Oh Body Horror I Love You So Much

so cute

She Keeps Me Warm - Rhaenyra Targaryen

nyrathecruel asked: Could I request Rhaenyra x handmaiden!reader where they’re drawn to each other from the moment they meet and bond over their mutual trust issues regarding losing loved ones while slowly falling in love on Dragonstone? Like Nyra is cold and distant with everyone else, hesitant to let anyone in, but she just clicks with reader and whenever they’re alone, Nyra just melts and goes all soft, all affectionate touches and sweet nicknames and tender looks? (Two of my fav nicknames she’d call reader are: my little one, and Perzītsos (little flame) Maybe even a bit of soft smut, though it doesn’t have to be smut if you’re not comfortable

Anonymous asked: Could you do a Rhaenyra x fem stark reader pls :)

A/N: I had TWO IDEAS for these requests! So stay tuned for another fic publishing soon!

They were not well-kept secrets, Daemon’s unsavory proclivities. So, in turn, Rhaenyra went to neither effort to hide her misery nor how you, a simple handmaiden from the North, seemed to be its only remedy. 

“Enter, perzītsos. He has gone.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the low sound of Rhaenyra’s voice and you pulled your ever-listening ear from the ironwood door. Your hand, fumbling with the wiry giddiness of a lightning bolt, found the cool handle and pushed with a turn. Tongues of yellow and orange greeted you with licks of diminished warmth along with the sight of Rhaenyra, bathed in the same glow. She sat, body spread and extended over the plush armchair before the fireplace.

“Apologies, my Princess, I did not wish to intrude on-”

“What have I told you?” 

Her voice was low still, her eyes still fixed on the dwindling flames, as she addressed you. Heat rushed up to your face and washed down like the tides of the Narrow Sea. Your mouth opened slightly before you closed it, your muscles suddenly all-too-alive. Luckily, the Princess of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne, clarified. 

“You must call me Rhaenyra,” she turned to you then, light eyes darkened by the colors of fire and smiling softly. “I will not have you hiding behind formality or dutiful, Northern niceties.”

“Apologies,” you echoed, swallowing hard. “I did not wish to intrude on your lawful husband…having you.” 

Rhaenyra’s smile faded, ebbed into a flatline of stone sternness you recognized from meetings with the maester. “He left before dusk on Caraxes, an hour or so before by which I told you to arrive. There was no having of any sort.”

She moved to her feet then, her shoes knocking against the heated stone floor of her chambers as she approached you like the Blood Wyrm in her crimson gown. Her eyes were squinted slightly, focused on you, your face, reading how your eyes slowly widened with her every careful step. It was the same manner in which she approached you the first time: calculated, a predator eyeing prey. The lightning returned again, sending you into a brewing storm that culminated in Rhaenyra’s lips.

When she stood full before you, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the column of your neck. Your breath hitched immediately, and trepidation caught in your throat.

“Princess,” you whispered, though it sounded more like a gasp. Rhaenyra immediately pulled away from your neck, revealing her furrowed brow and playful scowl. “I still do not understand.”

“My perzītsos, what more is there to understand?” Her hands raced up the bodice of your gown to your neck. Her hands were warm dancing along your most sensitive skin. 

“Prince Daemon-” “Is off sowing dragonseed,” Rhaenyra said, though the ease with which she used the term alarmed you. “Just as my court remains adrift gathering council. All men, all cold, making me colder and I will not have that. I will have you.”

Rhaenyra pressed her lips back against your neck, closer to your jaw. You shivered again, your body knocking against hers instinctively, careening into her warmth. The tip of her nose tickled your skin as her lips went lower, nipping at your collarbone. Your hands rose to her waist, the whaleboning of her corset bodice. Beneath the fabric, you could feel her breathing grow more erratic. Your own breathing grew shallow with excitement, so much so that you pushed the Princess gently away. 

She gave you a worried look, her hands caressing your flushed cheek. “Do you not wish to have me?”

White hot, dragon fire panic shot through your veins. “No, no, I-”

But Rhaenyra was recoiling despite your manic clarification, already reigning in herself, her want. She was cooling into her hardened self, the soul sent off to Dragonstone by the eyes of the critical court in King’s Landing. You had seen it too many times before. How practiced Rhaenyra was as holding parts of herself back.

You reached out, just as she had, with your lips finding her neck first and your hands on her gowned hips. She was stiff under your touch but for a moment until she quickly melted into you as your mouth moved up. You pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek before pulling away, eager to see her pleased, unworried; eager to see the Rhaenyra she only seemed to show you.

“I don’t understand what it means,” you breathed out, not entirely knowing what you yourself meant, only that whatever it was made your heart sing.

Rhaenyra seemed to reach and read the most clouded part of your mind, obscured to even you. Her smile returned in glorious full and you felt your heart tickle in your chest. In turn, you felt your own lips quirk upwards, ready to swallow the newness of it all.

“You mean perzītsos?”

You nodded, unsure at first, but, sure in how it made Rhaenyra smile.

