and grovel for your pussy again. For some sick reason, the thought excited you. It didn’t sit well with you that you were just as perverted as he was. 

“What can I say to get you to change your mind?” He was hopping on one leg towards you as he pulled on a pair of boxers. Batman-patterned boxers, you noted with amusement. You hadn’t even noticed that when he was undressing earlier. God, he was such a fucking loser.

You spared him a genuine smile, before leaning forward to kiss his lower cheek, which was scratchy with dark stubble. In all of the times the two of you have fucked, which was upwards of a dozen times now, the two of you had kissed plenty of times—but never before or after. Theon blinked at you with big, dopey eyes. 

“Bye, Theon,” you said, choosing not to give him an answer to his question.

He watched in silence as you slipped on your shirt, and high-tail out of his room. He scratched the back of his neck and let out a big sigh—then spotted the forgotten sweater you had carelessly thrown onto his messy desk.

A lopsided smile tugged at his lips. Yeah, this was definitely happening again.

[l0velylecter]

Phillip graves head canons? :)

—  headcanons on phillip graves ( sfw & nsfw ) pairing : phillip graves / gn! reader fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii rating : g for general and safe for work (sfw!) for the first half + e for explicit, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) for the second half warnings : graphic descriptions of sex in the second half  note : font is normal sized under the cut 

safe for work ( sfw )

01 | He hates sleeping with the blankets around his neck, and in general, when the weather gets even slightly humid, he'd tear the sheets off his body. Phillip falls asleep very quickly, especially when you're around. Mid-sentence, you'd look down to your lap, and he'd have his eyes closed, breathing: soft and even. You find him passed out on the couch, on the chair by the patio. He prefers to have you with your head atop his chest, your hand absentmindedly stroking, soothing it in soft, gentle circles. The only downside is when he's away, he takes longer to sleep: thumb absentmindedly stroking the space above his heart.

02| Physical touch is his love language. Hand holding, fingers intertwined as you walk side by side. He'd occasionally lift your knuckles against his lips, palm flat across your cheeks to raise your head for a kiss — fingers, followed by his mouth, ghosting down your spine, your arm, your nape. He'd stretch across the bed to pinch ( never too roughly) the side of your thigh, already playful and eager to pick on you (lovingly) even when you've just swung your legs over the bed, barely awake with a bedhead he loves to ruffle. When you're next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, and you shift forward to leave, Phillip always asks where you're going. Under your touch, he melts — he blooms: stripped off his armor, he lays himself bare to you. Unashamed and indulgent.

03| He drives with the window slightly cracked open at the top. He likes the feel of the wind skimming his hair, his skin. In his blue cotton button-down, sleeves rolled up his arms. When under the heat of the southern afternoon, he always has sunglasses on — Dita Flight.006 with the frames thin and shades tinted. You know he hates driving alone, and even if he never tells you outwardly, he prefers to have you in the passenger seat. With the radio on and the two of you trying to snap your fingers to the beat, Phillip fails to get it right on purpose so he can see you laugh. With his accent, thick and unrestrained when he's back home, you call him a country hick. He doesn't deny it.

04| Out of his uniform, Phillip is impulsive and flies by the seat of his pants — a man who despises boredom and being alone. He never sugarcoats; sure, he loves using colorful phrases that leave you blinking at the incredulously of it, but if the man has offended you or hurt your feelings, there's a high chance that he won't notice unless you tell him. To Phillip, you're just having a conversation, and Phillip's usually more concerned with whether you caught his drift than yours. Yet, shortcomings aside, he bleeds and breathes confidence; commands authority with just the flick of his wrist. You know Phillip tries, and it shows. After every argument, when you finally find the strength to open the door, he'd be right outside: back against the wall with his legs outstretched, waiting, patient, even if he's constantly watching the clock. He makes you feel valued, protected, and appreciated: he keeps you on your toes, and you can never hate him.

not safe for work ( nsfw & mdni ! )

01| Even when you fuck, his arrogance is still there, simmering beneath the surface, occasionally leaking through the gaps to bleed into the way he kisses you. He loves having you bent over tables, against walls, and pressed against the driver’s seat. He loves to suck, to bite, to mark. He's not against being rough with you, but he never crosses the line. When Phillip is always eager to try new things and experiment — to push, to challenge, to drive you past your limits, to have you whining, crying out against his chest, a safeword is always ready. Spanking, ropes, cuffs, maybe even a daddy or authority kink if you squint. He's a dom, and he likes to tease. But he's open to being a switch; as I said, the man's adventurous.

