#Robyn's House Husband

[spurgie-cousin]

i'm watching the new Sister Wives and at one point Meri is reminiscing about how she used to be in charge of the Thanksgiving turkey every year bc Kody loved the way she made it *until* he met Robyn and then, in her words, "he just liked hers so much better" or whatever so Robyn did it from then on

and like the full weight of Meri's situation has never really hit me until I heard her say that tbh. bc I also have particular thing I make for holidays only because my husband likes it, so much so that he'll make comments the whole year about how he can't wait for it, and thinking about going from that to where Meri is now.........

like at first they were each others only special person. and then the years went by, he married 2 other women in rapid succession, and by all accounts she no longer felt very special to him but at the very least, every Thanksgiving she had the turkey. Kody loved her turkey and it was one day where she could feel like the special person again.

and then Robyn comes into the picture and she doesn't even get that any more. Like after Leon leaves, she doesn't get anything and to think that every year at the holidays she maybe had a knee jerk "oh I can't wait to make Kody some turkey" thought only to remember that only Robyn's is good enough for him now just made me tear up more than a little.

[thebackwoodsbarbi]

Watch "CHRISTINE BROWN'S Aunt Kristyn Decker's Book EXPOSES the REALITY of SISTER WIVES #tlc" on YouTube

[huramuna]

a maid's folly - epilogue. end.

dark aemond x maid ofc

work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

previous | next

word count: 2k

follow & turn on notifs at @huramuna-fics for my fic postings!

a new maid from the Vale arrives at the Red Keep during a tumultuous time and becomes ensnared in the One-Eyed prince's web.

thank you for sticking with me while i struggled to get through the epilogue. i hope it tickles the itch that chapter 8 left with you and ties up everything with a nice bow. thank you for your patience, as always.

warnings: smut, power imbalance, religious guilt, dark Aemond, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, Aemond being a touch starved weirdo, possessiveness, jealousy, this is going to be ANGSTY

am i dreaming of sunflowers - post malone & metro boomin, a$ap rocky, roisee

“Dracarys, Robyn.” 

“Dwa… caways.”

“No, no. Dracarys!” 

“Dwacawuys!” 

“... good enough for now, little one,” Aemond hummed, picking up the toddler with his good arm and holding him to his hip. “Now, how do we greet mother?” 

“Muña,” Robyn babbled, his chubby arms outstretched as he and Aemond approached Rosemary, who had an apron tied taut around her rounded belly. Her hands were dirtied with flour, which she pat down the front of her dress. 

“Very good, little bird!” Rosemary exclaimed, darting over to her two boys, a gentle hand laid on Aemond’s arm, to which he leaned in slightly.

“What’s for dinner, then, muña?” Aemond purred, pressing his lips to Rosemary’s neck, eliciting a giggle from her. 

“Venison stew and parsnip mash,” she responded. “‘Tis no sea bass, but it will do, shouldn’t it, husband?” 

“I suppose it will.” he responded swiftly, placing Robyn down onto the floor as they walked into the small cottage. He stretched his arm and shoulder before perusing the kitchen table. “More letters?” he asked, thumb flitting over parchment that was strewn across the table.

“... yes. She is begging for your return.” Rosemary avoided his gaze, stirring the mash that was still cooking on the stovetop. 

“I don’t understand why– I am useless to them like this.” he pulled out a chair with one arm, his only arm– the other one was amputated at the elbow, long healed and scarred over. His eye scar was speckled now with burns, the sapphire gone from his socket. He didn’t care to wear an eyepatch these days, his hair shorn short. He looked ghastly to everyone in the village besides his wife and son. He looked like his father now, how his face was sunken and the eye socket unadorned– just… there, with only one arm. When going to town, he wrapped a silken sash over the sullied side of his face, just so he wouldn’t scare the children. It was the least he could do.

“The war has been over for six moons, she says– they… they pray for you to come back to King’s Landing, Aemond.” she pointed out, taking the pot off from the heat.

“I have no dragon, I can’t fight– what use am I?” 

“You don’t have to have a use, husband– you merely need to be alive. Your mother and brother think you dead still.”

“I’m better off to them dead–”

“Don’t,” Rosemary snapped, hands on her hips. “Do not ever say that to me, or around Robyn either. I won’t have talk of that in this house.” 

Aemond bit his lip and tongue, eye lazing over the letter that was pursed between thumb and forefinger. 

Dearest Marigold,

I cannot wait to meet my nephew, he sounds like the most wondrous little boy. But we are still not able to leave the nest. The folk are in uprise at the lack of food and resources.

Mother mourns him. Brother has erected a statue in his honor.

You must convince him. We need him here. 

Please.

If you are unable to and do not return before the turn of Spring, I shall saddle up and get you all myself. 

Best,

Lady Orbweaver

His brow furrowed as he read it over and over again until his lone eye strained and watered from not blinking. “You should burn these.” 

“Aemond.”

“I don’t want to speak of it any longer.”

–

Spring had turned, the coldness of the nights bleeding into warm days as the flowered fields of the Riverlands finally began to recover from the war that had ended two years ago now. It had been two springs since Helaena promised to come visit– but she had not yet.

“Vaelaena, please don’t run so far ahead!” Rosemary called as she tottered down the wooded path towards the lake. Aemond was at her side, arm around her to steady the two of them as they walked. She was once again swollen with child, hoping for an early summer delivery date. 

Robyn was now five years old, helping his sister along the path. Vaelaena, now two, was the spitting image of her mother with wide brown eyes and wonderment at everything. 

“Okay mumma!” Vaelaena squeaked as she continued to do the opposite of what her mother asked.

“Vae, hold my hand!” Robyn smushed his fist into his sister’s, making her slow down. 

They reached the pebbled beach of the God’s Eye lake and Rosemary sat down on a flat rock. Aemond had fishing poles strapped to his back, fiddling with getting them off with only one hand. 

“Robyn, come help your father.” Aemond asked, much to his own chagrin. He hated to ask for help– especially from a five year old, but this was his life now.

Robyn took the fishing poles from Aemond and baited the hook– they had mulled around in the dirt a few hours earlier in the garden for worms. Mostly Robyn and Vaelaena, but Aemond kicked the dirt around, too.

“Now, cast it like I taught you, boy,” he sat down on the shore, knees bundled up in front of him as he watched his son cast the fishing line out into the lake. He blinked, remembering all too well when he had been bleeding out, dying on this very spot– his arm shredded to nothing but muscle and sinew, and his dragon drowning, sinking to the bottom of the lake. He had watched when they fished Vhagar’s corpse out of the lake, now nothing but a host of bones. They were looking for his body, he knew– they found Dark Sister and Caraxes, too. But they did not find Daemon’s body, nor did they find his. When he looked up at the sky above the God’s Eye, he was there again, swirling in a fight to the death against his uncle– it was suicide, it was… stupid. The despair he’d felt seeing them haul up Vhagar’s remains was immense. He was the cause of her death, a dragon who’d survived from the Conquest and beyond. Only to be brought down by an ugly bloodwyrm.  

But it had won the war, in short. Rhaenyra had surrendered after she heard of her husband’s untimely death and fled to Essos with her remaining children. Aegon and Helaena remained in the Keep and Jaehaerys was named heir. It seemed things were finally as they should be– and to them, Aemond was dead. At least, to everyone but his wife, children and sister. Helaena knew the entire time that Rosemary was alive and did not say a thing, and mayhaps Aemond was still cross about that. He had been furious at Rosemary for weeks after she saved his life. He was a terrible patient, in truth. All the while being angry at Helaena and Rosemary, he couldn’t be mad at Robyn, who aided in his recovery, the best a toddler could, of course. He didn’t even have to ask if he was his son, the boy was a spitting image of himself, of the portraits that had been done of him as a child, still hung in his mother’s rooms, he guessed. 

Rosemary and Aemond had wed shortly after he regained most mobility, about six months after he arrived in her cottage. They had paid a septon in the town in fifteen copper stars to wed them in the Sept– the Sept of the small village just being a one-room hut with a dirt floor. 

In town, they were known as Marigold Rivers and Torrhen Waters. They were nameless, just two bastards in love– and Aemond wished for it to stay that way. Despite his love being alive, his son– he couldn’t help but feel this was his punishment. To lurk in the shadows as a nameless bastard cripple while his mother and brother thought him dead. It was his punishment for starting the war, for being a Kinslayer– 

“Papa, look!” Robyn squealed, hauling up a small trout from the lake. “Papa!” 

“Good job, son,” Aemond hummed. “Bring it here, let’s see.” he gestured with his one hand as his son wrestled the tiny trout with two hands to bring it over. Despite it all, despite his despair he felt at his current state of being, he still wanted to be a good father. Better than his father was, at least. He had to be. He made every effort to be there, to teach, to nurture, to do what his own father never did. His son would never know that his father was a prince and he wouldn’t know he had the blood of the dragon in his veins– but he would be loved. 

Rosemary had Vaelaena on her lap, combing her fingers through her unruly blonde curls, wrestling them into a braid, humming a tune. Her tune was muted, suddenly, as the sound of wing flaps echoed through the air. 

Aemond’s chest bubbled in panic and elation, half expecting to see Vhagar from over the horizon. ‘Twas not Vhagar– of course.

It was a giant blue dragon– Dreamfyre. Atop her was Queen Helaena. She landed gracefully upon the pebbled beach. Robyn was frozen in fear or amazement, Aemond could not tell– Vaelaena had her face buried in her mother’s bosom, sniffling. 

Aemond rose to his feet, legs shaky like a newborn fawn’s. His sister was here, as she had promised– two years late, perhaps but… 

“Aemond!” Helaena called, trotting across the beach in her blue and black riding leathers. She looked radiant, hair windswept from the ride. Her face was plastered in the biggest, dumbest smile ever. 

“Hel…” Aemond echoed softly, trudging across the rocky terrain and meeting Helaena in the middle, wrapping his one arm around her. “Hel…”

“I’ve missed you so– my dear brother,” she sniffled. “We’ve all missed you terribly.”

“... how is mother?” 

“As well as she can be, considering the circumstances…” 

“Aegon? The twins? Maelor?” 

“All very good.” 

“... Helaena?” 

“Yes, brother?” 

“Why are you here?” 

“To ask you to come back. And I will not take no for an answer.” 

Aemond opened his mouth to speak, but saw a flash of white go past him as Robyn walked towards Dreamfyre. “Robyn, don’t!” 

Dreamfyre trilled a soft noise at the tiny human coming towards her, who stopped about three feet in front of her snout. Robyn reached out his hand, offering the fish he had just caught. The dragon looked at the little boy, letting out a huge sniff (which almost knocked over the poor boy) and opened her maw, slurping up the fish in a fell swoop. Robyn giggled and was thrilled, despite his hand now dripping in dragon slobber. He trotted back to his father, clinging to his pant leg. “Who’s this, papa?” 

“This is… your aunt. Helaena. She is my sister, just like Vaelaena is your sister.” 

“Vaelaena?” Helaena asked softly, brow perked. 

“... Mayhaps named after you and Vhagar.” 

Rosemary approached with the aforementioned toddler on her hip, already teary eyed from seeing Helaena. “Vae, this is your aunty Helaena– this is Lady Orbweaver I talked about.” 

“Lady… Owbweaber…” Vaelaena repeated, astonished. “Like in… my stories?” 

“The very same!” Helaena exclaimed. “I see that you haven’t given up your talent as a storyteller, Rosemary?” 

“Rosemary? … I thought mumma’s name was Marigold.” 

–

Fifteen years after the war between brother and sister had ended, the infamous feud dubbed by historians as the ‘Dance of the Dragons’, the realm was peaceful and quaint, still ruled by King Aegon II Targaryen, and his wife, Queen Helaena Targaryen.

By his royal decree, Aegon had bestowed the ancestral island of Dragonstone upon his brother Aemond Targaryen, who had returned five years after the war, thought to be dead after the battle over God’s Eye. 

Dragonstone is resided by the prince, Aemond Targaryen, his wife, Rosemary Targaryen, and their five children. Robyn Targaryen, Vaelaena Targaryen, Baelon Targaryen, Daehaerys Targaryen, and Mheya Targaryen, the last of whom was supposedly named for Rosemary’s late mother, who had ancestral roots in the Mountain clans of the Eyrie. 

The lamb survived the dragon– the lamb, in fact, saved the dragon.