“Perzītsos. Little flame. You burn in me. You keep me warm,” Rhaenyra softened, then, her smile ebbing ever-so-slightly. “In the darkest moments, you keep me alive.”

Without wasting another second lost in the storm, you barreled through and crashed your lips into Rhaenyra’s. It felt like you were falling until you actually were as Rhaenyra pulled you down onto the silken sheets of her bed, and the rest was warm.

It's like a fever, I'm burning alive

Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You discover that Rhaenyra went to King's Landing and things don't go well.

Word Count: 1,3K

Warning: ANGST, mentions of war, mentions of deaths, mentions of betrayal, mentions of child deaths, power imbalance, brief sex, nipple sucking, lesbian sex.

note: this story is new and is also available on my AO3.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

You hurriedly walked through the halls, holding the skirt of your simple dress. Your heart was pounding harder and harder and your anxiety didn't lessen when you saw one of the doors to the Queen's chambers in Dragonstone. Giving a nod of complicity to the royal guard, you opened the heavy door and looked around restlessly, looking for any sign of silver hair, but in vain, the place was empty.

Placing your hands over your chest to try and calm the pounding of your heart, you began to pace from side to side, your vision becoming blurred by the tears that began to appear. This couldn't be happening, she couldn't have been so foolish to consider doing something like that.

She went to King's Landing. Accompanied only by a guard.

The information came from Elinda and you still couldn't believe what your Queen had done. She was not the type to take risks without any reason, she made wise and coherent decisions.

You waited for hours, sitting in a place on the floor where you could hardly be seen if the main door to the rooms opened, it got dark and you only realized it when you heard the sound of the door opening. You stood up abruptly to see who it was and sighed in relief when you saw that it was your beloved queen.

Bowing slightly and approached hesitantly, your eyes passing anxiously and desperately over her entire figure, looking for any injuries, the ones she received when Ser Arryk invaded her rooms in a cowardly attack were enough. She looked at you in a mixture of surprise and relief to see you there, as if your presence was a medicine. You frowned when you noticed the septa robes she was wearing.

"Did you really do what I was told you did?" you asked, the knot in your stomach growing with each word that left your mouth. "Did you go see that snake in King's Landing?"

"I needed to talk to Alicent about the latest events, clarify things." She walked across the large room and began taking off her clothes, throwing them on top of one of the dark wooden chairs.

"To clarify?" you asked, the situation sounding unbelievable to your ears. "And what is there to clarify? She took your throne to give to her son."

"Her grandson was murdered in his bed while he slept and she thought I had ordered such a transgression." She was left with just her thin cloth intimate dress, turned to you and held her hands in front of her, twirling her wedding ring nervously. "I couldn't be at peace if–"

"Peace?!" You widen your eyes slightly, in disbelief. "I was there, Rhaenyra, I saw the procession. She was sitting as she was paraded with the corpse of her grandson, do you know what one of the court members said? They called you cruel, a monster, a defiler of the innocent. There is no peace anymore."

She sighed and sat down on the dark lounge chair, turned her face toward the large fireplace and fell silent.

"Her other son murdered your son, Lucerys was a messenger, this is treason." you keep talking. "Don't you understand yet? It's only you who cares, she doesn't care. Aegon doesn't care."

"I made a promise to my father and I intend to keep it, I will not rule with unnecessary killings and deaths." she finally turned to face you again. "Both the Dowager Queen and I have lost loved ones in recent weeks. I thought we could come together in our grief."

You sighed to contain your rising anger. Rhaenyra was too complacent, the greens wouldn't stop until they had her head to govern without her interference and she still didn't see that.

"You could have been killed." you take a few steps and lean on the wooden back of one of the chairs.

"I was careful and took one of the guards with me, no one knew it was me." she kept her purple eyes sharp in your direction.

"You must think you're so smart, but you were just a fool." you found yourself saying. "A fool who clings to the past, a past with a person who was never your friend."

"It is not foolish to seek all ways to peace!" She raises her voice, a few veins poking out slightly on her neck. "Understand me, you know me as well as I know you, don't be gratuitously hostile."

"If you act like a fool then I'll treat you like one!" you raised your voice too, gripping the wood tightly. "The people of King's Landing believe you are a baby killer, they would dismember you if they knew you were there!"

"I'm still your queen, remember that." she spat.

You felt a violent knot in your stomach and took a few steps back, lowering your head, swallowing hard and clasping your hands humbly in front of your body.

"May I go now, Your Grace?" you asked, eyes fixed on the stone floor.

"No." she replied and got up from the lounger, walking in long strides towards you.

She stopped inches from touching your body completely and pulled your hands into hers, they were warm and welcoming, as always. Rhaenyra leans in and rubs the side of her face against yours, her aquiline nose caressing your cheek, you closed your eyes and leaned against her.

"Stand by my side, I have enough people disagreeing with me, all the time." she pulled back and looked at you closely. "I don't want to have arguments with you either."

