#and to north for just taking this all in stride

[aemondsbabe]

The Gods and Everyone

summary: you and aemond sorely overestimate how much time you have before a small council meeting, which leaves the two of you in quite a scandalous predicament

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, cockwarming, public sex, slight breeding kink, fingering, aemond being an absolute menace, dirty talk, aegon being a little shit but what else is new, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 5.6k

a/n: based on an anon request for cockwarming! i hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this, friend! sorry it took me so long to get to it!

creds to @bbygirl-aemond for the gif!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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You watch, concerned, as your husband flits around the Small Council chamber, your eyes following his lithe form as he checks and re-checks the parchment with notes he had written for himself earlier that morning – you’d awoken in the pale hour just before sunrise to see him already hunched over the small desk in your chambers, scribbling away furiously with a quill, his pale hair glowing in the dim light of the candle next to him. All of your attempts to lure him back into bed with you had fallen on deaf ears. 

“You know you needn't do all this,” you point out, perched against the Small Council table, your eyes tracking him as he paces back and forth across the space, going over his notes for the upteenth time, “Your only job is to be on time like everyone else, husband.”

“Things will improve with time,” he rushes out, fixing you with a pointed look, “Hardly two moons have passed since Viserys…” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, “The least I can do is ease this transition for Aegon and mother.”

“My love, it is a transition for us all,” you soothe, striding to him and gently taking his hand. His fingers, rough from all his years of training with swords and spears, instantly wrap around your own as he lets out a tired sigh, “You included. Aegon named you Master of War, not master of everything.” 

“I know,” Aemond murmurs, eye softening as his gaze traces over you, “I find it hard to be still when there is so much chaos – Dorne has yet to be subdued and there are whispers of rebellion from the North. There is so much still to be accounted for.”

“I understand,” you reassure him, your fingers threading through his long, silvery hair, lips quirking into a smile as the gesture makes his eye flutter closed for a second. “But all this stress cannot be good for you, husband,” you sigh, gazing up at him with a mournful smile, “You need rest and calm and…and I need you.” You nearly whisper, blush creeping across your cheeks as Aemond’s eye darkens. 

“Sweetling—“ He starts with a sigh. 

“Aemond, please,” you cut him off, wrapping your arms around his trim waist as you lay your head against his chest, his heart thumping in your ear, “I cannot bear to hear another excuse, I feel as if you have been away for weeks.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, wrapping his long, lean arms tightly around you as he rests his chin on your head, your breaths the only sound in the stony chamber. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, smoothing a hand up and down your back, “I miss you too, my sweet girl.” 

You hum, leaning further into his embrace after going without it for so long, “You haven’t touched me in weeks.” You say quietly, his touch already igniting a spark in the pit of your stomach. 

“Perhaps tonight,” his breath is warm against the top of your head as he speaks into your hair, “I will try to cut my meeting with–”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” you cut him off once more with a sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “I can’t take anymore, my love, I need to feel you.” You whine, nearly petulant like a spoiled child. If it were any other time, if you were any less desperate, you’d be embarrassed at your behavior. Right now, though, you could not find it within yourself to care as you stared into your husband’s darkened eye, finally feeling the passion you had gone so many weeks without. 

Aemond chuckles as he looks down at you, conflicted between feeling pleased to see you reduced to such a state while also feeling a similar fire in his own belly. “Sweetling, the meeting–”

“Is not due to start for at least another hour!” You interrupt, determined to persuade him to this. Taking you in various parts of the Keep was not new to him, both of you had plenty of memories from your courtship and first year of marriage of rutting together in all sorts of nooks and crannies of the old castle. 

Aemond gazes at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, though his eye remains dark with desire. After a second, he nods to himself almost imperceptibly, seeming to come to some decision you weren’t privy to. Finally, finally his lips descend upon yours as he sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls you to him, groaning lowly in his throat as he licks into your mouth. You shiver in his grasp, finally tasting him properly after so long as you whimper and whine into his mouth.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you finally part from him, mewling as he immediately trails kisses down your jaw, “What–”

“Seems I can never deny you for very long, sweetling,” he huffs, halfway laughing as he guides you over to the large table, pulling you up by the waist until you’re sitting on the cool stone table, your legs bracketing his trim waist, “I’ve missed you too, my love.” He confesses, sweeping a lock of hair from your shoulder before trailing kisses up across your neck and jaw, one hand already desperately pulling up the bottom of your gown.

You huff out small moans and whimpers, relishing his warm touch. His nimble fingers finally manage to undo the knot at the front of your smallclothes and he tugs them down quickly, leaving you bare for him under your skirts as they fall to a pile on the floor just beside his chair at the table. 

“Husband,” you pant, tugging at the drawstrings at the top of his trousers, “Please, please do not make me beg today, I–” Your train of thought is cut off as a moan, louder than it should be given the location, tears itself from your throat when you feel his long fingers ghost over your center.

“Shh, darling,” Aemond grins as he feels your arousal immediately coat his fingers, a pleased hum emanating from deep in his chest as he feels it already coating the insides of your thighs as well, “I don’t have the patience to restrain myself today, sweet one,” he mutters, watching your face carefully as he spreads your folds and teases your entrance with a finger before carefully sliding it in, groaning with satisfaction at the feel of your walls already tightly clamping down on it, “Nor the time.” He adds with a slight smirk, pale hair cascading like a curtain down his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours. 

“Oh, Gods,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut as your hands white knuckle the dark leather of his tunic, too uncoordinated with lust to manage the ties on his pants, “M-My love, more please!” You whisper, angling your hips to try and catch another of his fingers. 

You hear him chuckle above you before he pulls his finger from you, smirking as you whine pitifully at the loss. Before you have a chance to protest, he quickly undoes his trousers, not bothering to pull them down at all and opting to merely loosen the laces at the front enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen as you watch his hand stroke over his length momentarily, taking in the way it already throbs in his grasp, the head flushed and leaking from merely having you in his hands once more.

“Ready, sweetling?” He asks, gently tilting your chin up as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his other hand positioning his length at your entrance. 

You part from him and nod eagerly, widening your legs and angling your hips, “I’ve been ready for you for weeks, Aemond.” 

He smiles softly, pressing one more kiss against your neck before finally pressing into you, growling as he sinks into your slick heat. “Seven,” he grunts, cradling the back of your head with one hand as his other slinks down to grab at your hip, “You feel better every time, sweetling.”