[harrywavycurly]

Trouble Next Door Part 25: We’re Gonna Be Fine

Masterlist: here

TW: Mentions of cheating and divorce

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @makingmunson94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99 @idkbbyx3 @amberpanda99 @munsonmecrazy

A/N: The slow burning has come to an end y’all can all breathe a little easier now✨

“Did you really just ring my doorbell?” “Uh yeah? It’s what people usually do when they arrive at someone’s house…it lets the owner of the home know they’re here…” “thanks smartass…I meant why didn’t you just come in like you normally do?” “Oh uhm…I just…I didn’t know if it was locked or not and…I know you watch too many of those true crime shows…that it would freak you out if you heard someone messing with your doorknob…” “Oh…right…well come on in dinner is in the over but I opened a bottle of wine if you’d like a glass?” “Sure…oh uh Dustin says hello..he’s going to call you tomorrow he said something about wanting to do a movie night this weekend.” “That would be fun…you have plans for this weekend?” “Not at the moment…” “well you do now…why are you just standing there? You can sit down you know? The couch won’t bite you in the ass or anything.” “I can’t do this.” “Can’t do what? Sit down? Do you have an ass tattoo that’s healing or something?” “What? No I don’t have a tattoo on my ass…I can’t do this…you and I…just acting like…like this isn’t the very fucking room that…that everything…changed in.” “Yeah..this is the room where I figured out my ex husband was cheating on me with my bestfriend’s wife.” “That’s not what I’m talking about…” “oh right…it’s the room that I decided I was actually done with him in..and signed all the dotted lines possible to make him my ex husband…right on that coffee table actually.” “That’s also not what-” “it’s also the room that Dustin told us he was going to college in…it’s the room Max told me she and Lucas were breaking up for good in…where Robin let me cry on her shoulder after telling her about Steve…it’s where you and I used to fall asleep in the middle of our horror movie nights and I’d wake up to the sound of someone dying…and it’s the room where just recently I decided everything is going to be okay…we’re gonna be fine.” “We’re gonna be fine?” “Yes.” “I don’t…I don’t know if we are…going to be fine…” “are you calling me a liar?” “What? No…no I’m just saying I’m not so sure you’re…right.” “So you’re saying I’m wrong?” “I’m saying you have the potential of being wrong…yes…because how…how can you say we are going to be fine when this…this doesn’t feel the same? It feels…weird.” “I can say we’re gonna be fine because…I’m in love with you Eddie.” “I’m sorry…what the fuck did you…did you just…say to me?” “Don’t be an asshole Edward James.” “Say it one more time please you know my hair blocks my hearing sometimes.” “I’m in love with you…I’m sorry it took me-” “Sorry sorry I didn’t mean to do that.” “You didn’t mean to kiss me?” “I mean…I didn’t mean to interrupt you…what were you saying?” “I honestly don’t remember…” “I do have that effect on people…causing momentary memory fogs…it’s just the power of the Munson charm…but it was something about taking you so long?” “Munson charm? Who’s been lying to you and telling you that you’re charming?” “Now who’s being an asshole?” “Anyway…I’m sorry it took me so long to realize how I felt…I just…wasn’t ready but if I’m being honest…I think these feelings have always been there I just didn’t want to lose you so…I didn’t say anything..and then Steve showed up.” “I get it…I really do…I love you…I don’t care how long it took us to get here…I’m just so fucking glad we’re here.” “I love you too…still think I have the potential of being wrong about us being fine?” “Yes…but only because we are going to be more than fine…we’re gonna be great.” “Was that supposed to be a moment where your Munson charm was supposed to make me all woozy and fall more in love with you?” “Did it work?” “No…now come on and help me finish dinner.” “Glad to see you being in love with me hasn’t made you lose your bossiness.” “You wouldn’t love me if I wasn’t exactly the way that I am.” “That’s true…”

[gabessquishytum]

I keep seeing all these ideas where Dream is famous and I wanna take it a step farther. With Dream being rockstar famous, and known for his wild temper and deeply chaotic life, he gets approached by a large Hollywood studio to star in a new reality television show. It would be him, his new manager and husband Hob, their teenage sons and a revolving door of friends, neighbors and family. They'll move him out of his posh Soho flat and into a luxury mansion in Beverly Hills. All he needs to do is sign on the dotted line.

Dream obviously thinks it's stupid. After all, he's a pretty private guy and a right asshole at times and he doesn't think he'll make good television. But Hob disagrees. It's been forever since Dream's name was last in the papers and fans are clambering for new content. Besides, they can play up their personalities for the camera and Hob wouldn't just let them run amok in their private life.

So he agrees a bit unwillingly. That is until he finds out how fun it is to lie directly to the camera, make Desire's life hell when they guest star, and ruin production by showing them how satisfied his husband is in every room of the house.

- 🤜 anon

I love the idea of an Endless reality TV show SO MUCH!!! Can you imagine the chaos?! It'd be so brilliant.

Robyn and Orpheus are in their late teens, so old enough to enjoy occasionally popping up in an episode or two - but when filming starts they get to find out exactly how protective their dad (Hob) is over their privacy. Hob has written strict boundaries into the contract with the production company so the cameras literally can't go into certain parts of the mansion, and certainly can't film the boys without at least one guardian being present. Hob would happily take the company to court and sue if they cross any lines. The same rules apply for Delirium, who is also still quite young and occasionally likes to show up in an episode.

Meanwhile Dream is basically just having a great time doing increasingly weird things. He takes baths in oat milk, claiming that its been part of his routine for years. He puts a really terrible fake tattoo on his upper thigh and walks around showing it off like it's real. He does "vocal exercises" with Orpheus as part of his "art" and Orpheus spends the whole time trying not crack up while Dream makes these awful noises.

And of course, who would forget -

Hob, holding a tiny pig: Dream Endless, come to the foyer... I have a little gift for you

Dream: oh my god is that a chicken?!

Plus the amount of times the camera has caught Hob looking thoroughly wrecked... in the kitchen covered in hickies, with his pants down in the pool area, black lipstick smeared all over his face in the bathroom... so many bits of footage have had to be cut because Dream will just drop to his knees wherever and start trying to suck Hob’s dick. He's famous, he can do what he wants!

The show is, of course, a hit. Much to Desire's chagrin. Although they are secretly hoping to get a spinoff show out of this - hopefully one where they get to slap the smug smile off Dream’s annoying face...

[arialerendeair]

Happy Birthday!!!!!! May all your wishes come true!!!! Good health and wealth to you!!!

As a Gabe anon, I feel compelled to give you a little idea and here it is. A Sleepless in Seattle AU!

Hob is a recently widowed father to a precocious 10-year-old, Robyn. They lost Eleanor just the year before and to help themselves, they pack up and move out of the city she grew up in to move to Seattle.

On the other side of the country, Dream is preparing to marry Calliope, whom he met at work. The relationship is fine. He likes her well enough and she likes him well enough. Marriage is just something that makes this all seem real.

It's Christmas Eve and while on a long drive home, Dream tunes into a radio show where Robyn is asking for a new wife or husband for his father. He's been real sad since his mom died and he just wants someone to join their little family.

Then Hob catches him and sends him off to bed and takes over the call. He gets to talking about what he loved about his wife and what he misses most. Dream heart melts for this stranger so many miles away.

Dream decides to write him a letter. He wants to meet Hob and Robyn on top of the Empire State Building on Valentine's Day, much to the chagrin of his friend Lucienne who rightly tells him he doesn't want to be in love in real life. He wants to be in love in a movie. He's also still engaged to Calliope after all. Dream thinks better of it and tosses the letter, which Lucienne still mails.

Hob meanwhile has moved on and has started dating again. Which Robyn doesn't like. He finds Gwen too weird for his tastes. Besides he likes Dream's letter the best. Which puts the house at odds. Robyn wants to go to New York for Valentine's Day, Hob wants to go to a cabin for the weekend with Gwen. They fight about it all day long until Eurydice, Robyn's new friend, uses her parent's travel agency to put him on a plane.

Robyn's going to New York to see his new dad <3

- 🤜 anon

ANON I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE GRATEFUL IN MY LIFE THAT YOU DECIDED TO COME AND GRACE MY INBOX WITH THIS. BECAUSE THIS IS GLORIOUS.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~

Hob has never been more panicked in his entire life than he was when he got the phone call from his babysitter that Robyn wasn't at home. The ensuing fight with Gwen had been quick, vicious, and frustrating. She had understood his need to go after Robyn, of course, but when she found out that Robyn had left to meet this mystery letter person, they'd had a fight over the love letter that Hob still carried in his wallet.

(Why did he carry the letter in his wallet? How long had he had the loopy handwriting memorized, how long had he known every single word, no matter how many times he'd read it....)

Hob had taken Gwen home, and had accepted her demand to delete her number from his phone and hauled ass to the airport, purchasing a ticket the second he hit the counter, racing to the gate in time. The flight was agonizing, and Robyn had clearly turned his phone off, no matter how many times Hob looked at it and begged for his kid to answer one of his dozen or so texts.

~!~

Perhaps Dream should have known that Calliope would not stand to play second fiddle to anyone, even an imaginary man who had no basis or truth in reality. Yet when she'd handed him the ring back with a regretful look, he'd felt nothing but relief. He had no doubt that in another world, they could, perhaps, find happiness together, but every time Dream looked at the Empire State Building... he wondered.

Strange that the sound of a single man's voice had made him decide to abandon all reason. But Robert Gadling (call him Hob, according to his adorable son) had sounded so wistful and so lovely that it had been impossible not to be drawn to the possibility of offering what it was that the man was seeking. No matter that he lived across the entire country and the possibility of him being at the top of the Empire State Building tonight was so unlikely as to be called impossible...

The romantic in him couldn't deny it how much he wanted Hob to be waiting for him there. Even if Dream had no idea what he looked like, or how someone like Robyn would like him, it didn't matter. The possibility of it all was a break in the 'fine' that it seemed had been suffocating him his entire life.

So Dream raced to the Empire State Building, barely making it past the guard, promising a quick look before he left, and ran out onto the observation deck. The sight of no one there, only an empty chill, had his heart sinking, because of course he'd been foolish, of course he had wanted too much, wanted the impossible - when the door opened behind him.

Standing there was a man, with his son, and they were in the middle of an argument.

"I told you no one would be up here, they were closed-"

"But Dad, his letter promised! He promised!"

"I know, but sometimes adults make promises that they can't keep," Hob said, his voice softening, gentling.

Dream stared in shock, because it was impossible not to recognize both of those voices. He'd heard them in his dreams for weeks now, and they likely hadn't seen him because of his all black ensemble. He cleared his throat and stepped into the orange light from the inside.

"I am in the habit of keeping my promises," he offered up, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. He stepped closer, even tough it was clear that they were both in shock. A moment later, Robyn was barreling toward him, and Dream caught the boy against his legs carefully, well aware that Robert Gadling (Hob, Hob, his name was Hob) was watching. "It's a pleasure to meet you Robyn."

"I knew you'd come, Mr. Dream. You promised. You said that everyone needs to have dreams, and how important they are, no matter how fantastical they are!" Robyn said, his face pressed tight to him. "You're perfect for Dad, I just know it."

Dream swallowed down the instinctive disagreement, because he was far from perfect for anyone, and in fact, it was the distinct opposite, where he was often too much. "I think that will be up to your Dad and I to determine, Robyn. But I have you to thank for our meeting." He knelt down, uncaring of he cold granite on his knees and met the warm brown eyes of the boy who loved his father so much, he'd tried to do the impossible.

"No matter what happens, Robyn, never forget how important it is to-"

"Put magic into the world," Hob finished, quoting Dream's letter from memory, meeting the wild blue eyes that sent his heart stuttering all over again. "Because if we do not make our own magic, if we do not rejoice in the magic there is to be had, it will fade away before we even know what we have lost."

Dream's breath caught and he stared at Hob. "You read my letter," he whispered.

"Dad keeps it tucked in his wallet," Robyn stage-whispered. "He's read it so many times when he thought I wasn't looking. I think he needs a little magic."

Dream's lips quirked and he grinned as Hob began to flush, his cheeks growing more and more red by the second. "Does he now?" He reached out and gave Robyn's hands a small squeeze before standing and moving closer to where Robert Gadling was tugging at his ear lobe in embarrassment.

"Hello Robert," Dream breathed, his voice soft. "My name is Morpheus Endless, but I would have you call me Dream."

"Hello Dream," Hob repeated, his voice soft, reverent. He could feel his cheeks were flaming red because the most beautiful man he'd ever seen swayed closer to him. "Call me Hob, please? If that's not too weird?"

Dream nodded. "Hob," he agreed. "You kept my letter?"

Hob nodded and reached out to pull it from his letter, unfolding it carefully. "I, I used to be a medieval professor. No one hand writes letters anymore. But yours was handwritten."

"Of course. It was important," Dream whispered. "It had to be a little bit magical. For the man I fell a little in love with over a radio show."

Hob gasped, his eyes widening. There was a story in the way Dream's chin tilted up, unrepentant, but aware it was too much, that it should be too much. It was a story he very much wanted to discover. He swallowed and looked down at Robyn who was grinning wildly at both of them.

"I think I fell a little in love with you when you turned around to tell Robyn you always keep your promises," Hob admitted, his heart pounding. Pink streaked across Dream's cheekbones and he wanted to chase it with his lips. "But don't you live in New York? We, we don't..."

"As it turns out," Dream said, pushing his hands into his pockets. "I am a children's author who is quite able to work from wherever he likes. So perhaps, I could offer my guest room to you both this evening, and I could visit the west coast soon?"

"Really soon, Mr. Dream?" Robyn asked. "Please?"

Dream winked at Hob and looked down at Robyn. "If I can manage it, I have every intention of flying back on the same flight as both of you. I can't have someone else stealing your father away when I have decided to properly court him, after all."

The noise that escaped his throat was embarrassing, but hearing Dream say that he intended to COURT him was... he wasn't the one who should be COURTED, not when Dream was, was, he was the one who deserved to be courted!

"If he will have me of course," Dream added, meeting Hob's eyes again. "I am perhaps out of practice, but I will do my best."

Hob could see the hesitancy there, the worry, and if he wasn't halfway in love with Dream already from that small declaration, he didn't know himself at all. So instead, he reached out, tangled his hands in the collar of Dream's jacket and pulled him in close. "We can practice together," he breathed against Dream's lips, swallowing his gasp with a soft kiss.

They broke apart to Robyn's loud cheer followed by the pointed clearing of the throat of the elevator bellman. Hob laughed and pressed his forehead against Dream's, holding onto his hand tightly as they made their way to the exit. Perhaps it would end horribly, perhaps it was a dream not meant to last, but...

Dream didn't let go of his hand for the rest of the night.

Or on the flight home.

Or on the car ride back to his house.

Or when he offered the use of his guest room in return for Dream's kindness.

Or, when, three weeks later, he admitted that he had fallen in proper love, and he wanted Dream to stay.

Dream didn't let go, and Hob let himself believe in the magic of happily ever after.

[in-a-mountain-pool]

The Boy Who Swallowed a Dragon's Fire

Aemond Targaryen x Original Character (Reader)

pronouns: She/her (afab)

rating: T

warnings: So fluffy it made me feel sick~

word count: 4500+

summary: Interesting things did seem to happen, but always to somebody else. This is, until the night of the hunt to celebrate your younger sister's marriage to her Lannister lion of a husband.

"You live inside my memories, you live forever into the melody of a brook, in the colour of this sky, in the fragrance of flowers."

The Promise of the World

authors note: I have returned from my holibobs! I've been listening to Joe Hisaishi for weeks as I've been lucky enough to get tickets to see him in London! I couldn't stop thinking about Aemond whenever I heard "A Walk in the Skies" from Howl's Moving Castle, and suddenly this little plot bunny formed. As always, likes, comments and reblogs are not a requirement, but lovely to return to. Huge thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs and @bottlesandbarricades for reading over this!

You had always hated the hunt.

Even more so the feasts afterwards and the raucous way the men would stomp around in all their armour and grandeur, proud to be covered in the blood of whatever poor animal they'd had the dumb luck to stumble upon in the woods.

The grounds of the Eyrie were covered in a rainbow patchwork of tents of all shapes and sizes. From the sky blue and silver colours of your own family to the deep black and red hues of the house of the dragon; anyone who was anyone was in attendance for this summer's eve. Smoke and the smells of spoils of barbecued boar and deer filled the air, spilt wine and blood-soaked deep into the ground beneath their feet. 