You looked down at your joined hands, the symbol of your bond with Rhaenyra. You had been by her side for so many years, you didn't want your close relationship to be ruined. You were afraid of losing her in this horrendous war, the constant search for peace could kill her.

"I got scared." You admitted, eyes still fixed on your clasped hands. "I came running as soon as Elinda told me, I was hoping you hadn't done such a thing."

"If I make a decision in the future that is risky, I will have the decency to ask you what you think first." She said and you looked up, locking your eyes with hers.

"No need to do that, Your Grace." you caress her slender fingers. "Seek peace, if that is what torments you, but do not perish along the way."

She nodded slightly and kept her eyes fixed on your face, smiled slightly and tilted her face even closer to yours.

"I miss you so much, you haven't been here often." she says, voice turning velvety.

She didn't need to say anything else, you tilted your face up and pressed your lips against hers, your eager tongue invading your dragon queen's mouth in a hurry, you kissed your lover hungrily until she ran out of air, your desperate hands tracing the slim curves beneath the almost transparent nightgown. Your mouth didn't stop when you pulled away for air, you continued trailing kisses across her face, down to her neck.

You bit and kissed her milky skin neck, and continued moving down until you reached her favorite part, but she pulled away and you looked at her in confusion.

"Not standing, to bed." she said breathlessly and you hurriedly pulled her towards the bed, laid her down and leaned on your elbows on top of her.

Rhaenyra took the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to you. She lay down completely and looked at you expectantly. You let out a soft moan as you saw your beloved queen expose herself to you.

You leaned forward and pulled her right breast into your mouth, then pinched her nipples with your lips, your tongue grazing against the sensitive, hard nipple. She couldn't help but whimper. She put her hands on the back of your head and pulled you into her chest.

You buried your face in her breasts, you could spend your whole life pleasuring your queen.

It's like a fever, I'm burning alive

Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You discover that Rhaenyra went to King's Landing and things don't go well.

Word Count: 1,3K

Warning: ANGST, mentions of war, mentions of deaths, mentions of betrayal, mentions of child deaths, power imbalance, brief sex, nipple sucking, lesbian sex.

note: this story is new and is also available on my AO3.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

You hurriedly walked through the halls, holding the skirt of your simple dress. Your heart was pounding harder and harder and your anxiety didn't lessen when you saw one of the doors to the Queen's chambers in Dragonstone. Giving a nod of complicity to the royal guard, you opened the heavy door and looked around restlessly, looking for any sign of silver hair, but in vain, the place was empty.

Placing your hands over your chest to try and calm the pounding of your heart, you began to pace from side to side, your vision becoming blurred by the tears that began to appear. This couldn't be happening, she couldn't have been so foolish to consider doing something like that.

She went to King's Landing. Accompanied only by a guard.

The information came from Elinda and you still couldn't believe what your Queen had done. She was not the type to take risks without any reason, she made wise and coherent decisions.

You waited for hours, sitting in a place on the floor where you could hardly be seen if the main door to the rooms opened, it got dark and you only realized it when you heard the sound of the door opening. You stood up abruptly to see who it was and sighed in relief when you saw that it was your beloved queen.

Bowing slightly and approached hesitantly, your eyes passing anxiously and desperately over her entire figure, looking for any injuries, the ones she received when Ser Arryk invaded her rooms in a cowardly attack were enough. She looked at you in a mixture of surprise and relief to see you there, as if your presence was a medicine. You frowned when you noticed the septa robes she was wearing.

"Did you really do what I was told you did?" you asked, the knot in your stomach growing with each word that left your mouth. "Did you go see that snake in King's Landing?"

"I needed to talk to Alicent about the latest events, clarify things." She walked across the large room and began taking off her clothes, throwing them on top of one of the dark wooden chairs.

"To clarify?" you asked, the situation sounding unbelievable to your ears. "And what is there to clarify? She took your throne to give to her son."

"Her grandson was murdered in his bed while he slept and she thought I had ordered such a transgression." She was left with just her thin cloth intimate dress, turned to you and held her hands in front of her, twirling her wedding ring nervously. "I couldn't be at peace if–"

"Peace?!" You widen your eyes slightly, in disbelief. "I was there, Rhaenyra, I saw the procession. She was sitting as she was paraded with the corpse of her grandson, do you know what one of the court members said? They called you cruel, a monster, a defiler of the innocent. There is no peace anymore."

She sighed and sat down on the dark lounge chair, turned her face toward the large fireplace and fell silent.

"Her other son murdered your son, Lucerys was a messenger, this is treason." you keep talking. "Don't you understand yet? It's only you who cares, she doesn't care. Aegon doesn't care."

"I made a promise to my father and I intend to keep it, I will not rule with unnecessary killings and deaths." she finally turned to face you again. "Both the Dowager Queen and I have lost loved ones in recent weeks. I thought we could come together in our grief."

You sighed to contain your rising anger. Rhaenyra was too complacent, the greens wouldn't stop until they had her head to govern without her interference and she still didn't see that.

"You could have been killed." you take a few steps and lean on the wooden back of one of the chairs.