02| But Graves isn't just about fucking. Most of the time, when he sees you for the first time in weeks, in months, he'd spread your legs almost gently, slowly, each movement careful as if to savor the moment. He's warm and desperate inside of you — going on and on about how he's missed you: lips brushing the shell of your ear. His arm, caging you underneath him, the muscles down his back, taught and tired from work. And when he comes, he’d be kissing you: deep, open-mouthed kisses,  in a rare yet not unwelcomed show of slow-burn passion.

03| Big on dirty talk. This man cannot shut up, even in bed. Even with his face pressed against your weeping hole, he’s spewing out filth: sinful and wicked, you can feel the edge of his teeth skim your inner thigh. Leaving you to trap his head between your legs as they quiver.

" What's the matter, baby?" He'd chuckle, mocking how you can only pant and whine against the pillow as he pistons in and out of you, " Cat got your tongue?"

Cursing, groaning, whimpering: we all know this man can get vocal. 

04| Phillip might lack common emotional sense, but he's not cruel, and most importantly, he's not stupid. Most of the time, aftercare involves a warm shower before passing out on the bed together, and when your legs wobbled: still sore and aching, he'd carry you under the shower head to support you with his body. You can feel his smile against your temple, somewhat apologetic, only to make up for how smug it made him feel. He'll dry your hair and give your ass a light smack before settling atop the bed, arms already finding their way around your waist.

a/n : thanks for requesting anon ! this was really fun for me to do as i am currently having a phillip graves brainrot 🥴i base a lot of his personality traits from his mbti : estp ! + the sunglasses featured here is actually the same sunglasses tony stark uses in civil war ( it’s ray band, and considering how patriotic graves is, he probably refuses to buy glasses from anywhere else. i mean i bet his car is even a black, ford pickup ) i hope you enjoy <3 

[izvmimi]

summer masquerade - yuuta x reader

cw: long-distance relationship. canon-compliant. one mention of underage drinking. reader without cursed technique but can see cursed energy. reader implied to be of african descent. assumption that yuuta speaks limited english. a/n: a masquerade is the act of spiritual performance, often to chase away spirits or for political commentary. this starts in the time yuuta spends overseas in africa traveling the continent

A hot summer afternoon, years now in the past, Yuuta Okkotsu first sets eyes on you through the veneer of dust kicked up by frenzied footsteps, soulful ululations and the beating of drums that seemed to never cease, but you’ve been watching him long before he notices you, or at least demonstrates that he’s noticed you. Out of a clay bowl, you’re sipping on palm wine despite being clearly underage, but your parents are far at the other end of the crowd and will not notice, and once you’re deep in the brush, in the less strictly governed remote village where superstition and ritual reign, you’ve decided those kind of silly rules don’t really apply to you anymore. After all, you never want to come to these events, but you come from a family that honors tradition despite living in an ultra-modern mansion in the capital, and thus your presence at the masquerade is indispensable.

But Yuuta Okkotsu’s is not. 

The two of you find yourself locked in an unspoken standoff of some sort. It’s difficult to read his expression, but his large dark blue eyes are looking straight at you, barely squinting in the hot overhead sun. You try to discern what he’s saying with his look, if it screams Stop looking at me versus I invite you to speak your mind, before deciding your next move, but it’s quickly evident that your only chance to answer the question is to ask. You hope you don’t look hostile because that’s not your intention in any way but he sticks out terribly, like a sore thumb, with his slightly bronzed but still pale skin, straight dark hair and his hoodie despite the sweltering heat. 

He’s clearly a foreigner. It’s not good for foreigners to be at these types of masquerades. Bad juju, you think.

You tut to yourself then sip your drink one more time and decide to approach, wondering if the two languages at your disposal including English, will be sufficient to communicate. Most foreigners understand some English, after all. Yuuta doesn’t learn this from you until years later, but the first time you met him, you’d started wishing you were more worldly, so that you could speak to him in his native tongue, and he would tell you that he wished he was better at yours.