And all of this, was to celebrate the wedding of your younger sister, the Lady Myranda Arryn, to her golden Lannister Lion of a husband. 

You were the second daughter of the Lord of the Vale, and much to your parent’s despair, the only remaining daughter unmarried; the Lady Robyn Arryn. You had been overlooked almost all of your life, the short one with mousy brown hair and a face you had been told was 'fair but plain' on more than one occasion. When you had been lined up to greet the crowds of prospective Lord's your father had hoped to wed you to, yours was a face they often forgot. 

Whilst your sisters had spent their opening seasons being dragged onto the dance floors of halls all over Westeros, you had often remained on the sidelines, slipping out as early as possible to peruse the vast libraries of the great houses you had been so lucky to visit. You still remembered the day you visited the libraries of the Red Keep after the wedding of King Viserys and Alicent Hightower. Even at the innocent age of five it had left a great impression on your mind and soul.

Ever since, your heart had ached to read every book you could get your hands on, to visit the great citadel at Hightower and to seek out the secrets of the magical world around you. The smell of an old library full of scrolls and parchment was your idea of home, of heaven… yet here you were sitting in a muggy tent at an ungodly hour, pretending to seem impressed when your new golden-haired brother-in-law brandishes the pike he'd used to gut the very boar you were eating. 

You can hardly hide the distaste on your face as he shoves the pike into his squire’s hands and takes a long swig from an obnoxiously large tankard of ale, with a bejewelled lions head on the side, before pulling your sister onto his lap to stick his tongue down her throat. 

With a snivelling sneer he proclaimed out loud, "I do not know what a finer conquest is, the boar I stuck this morn, or the falcon I'm going to stick tonight!"

The room explodes with the sounds of the laughter of drunken men, slamming their glasses on tables and cheering on the young lion who currently had his hand up your younger sister’s skirt.

You could hardly stand it, the disrespect, the brazen attitude of it all. Memories of your sister's childhood rush through your mind, her love of the great romantic knights, tales of gentle touches, roses and chivalry… none of which were present in this tent, at this lavish wedding party. Bile raised in your throat as a deep-seated anger filled your body, and you stand up suddenly to speak, the throw pillows underneath you falling to the ground.

Before you can spit out your vitriol, you feel a large hand on your shoulder. It was your father. He pulls you to the side pressing a goblet of wine into your hands, whispering harshly to you over bards playing the Rains of Castamere. You swore they'd already played it at least five times this eve.

"Robyn. You will do well to remember yourself. The Lannisters are family now. You should be proud of your young sister. Tis’ a good match." 

You barely get to open your mouth in protest when you notice your father’s eyes flash to someone across the room, and before you know it, his hand is pressed to your back, guiding you towards a crooked old man who must have been at least twice your age. 

"Lord Royce! Have you met my fair Daughter, Lady Robyn?" 

Lord Royce looks you up and down with a disgusting glint in his eye, licking his lips to catch the wine he'd almost poured down his chin just a second before. You see he has a few teeth missing, and a slight shaking in the hand clutching at his wine. 

"I do believe we have; I was present at her christening in the Sept of Baelor. My, how she has grown. A Lady now indeed." He drawls, slurring his words.

Your father gives him a tight smile and gestures between you both drunkenly, before shooting you a glare and all but shoving you towards the older man, "Well then, you will have much to talk about and catch up on! Mayhap a dance on this joyous of occasions?"

"Father, I-" There was no time to express your displeasure, for Lord Royce had already dragged you to the centre of the tent, his gnarled hand wrapped around yours in a vice grip and his ringed fingers digging into your skin painfully. He spun you around in time with the other dancers, his hand lingering on your waist for all too longer than necessary at every opportunity. The smell of his breath was pungent and rotten as he leaned forward to whisper into your ear.

"To think I have not laid eyes on you since you were a babe." Lord Royce's hand slips down your waist to your hip and further still to squeeze at the soft swell of your behind with a wicked chuckle. "You are a babe no longer it seems…"

A soft yelp escapes your throat, your eyes wide with shock and fear. No one had even noticed you shriek, the music too loud, the flow of wine too heady, the heat of the night all too great. You wretch your body away from him in distaste.

"My Lord, forgive me but you forget your manners! Touch me again and I will summon my sword." 

A cruel grin spreads across his face, his missing teeth giving a lispy rasp to his voice as he suppresses his own laughter. "It makes no difference to me, I am afraid. Your sword is soon to be my sword, my dear. Tis' already decided. We had best practice our dances, for soon we will be dancing at our very own wedding feast."

 A cold chill runs down your spine as the reality of the situation hits you like a bucket of ice-cold water. Father planned to marry you to Lord Royce. He needed to secure his Bannerman. You were the last unmarried daughter. It was two birds with one stone. 

You stumble backwards, almost tripping on a discarded tankard on the floor of the tent, shaking your head over and over. It couldn't be true. Surely Father wouldn't be so heartless? Your vision tunnels as your feet carry you away hastily out of the tent and into the humid summer air, all to the sound of Lord Royce's cruel laughter.

Your slippered feet ache as you run away, disoriented and panting, tears streaming down your face. Shakily you grab a black discarded cape hung on the back of a chair, shrouding yourself and running as fast as you can through the hunt. 

Colours of the great houses flash you by, the white falcon, the rich gold and reds of the lion, the silver wolf, all passing over you in a blur… and when you finally stop, you've ran so far you had hardly noticed the colours had turned black as night, with the blood red sigil of the three-headed dragon flying lazily upon banners in the dull summer's breeze. 

You were no longer in the Lion's den; you'd wandered somewhere far more frightening… straight into the Dragon's hoard. Only your father, sister and her new husband had been allowed into the royal tents, to present themselves to the good King Viserys. If they caught you here alone and unchaperoned your reputation would be ruined.

With shaking hands, you wrap the dirty cloak around your shoulders tighter to hide the rich azure blue of your dress, as you creep away from the large tents and towards the woods at the outskirts of the camp. It was either you brave the dangers of the wood for the night, or return to the clutches of Lord Royce.

With a heavy heart you plunge deeper into the darkness of the woods. Settling upon a tree stump beside a small creek, your gaze falls upon your once silver slippers, now ruined and caked in mud. There was once a time when you would have cared about such a thing, but now all you could feel was numbness in your soul which made your whole body cold. Your hands were tied and there was nowhere to run. Life was not a beautiful song, or a romantic tale of heroes and great loves. You break into a sob, burying your face into your hands, heaving breaths leaving your chest.

You had done well to get away without an arranged marriage for this long. At the age of twenty-five you had come to be considered an old maid amongst the court. Now, gone was the age of innocence, and the dreams that you might one day experience true love. 

*Crack* 

The silence of the wood and the night air was broken by the snapping of twigs underfoot, as slowly from the distance two figures emerged from the brush. Your body freezes as you see the sigil on their breastplates. A shower of pebbles upon an orange square. It was two knights sworn to the House Royce. They saunter over to you smirking, as you scurry off the stump to lean against a great oak trunk protectively. The larger of the two men places his hand to lean just above your head, peering down at you with a smirk.

 "Looks like a little falcon chick has lost her way."

 You shake your head nervously, paling as you realise that you are so deep into the woods that no one would hear you scream. No matter how hard you try. 

"No- No, I'm not lost. I-"

They share a look between them, reeking of ale and blood.

"I think this little falcon chick looks thirsty. I think we should take her for a cup of ale, don't you? Lord Royce wouldn't mind."

His eyes flicker to yours with a glassy look, he was drunk, they both were. And you'd heard stories of what drunk men like him did to women like you.

"No, no thank you. My sister will be expecting me."

They lean closer still, the smaller one getting so close you can feel the heat of his body towering over you.

"She's pretty cute for a little falcon chick. How old are you, anyway? You live up in the big castle, dontcha?" He tries to grab at your wrist, but you wrestle it away violently.

"Leave me alone!"

The taller man chuckled darkly, shooting a derisive look at the shorter knight, "You see? Your big old beard always scares off the pretty girls."

"So? I'd say she's even cuter when she's scared, don't you think?" 

You decide your only chance is to run. You'd never outrun them, but you had to try. Blood starts pumping through your veins, the adrenaline hitting you as you get ready to sprint, but as soon as you try to retreat away your back hits something hard and warm… and a slender hand places itself gently on your shoulder.

A deep voice speaks down into your ear, tickling warmly at the soft skin of your neck.

"There you are sweetheart, sorry I'm late. I was looking everywhere for you."

The two men stand up straighter ready to fight with their hands upon the hilts of their broadswords.

"Hey- can you not see that we're busy here? Lord Royce wants her back in one piece." 

The cloaked man behind you grips your shoulder tighter still, almost protectively. The only part of him visible to you is the curling of his lips, which seemed to twitch at the knight's words uneasily. The deep voice behind you lets out a dark chuckle before he brandishes a large sword with a black hilt, shining in the moonlight… Valyrian steel.

"Are you really? It looked to me that the two of you were just leaving."

At the sight of Valyrian steel the two men cower and shift themselves quickly, bowing at the mystery man and sprinting off into the dark of the wood. Slowly the tall man takes down his hood, and the first thing that strikes you is the glinting of long silver hair in the moonlight… and a single lilac eye searching yours.

It was him, Prince Aemond Targaryen. Aemond One-Eye. 

He reaches up ever so gently to take down the hood of your dirtied cloak, his finger brushing your cheek tentatively as he does so before he takes your hand in his and bows down to kiss the back of it with the ghost of a touch of his lips.

"Lady Robyn Arryn. My apologies for not finding you sooner. Where to? I will be your escort this evening."

Words fail you as he continues to hold your hand in his like it was made of porcelain. He almost has to bend down to speak to you he was so tall and imposing, yet there's a deep kindness in his eye that has you transfixed. You'd never met him, but you'd heard the stories. He was quiet and cruel. Studious. A loner through and through. And a demon with a sword. 

"Prince Aemond- I-" you try to courtesy, but he continues to hold your hand firmly, shaking his head and chuckling. 

"That won't be necessary. Now tell me, where do you wish to go? You must be desperate to brave the woods all on your own." He almost whispers as he speaks, his words delicate and falling off his tongue like the sweetest honey. 

You decide to tell the truth, you had no choice, he was the prince, and… he was startlingly handsome in a way that made your chest ache and your fingers itch.

"Please, my Prince, if you would escort me home? I- I cannot go back to the camp. I must not. My father- the Lord of the Vale, he wishes to marry me to Lord Royce the Elder and-"

Suddenly he lifts his hand to quiet you and surveys your surroundings, his sharp jawline prominent and strong against the night. He drops your hand in favour of wrapping his arm protectively around your shoulders, cradling you to his side and walking you both swiftly forward, as his silver hair tickles you at the collar of your low-cut dress.

"Don't be alarmed, but we’re being followed by more of his men. Just act normal."

Aemond is so close you can smell him. He was still wearing his riding leathers from the hunt, smelling like sweat, ash and the damp night air in a way that was all too intoxicating. There's something else there too, something smoky that you can't quite put your finger on. Aemond's touch was different from any other man that had placed their hands on you. He felt safe, warm, inviting and oh so protective of you.

You steal a look at his face in the moonlight as you walk and find he's far more beautiful than the stories give him credit for. It was true what they said that Targaryen's were closer to gods than men, for the beautiful creature next to you could hardly even be human. His profile was enough to make you ache with desire in a way no man had ever produced in you. 

*Snap* 

Another twig cracked underfoot. Aemond's face dipped down once again close to yours to whisper into your ear, watching your face carefully. 

"More of Royce's men. It would appear I am to become involved in a scandal." Aemond sighs and growls slightly in annoyance. His hand releases your shoulder and slides down, enveloping your own in a strong grip. "Now, when I say run, run, ok?"

Further twigs start to snap underfoot behind you, the sound of chainmail in the distance now impossible to ignore.

"This way. Run!" He whispers, pulling you along with him.

His long legs pelt into the ground, his cloak billowing behind him, and his silver hair shining like starlight under the full moon. It's a challenge keeping up with him, his legs are so much longer than yours, but he never let's go for even a moment. All of a sudden you're pulled into a large opening in the woods and a strange burning smell fills your nose… as you’re brought face to face with the largest dragon in the world. Vhagar.

“Wha- Prince Aemond!? What are you suggesting? You can’t be serious!” Your feet dig into the ground as you pull against him, but this only makes him grin wider and chuckle darkly. The rational part of your brain tells you he’s insane, that the stories were indeed true and that you should scream… but then a flicker of wonder appeared in your mind, the very same flicker you felt when you stood in the library in the Red Keep all those years ago.

There in front of you in the flesh was a real dragon, over 150 years old. And beside her, a silver-haired, Targaryen prince. This is it; you think to yourself. All those books you had read, all those stories of old, stories of good triumphing over evil… here was your chance to live it.

“Oh, I’m deadly serious. You do want to go home, do you not? The Eyrie is situated on the top of a mountain, as I recall. Vhagar and I can have you home and in bed safe and sound in mere moments...” He teases excitedly, before his voice and face drops to a more serious and soft tone, his long index finger coming up to raise your chin to look him directly into his eye.

“… Can you trust me?”

The sounds of shouting and swords leaving their hilts echo behind you. Your eyes shift from his striking face down to his hand as he reaches it out to you invitingly. Inhaling a deep breath and closing your eyes for a moment, you utter out an answer grasping his hand in yours.

“Yes. I trust you.”

A small smile you almost miss etches itself onto his face before he leads you swiftly over to the old dragon, pulling on a large black leather coat and passing you his dark hooded cloak.

“You will need the extra layer, my Lady. Now... May I lift you? You will need to climb up to the saddle, and I fear we do not have much time.”

A deep pink blush covers your cheeks at the thought of his strong arms carrying you. There is barely any time to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before Aemond is grasping you at the waist and thrusting you up onto the ropes leading up to Vhagar’s saddle. His hands are so large on your body that they almost encompass your middle section completely. Aemond follows closely behind, catching you a few times to steady you as your foot misses the gaps in the ropes clumsily.

You pull yourself up with a strength you never knew you had, settling into the saddle nervously. You could feel Vhagar breathing underneath you, feel her stretching out at the command of Aemond who was shouting out words in a tongue you’d never heard before. Of course… he was speaking High Valyrian.