You moan hotly against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into the thick leather of the shoulder of his tunic in an attempt to quiet yourself. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feel of him sliding into you, filling you to the brim perfectly. You’ve been without him for so long that he feels enormous, your walls aching as he stretches you out, pressing in and in until he’s finally seated fully within you. 

Without another word, Aemond started thrusting into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace with every firm roll of his hips into you. After only a moment, he’s already grunting like a madman into your ear, holding you to him even as you cling tightly to his shoulders yourself, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. 

You feel a fire building in your belly at a breakneck pace as he ruts into you, the hand on your hip no doubt leaving fingerprint bruises across your skin, even through the fabric of your gown. If the low groans from your husband are any indication, he isn’t doing much better. He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you into a desperate kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together frantically as if the two of you are trying to fall into each other, to become one. 

“My love, I—,” he pants against your lips, jerking your head back by the grip he has on your locks. His eye meets yours, the light lilac almost entirely eclipsed by his pupil as he stares at you hungrily, “It’s been so long, I don’t know how long I can last.” 

His breath is warm as it fans over your lips and you nod dazedly, zings of pleasure radiating up your spine from Aemond’s grip in your hair only adding to the warmth quickly threatening to overtake you. “It’s okay,” you swallow thickly, eyes already rolling back with pleasure, “I can’t either.” 

Nodding in return, he picks up the pace, the head of his cock rutting against the most sensitive spot within you hard enough to make you see stars. He hasn’t even needed to tease your pearl and you’re already nearly unraveling as Aemond mumbles nearly incoherent praises, the hand on your hip traveling lower, nearly cupping your ass. 

Just as you’re about to warn him of your inevitable release, muffled voices sound from behind the thick wooden doors that lead into the Small Council chambers. Aemond slows within you as both of your heads swivel to the doors — just in time to hear the guards stationed outside begin to tug them open. 

You freeze, eyes widening as the doors open, seemingly in slow motion. Thankfully, your husband moves quickly enough for the both of you, nimbly scooping you into his arms before hastily dropping down into his chair, hurriedly scooching it forward until both of your laps are hidden under the stone surface of the table, before kicking your smallclothes under the table at the last second. 

Your head whips around to face Aemond and you give him a panicked, wide-eyed look just as people start filing into the room, unaware that you’re still being split open by your husband’s length. One hand, still on your hip, tightens, silently commanding you to be still as his lilac eye pleads the same; his other hand is already poised on the table, relaxed against the cool surface as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

“Yes, yes, we must certainly ask him once he’s back in King’s Landing,” Lord Tyland’s voice fills the chamber as he walks in, engaged in a conversation about something or other with Lord Corlys, the two sharing a laugh before finally taking notice of you and Aemond, “Prince, princess.” Tyland bows his head at the two of you with Corlys following soon after. 

You sit frozen atop your husband, gazing blankly at the two men without a word. Thankfully, Aemond has the presence of mind to bow his head politely, though he stays quiet. As they walk further into the room, you can only see Tyland and Corlys from the corner of your eye but you don’t miss the odd look they share, silently asking each other why you were present and certainly why you were sitting on Aemond’s lap. Blood rushes to your head so quickly you feel lightheaded, your cheeks stinging as a harsh blush quickly appears on your face from their attention. 

Maester Orwyle files through the doorway next, doing a double take at you and Aemond before bowing his head, a gesture that you thankfully remember to return this time as you stiffly nod your head. Thankfully, the older man simply takes a seat at his place at the table without any comment, though you can hear the two other men speaking quietly in the corner of the room, throwing glances your way as they do. 

Your walls tighten around Aemond’s length as the rest of you tenses up when Larys creeps in, leaning against his cane as he moves; Aemond thighs tense underneath you as you hear him suck in a breath, only slightly more hasty than normal — the hand in your hip tightens, warning you to keep it together. 

“Prince Aemond, princess,” Larys nods as he approaches the table, “To what do we owe the pleasure of such… intriguing company?” He questions, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes ever so slightly, his eyes bouncing between you and Aemond. 

Your head spins as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself to respond, to say anything, to appear somehow normal. Yet, nothing comes out as your center throbs uselessly around Aemond, your head cloudy with need as your eyes stare ahead blankly, though registering just enough to pick up on the small smirk playing at the corners of Larys’s lips. 

“My wife appears to have taken ill this morning,” Aemond drawls from over your shoulder while affectionately petting your waist, a gesture entirely for show, a lie to placate the men in the room, but it comforts you nonetheless. He clears his throat before continuing, the only tell thus far that your warmth around him is affecting him at all, “My presence brings her great comfort, I see no reason why she should be without it.” 

“I see,” Larys hums in response, his dark eyes sweeping over your form, sparkling ominously as if he knows the truth, “What shame, let us hope the Gods grant you reprieve from this…illness soon, princess.” 

“Yes!” You finally squeak, snapping back to attention as Aemond just barely squeezes your side, “Yes, let’s hope so. Thank you, Lord Larys.” You breathe, managing a smile small. 

You shift on your husband’s lap and immediately you know you’ve made a mistake as the head of his cock prods directly into that overly sensitive patch within you, nearly making you topple over on the spot as a small groan escapes you. Blessedly, you have enough presence of mind to cover it up with a cough, sparks jolting down your back as Aemond presses a soft kiss to your cheek, one of his hands coming up to rub soothing circles against the back of your shoulder. 

“There, there, sweetling,” he says softly, again, entirely for show as you put on your best performance, “Once the meeting is over, we will have the servants make some tea for you, that will help with that cough.” Even if it was for show, you couldn’t help but shiver at Aemond’s low voice, at how he’s being so soft and caring with you. That, combined with the incessant prodding to your sweet spot, has you throbbing around him, your heart hammering in your chest. You can hear Aemond suck in another barely there gasp behind you, a groan low enough to remain silent rumbling against your back while at the same time his hand almost imperceptibly twitches on the table; his composure makes you feel all the more lightheaded, blushing somehow deeper at the fact that he’s taking you apart this easily without so much as moving a muscle. Your thighs trembled atop his lap, the insides already sticky with your arousal as you struggled to stay still, silently thanking the Gods that at least your laps were hidden. 

“I’m sorry,” Corlys began, striding over from his spot in the corner with a sheepish look, “I really feel I must speak up, this is really most unusual.” He finishes through an awkward laugh, Tyland following closely behind him as they saddle up to the table. 