"I was careful and took one of the guards with me, no one knew it was me." she kept her purple eyes sharp in your direction.

"You must think you're so smart, but you were just a fool." you found yourself saying. "A fool who clings to the past, a past with a person who was never your friend."

"It is not foolish to seek all ways to peace!" She raises her voice, a few veins poking out slightly on her neck. "Understand me, you know me as well as I know you, don't be gratuitously hostile."

"If you act like a fool then I'll treat you like one!" you raised your voice too, gripping the wood tightly. "The people of King's Landing believe you are a baby killer, they would dismember you if they knew you were there!"

"I'm still your queen, remember that." she spat.

You felt a violent knot in your stomach and took a few steps back, lowering your head, swallowing hard and clasping your hands humbly in front of your body.

"May I go now, Your Grace?" you asked, eyes fixed on the stone floor.

"No." she replied and got up from the lounger, walking in long strides towards you.

She stopped inches from touching your body completely and pulled your hands into hers, they were warm and welcoming, as always. Rhaenyra leans in and rubs the side of her face against yours, her aquiline nose caressing your cheek, you closed your eyes and leaned against her.

"Stand by my side, I have enough people disagreeing with me, all the time." she pulled back and looked at you closely. "I don't want to have arguments with you either."

You looked down at your joined hands, the symbol of your bond with Rhaenyra. You had been by her side for so many years, you didn't want your close relationship to be ruined. You were afraid of losing her in this horrendous war, the constant search for peace could kill her.

"I got scared." You admitted, eyes still fixed on your clasped hands. "I came running as soon as Elinda told me, I was hoping you hadn't done such a thing."

"If I make a decision in the future that is risky, I will have the decency to ask you what you think first." She said and you looked up, locking your eyes with hers.

"No need to do that, Your Grace." you caress her slender fingers. "Seek peace, if that is what torments you, but do not perish along the way."

She nodded slightly and kept her eyes fixed on your face, smiled slightly and tilted her face even closer to yours.

"I miss you so much, you haven't been here often." she says, voice turning velvety.

She didn't need to say anything else, you tilted your face up and pressed your lips against hers, your eager tongue invading your dragon queen's mouth in a hurry, you kissed your lover hungrily until she ran out of air, your desperate hands tracing the slim curves beneath the almost transparent nightgown. Your mouth didn't stop when you pulled away for air, you continued trailing kisses across her face, down to her neck.

You bit and kissed her milky skin neck, and continued moving down until you reached her favorite part, but she pulled away and you looked at her in confusion.

"Not standing, to bed." she said breathlessly and you hurriedly pulled her towards the bed, laid her down and leaned on your elbows on top of her.

Rhaenyra took the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to you. She lay down completely and looked at you expectantly. You let out a soft moan as you saw your beloved queen expose herself to you.

You leaned forward and pulled her right breast into your mouth, then pinched her nipples with your lips, your tongue grazing against the sensitive, hard nipple. She couldn't help but whimper. She put her hands on the back of your head and pulled you into her chest.

You buried your face in her breasts, you could spend your whole life pleasuring your queen.

why is literal word porn all that ever trends in the fanfic tags. where has hurt/comfort goneee. where has the stories gone. why is porn the only thing that garters attention…??? why is everyone a literal gooner

where’s the romance gone in fanfiction? the story? it used to be a story, a feeling. now it’s just a mind orgasm and move on to your next brain fart.

i have written hurt/comfort fics over the course of my like 4 accs. they NEVER gain attention as opposed to literal word porn. i’ve seen others post hurt/comfort and i ALSO see if w/ theirs. there IS true hurt/comfort and romance that is posted, issue is they’re pushed so far down the tags they’re impossible to come across

fanfiction has changed so much. it used to be so wonderful and now like 95% of it is just sex. no plot.

i literally have to use c.ai to harness that hurt/comfort feels now since fanfics just only ever care to write about fucking.

Union of soul and flesh

Count Orlok x fem!reader

Summary: Sink with great delight into the arms of your lord as the night engulfs you all.

Word Count: 0,5K

Warnings: MDNI, GORE, Orlok is his own warning, bites, blood, mentions of sexual intercourse.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

The wind struggled hard and tried to force its way in through the glass window that you had firmly closed hours before. The night here was silent but it screamed at the same time, an agony that only ended with the first rooster crowing.

You slid your hands down the jagged back of your lord. Your count. Your master. Your love. And your ruin.

He released the fangs that were embedded in your chest with a wet crack, blood running down in a thin line. His gray eyes met yours and you found the courage to bring a hand to the side of his bony face.

"Don't stop." you begged softly and he crawled up until his face was on top of yours.

"Foolish child." the husky voice reverberated and you felt yourself vibrate inside. "I am joining with thy flesh and thou are paying attention to the wind."

The creature moved his hips to fit inside you again, making you let out a soft sigh. He brought his nose to your cheek, inhaling deeply.