“Rȳbagon naejot nyke, Vhagar. Heed ñuha udra.” Ready yourself, Vhagar. Heed my words.

Aemond all but jumps up to the saddle, and with a heavy thud he settles himself behind you. When he scoots forwards to grab at the chains hanging at your side, an even deeper blush covers your face and neck, heat pooling in your stomach. The hard plane of his chest presses against your back, the top of his thighs nudging the underside of your own, now bare as you straddle the seat.

“My apologies, Lady Robyn, but I must strap us to the saddle, and you to me lest we fall.” He laughs softly as he feels you tense against him in fear. “But we won’t, I promise you. I’d never let any harm come to you.”

With deft hands he ties the chains across your lap and his, wrapping a rope around your waist to secure you to him. All at once it hits you just how crazy the situation had become.

“Prince Aemond… I’m frightened! Please, let me off! I can’t do this!”

Aemond leans forward to grab for the reins, his arms tight either side of you, and his chin just above your ear. With hushed tones, he stops you, whispering into your ear.

“Yes. Yes, you can. You are of the Vale. You are of the sky. You and I are made of the same… We own the skies, little Falcon.”

Determination fills you, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You had to do whatever it takes. You would make your own destiny. You would make it out of here. You place your hands on the reigns next to his, so small and delicate next to his large strong fists.

“That’s my girl…” He murmurs, and you swear you can feel the crinkle of his smile against your hair before he shouts out to Vhagar.

“Vhagar, ñuha jorrāelagon, urnēptre īlva se nūmāzma hen speed!” Vhagar, my love, show us the meaning of speed! 

Aemond places his hand over yours suddenly on the rope, making your heart surge.

“Hold on!”

With a deep rumble, the ground shakes, it feels like the Earth is turning when Vhagar moves to stand on her haunches. Already you are above the trees, and she had not even taken off yet. Vhagar lets out a deep roar stretching her neck into the sky, the screams of Lord Royce’s men in the woods beneath echoing around her as they scramble to run away. She stretches out her wings beating them and like a hurricane they ascend into the night sky.

The forests fade beneath you, deep greens become soft pillowy whites as you soar into the clouds together. After a short while Vhagar’s wings extend, bringing you to a slow glide just above the clouds.

“Now, straighten your posture against me… and see, you’re flying!”

A rich and infectious laugh leaves his throat as the wind surrounds you. The careful pins and ties in your hair are long forgotten, your hair now cascading behind you, flying free.

You can’t help it, you’re not sure if it’s the euphoria of the dragon flight, the drama of the night, or the way Aemond had wrapped himself around you so, but soon you’re laughing with him, exclaiming out loud in a way that was hardly lady-like.

“See? My dear, you are a natural!”

“Prince Aemond, this is incredible! Vhagar, she is magnificent!”

“Se dōna riña thinks iksā gevie, Vhagar!” The sweet girl thinks you are beautiful, Vhagar! Aemond releases a deep belly laugh, slapping the side of Vhagar’s neck fondly.

With a shaking roar, a shooting of flames and sparks spit from Vhagar’s mouth.

He cranes his neck to look at you closely, a warm smile gracing his cat-like lips. “I think she likes you, Lady Robyn! Why don’t you tell her yourself!”

“I am thoroughly impressed, Vhagar! You are a first-class dragon; I adore your spark!” You shout to the ancient dragon as loud as you can against the rushing winds, almost as if you were praising a rather large scaly cat. The rumble that leaves her jaws sounds like a purr, almost the same way her master was chuckling behind you.

Beneath you the clouds become a mismatch of greens and multicoloured tents as you approach the grounds of the Eyrie. From up here you could see the ancient castle in all its beauty. Situated in the Mountains of the Moon and surrounded by cotton clouds, at this height it almost seemed small, like a child’s playset. The waterfall, Alyssa’s tears cascaded down the side of the Giant’s Lance, reflecting off the marble walls of High Hall.

“It’s beautiful… It’s gorgeous, Aemond! It’s like a dream…” For the first time in years, you feel truly alive, and it’s all because of him.

With a whoosh of her wings, Vhagar descends towards the castle and the Maiden’s Tower and it hits you that Aemond really meant what he’d said about having you home and in bed before you knew it.

“Prince Aemond… You’re not- You don’t expect me to climb through the window?!”

A snickering laugh escapes him as he presses his head against yours. You swear for a moment you can feel him smelling your hair, the thought making your thighs clench.

“Of course not. I intend to carry you through the window.”

“What?!” You utter before he shouts over your protests to his Dragon.

“Konīr Vhagar, tegun īlva!” There Vhagar! Land us. 

Vhagar’s wings billow out behind her, as she hovers down, clutching to the mountainside and the tower, bringing you level with the balcony of your chambers.

Quietly and ever so gently, he undoes the chains around you both, and the soft rope securing you to his front. Aemond swings his legs to the side, and clambers down the ropes at Vhagar’s large neck. There’s a confident look in his eyes and a glint of warmth as he reaches his arms out towards you, one leg propped up onto the edge of the balcony.

“Come down with me… I promise I’ll catch you. Vhagar already loves you, she’ll be still.”  

You take a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling before you climb down slowly and turn to face the Prince. His words from earlier echo in your mind… Trust me.

And you did. Without any hesitation you jump from the ropes and into the warm, strong arms of Aemond Targaryen. He cradles you to him in a bridal carry, strong legs pushing you forward through the balcony doors to place you down softly on the chaise lounge next to your fireplace.

A thousand thoughts run through your head as he lingers closely to you, laying you down gently. Aemond’s lilac eye searches yours intensely, his hand still resting beneath your neck, caressing the soft hairs at the nape.

“My lady… Robyn… you were spectacular tonight,” He swallows softly as his gaze slides down to your slim neck and collarbones, whispering your house words to himself as much as you in wonder, “As High as Honor.”

Slowly, he leans forward, staring at your bottom lip passionately. Your eyes flutter shut, your eyelashes batting against your cheek. With a gentle caress of your hair, he presses the tenderest of kisses, the only kiss you’d ever had, to your lips.

It lasted but a moment, but you knew it would stay with you forever.

Aemond pulls away gingerly, his silver hair tickling your chest. Like a knight from a storybook, he stands up tall and bows, taking your hand in his to kiss at the back of it with unearthly grace.

“… My lady, do not leave your room, keep the door locked… I will return to you soon.”

He moves to leave quickly, the sound of Vhagar rumbling outside the balcony doors. Before he can clamber over the side of the fencing you find the courage to stop him, calling from your room.

“Aemond! Aemond wait… Where are you going?”

With a flick of his silver hair, he throws a radiant smile to you over his shoulder, his lilac eye shining in the moonlight.

“To see my father. You will not be wed to Lord Royce… And I plan to fly with you till the end of my days.”

[writingsofwesteros]

Wolf x lion!

The Robyn introducing her babies to the North and her family one! Please write a one shot for that!

The introductions and awkwardness ends when at night, Tywin again publicly calls her to his bad chambers. She does have a duty.

The Northern Lords kinda happy for her happy and rich marriage and Tywin's help against Ironborn. But they still hate the Lannisters.

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

The carriage silently trodden along the slightly broken road leading up to Robyn’s once only home; the thought alone had her heart tightening. The golden furs of her new house wrapped around Robyn to fight off the cold even if it did not affect her as much. Tywin made sure she wore it and it was only now she realised it was to show her off..not for any comfort of hers.

“Mama…” Her darling boy whispered as his small nap was so rudely interrupted by the look of the pout on his face. The soft giggling of the Queen and her ladies had Robyn rolling her eyes as she gently brought her babe onto her lap. “We are nearly here.” Robyn whispered; fingers brushing those locks of his as the carriage began to slow down.

“It’s cold.” He babbled and she only brought her son impossibly closer; under the furs she had been gifted by his father. “We will be inside soon.” Robyn softly whispered and pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he snuggled closer. She gently stroked his hair some more whilst resting her head back on the seat; her heart pounding away.

Cersei’s arrogance came in handy, Robyn thought to herself as she watched the Queen begin to prepare to present herself, which allowed Robyn more time to steady herself. She took more than enough time as her son only got itchy feet. “My love…” The sound of her husband’s voice reached her as Robyn shyly looked up.

Robyn unknowingly tightened her hold on her babe as she brought him onto her hip; his excitement filled eyes looking around. Tywin watched her every move; amusement and other emotions she could not describe racing through his eyes. “Thank you.” Robyn softly whispered before Tywin pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

Their arms locked as Robyn delicately stepped into the snow; the crunching echoing in the silence that hovered. Finally, Robyn gained the courage and her head lifted up. The sight of her family was enough for a soft smile to spread across her face. “Mother..” Robyn softly whispered in greeting as she was brought into a warm hug.

Gods, it was good to be in her embrace, Robyn thought as she burrowed into her mother’s neck. She had missed her so much. She never wanted this embrace to end but soon her babe was babbling and tugging on her locks for attention. A soft giggle escaped Robyn as she gently introduced her happy babe as Tywin closed in from behind.

His hand gently was placed on her hip, stroking his thumb as if reminding you of his presence. Robyn hoped the smile stayed on her face as she stepped to the side for the introductions to continue. She placed a last kiss to her mother’s cheek before moving down the line and greeting her siblings whilst ignoring the Queen’s stare.

“We should get the little lad in the warmth.” Jon whispered and their eyes locked for a moment as a warm smile tugged on her lips. “Thank you, brother.” Robyn hummed before placing an arm around his neck in an embrace. The she-wolf did not have to look around to see the stares; she could feel them on her body as she stepped away from Jon.

Still, Tywin was never far away as his hand came to collect hers. His free hand moved through their son’s hair. In front of everyone’s view; he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Robyn’s temple. His claim was heard loud and clear. “Shall we go inside, love?” Tywin hummed; just loud enough for people to eavesdrop. 

“Of course..” Robyn hummed and only brought her son impossibly closer as she looked over her shoulder to her mother once more. Her eyes were covered in shock as Robyn slowly turned to see Cersei’s smirk still on her face. Tywin’s hand slowly moved up and down her back as he guided her into the room; her old family guards bowing their heads as familiar Lords came into view.

~

“Did you have to ask for me in front of them all?” She began to whimper into her Lord husband’s ear as her body began to move. His hands stroking up and down her sides as she settled on his lap; his fat cock stuffed inside her weeping, creamy pussy. His slacks only pushed down for his cock to be free whilst her beautiful, bare body was on full display.

“Yes…why, was there a problem with me doing so?” Tywin hummed and tried to keep his desire at bay, for now. A soft blush made its way over her cheeks as she stared down. Why did he not see the problem, she whimpered to herself. Tywin only moved his hips; his hands brushing to her arse and beginning to palm at her.

Those long locks of hers cascading down her back as he pulled her impossibly close. Her legs began to shake with pleasure. “Hmm, do you not want to do your duty?” He purred into her ear; knowing Robyn still did not know how to come to terms with enjoying this. Her soft, ample breasts continued to bounce in his face so tauntingly. 

“Yes…I do my duty.” Robyn whimpered breathlessly as her head fell back in pleasure. “I know you do.” Tywin hummed. “You do it so perfectly.” The old lion whispered sweet praises in her ear that had Robyn melting. A soft blush as ever came across her face as she leaned in; their noses brushing together for a moment.

Tywin was quick to passionately capture her soft lips. HIs fingers moved into her locks now and brought Robyn against him. He brushed her locks to one side before pressing soft, open mouthed kisses down her neck. The marks he was planting on her soft skin now would be there for all to see in the coming days.

“I want another heir..” Tywin hummed; chewing on her neck some more as she shivered against him at the comment. “Tywin….he’s only just a year…” Robyn hiccuped in pleasure as she tried to argue her point. The old lion only hummed as he began to manipulate her movements as his own thrusts quickened and pushed deep.

He tugged on her locks and caused Robyn to gasp out, as Tywin leaned in and forced his tongue down her throat. Her eyes only widened as she whimpered; collapsing onto his chest as her stomach tightened even more. Tywin groaned as she fluttered around him as her own bouncing began to quicken whilst she chased her release.

Tywin only lent back and enjoyed the ride she was giving him. His smirk never left his face as his hands moved towards her arse. His free hand slowly moved to her soft, bouncing breast and began to palm her. His thumb teasing her pebbled nipple that was still so sensitive. Tywin pinched them and watched as his little she-wolf loudly cried out.

He pinched them again whilst reaching for her other one as Robyn began to lose whatever control she had left. Tywin gently cupped her face; his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as she shook against him whilst her orgasm ripped through her. Robyn squirted around his still thrusting cock as her body could only take what he gave her.

Tywin only kept her impossibly close as his thrusts quickened. His palming of her is becoming harsher now. He spread her cheeks apart as her squirting continued each time she moved up and down. Robyn’s eyes squeezed shut as his thumb slowly hooked into her other hole. “Taking everything I give you, hmm, pretty girl?”

His taunting continued throughout the evening as he pushed his cum deeper inside her again and again.

TAGLIST

@aerangi

@paola-carter

@girlonfireice

@groovy-lady

@casualheartadorable

[rinasunny]

Red Eye (2005) Early Screenplay Trivia

First of all, I'm very sorry for clogging your Red Eye/Jackson x Lisa feed with DVD commentary. I was planning to do the same with the final shooting script but I guess it will just one post with the juiciest stuff (and just give the link to the script with highlited Jackson/Lisa stuff).

Now, to the main topic of the post. In 2011 someone nicknamed "cougarlady" posted a link for Red Eye's early script draft by Carl Ellsworth on Cillian Murphy's fan forum (https://cillianforum.proboards.com/thread/4257/original-red-eye-script). The bad news is the link currenty doesn't work. The good news is one printed copy of that script still exists. If you have spare 169$ you can purchace it on e-bay (https://www.ebay.com/itm/353755359870). Another good news: some lucky fellas on the forum shared their impressions regarding the script so we have some bits and pieces of the early movie script, which is quite different from the final product. So here's what they

One more important thing to consider (it wasn't discussed on the forum) - Lisa and Jackson were meant to be older (5-10 years) than Rachel and Cillian were at the time of shooting. Especially given that Wes' first dream casting were Sean Penn and Robyn Wright (who were married at the time btw).