“What is most unusual?” Alicent asks, entering the Small Council chambers with Otto, followed closely after by Aegon and Ser Criston. Her eyes sweep over the room, pausing when she sees you, though she quickly corrects herself with a soft smile. “Ah, my dear,” she nods hello to the various men in the room before sitting at the table, “May I ask why your wife joins us, Aemond?” She peers at him curiously, throwing a nervous glance at Aegon who is smirking far too much for her liking as he slinks up to the table. 

“It seems the princess has fallen ill, your grace,” Larys answers quickly, slyly smiling as he turns to face the dowager queen, “Prince Aemond insisted she stay so that she may be…comforted.” You quickly look away from him as his eyes meet yours once again, piercing through you as though he can see directly through your gown. 

“Yes, which is most odd,” Tyland butted in, throwing glances between you, Aemond, Alicent, and Aegon, “She is not a member of the council, she should not be present. Surely there is some way the princess could be comforted that does not involve being privy to government matters.”

Aemond stays silent behind you, glaring daggers at Aegon over your shoulder, watching carefully as he traipses over to the table and stands at its head, his eyes never straying from his brother’s as they stare one another down. The other members, some reluctantly, take their places at the table as well, each of them standing so long as Aegon does, though you and Aemond remain seated; your eyes never stray from the marbled surface of the table.

“Aemond, please,” Otto sighs from his place next to you, “The least you and the princess could do is stand for–”

“I see him everyday,” Aegon interjects, breaking eye contact with your husband as he rolls his eyes, “I don’t give a shit if the fool stands.”

Your eyes dart up at that, shocked that Aegon isn’t taking the chance to thoroughly humiliate Aemond by putting him on the spot. The king’s violet eyes meet yours, sparkling with a mischief that makes your center flutter around your husband’s length – Aegon’s smirk grows as if he knows exactly what just happened. A thin sheen of sweat makes you feel clammy as Aemond’s cock twitches inside of you, pushing him against your sweet spot all the more. 

“Very well,” Alicent swiftly cuts in, determined to keep the peace, “Shall we get st–”

“Are we really going to allow for the presence of–” Corlys starts, only to be viciously cut off.

“She stays,” Aegon says flatly, shooting a bored look at the man, “If anyone has an issue with the princess’s presence they may take their leave.” His violet eyes pass over the room, almost daring anyone to move. Everyone remains still, though you can feel Tyland and Corlys glaring at the side of your head, and after a moment, Aegon takes his seat followed by everyone else; blessedly, the meeting finally begins. 

The Small Council meeting drones on and on, with various conversations of coin and ships, concerns abroad in Essos, and other diplomatic matters that mean nothing to you. In the back of your mind, you know it’s hardly been any time at all but it feels like an eternity has passed with Aemond’s hard length still piercing into you, twitching against your pulsing walls every so often. A part of you wonders if he does it on purpose, gives you just enough stimulation to cruelly tease you before going stock still once more. 

The small, unnoticeable to everyone but you, hitches of his breath tell you otherwise and deep down, you know he’s just as affected as you, no doubt steadily leaking into you, though you dare not consider the thought for very long. 

“Aemond,” your breath catches in your throat as Otto directs his attention to your husband, everyone else's gaze quickly following, “Any further communications from Dorne?”

Behind you, your husband clears his throat and you feel him shift beneath you, sitting up slightly straighter in his seat, both hands now clasping your waist to keep you steady on top of him. “Negotiations with the Dornish remain stagnant,” he begins as you practically wilt on his lap, the added attention from the council members making the knot in your belly tighten in a way you shudder to consider, “We received a raven from Prince Qoren some days ago rejecting any dealings with the crown, no matter the amount of coin we have to offer.” He finishes, pointedly looking at Tyland, who proceeds to butt in.

As soon as the attention shifts off of the two of you, it’s like the air around Aemond changes, becoming charged all of a sudden as you feel his chest heave against your back. At the other end of the table, Tyland begins to raise his voice, debating hotly with Corlys and Otto, drawing the attention of everyone else to them. 

“Do you think you can be still?” Aemond whispers, his breath hot against your ear although his voice is barely audible even to you. He must sense you freeze on his lap as the hand on your hip begins to move slowly, dragging your skirts up your legs until his hand can slip underneath them, making you tremble as he grips the soft skin of your thigh, “Tighten around my cock if you can be still.”

Against your better judgment, you do as he says, tensing as you clench your walls around him; his only reply is a low growl against your back. He stays still for a moment, trying with all of his might to appear as if he’s taking great interest in the ongoing argument taking place. 

Finally, once he’s positive everyone is too preoccupied arguing over coin to pay attention to either of you, his deft fingers slip through your folds before finally twirling against your aching pearl. 

You have to bite harshly at the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, trying to keep your breathing steady as you focus on not moving even though you so badly want to rut your hips against his fingers as they rub against you. 

Aemond swallows thickly behind you as he slowly circles his fingers, careful to keep his pace light and steady to not stir up any slick sounds from your wet cunt, though he longs to hear them. 

Your elbows rest against the top of the table, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. The conversation around you seems to shift as Otto begins prattling on about some Tyrell woman finally being with child. Aemond’s fingers suddenly pinch at your sensitive bud and a gasp tumbles past your lips before you can stop it, drawing everyone’s attention. 

“Is everything alright, princess?” Alicent questions from across the table, her dark eyes narrowed with concern. 

You nod quickly, coughing to conceal a moan as you open your mouth to answer her, “Y-Yes, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a weak smile, “I’m just so pleased for the Tyrells, what a j-joyous time this must be for them.” You say quickly, stumbling over the words as your core clenches tightly around your husband’s cock, his small touches driving you steadily to your peak despite the circumstances. 

Alicent gives you a curious look before quickly collecting herself, “Yes, I’m sure the family is quite thankful, children are always such a blessing,” she smiles politely before turning back to her father, “Please, continue.” 

Otto’s voice hardly reaches your ears as he picks up where he left off, though you don’t miss the horribly put out looks you garner from Tyland and Corlys. 

Aemond’s fingers just barely speed up as they swirl over your bud, though the small change is enough to drive you wild and you can feel the way his chest heaves against your back as your walls twitch around his length, threatening to milk his cock dry without him having to move an inch. 

The heat that has slowly been building within you finally begins to bubble over and your husband’s fingers show no signs of stopping as he pushes you closer and closer to your breaking point. The hand of his that has been resting idly on the table top comes over to casually rest against your clenched hands and rubs soothingly up and down your forearm, Aemond’s silent way of telling you he knows you’re close. 