You closed your eyes. The candles in the quarters weren't enough to warm your body. But he, he somehow, even with his body devoid of any heat, was able to make you feel like you were burning alive.

It was a heat that consumed your being ever since he first came to you. Before, your tragic existence was pure agony. There was agony now, he burned you so much that you could die, but you would die with great delight at being in his arms.

You turned your head and captured your lord's thin lips in yours, "Forgive me, my lord."

He brought one of his large, calloused hands to your neck and squeezed hard, his long nails almost digging into the soft flesh.

"Thy lord?" he repeated, growling softly. "Do thou find the man whom devour thou in thy bed thy lord, child?"

You moaned audibly and your voice sounded hoarse as you gasped for air to reply, “My love.”

He let out a satisfied grunt and released your neck, moving his hips again and lowering his face to your neck to take a soft bite.

"Say it again." he ordered, thrusting once hard, making you spread your legs wider around his waist. "Say it."

"My love." you sighed, tilting your head back and closing your eyes. "My love."

He moaned hoarsely and moved his hips quickly before licking your neck.

"I had such a beautiful daydream. A night with the starry welken above our castle. Yet all I could regard about was how I wanted to tear thou apart and enter thou so we could be together."

Without any warning, he pulled out of you and crawled lower, placing his mouth on your left breast and pulling hard, a piece of skin came loose and he went back to bite you again.

You groaned loudly and your eyes rolled back, your back arched and you leaned into the evil creature on top of you.

"More." you begged. "More."

He was licking the blood from your skin and took possession of your body again with your desperate plea. He seemed to want to reach deeper with his fangs and you could no longer think straight.

"You and I..." you murmured, "we are one."

He released your breast and advanced on you, taking you in a raging, hungry kiss.

"We are."

Under The Influence (of Regret)

Vi x fem!reader

Summary: An already altered discussion has an even worse consequence.

Word Count: 1,2K

Warning: HEAVY ANGST, mentions of alcoholism, canon-typical violence, arguments, screaming, BLOOD.

note: this story takes place after the end of arcane.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

War and grief have the power to change a person. Maybe for a while, or maybe forever, but change is a certainty.

You didn't escape it, neither did Vi.

You were a constant presence at Caitlyn's mansion, at her insistence. She knew that having a friend around would be good for Vi and for herself. And you didn't want to be alone either, after everything you'd witnessed.

With the periods you spent away from your apartment, it was necessary to always have a small suitcase with your things, despite Caitlyn's insistence that you occupy one of the closets in the room you were assigned.

The problem with taking your clothes was that Vi got into the habit of borrowing them, or just taking them out of your suitcase and then showing up wearing one of your shirts.

But you didn't care. Stealing your clothes seemed like a pastime to her, or pestering you to read to her in front of the fireplace. You didn't mind any of that, since you'd rather have her doing those things than drinking whole bottles of booze.

Vi's addiction to alcohol has always worried you, you closely followed the bad period she went through after the fight with Caitlyn.

She scoffed the first time you suggested she try cutting down on her drinking, got angry the second time, and only softened the third time when she saw how upset you were about it..

The first few months after the war were the hardest, as she grieved over Jinx's death. But you tried to make her comfortable, giving her space and staying close when she seemed more open. The following months were easier, even though the pain was still there, she knew you would be there for her.

With a soft knock on the door of the room she shared with Caitlyn, you waited only a few seconds before hearing permission to enter.

Vi smiled softly as you poked your head in the doorway before stepping all the way in. She was sprawled out in one of the fancy chairs near the fireplace.

"Hey, smarty pants." she held out a hand as you approached.

"Hey, what are you doing?" you rubbed your thumb gently over her bruised knuckles. They were already healing.

"Just... nothing. I couldn't find you and Cait is working in her office." she replied, leaning her head against the back of her chair. "What about you?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, but I need my brown jacket." You replied, seeing her look up at you. "I'm going home today."

"Why?" she asked, letting herself sound fragile, something she rarely did.

"I need to wash my clothes and, I don't know, live in my own house? For a while. Before they kick me out." you shrugged.

"There's a washing machine here, I bet you can use it. And Cait already said you can live-"

"Vi." you interrupted her with a warning tone. "I don't want to talk about this again, you can come see me, or I'll come here when I have time, I don't know. Where's my jacket?"

She let go of your hand and frowned cutely, making her look like a kitten.

"In my middle drawer." she nodded towards the large closet that took up almost an entire wall in the room. "On the left side of the closet."

"In the drawer?" you asked, frowning as you walked over to the closet, opening the doors and looking at the drawers she indicated. "You know where you're supposed to hang a jacket, right?"

"Nonsense," she replied, turning her face back to the fire. "I saved it, that's what matters."

"It must be full of mold, yuck." you joked as you opened the drawer, soon spotting the thick lining of your jacket, picking it up and bringing it close to your face.

You were about to close the drawer again when you saw a smooth surface, glass? Against your better judgment of leaving Vi's privacy alone, you opened the drawer wider and moved the few clothes that were covering the small bottle out of the way. Bottle. A small, light bottle of liquor. Someone had drunk more than half of it.