Lisa's backstory was different: she wasn't raped but lost her husband instead (he died). Also she had an affair with Keefe at some point. (accoriding to Cyraus)

Speaking of Keefe, he was meant to be a businessman, he only became a polititian after test screenings. (this wasn't mentioned on the forum, but you can find it out in DVD commentary and interviews maybe).

Rippner was the one to stand up to irritated passanger (Lisa didn't take part in it, I guess). (accoriding to Cyraus)

Jackson seems to be much more cruel and cold-hearted than Cillian's rendition. Users described him as narcissist and sociopath. "Also, this Script-Rippner seemed very inconsequent about his feelings for Lisa. He seems to REALLy hate her at some parts." (quote by iseebutterfly)

Jackson threatens Lisa to kill not only Joe, but her entire family. It seems like he killed her grandmother, unfortunately no context, 'cause in the movie the last part would make no sence. (according to cougarlady)

Funny enough Jackson has no tangible evidence that he can order kill anyone (unlike the movie). (according to cougarlady)

And despite this the chemistry is still present. "I love the scene where he kisses her forehead, even if just to unsettle her, but I hate that the took away this thing they had, this weird chemistry, neither of them could explain." (quote by iseebutterfly)

The early script doesn't have the lavatory scene yet. (accoriding to Cyraus)

"The part where he has her in his clutches ready to break her neck with his mouth crawling over her almost makes up for not having the lavatory scene." (quote by Cyraus)

A little bit about Jackson's name. Given his "No Lie" rule (at least when it comes to Lisa) the watchers assume it is his real name. However, Wes said in one of interviews that it is made up (to suit Lisa's father initials). A this is quite confusing tbh. Anyway the early draft suggests that Jackson's real name is... George King. And you thought Jack Rippner was bad... Although there is no consensus on whether or not "George" is his real name either. (according to Cyraus, cougarlady and iseebutterfly)

Jackson and Lisa had a dialogue where Lisa said that his is fucked. His replies are "Lisa, that language doesn't suit you." and "If you don’t look at me, you’ll get a glimpse of just how f*cked I am." There's no context unfortunately. (according to Cyraus and Cait)

The ending was different. They do not specify it. But from what we know from DVD commentary, the final fight in the Reiserts' house was Wes's idea.

P.S.: I probably missed something, so I suggest to check out the forum page yourself.

[mrworldwideshoulders]

where love finds us || reader x knj

Pairing: reader x KNJ Word count: 5.4k Rating: PG-13+ Genre: established relationship au, fluff (like a lot), (light) angst, the teensiest implied smut for good measure Summary: An evening with your fiancé's parents to celebrate their anniversary has the two of you reflecting on how lucky you both are to be in each other’s life – even if it took a long time for you to get there. Inspired by If I Knew by Bruno Mars. Warnings: discussion of ~feelings~, discussion of pregnancy, cute romantic moments, joon keeps trying to touch reader’s butt (hehe), tongue kissing (bleurgh), reader is a child of divorce and has ~trauma~ A/N: hi! this fic is a giant sticky sweet glob of sap. please forgive me (or don’t) and be sure to check your blood sugar at the end to make sure you haven’t gone into diabetic shock. i know it’s out of order but this is the same couple as the one from the way you look tonight (shameless plug) though both can be read as standalone oneshots if ya want. i freakin love this fic so i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing. beta’d and bannered as always by the amazing april (@onmypillow-onmytable​)! thx! ly - robyn T/N: eomeonim = used when speaking to one’s mother-in-law, specifically on the husband’s side; abeonim = the same thing but for father-in-law. PS. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers lately (eeeeee) – thanks for joining me! if you’d like to be added to any taglists, just ask in the notes or in my dms or the ask me a question thingy :) PPS. I do not own BTS or their likenesses, nor do I own the music of Bruno Mars (lol), they just inspire me.

part of the unorthodox jukebox collection (masterlist)

You check your reflection and fidget nervously while you're waiting for your fiancé to get out of the car, making sure the skirt of your dress is laying the way it's supposed to, that the clasp of your necklace hasn't shifted around to be in the front instead of the back the way necklaces do sometimes, checking in the mirrors to make sure your lipstick hasn't smudged. You were supposed to be here earlier – much earlier – but the festivities are already in full swing, due to the unexpected obstacle of trying (and failing) to drag Namjoon out of the house in a timely manner. His parents' anniversary party has been on the books for weeks. He knows that. It's like everything goes in one ear and out the other these days, no matter how often you swear you've reminded him. It's frustrating, really. Namjoon is practically a genius. He can remember the most obscure bits of trivia to insert randomly into casual conversation and quote long passages of literature verbatim – yet he can never seem to remember where he's supposed to be or when he's supposed to be there. His best friend Jin keeps making cracks about how he’ll probably be so immersed in whatever it is he’s doing beforehand that he’ll end up being late to his own wedding – which would be funny if it weren’t one of your exact fears. Deep breaths, y/n. Deep breaths, you tell yourself, exhaling, envisioning all of your irritation drifting away like dandelion fluff. 

"You almost forgot this." Namjoon hands you a carefully wrapped box as he gets out of the car. He looks you up and down and smiles. Damn that smile. It's almost enough to erase all of the morning's frustrations. "Gosh, you're beautiful. Have I ever told you that?"

"You may have mentioned it a time or two," you say, tilting your head with a sly smile. "You're not so bad yourself." You reach up to straighten his collar. "That’s a nice suit. Dressing to impress?" Your fiancé always looks ten times better in a blazer, as opposed to his more relaxed everyday style, despite him always complaining of being too hot in suits.

He glances down sheepishly. "Ah, you know. Just threw on the first thing in my closet."

"I like it. Did your girlfriend buy it for you?" 

"My fiancée picked it out, actually. Her taste is very discerning.” Namjoon chuckles, giving you a quick flash of that adorable dimple in his left cheek. "She chose me out of all people when she’s so amazing she could have had anyone.” He leans in and drops a kiss on your forehead. "Kind. Intelligent. Great kisser. Too wonderful for words. I can't even hold a candle to her."

“Sappy.” You give his lapel a tug. “Come on. We’re already late.” 

“Hey, it doesn’t matter when you come, you’re never late for a party.” 

“Says the man who’s late to every party.”

The atmosphere inside is lively, filled with party chatter and the sound of music playing from somewhere. “Ah, y/n, Joonie, you’re here!” exclaims Namjoon’s mother, pushing her way through the crowd to wrap you tightly in a hug. “Welcome! It’s about time.”

“We were beginning to wonder,” adds Mr. Kim, “but then we remembered who you were dealing with here.” He pats Namjoon on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Be careful, son, or y/n might decide she’s tired of putting up with you before you’re even married.” 

“I’m…working on it,” mutters Namjoon, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Looking for a way to change the subject, you remember the box you’re holding. “Abeonim, eomeonim, this is for you.” You hold it out to them. “Happy anniversary.” 

Your mother-in-law takes it from you and pulls you into another hug. “Oh, y/n, thank you! How lovely! You shouldn’t have.” She cuts a knowing glance at Namjoon. “Joonie, why did it take you so long to ask this one to marry you? I thought you were supposed to be smart.” 

“I have no idea,” sighs Namjoon. 

“Anyhow, you two enjoy the party,” she continues. “There’ll be toasts later, so stick around.” Your mother-in-law winks and disappears with her husband. 

You peer around at your fiancé's face. He looks a touch dazed. “You okay?”

“Oh…yeah,” he says. “I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting all that as soon as we walked in. Well…shall we?” Namjoon motions in the general direction of the party.

“Absolutely.” You loop your arm through your fiancé's and look up at him, as the pair of you weave through the mass of party guests. "Do you think they'll like it?”

“Hm?” says Namjoon absently. “Like what?” 

“The present, Joon. The one you handed me not ten minutes ago?”

Realization appears on his face. “Oh, sure. Definitely.”

You poke him in the arm. “You don't even remember what we got them, do you?”

“Of course I do. We got them, that, uh, thing. For the kitchen. It’s a kitchen thing. Right?”

“No.” You sigh. “It’s a vase. For decoration. Namjoon, you were sitting right next to me when I ordered it. And you helped me pick it out. How could you have already forgotten what it was?”

“Because that was like a month ago, and you know I can’t remember anything unless I’m reminded about it a million times? And if it’s remotely breakable, like I know most vases are, you wouldn’t let me anywhere near it anyway.” He leans over to plant a kiss on your cheek, before you can open your mouth to chide him. “They’ll love it, y/n. I know they will. My parents adore you. You could gift-wrap a rock and they’d love it because it’s from you. Me, on the other hand…" Namjoon makes a tsking noise with his tongue. “It'd just be a rock in a poorly-wrapped box if it came from me. You know, I’m getting the feeling they might like their future daughter-in-law better than their own son.” 

“Of course they like you.” You reach up, patting him on the chest. “I mean, how could they not? You’re their pride and joy, Doctor Kim.”

“It’s still just Professor Kim for now,” he corrects you gently, though he looks amused. “I won’t be finished with my dissertation for another year, and I still have to defend it before anyone can call me Doctor.” 

"Even so. You're already Dr. Kim in my eyes." 

He smiles and opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but gets interrupted by another party guest approaching. The interloper is one of Namjoon’s aunts, who can’t stop gushing over the two of you. “You make such an adorable couple, it would have been such a shame if one of you couldn’t make it,” she exclaims warmly, beaming from ear to ear. “When’s the big day again?” 

“Second week of May,” you answer, glancing bashfully at Namjoon, who squeezes your hand and smiles. 

“Oh, not long now! It’ll be here before you know it.” She pats Namjoon’s arm with a knowing smile. “You’d better behave yourself until then, Joonie.” 

The faintest hint of a blush finds its way onto his cheeks. “I always do, Auntie.” 

“Tch! I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Namjoon sighs as she disappears back into the crowd. “What a piece of work.” 

“She’s just happy for us.” 

“I know. Everyone is. Of course I am too. But I haven’t heard the end of it from any of them since they met you. It’s all, ‘don’t let this one get away,’ and ‘behave yourself, Joonie.’ As if they think I’m going to scare you away months before I finally get to marry you.” He leans over, his voice a low whisper in your ear. “If they only knew what we get up to when no one else is around. I wonder if they'd still be telling me to behave myself.”

“We’re in public,” you whisper back, cheeks burning. “Maybe you should listen to them.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” His hand drifts to rest on your ass, giving it a small pinch. “You know I can’t help myself around you. And everyone knows you drive me crazy.” 

Now your ears are burning too. “Well, try.” You gently move his hand and give him a pointed look. “Please? Your parents are right there.” You look pointedly in the direction you last saw them.

“Y/n, they’re not even looking at us. Nobody is. And you can’t seriously think everyone expects us not to touch each other just because—” Namjoon starts, but stops at your slight frown. “All right, fine. I will attempt to contain myself if it bothers you that much.” If you’re not mistaken you’d say he almost looks wounded. “You do realize we will have to kiss each other at the wedding, right? In front of people? We could do a lot worse than a few public displays here and there.”

“Yeah, well, let’s test that theory another time.” Your voice comes out harder than you mean for it to. 

“Okay. Duly noted.” His tone is clipped. “Am I allowed to hold your hand, at least? Or is that off-limits too?”

“If that’s the way you feel about it, then maybe you just shouldn’t hold it at all.” You pull it away, letting out a frustrated huff. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I’m just nervous, that’s all. You know I get uncomfortable around lots of people. Even if they are lots of people who know and love you, because they’re people I haven’t met yet.”

“Yes. I get that.” Namjoon sighs. “But you got so touchy all of a sudden, and when have we ever been shy about that kind of thing?”

“Never,” you murmur. 

“Exactly. I just have to wonder if everything’s okay, that’s all.” He takes both of your hands, his large ones nearly covering yours. “Everything is okay, right? I know I’ve been busy lately. We both have. That’s no excuse, but—” 

“No, everything’s fine.” You shake your head, despite feeling like it’s the opposite. “Forgive me. I don’t know what my problem is today.”

“It’s okay. I worry about you, that’s all.” Namjoon smiles, but it seems a touch forced. “We should make the rounds, yeah? Say hello to everyone?” 

You plaster on a smile to match his. “Yeah. Let's do that.”

His hand stays firmly tucked in his pocket the whole time, except for the few times it brushes against yours, which makes him pull it away as if he’s been shocked. You find yourself missing all of his little touches: a hand on your waist, on the small of your back, your neck, your shoulder. You’d forgotten just how physical he is with his affection, and you’re beginning to wish you hadn’t snapped at him and just let him touch your ass like he wanted, relatives be damned. 

Kyung-min, Namjoon’s sister, eyes the two of you suspiciously the whole time you’re talking to her. “What’s going on with you two?” she demands, mostly addressing Namjoon. “You’re both acting super sketchy. Are you in a fight?” Her gaze turns to you. “Y/n, you can tell me if he’s being a jerk. I can handle him. Seriously.” She glares back at her brother.

“No!” You shoot a glance at him. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine, right, Joon?”

“Right!” He smiles, almost imperceptibly. “Just some…pre-wedding jitters. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” She narrows her eyes. “Sure. Let me know how that works out.”

You sigh softly and watch Namjoon for a moment. He’s watching Kyung-min leave, his one free hand still tucked in his pocket, a drink in the other. You pull gently on his sleeve to get his attention. “Joon, I think I’m going to step outside for a minute. Get some air. It’s a little hot in here.”

“Oh.” His eyebrows lift in surprise. “Uh – do you want me to come with you?”

You shake your head and feign a smile. “No, that’s all right. You stay here. Have fun.”

“Okay, well…I’ll be here.” He raises his glass slightly.

The lanai is deafeningly quiet compared to the clamor inside, giving you a chance to finally sort through your jumbled thoughts. It’s nearly dusk already and you stare distractedly at the sun gradually beginning to sink behind the trees and houses in the distance. “Oh, why did you have to go and snap at him over nothing?” you mutter to yourself. “So what if he touched your ass? You’re about to marry the man. Is this what we do now? Blow up over nothing?” Your hands clench anxiously at the sides of your skirt. Sure, he’s busy. So are you. You could just chalk it all up to the very fact that weddings are just stressful. Exciting – but stressful. But is it really just the stress of planning the wedding that’s getting to you? Or is it something else? We’re happy…aren’t we? Is this how it starts? Does every relationship have the potential to end in anger? Resentment? No matter how happy and well-intentioned things are at the beginning? Am I just doomed to be unlucky in love because of the way I watched my parents’ marriage unravel? You close your eyes tightly and try to calm your breathing the way you did before – deep breaths, in and out – but it doesn’t work this time. 