Your eyes flick around the room as you feel your peak threatening to spill over you, frantically checking for any onlookers at the last possible second. You nearly jump out of your skin as your eyes finally land on Aegon, only to find him already staring at you, an amused smirk plastered across his face as he studies you. 

Aemond chooses that exact second to pinch at your pearl again and the small touch is your undoing. Your teeth bite down firmly on your tongue as your walls pulse rhythmically around your husband’s leaking cock, your eyes still locked on Aegon’s violet ones, now darkened with lust. 

Your muscles tense up as you peak helplessly, waves of pleasure lighting up every nerve ending within you. Somehow, you find it within yourself to remain quiet and still on Aemond’s lap as your eyes finally flick away from his older brother’s and you gaze, apparently absentmindedly, at some point on the wall on the opposite side of the room as your high subsides. 

Thankfully, Aemond takes pity on you and slips his hand away, his wet fingers resting gently in your bare thigh, still underneath your gown. 

You slowly come down from your high as the Small Council winds down, Aegon and Otto quickly discussing a few final points before the king formally adjourns the meeting. Tyland and Corlys practically bolt from their chairs, quickly bowing before they exit as they mumble between themselves, no doubt about the displeasure of your presence. 

Otto and Maester Orwyle take their leave soon after, each bowing politely. Aegon busies himself at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair as he lazily sips from his wine cup, the gleam in his eyes making you shiver. 

Across the room, Alicent and Larys whisper between themselves. Strangely, your mother-in-law blushes, shaking her head suddenly and mumbling a quiet, “Not here,” before glancing around the room.

Larys merely shrugs, turning to you as he shuffles from the room, “Do get better soon, princess.” He says with a feeble bow, although the look on his face makes you blush heavily. 

At that, Alicent turns to Aegon, “Would you care to come see the children with me?”

“Go on,” he dismisses her before nodding toward you and Aemond, “I wish to have a word with my brother.” He catches your eye with a quick wink. 

“Of course,” Alicent mutters, glancing curiously between the three of you, “I’ll ask the maids to bring some tea to your chambers this evening, princess. They make a wonderful lemon one that always seems to lift my spirits.” She says with a kind smile, coming around to place a comforting hand on your shoulder before she too heads to the door. 

“Thank you!” You breathily call after her, voice squeaking at the end as Aemond shuffles impatiently beneath you, his cock still prodding against your sensitive walls. 

Aegon chuckles darkly as soon as the doors close once more, standing from his chair with a wide smirk. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he taunts, eyes glinting as he looks between you and his brother, “I didn’t think either of you had that much gaul in you.” 

“What exactly are you tittering about now?” Aemond asks lowly behind you, his voice rough and choppy as his patience clearly wears thin. 

Sniggering, Aegon saunters around to stand beside you, violet eyes scanning over your laps still concealed under the table, “You’ve had your cock in her the whole time, have you not?” He teases, laughing harder still as Aemond merely hums in response, “Come brother, you should be proud of yourself,” he clasps a hand over your husband's shoulder, “She was nearly falling apart when she peaked.” He comments with a final wink as he ambles to the door, stopping to throw one last amused look over his shoulder, “You might want to do something about that bite mark on your shoulder.” He says casually before slamming the doors closed behind him. 

At his comment, you whirl around and your eyes grow wide as you spy a clear impression of your teeth marks in the leather of Aemond’s tunic, on his shoulder where you’d bitten down earlier. Your cheeks heat up at the thought of it being there throughout the entire meeting. 

You don’t have long to dwell on the thought though as your husband roughly pushes you from his lap until you’re bent over the table, cheek pressed to the cool stone surface. “Seven!” You sequel as he unceremoniously shoves his cock back inside you, his hips pumping wildly as his hands grasp at your waist harshly, no doubt leaving bruises. 

“Fucking finally,” he grunts, eyeing the way his cock disappears into your slick heat as he bunches your gown up over your ass, “‘M not gonna last.” He warns lowly, already panting with the speed of his thrusts. 

Your head spins once again as his cock moves within you, his pace nearly bruising. Your teeth sink into the skin of your forearm as you desperately try to keep quiet, another peak already welling up within you. 

Aemond growls and quickly threads the fingers of one hand through your hair, making you whine loudly as he pulls your head back until his chest is once again pressed against you, his other hand coming to rub against your abused pearl once more. 

“Aemond!” You moan, shaking your head in his grasp, one hand braced against the table as the other grabs at his forearm, feeling his muscles twitch as his fingers swirl against your center, “P-Please, I cannot keep myself quiet, I know I can’t—“ You start babbling. 

“Let them fucking hear,” he growls, eye squeezing shut as he feels his stones tightening up, “The whole keep can listen for all I fucking care, I won’t be stopping this time.” 

Your eyes roll back in your head at his words, never having heard him sound this possessed and overcome with pleasure before. After only a few more thrusts, you feel your walls twitch once more, a loud gasp rattling through your chest, “H-Husband, I’m—!”

“That’s it,” Aemond groans, redoubling his efforts against your pearl as he continues to rut into you at a nearly inhuman pace. “Peak, sweetling,” he commands, his voice low and raspy in your ear, “Peak while I breed your precious cunt.” 

His words nearly take your breath away and you whine loudly as another high washes over you, your walls milking your husband’s cock as they clench and pulse against it. 

Behind you, Aemond groans lowly, grunting as his cock twitches strongly inside you, his thick seed flooding into your heat as he finally, finally peaks, the pleasure of it making him dizzy as he leans against your back, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 

The two of you are quiet for a moment, your tired pants the only sounds in the chambers. Finally, Aemond untangles his fingers from your hair, both of his hands coming to rest against the cool table as he finally pulls his cock from your center, soothing you with soft shushes when you whine, the emptiness in your core such a foreign feeling after being filled for so long. 

He sinks into his chair once more and pulls you with him, wrapping a protective arm around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder. Once your breathing is steady, you pick your head up, a displeased groan tumbling from your throat as you see your bite mark more clearly up close, a finger coming up to trace over the intents in the black leather. 

“I’ll need to send this to the seamstress for repairs,” you whisper with an apologetic sigh, “I believe this is beyond my ability to fix.” 

Aemond chuckles beneath you, lilac eye gleaming with pride as he clasps a hand over yours as it still rests on his shoulder, “Don’t trouble yourself with it, my love.” 