The then-teenager watches you approach with the type of curiosity one offers a person who is not yet a threat but can potentially be. From the way that you’re looking at him, you’re not hostile, and your smile is polite, but it’s not all the way warm, although he can imagine that you do have the capacity to smile warmly, to the right people. 

“Hi,” you start. Your voice is honeyed sweet, and he doesn’t reply immediately but his facial expression goes from disaffected to flustered quickly, as though he didn’t actually expect you to walk up to him despite your visual exchange. You tilt your head slightly, wondering if he doesn’t speak English, but quickly you hear another voice next to you. 

An older man, African but clearly not your countryman, and he raises an eyebrow at you. You’ll learn later that his name is Miguel, despite being from Kenya, and you won’t ask more details past that.

“Can I help you?” He’s also speaking in English, with a slight British lilt to it. You blink, surprised, then look back at your age-mate then back at him.

“Are you two together?” you ask. 

The two of them immediately appear to not be on the same wavelength - one says yes, and the other says no - and you anticipate that it’s like this often. You soon find out that you’re right - Yuuta recounts that those years touring Africa with him were sink or swim, where he was more of an unwitting, hapless intern, rather than a lauded apprentice.

The way Miguel says no at the same time Yuuta says yes makes you giggle loudly, probably due to the warming of your skin from palm wine and your appropriately low tolerance, and Yuuta’s face seems to warm as though empathetically, the blush in his own cheeks less subtle.

Yuuta blushes often, even now, and it will forever be one of your favorite things about him.

“Are you from this village?” Miguel asks. You technically are, but you’re technically not, in some ways as much of a foreigner as they are. He’s information-gathering, clearly, and it intrigues you, but it’s not the only thing that does.

Your eyes draw quickly to the younger person’s hands. 

“Yes, but remotely,” you reply to Miguel, then point to Yuuta’s left ring finger. 

“You have a contract, don’t you? With a spirit.” you ask, and that simple question is where it all begins.

At the time you knew nothing about cursed energy, nothing about the world Yuuta lived in, that Miguel lived in, that you were just on the periphery of, but one thing was true. You could see spirits, ever since you were young and you could see a particularly strong one, emanating from that ring. Formless, but present and unmistakable. Yuuta looks at you with surprise.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies in accented English. You don’t argue with him, instead turning to the dancers. The masquerade in their elaborate costume has started to whip at people’s feet and many are clearing the compound in fear and laughter. The three of you do not move. There are no real spirits here, aside from the one that is linked to Yuuta Okkotsu. 

“I always knew they were frauds,” you joke as you watch the being that’s supposed to dispel evil spirits not turn one glance in your direction. Yuuta doesn’t understand your joke from the furrow in his eyebrow but when he looks at you now, it’s with curiosity rather than apprehension but you’d rather know more about him. He’s the real deal.

—

Miguel doesn’t get as much useful information as he can about your clan as he hopes when your family welcomes him like long lost brethren in your compound in the city just a week later. Yuuta listens intently and speaks carefully, and you wonder how much of it is his personality and how much of it is a language barrier. Miguel drinks all of your father’s finest beer and asks you to fetch groundnuts like you’re his own daughter and it annoys you, a joyous reprieve when your parents ask you to take Yuuta out on the city and come back in a couple of hours. Trailing a Japanese boy on the timid end whose heart and soul is impossibly linked with a monster is not what you’d intended on this summer, but it remains one of the most memorable summers of your life. 

He tells you about Rika over skewered suya from the street merchants, and you don’t bat an eyelash as you chew, and tease him about her. 

“Will she eat me if I’m too nice to you?”

“Rika doesn’t eat people,” he defends. The spooky monsters of your country are always hungry - eating adults, kids, children, the like. You nod, popping the cap of a bottle of soda on the edge of a table. You miss and pout, and Yuuta, to your surprise, takes it for you, repeating the motion but successfully. 

You look at the underside of the cap and lament the lack of prizes. Yuuta watches you drink the soda, and neglects his own malt drink.

“You can keep being nice to me,” he mentions before the night ends, as though the reminder is crucial, as if it hasn’t been hours since you made your joke. Miguel doesn’t hear him, drunk and boisterous, thumping your father’s back a little too hard. Yuuta’s attention is back to his companion before he can notice that your cheeks are warming again, and this time not from the alcohol. 