The sliding glass door opens behind you, and you turn around quickly, startled. It’s Namjoon’s mother, looking puzzled. “Y/n? What are you doing sitting out here by yourself? I would have thought you and Namjoon would be attached at the hip this close to the wedding.” 

“Eomeonim,” you say, standing up. “Hello. I just…needed some air, that’s all.” And some space, from my fiancé, who loves me. Sure.

She sits down on the bench and motions for you to join her. “What’s wrong?” she says. “Are you not enjoying yourself? Do you not feel well? Should I go find Namjoon?” 

“Oh, no.” You wave your hands. “I’m all right. And the party’s lovely. Nothing to bother Namjoon with.” 

“Just between us girls, then. What’s the matter?” She narrows her eyes. “Did Namjoon do something?”

"No!" You shake your head. "Nothing like that. It's just…" You draw in a breath. "I see him every day. I talk to him every day. But I feel like we haven’t really spoken in weeks. He might as well be a million miles away, even though he’s right there in front of me." Your fingers twist together in your lap. "He didn’t even remember we were supposed to be here today until I reminded him an hour before we were supposed to leave. After that I snapped at him over such a small thing that I don't even remember why I was so annoyed with him.” 

“But that’s not all, is it?” she asks.

You shake your head. “I know he’s got a lot on his plate with his paper, and I thought I could handle some of the wedding stuff on my own so he wouldn’t have to worry about it. I didn’t mind that too much. But there were some things I just wanted his input on, small things that wouldn’t take all that much thought, but no matter what I ask him he just says whatever I pick is fine and that he trusts my judgment. So I started to wonder, does he even care? Would he even notice if I didn’t show up? The wedding is two months away and I'm scared that we aren't on the same page anymore, that things have changed – and that maybe we're not meant to be together." Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm being silly. Look at me, making everything about myself.” 

"Oh, y/n. Sweetheart." She pats your hand. "It's not silly. Lots of couples feel this way sometimes, especially right before the wedding. Marriage is a big commitment. It's natural to question whether it's the right thing to do. You love him, right?"

You nod. "More than I've ever loved anyone." 

"And I know for a fact that Namjoon loves you too, even if he's not very good at showing it sometimes. So just talk to him. Clear the air, and tell him how you're feeling. He'll understand. The two of you will work it out, whatever it is." She tucks you into a soft hug. “I should be getting back to the party. Come and join us whenever you’re feeling better, all right?”

You nod and manage a watery smile. “Thank you for listening, eomeonim. And congratulations again. Thirty years – that’s special.”

“Thank you, dear.” She smiles kindly. “It takes two. You’ll get there someday.” 

“Yeah.” You fiddle with your hands, smiling to yourself. “I hope so.” 

You wait a few minutes after she’s gone to compose yourself before you go back inside, weaving through the crowds of people to find your fiancé. He’s easy to spot, lingering by himself near the front corner of the main room, hands tucked deep in the pockets of his jacket. He cuts a handsome figure standing there by himself, staring off into space, with the light of golden hour glowing behind him, and you have to stop for a moment, struck suddenly by how good-looking the man you’re going to marry is, on top of being one of the kindest people you’ve ever known. His face brightens noticeably when he sees you approaching. “There you are.” Namjoon smiles softly. “I was starting to wonder if I should come looking for you.” 

“Oh, Joonie.” You wrap your arms around him in a quick hug, resting your head against his chest. “Just the person I wanted to see.”

“What’s all this?” He sounds surprised but wraps his arms around you anyway. “Is everything okay?” His brown eyes search the insides of yours, crinkling with concern. 

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. I was just wondering…would you take a walk with me? The sun is about to set, and I thought we could find a place to watch it. And talk, while we’re at it.” 

“That sounds nice.” Namjoon takes your hand, twining his long fingers through yours. “Let’s go, then.” He guides you outside to a small walking trail behind his parents’ house that runs along the side of a creek. “I used to come down here all the time when I was a kid,” he says. “Mom would practically have to drag me inside for dinner when the weather was nice.” 

“Aw. I bet you were cute when you were little.” 

“Eh.” He shrugs. “I was. But I’m much cuter now.”

“That’s different.” 

“I’ll just have to show you the pictures, then. Maybe we can get Mom to dig them out later.” Namjoon’s sleeve brushes against your bare arm. He glances down. “Those shoes aren’t hurting your feet, are they?”

“My feet are fine, but thanks for asking. These shoes are actually pretty comfortable.”

“Really? They don’t look comfortable. I’m happy to carry you. Or the shoes. Either one. I don’t mind.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll live. What about you? You're not too hot, are you?”

“Well, I might boil to death, but it’ll be worth the sacrifice, I think, if my fiancée thinks I look nice.”

You manage a smile, but it doesn’t last for long. You take a deep breath and drop your head. “I’m sorry, Joonie. I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier.”

“Baby, is that still bothering you?” Namjoon turns to you and lifts your head to look at him. “I told you it was okay.”

“Is it really?” You watch his face. “You looked so hurt when I yanked my hand away that I thought—”

“Yes, y/n. I meant what I said. Of course I was hurt, but it's not worth staying mad over. Not to me, anyway.” 

"But…" Your mind goes back to earlier. "You didn't touch me the whole time we were talking to everyone." Your voice almost sounds petulant.

Namjoon laughs suddenly. “I was trying to behave myself, like you asked me to. And do you know how difficult it was for me to keep my hands to myself for that long when the most beautiful woman in the room was standing right next to me the whole time? So difficult. I might actually deserve some kind of compensation for it.” 

“How was I supposed to know that?" you demand. "Since when have you ever listened to me when I tell you not to do something?”

He folds you securely into a hug and rests his chin on your shoulder. “Aw. You missed me, didn't you?”

“Maybe a little,” you say, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Thank you for apologizing.” He kisses you on the forehead. “But it's not necessary. Consider the whole thing forgotten, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say. “Sorry for being annoying. I was just overthinking, I guess. Being a child of divorce will do that to you.”

“Annoying? No, of course not. No one could possibly find my fiancée annoying.” Namjoon wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you further into his warmth. “Y/n, are you cold? Do you want my jacket?” He sighs. “I should have expected it would still be cool now. I would've reminded you to bring your sweater.” 

“No, Joon, it’s fine,” you start, but he’s sliding out of his blazer and draping it over your shoulders before you can finish talking. It still radiates warmth from his body heat and smells overwhelmingly like him. “You’ll look for any excuse to take your clothes off, won’t you? Or is it just that you like seeing me wearing them?” 

“Can’t it be both?” He grins playfully. “I really was about to boil to death, you know. Seeing you look all small and cute in my jacket is just a plus.”

“I’m so sure, you goofball.” You reach up to cup his chin. 

Namjoon’s face softens and his eyes drop. “I’m sorry, too, by the way.” You look at him quizzically. “If it feels like I haven’t made a lot of time for you lately, then you’re probably right. I haven’t been very present at all, to be honest. We were supposed to be planning this wedding together, but it dawned on me that with the edits on my paper and everything else that’s going on, I let most of the planning fall on you without even asking if you were okay with it. You even asked me if I was going to be okay planning a wedding when I was this far into my thesis, and I swore up and down that it wouldn’t be an issue, but here we are, two months out, and look at that – it’s an issue. You have your own responsibilities outside of the wedding, and it was selfish of me to just expect that you'd take care of it.”

You feel relieved. “How did you know that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about?” 

“I’m just that smart. But also incredibly dumb at times, because I have this very bad habit of taking the people I love for granted. Oh," he adds, "and Kyung-min overheard you talking to Mom and came to yell at me, so I put two and two together and figured it out from there.” 

"That sounds like your sister."

"She even pinched me. Hard. I’d forgotten how painful her pinches are." Namjoon rubs a hand against the top of his head. "I never meant to upset you, y/n. I just get so lost in my own little world sometimes that I forget that it’s not just mine anymore, because you’re a part of it too. It's our world. You and me. So when it happens again – and I know it will – I’m counting on you to pull me back out and keep me grounded in reality. Okay?"

“I will.” You press a soft kiss to his mouth. He leans in to deepen it further, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of your neck. His lips become more pressing, more insistent, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. Your lips part gently, allowing him in deeper. 

“I’ve missed this," Namjoon sighs between kisses. “I'm going to be happy when life settles down again, you know? Then I can go back to having you all to myself." He looks down at you, his eyes glinting mischievously. “And I can give you all the attention you deserve.”

“Is that so?” you say, as he’s leaving a trail of kisses down the side of your neck. “All the attention?”

“Mhm,” he says, face nearly buried in your shoulder. He pulls away suddenly. “You know, maybe we should just get married already. Are you sure you don't want to just call it all off and elope? Didn’t you say you didn't care how it happened as long as we ended up married at the end?" 

"If I’m remembering correctly, I believe that was you." You smile. "We met at a wedding, remember? It's only right that we give someone else the same opportunity.”

“A wedding reception,” he corrects you. “We barely knew those people, and we didn’t even go to the ceremony. We can always just elope and still have a big party.” 

“It’s only two more months,” you say, pouting slightly. “I’ve already bought the dress and everything. We're too close to call it off now. Can you imagine how disappointed your mother would be if her only son ran off and got married without telling her? She'd never forgive you."

"You can still wear the dress if we elope. And we'll make it up to her by giving her a couple of grandkids to spoil." Namjoon shrugs. "What do you think? The sooner the better, right? We could get started right away if we go ahead and make it official." His hand sneaks toward your ass. 

"I think," you say, catching his rogue hand in yours, "there’ll be plenty of time for that in a year or two, once you finish your dissertation. If I got pregnant, oh, say a month from now—”

“A month?” he protests. “I don’t think it would take me that long to get you pregnant.”

“Hypothetically, Joon.” You poke him in the arm. “Think about it. You’d be signing yourself up for a hormonal pregnant wife during the first half of the school year, and then a screaming baby keeping you awake during the second half. You barely managed planning a wedding. Do you really think you could handle that?”

"Hm, when you put it that way, I guess I can wait a little longer," he muses. "Oh, well. I suppose I just really like the idea of someone that’s a little bit you and a little bit me running around.” 

"Someone that has your eyes and nose? And a sweet little smile with a dimple to match?" you tease.

"Or maybe a little carbon copy of my beautiful wife?" Namjoon bumps his forehead against yours, grinning. "I could get used to that." He stands in silence for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "Whenever we decide the timing’s right…I think you’ll make an amazing mother.” 

“You think so?” You chuckle. “As long as their childhood isn’t anything like mine I’ll be satisfied. I don’t think I ever heard my parents have a conversation that didn’t end in a screaming match.” Your parents did nothing but fight for fifteen years before they got divorced. Your mother, for one, is much happier now that your father is out of the picture, but his seemingly never ending reserve of anger and resentment toward your mother has left you with some pretty deep scars and a fear of commitment that plagued you throughout most of your dating years. Your relationship with your fiancé is the only one that’s ever come close enough to having marriage on the table as a possibility, and it took months of him being patient, slowly working his way past all of the walls you put up for yourself over the years, to even get there. 

“It won’t be,” says Namjoon firmly. “It’ll be different. We’re different. You told me your father changed once they got married, right? I’d never do that to you.”

“Everyone changes, especially once they get married. You don’t think you will?” 

“Well, of course I’ll change.” He tilts his head to one side pensively. “I think everyone does, at least a little. I just hope it’ll be positive change. For example, the way I love you is never going to change, but how much I love you is just going to continue to grow every day.” 

“That’s a nice way of looking at it.” You smile. “I like that. I hope it’s the same for me, too.” 

Namjoon smiles down at you and takes your hand. “What we have is special,” he says. “We’re so lucky to have stumbled across each other when we did. I couldn’t have found a more perfect match in anyone else. We’re made for each other. It’s like…the stars and the planets and the whole universe lined up just for us.”

“You believe we were meant to be?” 

“Exactly. It was destiny. Fate. It was meant to happen exactly the way it happened. If Jin hadn’t dragged me out of my apartment that weekend, and Ji-eun hadn’t tried to set you up with that guy, who knows where we’d be right now?” 

"Probably on another terrible blind date that Ji-eun set up because she swore up and down that this guy is the one and totally perfect for me, and so much better than the last few that she also thought were totally perfect for me."

“And I would probably still be sitting in my apartment buried in papers, with Jin trying to convince me to come out drinking with him again.” Namjoon smiles ruefully and looks down. “Can I say something dumb really quick?” 

“Your ‘something dumb’ will probably still end up being something thoughtful and well-said, so by all means, go ahead.”

He hesitates. “I wish I’d known it was going to happen. That I was going to meet you when I did. I spent so much time thinking about my ex, everything I did wrong with her, what I could have done to keep her from breaking up with me, that I didn't even give a second thought to the fact that there might be someone better out there. Someone…like you." Namjoon tilts his head forward, pressing his forehead against yours. “If I’d known it was going to be you,” he continues, “I guess, I don’t know, I would have tried harder. Worked on myself more. Tried to be better. Something like that." He’s still smiling, but there’s regret in his eyes. 

“Oh, Joon.” You put your hands on both sides of his cheeks. “You know that’s one of the things I love the most about you? But you’ve always been enough for me. Ever since we met. You were enough for me then, you’re enough for me now, and you always will be. I love you, Kim Namjoon, just the way you are. You’re my perfect fit. Always and forever.”

"Thank you." He takes your hands in his and squeezes. "For trusting me. I know you’ve had a lot happen that would scare anyone away from commitment. I know you worry all the time about ending up just like your parents. But you overcame that. You looked past all of my flaws and agreed to spend forever with me. And every day you’re by my side you get even stronger. That’s a huge deal. I’m grateful for that. And I’m so proud of you.” 

“How could I not, when you make it so easy? When you’re so willing and patient with me?” You reach up and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m excited. To be your wife, to start a family with you, anniversaries, old and gray, the whole deal. I don’t want to be like my parents. I want us to be like yours. I want to build a life together. Something that will last forever.”

“Me too.” Namjoon smiles and hugs you closer. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He kisses the side of your head. “We’re going to make it, y/n. We’re going to go so far together, and I can’t wait. It won’t always be easy, but I’m ready to try.”

“And I’ll be right there next to you.”

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear. “Thank you for saying yes.”