“What?” You question, smiling despite the way you tilt your head in confusion, “Aemond, I cannot fix it myself and I’m afraid the mark will not simply go away—,” 

“You misunderstand me, sweetling,” he says, smiling as he looks down at you, “I intend to keep it as a mark of great pride. I shall wear it as a trophy for all to see.” He explains with a teasing laugh. 

You playfully smack a hand against his chest, which only makes him laugh harder, “You can’t be serious!” You admonish with a wide smile.

“Why? I simply wish to remember this day,” he chuckles, “The day I made my sweet wife peak in front of the Gods and everyone.” 

“Aemond!” You cannot help the surprised laugh that leaves you, “You’re as disgusting as your brother!”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @demirunner @eponaartemisa @trshngyn

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[writingdumpster]

secret wife part two

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings: none

summary: part two to secret wife, accessible through my navigation, pinned to my profile.

word count: 1.7k

You were in the kitchen of your North Island rental, zipping around as you prepared dinner for the dagger squad. You had lemon bars in the oven and chicken cooking on the stove. Bob had mentioned to you that he’d shared your lemon bars with Phoenix before and they were Daisy’s favorite as well. Daisy was Bob’s sister. She was just one year younger than him and she’d become a close friend of yours since meeting her. When you’d invited her to dinner you told her to dress nicely because you wanted to take a photo for your instagram with her. You didn’t tell her about Bob’s friends coming and you certainly didn’t tell her how you thought Hangman would be perfect for her after only a few stories about him from Bob. Bob was quietly laying plates and silverware out, stacking napkins beside them as you arranged your counter for the guests to serve themselves. 

“Can you go get that, Robby?” You asked as you heard the first knock on the door. Bob went to answer the door and Daisy came bounding in. 

“Where is that beautiful wife of yours, Bob?” She asked with a smile.  

“What? No ‘Hello, Bob; Nice to see you?’ Just ‘where’s my wife?’” Bob teased. 

“That’s exactly right, Bobby Boy. Is she in the kitchen while you sit around?” Daisy asked as she toed off her shoes and headed for the kitchen. 

“Hey, y/n,” Daisy greeted as she walked in. She came in and took in all the food you’d made. “Is it more than just me?” She asked. 

“Some of Robby’s friends are coming over too,” you told her. “The ones who went on the mission with him.” 

“Oh, that’s great,” Daisy said with a smile. “Do you want any help?” She offered as there was another knock on the door. Bob went to go answer it and let Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy into the house. Fanboy had a bouquet of flowers with him. 

“You brought flowers?” Bob asked when he opened the door. 

“I told you it was weird, man,” Payback said. 

“You’re not supposed to show up to someone’s home empty handed,” Fanboy grumbled. 

“No, y/n will love it. The ones I bought her last week are dying,” Bob said. Fanboy smiled slightly. Rooster was striding up the steps to your house just as Coyote walked through the doorway. He had a bottle of wine in his hand and he handed it to Bob. 

“I told you it’s not weird to bring something,” Fanboy hissed at Payback. 

“That’s wine, not flowers. It’s a little weird,” Coyote piped in. 

“It’s not weird. It’s nice,” Bob assured Fanboy as he led his friends into the kitchen. You turned to see your new guests led by Bob with flowers and a bottle of wine in hand.

“Aw, who brought flowers?” You asked with a smile. 

“Fanboy,” Bob said. 

“That’s so nice,” you said as you took them. Bob placed the bottle of wine on the counter and went looking for the opener. Fanboy stuck his tongue out at Payback when you turned around which only earned him an eye roll in return. You began placing the flowers in a vase when there was one last knock at the door. Bob opened the door to welcome Phoenix and Hangman into your home. He instructed them to take off their shoes and then ushered them into your kitchen. You looked over at Daisy the moment you saw it was Hangman who had arrived. You watched as her eyes widened and a tiny smile spread across her lips. You smirked to yourself. 

“Right on time,” you greeted your newest guests. “Serve yourselves. Don’t be shy,” you said as you stepped aside. Rooster was the first to pick up a plate, giving himself a generous serving of the chicken you had made. The rest of Bob’s friends lined up, but Phoenix approached you before she grabbed a plate. 

“Bob told me you were going to make the lemon bars I like,” Phoenix said quietly. Her confidence was a bit shaky. She wanted you to like her. Bob had quickly become her best friend and she was worried that he hadn’t told her about you because you wouldn’t like her. She handed you a small gift bag. “I um, made this for you,” she told you. You opened the bag to find a hand knit scarf in your favorite colors. 

“This is so sweet. Thank you!” You said with a smile. 

“I know you’ll be back in Lemoore soon and it doesn’t get that cold there, but um,” Phoenix glanced down at her hands. “I thought maybe you and Bob could visit me in Norfolk sometime.” You smiled warmly. 

“That sounds wonderful,” you said as you pulled her into a hug. “I’m glad Robby has you,” you told her when you pulled away. 

“Yeah, me too,” she agreed with a smile. 

“Now go grab a plate before the boys eat everything,” you told her. You turned back and noticed that Hangman was seating himself beside Daisy. You’d managed to squeeze enough chairs around the dining room table. You settled across from Daisy once you’d gotten your own food. Bob kissed the top of your head as he took the seat beside you. Coyote, Rooster, and Payback were already eating but Fanboy sat there anxiously waiting for you and Bob to sit before he took a bite. 

“You didn’t have to wait for us,” Bob said as he took his first bite. 

“I told you,” Coyote teased before shoving another piece of chicken into his mouth.

“This is delicious,” Rooster gushed to you. 

“Don’t tell my mom, but this is the best food I’ve ever had,” Payback agreed. You thanked them with a smile. When everyone had eaten they all agreed that Bob must have fallen in love with you because of your cooking. 

“The cooking is great, but all she had to do was smile at me and I was hers,” Bob said as he took your hand upon the table. Phoenix smiled to herself, glad that her friend was so happy. 

“Robby and I will get this cleaned up. I’ve got dessert for all of you too,” you said. Fanboy and Phoenix quickly volunteered to help with the dishes. Daisy started to rise as well but you stopped her. “Relax. I’ve got enough help tonight,” you said before throwing an encouraging look towards Hangman. Hangman glanced over at Daisy. He started to open his mouth to introduce himself, but his breath caught in his throat. He cleared his throat roughly and then turned to her. 

“I’m Hang—” He stopped himself. “I’m Jake,” he told Daisy. Bob met your eye and you held in a laugh before you retreated to the kitchen. 