—

Yuuta leaves your country, then soon your continent and you don’t think you’ll ever see him again, just wisps of him every time you see a vengeful spirit in the distance and pray that it behaves before you call onto your family to dispel them, but months pass and you receive that first email. 

He’s awkward with his words, a few of his phrases don’t make complete sense and you can tell the thesaurus is up in another internet browser as he asks you how you’re doing, but you reply kindly just the same, and he’s better through text, better still through video chat.

Yuuta starts off telling you little, but soon he doesn’t skimp on the details of his frankly terrifying life and in some ways you wish he would, but Rika protects him and he’s strong in his own right. You learn of all his friends, deaths and not; you learn of all his triumphs and his failures. Your heart flutters with every email, mostly because you're glad he's still alive.

That's just part of it.

Yuuta comes to see you again when you’re on the cusp of turning 21, and it’s the second time he’s come to see you, but the first time he’s come alone, without Miguel flanking, without the pretense of dispelling spirits and getting stronger.

He’s there for you, and only you. 

You no longer live in West Africa but instead in Europe, in a small apartment that you’re lucky to afford while furthering your education, and your Japanese is now middling but enough to make him laugh. 

He still speaks to you in English, improved over years of vid and voice chat.

“Happy birthday” is whispered over lit candles and followed by your first real kiss. 

— 

Rika doesn’t eat you, regardless of how kind you are to Yuuta over the next few years. 

The day before your wedding, you press your forehead against hers and thank her for protecting him all this time, you thank her for meeting him first. She doesn’t make a single sound, but as you press your hands against her monstrous face, you can feel the wetness of her tears before she vanishes. You’re unsure if she’s just as thankful for you as you are for her, but you love her just the same.

You touch down to the country where you first met just hours later to begin the traditional portion of the wedding and your father asks Yuuta to bring his ‘village’ - Gojo, Miguel, Maki, Toge, Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara, among others, touch down before the end of the night. 

Yuuta does not like the taste of palm wine but chases it down with the taste of your lips by the end of the ceremony, which he finds much sweeter.

—

Your wedding band sits in the same spot as Yuuta’s childhood promise ring, one enveloped by the other. You hiss as your ring finger slips and you accidentally drop a box, Yuuta’s faster reflexes catching it before it makes it to the ground. 

“Shit, sorry,” you pout and he smiles, patting your cheek gently.

“Just be careful okay, sweetheart?”

You’ve lived in Japan for three years now, settling in two years before you got married and now moving from your first home to this new one. Housewarming gifts abound and are waiting to be unpacked, and you and Yuuta have been working tirelessly to organize everything before your friends burst into your house and ask you why there are boxes settled as high as the ceiling in one corner of your living room.

You glance at Yuuta as he tries to decide the best position for his katana, holding it in his right hand. Finding your way over to rest your chin on his shoulder, you whisper in his ear,

“Let’s take a break, actually.”

Yuuta turns and looks at you, a gentle tilt of the head appraising how serious you are before he chuckles to himself.

“You know, Maki will literally not let us hear the end of it if this place is messy when she gets here.”

Despite this, he’s following you to the couch which is the only piece of furniture you have set up now. The two of you plop down and Yuuta sighs in relief, and soon you’ve rearranged your positions, and your head now lays in his lap as he pets your hair.

A moment passes where the two of you relax, your breaths synchronized as your pulse slow, and then suddenly Yuuta speaks.

“Thank you.” 

“For what?” you ask. Your eyes flicker up to his, and he leans down to look at you more closely, a soft smile on his face.

“For approaching me first.”

You blink, then laugh.

“It’s been over a decade.”

“Still thankful,” he replies. You stop, your gaze steadying as you look at him, your heart rate picking up in speed, your soul calling out to him again. There’s an unspoken standoff of some sort, once again, but Yuuta moves first this time, his lips pressing to yours.

If you hadn’t approached him that day, the ten years of your life would have been different. Your chin tilts upward as you kiss him more, your hands cupping his face, then wrapping around his neck.

“I love you.”

Neither first nor in any way expected, but true nonetheless.