“Thank you for asking,” you whisper back. “It sure took you long enough, didn’t it?”

Namjoon tosses his head back and laughs. “No one’s ever going to let me live that down, are they?”

©2023 by mrworldwideshoulders | full series masterlist | main masterlist

[thebackwoodsbarbi]

Watch "SISTER WIVES Tea! KODY Sd The Show has Been GREAT for Him #tlc #kodybrown #sisterwives" on YouTube

[georgiapeach30513]

Every Other Weekend, Part 3

Summary:  date number two with Dean, and you get a surprise at Jack’s work

Pairings:  Jack O’Malley X Reader, Dean Winchester X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  mentions of divorce, implied cheating, groping, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, angst, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  3.8K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers by @firefly-graphics​

“Hey, little man,” Callum holds his hand up for a high five as Jack and Finn walk into the station.  “I thought you were going to be with your mom this weekend,” he raises his eyebrows at Jack.  His eyes move over to a room, but Jack settles down in front of his desk, while Finn takes his seat.  “Jack,” Callum clears his throat, flicking his head to the side.

“Do you need water?” Callum shakes his head no, still moving his head over.  “What is your problem?”

“There’s a witness in room four.”

Jack sits up and looks over at the room before he bolts away.  Finn knocks a picture of the three of you onto the desk, but Cal picks it back up, only for Finn to push it over again, “What’s wrong?”

“Why is that on his desk?” Cal takes a deep breath and sits across from the little boy, “It’s because he doesn’t sit here, huh?”

“He sits there everyday,’ Finn throws his head back looking up at the ceiling, twisting the chair around.  “I think he likes thinking of happy times,” he taps his finger on the desk with a smile, “Open that drawer.”

Finn opens the door and sees more photos of him, you, and his dad.  “It’s a lie.  He won’t come home.”

“They’re working through some things, bud.”

“So he’s coming home?” Cal shrugs his shoulders, and Finn flings his body back in the chair again, “You know something I don’t know.”

“No, I know that your mom and dad really love each other.  And sometimes love is complicated.”

“Because I’m ‘perfect’ and he doesn’t want another baby.”

“It’s more than that.”

“He should have another baby with mom.  If that’s what would make her happy,” he tries to look over at the interrogation room where Jack was, but Cal stands quickly in his way.  “Why can’t I see?”

“You shouldn’t be watching witnesses, and for your dad’s sake, I hope that one is gone before your mom gets back,” pulling out his phone, Cal sends someone a text, and settles in front of the small boy.  “What do you want for Christmas?”

“School just started back.  Why are you asking me what I want for Christmas?”

“Just humor me.  I like an early list so I have time to make sure you’ve been nice instead of naughty.”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Finn pushes the picture back down, and scoots it closer to Cal.  “Is that possible for you to do?”

“I wish I had an answer, Finny.  But I don’t.  Just have some faith,” Jack waits until the woman leaves out of the building before coming back into his office.  Giving his son a smile, he absentmindedly picks the picture back up, and looks over at Cal, “You’re cutting it close.”

Jack didn’t know why Robyn felt the need to show up at his place of work, especially since he told her that Finn was going to be there.  He knew he was making a bigger mess of things, but with you having a date, it made this decision easier.

You walk up the steps of the precinct, and with only two steps into the door, Nick was crowding around you, “So…we matched.”

“Uh-huh,” you answer awkwardly, trying to avoid looking in Jack’s office.  It looked like Cal’s giant frame was blocking most of your view though.

“You hadn’t responded to my messages though.”

“I’ve been busy.  I’ve got a son every other weekend.”

“I mean…this is going to come off rude, and I don’t mean it to, but Finn does fall asleep.  We could do something at your house.”

“No,” there was no way you were bringing any man to your house.  Especially not when Finn was there.  Your home was sacred to you.  It was a home you made with Jack, and the thought of another man laying in his spot on the bed made you want to forgive him completely.

“Oh…well, this weekend?”

“I…uh, I have plans.”

“You’re not just dragging me along?  You actually want a date?  Even though your husband seems to think that you’re going to get back together.  Is this awkward?  I mean…Jack, he…he’s used this place as a…Jack,” you wished your husband wasn’t behind you.  Nick was about to spill something.

You had a sinking feeling that Jack was keeping things from you.  And the last time that happened, it was hard to recover.  Late nights at the station started happening, texts more than phone calls started happening, and your need to have a baby got stronger, and you hated that feeling.  

“You’re early,” Jack looks over at Nick oddly.  He was too close.  That man never could keep his interest in you away.  He didn’t let it be a secret, or even the random hint that he wasn’t above a threesome.  Jack did not like Nick, and he wasn’t a fan of whatever this was.  “Nick?”

“You’ll let me know something in a couple of weeks, yeah?” You smile, nodding your head at him, and still Jack glares.  

You don’t give him a chance to say anything, before you turn to walk away, “What was that?” You shrug your shoulders, but he stops you in the middle of the station, “I have a right to know what that was.”

“Nick asked me a question.”

“What did he ask you?”

He was jealous.  It was wrong to actually get a thrill out of that, but after the things he had put you through, it served him right.  In a way it made you feel more confident.  You were still desirable, when sometimes you felt less than that with him.  As of late you had felt like nothing more than a wet place for him to sink into.  

“Why are you asking?  It’s a question that doesn’t pertain to you.”

“Oh, I see what this is.  You’re ‘dating’.  TJ told me all about your little night with whoever.  You think because you’re dating you can finally go after Nick.  You should know that he’s a player.  There’s a reason why he’s still single.”

“Oh my god.  You self centered, asshole.  I’m ‘dating’.  What the hell does that even mean?  Am I not allowed to?  Are you saying you’re not talking to someone?  Remember Jack, I’m the one who pays the fucking phone bill.  Just remember why we’re here.  Why don’t you be honest with yourself,” you spin on your heels and march towards your son.  Shutting down from this conversation because you didn’t want a fight in front of Finn.

“Hey, Finny, you ready?” He gives a quick look over to Cal, and Cal smiles, tapping on his nose.  Finn returns the gesture before getting up for a hug from Jack.  You loved that Cal was a safe place for Finn.  He had almost adopted the boy as his nephew, and always gave him good advice.

“Look at you,” he stands to give you a cheek kiss.  “Finny, take care of your mom for me, and I’ll take care of your dad for you okay?”

“Okay, thanks,” Jack stands annoyed watching you as Finn gathers his things, and you wave at both men, before taking your son home.  There was a weird feeling in here, and you had to get out.

“You’re an idiot.”

“She’s not supposed to come here,” Jack sits down in his chair, and kicks his feet up on his desk.  “Tell me what I need to do.”

“For starters, quit riding the fence.  If you want to be with Robyn, let go of your wife.  If you want to be with your wife, cut Robyn off.  Simple.”

“She’s ‘dating’.”

“Quit with your stupid air quotes.  ‘Dating’,” Cal shakes his head, and goes over to his desk.  Rummaging through a few files.  “You have a beautiful wife, and you love her.  This is confusing to your son.  Both of you are confusing him.  But that…you said that you wouldn’t have Robyn around your son.  Who was here, Jack?  And your wife.  She’d recognize her.  You did this to yourself.”

“And she’s miss innocent?”

“Jack, you’re my partner.  So take what I’m saying to you as someone who cares for you, but also her, and Finn.  When you first started talking to Robyn as ‘friends’ and your wife called you out on it, you should have listened.  She became distant because of that.  Then she wanted to have a baby to make you stay and love her more.  And you refused, what does that look like?  I love you both, and if you have real feelings for your bed buddy.”

“I’m not sleeping with her!  I’m not.  I haven’t had sex with that woman ever.  Never ever.  The only woman I have slept with for nearly a decade has been my wife,” he lets his face fall in his hands, because he knows what the right answer would be.  Saw the signs of you slipping away, and he pulled away just as much.

“She’s dating because she needs to see if she’s still in love with you.  And if you’re going to do whatever the hell that is, she deserves that.  You can’t get mad at her.  But, if it makes you feel better, she does still love you.  However, she sees Robyn around you again, you know what’s gonna happen.  If you want to save your marriage, save it.  Drop the bitch.  You have me to talk to.  And that,” he points over at the photo of the three of you in your last happy family photo.

“That is worth saving, bud.  Now, we have a case.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You better.  Keep your mind off of that woman.”

“Dean, where are you taking me?” You look at the dingy building in front of you, and stop walking.  “I am not going in there.”

“Yes, you are,” he pulls you a bit harder, before stopping to bend his knees.  “Come on.  Hope on, princess.  We won’t let your feet touch the ground,” although you may giggle, there was a sweetness about this.  You jump on his back, and he starts walking to the building.  “This will be a treat.  You've gone soft, and don’t know how to have fun or let loose.”

He opens the door to the rowdy crowd.  Music blaring, beer in everyone’s hand, and right in the middle was a mechanical bull.  “Nope.  Put me down.  I am not getting on that thing.”

“Yes, you are.  I’ll go first.  I just wanna see if you still know how to ride.”

“I have never rode a mechanical bull, Dean.”

“Wasn’t talking about the bull,” you give him a little pinch to his nipple, and he laughs, turning his head for a quick kiss.  Dean walks over to the bar, ordering two beers, and still with you on his back, he carries you to his favorite table.  “Best seat in the house.”

Sitting you down, you can’t help, but smile at him.  It was comforting having someone from your past.  He was still the same ole Dean that you remembered, but there were definitely some changes.  When he smiled his eyes crinkled up, but you found him even more attractive than before.  Reaching out to grab your hand, his thumb draws shapes over it, and they were rougher than you remembered.  

His voice was a bit deeper, but that you didn’t mind one bit.  He still liked to wear multiple layers to his ensemble.  Apparently, you had a type in the clothing department.  But then he started singing along to the music, before he pulls you up with him, “Alright, you gotta get on there.  You’re a mother, so prove to yourself you still know how to have some fun.”

He was right.  Biting at his lip, he nods as you walk up to the beast.  Needing a bit of help getting on, and thankfully the driver was taking it slow.  Letting the bull rock you back and forth slowly.  Jiggling the bull just so your tits would get some recoil action, and you hadn’t felt this sexy in a long time.  Dean was nearly frothing at the mouth with every twist and turn of the bull.  When the mechanic tires of playing with you, he spins it quickly, and you fall off giggling.  Ready to go again.  

But with a large hand gripping yours, he pulls you up to him, and practically runs out of the building.  Dragging you to his car, and he lifts you up.  Your legs wrap around him, and you take a few staggered breaths.  “Either we get in the back of this car, or I gotta go home.”

“Those are the only choices?”

“I let you get away one time, I don’t want to do it again.  This may just be fun, and we’re living wildly like we were younger, but I know you’re feeling things,” wrong.  You were feeling sexually frustrated.  You were feeling giddy, but things weren’t strong.  “Fine.  Fine, that’s fine, but don’t let us go again.  Let’s…”

“Dean, we’re just having fun.”

“Fine.  Then let's have fun in the back seat?  For old time’s sake,” wrapping your hands around his head, you pull him in for a bruising kiss.  This was not high school kissing, this was years of practice.  The both of you knew what you were doing now.  Your body grinds over his front as he blindly opens the back door, and carries the two of you inside.

Dropping you on the seat, he closes the door behind him, and you were back to attacking him again.  Weaving your fingers in his hair, and pulling him close.  He pulls off of you, starting to kiss down your neck.  You arch your back up to him as he gets lower on your body.  Pulling your shirt down, his thumb traces over the top of your bra.  Those green eyes look up at you for confirmation, but you were too into the moment.  Just enjoying the small pleasures of his mouth.

Mouth wide with panting breaths, he kisses further down, pulling down your bra, until he exposes your nipple.  His hips roll into your covered core, and when you whimper, his hand goes to your pants.  Only getting to your button, when you pull his hand back up, “I’m not sleeping with you in the back of this car.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I said, I wasn’t sleeping with you in the back of this car,” while he may huff a bit, he crashes his mouth back into yours.  Dean opens his eyes while the two of you make out.  He didn’t understand why you were being so hesitant.  You were holding back, and he had to make sure that your husband understood that you were back where you belonged.  Especially since you were being shy.  He starts kissing down your neck with open mouth kisses.  Giving that sensitive area behind your ear a nibble.  

Blowing his hot breath on you, and you were still weak with that motion.  It would leave a mark, and he hoped your husband saw it.  He could stay separated from you, until the divorce happened.  It was inevitable he was back in your life.  Right where he was supposed to be.

Your pocket vibrates and Jack’s ringtone sings softly, and you pull Dean off you, “Stop.  That’s…Dean, stop.  Jack never calls,” he leans back on his heels, and admires his handy work.  You definitely had a few spots on your neck.  The way you were completely blissful with his motions, “Jack, what’s wrong?”

“He’s running a fever, and throwing up. I’ve got him medicine, and he’s fine, but he wants you.  I know, I’m sorry.  You want me to meet you back at home?”

“I’ll come to you.  I’ll be right there,” sitting up, you readjust yourself, and move to open the door.  “Can you take me to my…Jack’s apartment?  My baby is sick and he needs me.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, that’s fine.  Kid needs his mama.”

You brush Finn’s hair away from his face.  Painting your finger over his heated skin.  He was fine.  But there was something about a mother’s touch. He knew that whenever he needed you, you would be there.  Despite whatever was going on between you and Jack, Finn deserved both his parents.  You lean forward, giving him a kiss on his forehead, and pull the covers tighter around him.

You weren’t sure where time had gone, or even how you had got here.  You and Jack had made it work for so long, and now it just seemed like you couldn’t.  It was either you or him that was bucking at changing.  “Come on, let him sleep,” Jack says from the doorway.  Looking at him for only a moment more, you stand and leave him in peace.  

“Call me if…”

“Stay,” you shake your head no.  It was a bad idea, “Please, he’ll want to see you in the morning.”

“Jack….”

“Please?  You’ve never stayed here.  I’ll wake up and get on the couch before he wakes.  Sweetheart, I don’t wanna be alone.  And I can’t tend to him the way you did.  We can just sleep.”

You lick at your lips, even though you could still feel Dean on them, you could taste Jack.  You didn’t think you could ever forget the way that he tasted, the way he felt, or even the way he touched you.  “I don’t wanna sleep,” you whisper as he walks backwards to his room.  Closing the door softly, he locks it, before the two of you start devouring each other.