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” Daisy said with a smile. “I’m Daisy.” Jake couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. This wasn’t his signature cocky smirk though. This was a lovesick smile–one that was dripping with admiration and awe.

“Bob didn’t tell any of us he had a sister,” Jake said. Daisy smiled. 

“He doesn’t tell anybody anything,” she said. “He’s always been quiet.”

“And what about you?” Jake asked. “Did you take after your big brother?” Daisy laughed. 

“Not even a little bit,” she said. “I’m the family rebel,” she told Jake. 

“Let me guess…you went through an emo phase,” Jake guessed. 

“Oh, is it that obvious?” Daisy asked. 

“No, Bob puts on a playlist in the locker room sometimes and I know he doesn’t know anything besides country music. It’s got to be because of you,” he said. 

“Aw, my Bobby Boy still listens to my playlists?” Daisy asked. 

“I guess so,” Jake said with a smile. 

“He always liked the country. It’s how we grew up,” Daisy said. “I like to expand my tastes beyond just what played on the local radio when he drove us to school though.”

“I like country music,” Jake said. “But I’m mostly into classic rock,” he finished. Daisy smiled. 

“Bob says you play ‘Slow Ride’ on the jukebox everytime you go to some bar with him,” Daisy said. Jake blushed. 

“What else does he say about me?” Jake asked. 

“He told me you remind him of me,” she said. Jake grinned. 

“Do you like concerts?” He asked. Daisy smiled shyly. 

“Yeah, live music is great,” she said. 

“There’s a bar downtown that has bands play on Friday nights,” Jake spit out quickly. “Maybe…um, maybe I could take you?” He offered. 

“I don’t see why not,” she said with a smile. Jake grinned. 

“Great. That’s great,” he said, unable to wipe the grin off his face as he looked into her eyes. 

“I’ll give you my phone number before you leave,” she promised. Just then you walked back into the dining room with a tray of lemon bars, Bob trailing behind you with a fresh stack of plates. Everyone ate the lemon bars, throwing compliments your way with every bite. The dagger squad happily stayed to enjoy the night before Bob finally shooed Rooster out of his house, still remaining as he ate all of Bob’s leftovers. Bob turned back to you as he closed the door. You smiled warmly. He crossed the entryway and wrapped his arms around your waist. You raised your arms to rest on his taught chest. 

“I like your friends, Robby,” you told him. Bob smiled and kissed your nose.

“Your little scheme with Hangman seemed like it worked,” Bob commented. 

“You’re the one who told me that if I wanted Daisy to be stationed with us he was the best shot,” you reminded him. Bob chuckled. 

“He couldn’t stop smiling at her,” Bob said. “I’ve never seen him look at a girl like that at The Hard Deck.” 

“That’s because he was looking at her the way you look at me,” you said. Bob smiled softly. 

“And how’s that?” He asked. 

“Like I’m the only thing you care about,” you said. Bob grinned. He leaned down and kissed you lovingly. His lips were warm and strong against yours and you let out a small hum of satisfaction as he leaned away. 

“That’s because you are.”

[nomercymaster11]

Through Law's eyes (Chapter 4)

@GOKUJOUNOMAGURO

WC: 2,993 | Law x y/n, afab!reader | continuation of "We should talk" A/N: My attempt of writing a first person perspective, Law's POV, reminiscing the days before that one fateful day. It's been about three years now since she became part of our crew. I remember the day she barged into our lives like a storm, all fierce determination, and pleading eyes. We'd just finished a mission on one of the islands in the North Blue, and she'd been instrumental in our success.

But when she asked to join us, I wasn't exactly jumping at the chance. See, it's not that I had anything against her personally—it's just that taking on new crew members is a big decision. Let alone another woman, aside from Ikkaku, to join the crew.

But as Penguin—bless his chatty soul—filled me in on her background, I started to see things differently. Turns out, she wasn't just some runaway trying to escape a bad situation. She had skills—mad skills. Not only was she handy with medicine, but she knew her way around basic mechanics too. That's the kind of resourcefulness you can't ignore on the Grand Line.

Penguin had spent some time with her while we were sorting out the aftermath of our mission. He couldn't stop talking about her, which, coming from him, was saying something. But the more he told me, the more I realized that she belonged with us. She wasn't just looking for a way out—she was looking for a purpose. And maybe, just maybe, we could give her that.

So, despite my initial reservations, I welcomed her aboard.

At first, she struggled with sea sickness, poor thing. But she didn't let it keep her down for long. Despite her initial queasiness, she threw herself into life aboard the Polar Tang with all the gusto of a seasoned sailor. She had this tomboyish vibe about her, fitting right in with the rough-and-tumble atmosphere of our crew.

Watching her adjust was like seeing a flower bloom in the midst of a storm. Day by day, she grew more accustomed to the rhythms of life at sea. And when she finally donned that crisp, white overall suit—the same one worn by the rest of the Heart Pirates—it was like she'd always been one of us. The crew welcomed her with open arms, and she fit in seamlessly.

I often caught glimpses of her shadowing Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo, soaking up their knowledge like a sponge. They took her under their wing, showing her the ropes of ship life, teaching her the ins and outs of the Polar Tang. They made sure she knew the rules I'd laid down, and they filled her in on all the little tricks and quirks of submarine living. And you know what? She took it all in stride, like it was second nature to her.

As they reported her progress to me, I couldn't help but be impressed. She was a quick learner, picking up skills that took others years to master. And every time I nodded in approval, it was like giving her a silent pat on the back. She was proving herself, not just to me, but to the whole crew.

                                              XXXX

I remember that moment vividly, like it was yesterday. I was making my rounds through the submarine when I noticed a faint glow emanating from beneath the door of my office. Curiosity piqued, I approached quietly and peeked through the small window. There she was, surrounded by a sea of medical books, completely engrossed in their pages. Her expression was a mix of fascination and concentration, her lips forming silent words as she absorbed the knowledge within those worn pages.

I knocked softly, not wanting to startle her, and she jumped, clearly caught off guard. As I entered, she stood up quickly, blinking rapidly as if she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be touching these," she apologized, her voice tinged with guilt.

But I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "No problem at all. You're welcome to borrow them anytime."

Her face lit up like a child on Christmas morning, and she grinned at me eagerly. "I also brought some medical books with me when I came aboard the sub. Can I keep them here?" she asked, gesturing to the stack of books she'd brought with her.