Your stomach sank and you stopped listening to Vi's voice rattling off a response to your earlier taunt. You lifted the bottle and turned to her.

"Vi, what the fuck is this?" you sounded harsher than you intended. "I thought you were done with that."

She turned her face to you, her expression darkening into anger, "Gimme that." she stood up and walked over to you.

"What's this nonsense?" you took the bottle out of her reach as she stepped forward and tried to take it from you.

"You don't have to get involved in this. Give me the bottle." she held out her hand and you stepped back even further.

"Please, you've come so far. Does Cait know? She'd hate to see you drinking again." you could feel your eyes burning with tears that wanted to come out.

"You don't know anything about me and Cait. Give me that." she advanced on you and you felt anger.

"No!" you shouted. "I thought you-"

"I told you to give me that!" she raised her fist in the air and you felt your head being thrown back hard, making you stumble.

You lost your balance and the things you were carrying fell. Your vision blurred slightly and you soon felt blood running down your now sore nose. Bringing your hand up to your face, you panicked slightly when you saw the thick liquid covering it.

You turned your wide eyes to Vi, who was staring at you, transfixed. Getting up from the ground, you quickly walked past her and stomped away.

The large bandage on your nose was uncomfortable and unsightly. Your nose throbbed and every now and then a wave of pain would hit you, making you curl up even more.

But the pain you felt when you remembered Vi's words was greater, she was right, after all. You knew nothing about her and you shouldn't meddle in her life.

The next day came in a blur and you only realized it when you heard a knock on your door. Groaning in discontent, you dragged yourself over and opened the door a crack.

Your expression quickly fell when you saw Vi standing there, your suitcase slung over her shoulder, your brown jacket in her unoccupied hand.

"What are you doing here?" you spat.

"You... you left your things at Cait's house, I just wanted to bring them to you." she said, her gaze roaming over your face, a hint of worry present.

You reached your hand through the door opening, "Okay, give it to me."

"It's heavy, I'll put it in there for you." she lowered her face and continued to look at you, so that her eyes seemed bigger. "Please."

You huffed and opened the door wider, stepping aside for her to come in. She walked past you with cautious steps as you left the door ajar. You crossed your arms, watching her place your suitcase on the coffee table, resting your jacket on top.

Vi turned to you, her gaze lingering on your face. She looked shy, which was not like her.

"I didn't mean to hit-"

"You said you came to bring my things and you already did, you can go." you interrupted, your nose starting to hurt again.

"I would never hurt you on purpose." she took a step towards you, making you step back. "I didn't mean to do it."

"But you did. And you were right, anyway. I don't know anything about you and I'm not going to interfere in your life anymore." you replied, your voice serious. "Go away."

Vi's eyes shone, the shine of tears she didn't want to shed. She shook her head and walked past you.

DUNE MASTERLIST

*AO3 LINKS*

Lady Jessica

Broken trust - oneshot

The waters of purity - oneshot

Leto Atreides

I'm not the only one - series

Paul Atreides

What about me and you together? - oneshot

For you to stay with me (AO3)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

LET THE WORLD BURN - oneshot

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen looking at her children.

Trying to find new fics and all I see is smut

Stop this madness

my troubled wife 🤍🙏

HEXED HEART

Ambessa x f!reader

Summary: Recently, Piltover has fallen weak ever since the hexcore stopped working, and the scientists who may have been able to fix it (Heimerdinger, Jayce, Viktor) had disappeared, leaving Ambessa frustrated. However, when she heard news of you, an intelligent scientist, possibly having the skills to fix it, she immediately took action. Even if it meant using a hint of sweet manipulation.

The remnants of Piltover smoldered under the weight of its own hubris. The once-bustling City of Progress was a shadow of itself, its streets quieter, its golden spires tarnished. The Hexcore had faltered, leaving the city vulnerable, its famed defenses useless.

In her laboratory perched high above the city, you worked tirelessly. The other brilliant minds—Heimerdinger, Jayce, Viktor—had all disappeared, leaving you to hold the fort. You were the last hope of Piltover, though the burden had grown suffocating. Every attempt to stabilize the Hexcore had failed. You stared at the latest iteration of your work, frustration and exhaustion gnawing at your edges.

The heavy thud of boots startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see soldiers, clad in Noxian red and black, entering your lab. At their helm was her. Ambessa Medarda, the warlord who cast a shadow wherever she walked. She was as commanding as the stories claimed—tall, statuesque, and radiating an aura of power that seemed to fill every inch of your lab.

She appraised you with sharp, calculating eyes, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“I’ve been watching you,” she said, her voice as smooth as silk but edged with steel. “Piltover’s lone genius. Working herself into the ground to save this broken city.”

You squared your shoulders, attempting to summon the confidence that exhaustion had stripped away. “If you’ve come to ridicule me, I assure you, I don’t have the time.”