A jumbled mess of hands and clothes as you remove things from each other.  Pulling off a shirt to kiss, only to stop to pull down pants.  It was fast and desperate.  But felt right, even though you knew in the morning all those emotions would come crashing back down.  He scoots himself on the bed, holding out a hand for you, and you sling a leg over his.  Straddling him when you start to sink over his cock.  

Sliding all the way down to the root, and your head looks up at the ceiling, whispering out a moan.  You give yourself a moment to adjust to his girth, and his hands discover you all over again.  The tips of his fingers glide over your soft skin.  Gripping onto your hips when you start grinding over him.  

Looking back down at Jack, it was the first time that you had seen him look at you like that in a long time.  His eyes full of lust.  You knew he loved you in his way, but you forgot what this felt like.  And just how it made you feel…desirable.  Realizing that this was something else that had been missing in your marriage.  

You bounce over him faster.  Watching his face turn into pure pleasure.  You were doing this for him.  He was beautiful like this.  Your hands press down onto his chest, and he holds on tighter.  His fingers leaving bruises in their wake.  Racing for a quick release.  Things were becoming too real, and you weren’t ready to deal with it.  Riding him like your life depended on it, and when his mouth falls open, and he lets out that high pitched ahh, you keep going.  You would get off.

Overstimulating him in the process as his cream leaks out onto his pelvis.  His eyes went from lust to love.  His face softening while your walls clench down tight around him.  Almost there.  Giving him a dirty grind when your body releases that sweet euphoria, and you lay down on his chest.

Jack wraps his arms around you, and lets his fingers pet on your back, “Why can’t we make this work?” You feel your resolve start to fall as tears cloud your vision.  “Jack, you’re all I never wanted, but you gave me everything I needed.  What happened to us?”

He lays there silently, still drawing shapes on your back.  “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“When we got together, we weren’t looking for a kid and a marriage.  It was tough.  But we did it.  We gave each other what we needed, but I’m afraid that neither of us are what we wanted in our lives.”

His body trembles underneath you when he lets his tears finally break through.  He had held them in for far too long.  Refused to show you his vulnerable side.  “Jack?”

“Don’t do this.”

“What are we fighting for?”

“Don’t…don’t do this to me,” you give him a kiss on his chest, because he didn’t get it.  “Don’t do this to us.  I love you.”

You close your eyes slowly, “Was it the same woman?”  He doesn’t answer, but his breathing was still rapid.  “She was there today, wasn’t she?  I saw her come out of the precinct, and she gave me a weird look.  You said you weren’t going to talk to her anymore.”

“We’ve never done anything.”

“You chose her company over mine.  This was the last time, Jack.”

“No.”

“Tomorrow, I’m going home.”

“No.  Don’t.”

“Monday, I’m filing for divorce.  You can go after that woman all you want.  Changing her number doesn’t mean anything.”

“Please, stop.”

“I asked you to stop a year ago,” you lift off him, letting your combined cum linger on his pelvis.  Getting up you go to grab his shirt, and your panties.  “I won’t hinder you anymore,” he cries your name, and sits up.  Those baby blue eyes peering at you with so much pain, but it didn’t matter anymore.  

“Why are you doing this?”

“You did this.  I’m just finally letting you go.  You can’t expect people, me, your wife, to hear the same lies over and over again.  We are just talking.  We are just friends.  We were just having dinner.  I wanted that with you.  Your wife.  Now, I’ll have that with someone who wants that with me.  You gave me what I needed, but never what I wanted.  And I did the same to you.  We’re too different.  We tried.  I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”

Jack stares up at the ceiling, and lets his tears soak his face.  Cal was right.  He was always right, and Jack was too stubborn to listen.  He thought that you were happy just going out with TJ.  Letting your best friend take the seat he should have been sitting in.  You had waited too long to voice what you needed, but you couldn’t do it anymore.  It wasn’t fair to either of you, and it wasn’t fair to Finn.  It was better this way, but Jack didn’t believe that.

He picks up his phone when Robyn texts him, but lays it back down.  He knew it was his fault and not hers, but still he blamed her.  Had she not come into his life, he wouldn’t have put a friendship ahead of you.  

“Next date, I’m sleeping with Dean.”

Good for you.  Why?

“I’m filing for divorce Monday.  I can’t do it.  I saw her at his office today.”

Baby, I’m sorry.  You and Jack can still be friends.

“We never were,” you lie to TJ and lie to yourself.  In that moment you forgot the love that you and Jack shared between each other.  It was just easier that way.  You didn’t want to be with Dean.  You had fun with him.  But a moment from your past, to remember young love was what you needed.  And that way you can enjoy your present, and then on to your future.  You deserved that.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @infatuatedjanes @missusbarnes-rogers @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @peaches1958 @thedarkplume @rebekahdawkins @seitmai @smile1318 @buckysteveloki-me @andydrysdalerogers @sgtjaamesbaarnes @elrw24

[harrywavycurly]

Trouble Next Door Bonus Convo: Pathetic

Masterlist: here

TW: Mentions of divorce, cheating, cursing, kinda gaslighting vibes on Steve’s part

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @makingmunson94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99 @idkbbyx3 @r0reep

A/N: Here we go…this might hurt a tiny bit but y’all really wanted this so enjoy and I hope it answers questions and is everything you wanted it to be✨

“Hey…” “Chrissy? What…you…you can’t be here.” “Why? I figured you’d need someone to be here with you.” “Why? Because I’m about to go in there and start the process of getting a fucking divorce…we talked about this….” “Well yeah we talked about it at your hotel but then we fu-” “that was a mistake and I’m sorry if…you thought that this…you and I…were ever going to be something more than just a…fling.” “A fling?…A fling?…you don’t end a marriage over a fling Steve!” “I’m not the one ending the marriage! She is!” “She’s ending it because she doesn’t love you why can’t you see that? Eddie didn’t even fight for me….because he knows I don’t love him…that’s what she’s doing she’s not fighting for you because she-” “don’t act like you know anything about her…she’s not fighting because I broke her….I broke her trust…her heart and she…just can’t be with me anymore.” “Or she’s just realizing she never wanted to actually be with you but….Eddie just never made a move until now.” “Until now? What are you talking about?” “They’re bestfriends Steve…they have sleepovers to celebrate promotions at work…you don’t think they’d be having sleepovers to help each other get through this? It’s only going to bring them closer and Eddie’s probably already made a move on her because he’s been in love with her for years…he just didn’t get a chance to do anything about it.” “How do you know that?” “He got drunk one night while we were dating and told me…said you swooped in and took her away from him…but he has all the time to do something about it now” “It doesn’t matter…she deserves to be happy.” “And so do we.” “There is no we Chrissy! Why can’t you get that through your head? I don’t want to be with you…the one I want to be with is about to walk into that office and sign a stack of papers just so she can be done with me.” “But you said you loved me?” “In the heat of the moment…I think maybe I did but…I just wanted…for a few minutes I just…wanted what they have…they are-” “they are the whole reason this happened in the first place Steve why can’t you see that? They have each other and so do we.” “I don’t love you…I’m sorry.” “Do you remember when we met? It was at a house party they both dragged us to and you had only been married a few months and she left you in the kitchen alone so she could go dance with Eddie..who was my fiancé…” “yeah I remember because there was that plate of brownies that I took a bite out of one and said-” “nice brownies…you had no idea I made them…but those were your first words to me…nice brownies…and we laughed and spent the rest of the night talking while our partners were off probably making people assume they were married because everyone always assumes they’re married…so why can’t we just let them be them and we can be us?” “Because I don’t want there to be an us.” “You don’t mean that.” “I do..I don’t want to be with you..” “you’re so pathetic…you’re still in love with someone who always put you..her husband second…you’re never going to be her number one..it will always be Eddie.” “I’m pathetic? Sweetheart…look at yourself…you’re standing here begging me to be with you when I keep telling you I don’t love you…” “fuck you Steve…I hope she takes everything from you and just leaves you with nothing but this stupid ass car….you don’t deserve her…you don’t deserve anyone.” “Well…at least we can agree on that…”

[gabessquishytum]

Hob just got married to a rich alpha. Thats an omega’s life’s ambition: to marry well and have some heirs.

He doesn’t mind it really. He doesn’t even mind the man he married, except for the fact that it isn’t a love match. He does seem interested in hob’s body, it’s just he doesn’t really want to talk to hob. And he’s very eager for an heir.

Instead, hob ends up getting to know one of the servants, an alpha who takes care of the horses. He’s very kind to hob and frequently accompanies him in small rides so hob can go read by the pond in the property. He doesn’t talk much to hob at first but hob is persistent and soon he’s earning little smiles form the alpha. His name is Morpheus.

Except the more time goes on, when hob’s husband comes to him, hob feels his body warming to thoughts of Morpheus, not his spouse. He has to bite back moaning Morpheus’ name even as his husband fucks deep into his body.

One day in one of their rides, hob can’t take his eyes on Morpheus’ slender back, the ripcord muscles on his thighs…and hob feels himself go into heat.

Morpheus meets his eye and…

Before he knows it, hob is on his back and Morpheus has his tongue buried in hob’s arse, promising him that he’ll knot him but only after he’s come three times on his tongue and fingers.

Morpheus can’t believe his luck. He’s wanted his lord’s omega from the first time he saw him. He doesn’t deserve hob. Snd if this is the only chance Morpheus gets, then he’ll make sure hob never forgets him.

Oooh, fabulous! Hob is about to have the time of his life getting knotted by his beloved Morpheus. This is what he's wanted all along. His husband has simply never managed to make Hob cum or arch his back and scream like this! Hob feels like he's received a divine revelation: this is what sex should really be.

He makes it back to the house with his heat somewhat tempered, and he takes a bath which removes the scent of Morpheus from his body. By the time his husband returns he's none the wiser, and is only too happy to enjoy the remainder of Hob’s heat. Hob, meanwhile, can only think of Morpheus. In fact he manages to cum just by thinking about him. His husband barely even notices.

It's probably quite fortunate that Hob’s newborn baby favours him in terms of looks. The dear little thing has big brown eyes and chubby cheeks and Hob’s husband is absolutely thrilled with such a fine, strong heir. Nobody remarks on the fact that little Robyn's hair is very dark (almost black, in fact). They assume that it also comes from Hob’s side of the family.

Morpheus knows the truth: Robyn is his son. He's very proud. But of course there's always a danger that Hob’s husband may become suspicious... perhaps if Hob were to have another dark haired baby, it would be a good idea. Just to keep any of those potential suspicions at bay.

Morpheus will be only too happy to assist.

[spurgie-cousin]

Do you think Robyn does what she does because she's an awful person? Or because she's trying to operate within the rules of an awful religion?

Good question tbh. I think she would be a selfish and irritating person regardless of her religion, but I think her current belief system allows that to flourish in a way that living in the secular world of even mainstream Christianity wouldn't.

She has all these outs and excuses for her behavior built into fundamentalist mormonism, like for example everyone else paying for her house while she didn't work: the family is supposed to meet the needs of each sister wife.

Having a nanny when she only had one small child and a whole ass husband: well she can't ask Kody for any help bc he has 3 other wives and that would be selfish of her.

Talking Meri out of going back to school so she'd help Robyn with her stupid business: the business can help the family with money sooner than Meri getting a degree would and all the adults are obligated to help each other to do what's best for the family (obv we know now that Robyn's business was a tacky ass money pit that didn't help with shit).

So I think a mix of both, and the fact that she found Kody who shares all of her worst qualities and will justify anything for her. But I do think if Robyn was living a more mainstream life with someone less like her, she'd have been called on her bullshit and straightened out wayyyy more than she has been.

[queerical]

books of 2023

A Guest in the House by Emily Carroll

A Series of Unfortunate Events 5-13 by Lemony Snicket

Abbott: 1973

Alone in Space: A Collection by Tillie Walden

Aquaman: The Becoming

Aquamen (2022)

Arkham City: The Order of the World

Batgirl (2000)

Bylines In Blood

Cuckoos Three by Cassandra Jean, Mosskat

Crush & Lobo

The Daughters of Ys by M.T. Anderson, Jo Rioux

DC Pride: Tim Drake Special

Elektra (2014)

The Forest by Thomas Ott

Galaxy: The Prettiest Star by Jadzia Axelrod, Jess Taylor

Gimmick! by Youzaburou Kanari

House of Slaughter, Volumes 1-2

The Illustrator by Steven Heller, Julius Wiedemann

Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell

Jessica Jones (2016)

Jessica Jones: Blind Spot

Justice League: A League of One

The Liminal Zone by Junji Ito

Men I Trust by Tommi Parrish

Metro Survive by Yuki Fujisawa

Midnighter (2016)

Mister Miracle: The Great Escape by Varian Johnson, Daniel Isles

Moon Knight (2011)

More is More is More: Today's Maximalist Interiors by Carl Dellatore

Ms. Marvel (2014), Volumes 1-2

Natsume's Book of Friends, Volumes 12-28 by Yuki Midorikawa

Nimona by N.D. Stevenson

Nubia: Real One by L.L. MicKenney, Robyn Smith

Power Girl Returns

Pretty Deadly

The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang

Rogue Sun, Volume 2

Rough Terrain by Annbeth Albert

Run Away With Me, Girl by Battan

Runaways (2003-2008)

SFSX (Safe Sex)

Silver Diamond, Volumes 1-9 by Shiho Sugiura

Sins of the Black Flamingo

Soulless: The Manga by Gail Carringer

Spider-Man/Deadpool, Volumes 1-6

The Sprite and the Gardener by Rii Abrego, Joe Whitt

Still Life: Contemporary Paintings by Amber Creswell Bell

Storm (2014)

Street Unicorns: Extravagant Fashion Photography From NYC Streets and Beyond by Robbie Quinn

Ultimate Comics Spider-Man (2011)

Until I Meet My Husband by Ryounosuke Nanasaki

Wakanda

Watercolor: Paintings of Contemporary Artists

What Did You Eat Yesterday? Volume 19 by Fumi Yoshinaga

Wheels Up by Annabeth Albert

The Well by Jake Wyett, Choo

The Wendy Project by Melissa Jane Osborne, Veronica Fish

The Wild Orphan by Robert Froman

Wonder Woman: Black & Gold

X-Men (2013)

Yellowface by R.F. Kuang

You Brought Me the Ocean by Alex Sanchez, Julie Maroh

Young Avengers (2005-2012)