I nodded, touched by her enthusiasm. It wasn't every day that someone showed such genuine interest in expanding their knowledge.

And so, our impromptu study sessions began. It was the only time we were truly alone together, just the two of us surrounded by the wealth of knowledge contained within those walls. And as we poured over the books, exchanging insights and ideas, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness growing between us. She wasn't just a member of my crew—she was a kindred spirit, hungry for knowledge and eager to learn.

This isn’t something we do on a regular basis. During those rare moments when our duties aligned and we found ourselves in the same room, engrossed in our respective books, I couldn't help but steal glances at her. There was something mesmerizing about the way she immersed herself in her reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving silently as she absorbed the words on the page.

One particular night stands out in my memory. We were seated across from each other, the soft glow of the lamplight casting gentle shadows across her features. As I lifted my gaze from the text in front of me, I found myself studying her with a newfound curiosity. Her long lashes brushed against her cheeks with each blink, and her eyes darted back and forth across the pages, devouring every word. My gaze trailed down to the delicate curve of her nose, and then lingered on her lips—soft and full, like petals begging to be kissed.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the sudden wave of distraction that washed over me. I couldn't afford to get lost in thoughts of her—not when there were duties to attend to, and a ship to command. But despite my best efforts to focus on my reading, my mind kept drifting back to her, like a ship caught in an irresistible current.

What are you doing? I chided myself silently, forcing my attention back. I couldn't afford to let myself be distracted—not by her, or by anything else. But as I stole one last glance at her, her beauty illuminated by the soft glow of the lamplight, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips.

But such thoughts were dangerous, I reminded myself sternly. We were pirates, after all—outlaws on the high seas. And as much as I might have wanted to, I couldn't allow myself to get too close. Not when the stakes were so high, and the dangers so real. So, with a sigh, I forced myself to turn back to my book, pushing aside the tantalizing thoughts that threatened to consume me. But deep down, I knew that no matter how hard I tried to resist, she had already captured a piece of my heart.

That moment of distraction was like a brief flicker of light in the darkness—a glimmer of something I hadn't felt in ages. But I knew better than to let it take root. Emotions were a dangerous thing for a pirate, especially someone in my position. So, I buried those feelings deep down, resolved to concentrate on the current task.

                                               XXXX

I threw myself into my duties with a renewed vigor, strategizing and planning with a single-minded intensity. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and before I knew it, a year had slipped by like sand through my fingers. We had crossed into the treacherous waters of the Grand Line, where danger lurked around every corner and the ocean itself seemed to rise up against us.

In the depths of the Grand Line, the challenges we faced were unlike anything we'd encountered before. The sea monsters were larger, fiercer, and more relentless than those of the North Blue. Every day was a battle for survival, as we navigated through storms and dodged the attacks of creatures that seemed intent on tearing our ship apart.

But despite the dangers, I found solace in the chaos. In the midst of battle, there was no room for distraction or doubt. Every decision had to be made with precision and clarity, every move calculated to ensure our survival. And as the captain of the Heart Pirates, it was my responsibility to lead my crew through the storm and into calmer waters.

So, I pushed aside any lingering thoughts of her. There would be time for reflection later, when the seas were calm and the danger had passed. But for now, my only concern was keeping my crew safe and steering our ship toward our next destination in the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line.

                                           XXXX

It was on one such stop at an island that another incident unfolded. As I stood by the dock, mulling over our next course of action, she came bounding towards me, her fiery determination evident in every step.

I couldn't help but let out a sigh as she stood there, her lips set in a determined pout. This wasn't the first time we'd had this argument, and I had a sinking feeling it wouldn't be the last. She was stubborn, that much was clear, and when she set her mind to something, there was no stopping her.

But as much as her defiance grated on my nerves, I couldn't deny that there was something undeniably endearing about her fiery spirit. Even when she was being a brat, there was a spark in her eyes that I couldn't help but admire.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to quell the rising frustration within me. "Fine, have it your way," I relented, knowing that arguing any further would be futile. "But on one condition."

Her eyes lit up with curiosity as she leaned in, waiting for my terms. "What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"If you're able to land even a small cut on me anywhere on my body, I'll let you join Penguin and the others in their sparring," I replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

I told her that she’s supposed to be a support and not someone who fights on the frontline.

Her expression faltered for a moment, a hint of doubt flickering across her features. "That's not fair! You're way stronger than me!" she protested; her frustration evident.

I shrugged nonchalantly, not about to back down. "Then give up, easy as that," I teased, hoping to quell her whining once and for all.

But instead of conceding defeat, she squared her shoulders and met my gaze head-on. "Let me practice first," she declared, her determination shining through.

And in that moment, I knew there was no stopping her. Whether I liked it or not, she was going to find a way to prove herself, even if it meant facing off against me, her captain, in a battle of wills. And as much as I tried to resist, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride swell within me at the sight of her unwavering determination. She may have been a handful, but she was my crewmate, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

As the crew gathered on the shore, forming a circle around us, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through my veins. The air was charged with excitement, and I tightened my grip on Kikoku, its weight resting comfortably on my shoulder, while the other hand remained tucked inside my pocket.  Beside me stood <y/n>, a few inches away, her movements fluid as she stretched her arms, cracked her knuckles, and warmed up her legs. The intensity in her eyes was unmistakable; she was dead serious about this.

"You can still back out if you want to," I offered, my voice laced with a hint of warning.

"Why? Are you scared of me?" she shot back, her voice laced with playful defiance.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the crew, egging us on as we prepared to face off. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her cockiness, unsure where her newfound confidence was coming from.

"What's going on?" Shachi whispered to Penguin, his curiosity evident.

"It appears that the two had a deal, something like that," Penguin replied, his arms crossed as he observed the scene. He had assisted her briefly in honing her swordsmanship skills.

As we squared off, I caught Shachi and Penguin exchanging whispered words, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. They knew something was up, but they trusted me enough to let things play out.

"Just to let you know, I won't hold back. You wanted this after all," I warned her, my grip tightening around my sword as I began to unsheathe it slowly. Truth be told, I was bluffing. Landing a small bruise on her would be sufficient—I had no desire for her to harbor any ill will towards me. But perhaps teaching her a lesson was necessary.

For a moment, hesitation flickered in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her own sword but then she squared her shoulders and advanced towards me. It was easy for me to anticipate her moves, to parry her attacks effortlessly. Despite her lack of experience, she wielded her sword with conviction, her determination evident with each swing. But there was something different about her—something unexpected.