“Oh, I didn’t come to mock you,” she said, stepping closer. Her soldiers fanned out, blocking any potential escape routes. “I came because Piltover’s failures can serve Noxus. You can serve Noxus.”

Your blood chilled. “I don’t serve anyone.”

Ambessa chuckled, low and amused. “Not yet.” She closed the distance between you in a few strides, her imposing figure towering over yours. “But you will.”

Before you could retort, she reached out, her gloved hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The touch was startlingly gentle, disarming. You stiffened, but Ambessa merely tilted her head, her gaze softening, her smile turning warmer.

“You’re exhausted,” she murmured, her tone shifting to something softer, almost tender. “This city doesn’t deserve you. They’ve wrung you dry, haven’t they? And still, no thanks. No progress.”

Her words hit a nerve, and she saw it in the flicker of your expression.

“I—” you began, but her fingers against your jaw silenced you.

“You deserve better,” she said, her voice a near whisper now. Her thumb traced the line of your jaw, her touch featherlight. “A mind like yours shouldn’t be wasted on people who only know how to take. I can offer you more, darling. Resources. Freedom. Respect.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her gaze pinning you in place. It was intoxicating, the way she looked at you—not with disdain or pity, but with something that felt dangerously like admiration.

“You just want to use me,” you said, though the words came out weaker than intended.

Ambessa smiled, a sly curve of her lips. “Of course, I do. But I’ll give you what Piltover never could. I’ll make you feel like the treasure you are.”

Her hand slid from your jaw to your neck, her thumb brushing over your pulse. You were hyper-aware of her closeness, the warmth radiating from her as she leaned in. Her lips grazed the corner of your mouth, a ghost of a kiss, before trailing along your cheek to your ear.

“Do you feel it?” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. “The power we could wield together?”

You shivered despite yourself, torn between resistance and the allure of her promises. She was weaving a net around you, each touch, each word drawing you tighter.

Her hand slid down to your shoulder, her fingers kneading gently, soothing the tension that had built from days—no, weeks—of relentless pressure. You hated how easily she read you, how her touch seemed to draw out the ache you’d buried beneath sheer determination.

“I don’t… I can’t just abandon Piltover,” you stammered, though the conviction in your voice wavered.

Ambessa chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that sent a shiver down your spine. She pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression equal parts understanding and predatory.

“Who said anything about abandoning them?” she cooed, tracing her fingers along the edge of your collarbone. “Think of it as… redirecting your efforts. Piltover has taken everything from you. Why not take something back?”

Her lips ghosted over your temple, and you felt a strange, heady mix of indignation and desire. Every instinct screamed to resist, to fight back against her intoxicating manipulation. But her words had rooted themselves in your mind, growing like thorns around your resolve.

She pressed closer, her presence overwhelming as her other hand cupped your cheek. Her thumb brushed over your skin with a tenderness that contradicted the raw power she emanated.

“I see the brilliance in you,” she murmured. “The kind of brilliance that could reshape the world. But brilliance needs the right soil to grow, and Piltover has done nothing but starve you.”

Her lips found your jawline, a soft, lingering kiss that left your heart pounding. You hated how your breath hitched, how her words sank deeper, wrapping themselves around your doubts and frustrations like a vice.

“I could give you everything,” she whispered, her voice dripping with promise. “Imagine a lab equipped with anything you could dream of. Resources, soldiers to protect you, and the freedom to create without petty councils and politics dragging you down.”

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind. “And what would you demand in return?”

Ambessa leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, her smirk sharp but her eyes still softened with that feigned tenderness. “Only your cooperation. Your brilliance, dedicated to something greater than this dying city.” Her hand slid down your arm, fingers curling gently around your wrist. “And, of course, you—with all your fire and passion. A partner. An ally.”

Her lips found your wrist, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin there. It was such an intimate gesture that it left you reeling.

“You’re lying,” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

Ambessa smiled again, her confidence unshaken. “I never lie, darling. I may manipulate, I may seduce, but I always tell the truth.” She lifted your hand to her lips, brushing another kiss over your knuckles. “You’ll see. The only chains you’ll wear with me are the ones you choose.”

You trembled, torn between the iron will you’d cultivated in solitude and the dangerous allure of her promises. Her every touch, every word, was carefully calculated, but there was a kernel of sincerity in her eyes that was impossible to ignore.

And then, her tone shifted, low and husky, her lips brushing against your ear. “Or you can stay here,” she murmured, her voice laced with a mockery so subtle it felt like silk slipping over a blade. “Alone. Frustrated. Watching this city crumble around you while you waste away in obscurity.”

The weight of her words settled over you like a storm cloud. The enormity of your failure, the futility of your work, pressed down harder than ever.

Ambessa saw the flicker of doubt in your eyes and leaned in, her lips brushing over your cheek again, her hands sliding to your waist. “Don’t think of it as surrender,” she whispered. “Think of it as liberation.”

Her lips finally found yours, soft and coaxing, her hands firm yet tender as they held you in place. For a moment, the world around you faded, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of her touch, the relentless pull of her presence.

When she finally pulled back, her smirk returned, triumphant but still laced with that maddening, feigned care.

“Take your time,” she said, stepping away as if to give you the illusion of choice. “But know this—I won’t wait forever. And neither will Piltover.”

She turned, her soldiers falling into step behind her, and the door shut with an ominous finality, leaving you alone in the silence of your lab.

Your knees buckled as you leaned against the nearest table, your mind spinning. You hated her, hated how easily she unraveled you. But you couldn’t deny the truth in her words.

And deep down, you wondered if the world Ambessa promised might be worth the price of your pride.

The silence of your lab was suffocating in the wake of her departure. You stood there, still trembling, your hand resting against the edge of your desk as if it might hold you together. You could still feel her touch, lingering like a brand on your skin, a reminder of the impossible decision she had presented.

Stay… or go?

You hadn’t realized how much you had needed an escape, how desperately you had longed for someone to see you beyond your failures. Ambessa had touched that part of you with ruthless precision. She had peeled away your pride, exposed the vulnerability that you’d spent so long burying beneath equations and inventions.

And now, you stood at the precipice of something you had once sworn to avoid.

The thought of continuing alone in Piltover, watching everything you had worked for crumble—your research, your hopes—seemed unbearable. The weight of it all crashed down on you like a ton of stone. Ambessa’s words, laced with promises of power, resources, and recognition, were beginning to sound like the only way out.

You closed your eyes, feeling your resolve slip through your fingers like sand.

Her touch had been gentle. Too gentle, and that had terrified you. She was a master at breaking down walls, and the way she had looked at you, with a mixture of admiration and something darker, had set your pulse racing. You had wanted her to touch you.

No, you needed her to touch you.

No more endless days in solitude. No more futile attempts at saving a city that didn’t care.

With a shaky breath, you made your decision.

Later that night, you stood before the door to Ambessa’s private quarters, your hands clammy, heart hammering. You’d walked here with purpose, though the journey had felt like an eternity. Every step had only brought you closer to the inevitable—an alliance forged in the heat of desperation. You knocked once, and the door opened before you could even pull your hand back.

Ambessa stood there, her expression unreadable as her eyes traveled over you.

“You’ve come.” Her voice was steady, but there was a gleam in her eyes that hinted at the satisfaction of a predator about to claim its prize.

You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, but you refused to let it show. “I’m here,” you said, your voice firmer than you felt, “because I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Ambessa stepped aside, her lips curling into a smile. “I knew you would come around.”

As you entered, the lavish, dimly lit room seemed almost too luxurious for someone like you, but there was something intoxicating about it. The rich silks, the scent of something sweet and foreign in the air—everything spoke of power and control, the very things you had been so desperate to grasp.

Ambessa closed the door behind you with a soft click, and then she turned to face you, her eyes now intense with anticipation. “Tell me, darling… what is it you truly desire?” she asked, her voice low and coaxing.

You hesitated, but only for a second. Then the truth spilled from your lips. “I want to be… seen.”

Ambessa stepped toward you, a predatory smile playing on her lips. “Oh, I see you,” she purred. “I see you more clearly than anyone ever has.” She reached out, her fingers grazing your cheek with deliberate slowness, as though savoring the moment. “And now, I’ll make sure you’re never unseen again.”

She cupped your face gently, tilting your chin upward, and her gaze softened, as though she were savoring the power of the moment. “You were always meant for something greater than this city. But you needed a catalyst… someone to help you realize your true potential.”

Her touch was almost tender, but the undercurrent of control never left. She leaned in, her lips brushing your forehead with a softness that contrasted the fire in her eyes.

“I can give you everything,” she whispered, her voice filled with honeyed persuasion. “All you have to do is take my hand.”

A heat bloomed in your chest, rising to your cheeks, but it wasn’t embarrassment—it was the burning spark of surrender. Every part of you that had been torn between resistance and the seductive pull of her power now bent toward the inevitable.

You nodded, the words tumbling out in a quiet confession, “I’ll follow you.”

Ambessa’s lips curled into a triumphant, almost possessive smile. “Good.” She leaned in, her mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was both commanding and consuming. It was gentle at first, a slow burn that deepened with every press of her lips, every brush of her tongue. She held you with an intensity that made your knees weak, her hands roaming with practiced care, tracing your sides, your back, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of her body against yours.

When she pulled back, breathless but satisfied, her fingers trailed down your spine, sending shivers of anticipation through you. “You belong to me now,” she said softly, her voice wrapped in a possessive sweetness. “And I’ll make sure you never regret it.”

You trembled, feeling the weight of her words settle over you, and for the first time in a long while, you realized you didn’t mind. You were hers. Completely.

In her arms, under her gaze, you were no longer the scientist who had failed. You were a tool—her tool—ready to be shaped and molded into something greater, something powerful. You had agreed, out of weakness, yes—but in that weakness, you had found something that felt like freedom.

And as Ambessa’s lips met your skin once more, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw, you wondered if this, this was what it meant to truly be seen.