"I thought you're not going to hold back? Why are you on the defensive?" she taunted, her words ringing in the air.

I couldn't help but smirk at her audacity. With a swift movement, I vanished from her line of sight, only to reappear behind her, ready to strike. But to my surprise, she anticipated my move, twisting her body to block my attack with her sword.

Her movements were fluid and precise, as if she could see right through me. And when I attacked again, she parried effortlessly, her eyes locked on mine with a steely determination. Testing my theory, I attacked from a different angle, only for her to evade once more.

"Since when did you know you could use Observation Haki?" I asked, taken aback by her newfound skill.

"I wasn't sure," she admitted, panting slightly from exertion. "I started seeing things differently."

She was full of surprises, that much was clear. But even as we continued to clash, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her than met the eye.

"The deal is still on though," I reminded her, my voice firm.

"I won't back down," she replied

She may have been a novice, but she had the heart of a warrior, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of respect for her in that moment.

As our sparring continued, I couldn't help but admire her tenacity and marvel her progress. Despite her initial hesitations, she was adapting quickly, her movements becoming more fluid and precise with each exchange. The cheers of the crew egged us on, fueling the fire that burned between us.

But as the minutes dragged on, I found myself growing weary of the fight. With a final swing of my sword, I sent her weapon flying, causing her to lose her balance. Her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the fall, but before she could hit the ground, I acted on instinct, hooking my arm around her to steady her. Our eyes locked in a moment of shared intensity, breaths ragged, chests rising and falling in unison. I could feel the warmth of her hand against my chest, the beads of sweat glistening on our foreheads.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around us fading into the background as we stood locked in that intimate embrace. But the sound of applause from the crew jolted me back to reality, and I quickly helped her to her feet, trying to ignore the strange fluttering in my chest.

Retrieving my sword and sheathing it once more, I took a moment to catch my breath, removing my fur hat to run a hand through my hair. But before I could even gather my thoughts, she was already asking about joining the others in their sparring sessions.

"You didn't land a scar anywhere on me. So, it's still a no," I replied firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Her face fell instantly, her lips forming again to a pout that I couldn't help but find endearing. But I refused to let myself give in to her charms—not now, not ever.

"Rules are rules. You know that" I reminded her, furrowing my brows in a gesture that I hoped conveyed my seriousness.

But she wasn't about to give up so easily. Grabbing my arms, she examined them closely, searching for any sign of injury. She squeezed my hand firmly, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. Then, she cupped my face in her hands, her touch gentle yet probing. She moved my head from side to side, inspecting me for any hidden injuries, her eyes scanning my features with unwavering focus. I stiffened under her touch, caught off guard by her sudden gesture. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirling within me.

"Stop that," I scolded lightly, trying to mask the way her touch affected me.

With a resigned sigh, I watched as the crew began to make their way back to the submarine. But even as we parted ways, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much bigger—something that would change us both in ways we couldn't even begin to imagine.

Chapter 3.5 | Chapter 4.5 (Almost at the end)

[pitchsidestories]

All the rumours are true II Leah Williamson x Reader

arsenal women masterlist

Leah Williamson's Instagram story

Her music is amazing ! Love her latest Single! 😍

Williamson_Babe Is Y/N refering to Leah in her lyrics when she sings North London forever?! 👀

Musiclover96 Omg, I bet she does. Are they dating? That would be iconic.

The september morning light was streaming through the large windows of your girlfriend's appartement while you both were drinking your first coffee of the day.

With an amused look on her face Leah read the latest comments on her instagram story before showing you one observation a fan made:"And are they right? Is that line about me, darling?"

"Which one?", you asked giggling.

The blonde defender let out a small huffed noise:"The North London part?" A teasing smile appeared on her pretty lips before she continued:"Or did you just try to show you're an Arsenal?"

You could not help but blush as you were currently wearing one of Leahs old Arsenal jerseys, simply because it was your favourite sleeping shirt, especially when the football player or you were apart from eachother due to your busy careers.

"Actually it was an ode to my flatmates when I first moved to London.", you mocked her in return.

Not really convinced by your answer Leah wanted to know:"Oh really? Who was it?"

"You know them, we'll meet them for dinner next friday, love.", you reminded her in a nonchalant tone.

The blush from earlier came back as you confessed:"But the fans are right, I wrote the line when I was thinking about you."

"I thought it was dedicated to your flatmates.", the defender throw an eyebrow up.

"It's for them and you. Soon they will be my former flatmates considering I'm moving in with you on friday.", you drew gentle circles with your fingers on your girlfriends arm.

Jokingly Leah replied:"Unless you decide that you miss them and want to move back in with them."

"Right."

"It's possible.", Leah shrugged with her shoulders before hugging you from behind and resting her head on your shoulder.

You could feel her strong arms around you, making you feel grounded in this exact moment.

Because that's what you were for eachother, lovers who could be one true self, leaving the public figures label behind at the front door.

Carefully, you pulled yourself out of the hug and walked over to the kitchen counter to make yourself another cup of coffee and while you were at it, poured your girlfriend another one too while casually changing the subject, "When did you say was your next home game again?“

With an innocent smile you set the cup down in front of her. Leah eyed you warily but with an amused smile on her lips, "Why? Do you want to come and make the fans speculate even more?"

"No, I want to support you.", you answered and grabbed Leahs cap from the counter and put it on, "I could even wear an undercover look, see?"

With a laugh your girlfriend nodded, "I‘m sure that‘ll work."

You put your hands under your chin, blinking at her with big eyes, "As Miss Undercover in the stadium."

"I won‘t stop you if you‘d like to go.", Leah grinned, obviously not unhappy with that idea herself.

You caught the hint and as you sat down at the kitchen table again, you asked, "But would you like me to be there?"

Leah leaned over to you to press her lips onto yours and mumbled into the kiss, "Maybe."

When she pulled back, she snatched her cap from you and put it down on the table. "I take that as a yes.", you laughed as you watched her stride across the room to your record player.

On the first few notes, you recognized the song she put on as your newly released single.

Leah was slowly swaying to the music, smiling, as she confirmed, "You should take it as a yes. I would love to have you there."

You raised your eyebrows at her in amusement , while you watched her moving around in her old oversized shirt that she slept in last night, "Is that what you call a dance?“

"No, I'm very convinced this is a dance.", the defender stated confidently while she took your hands in hers so you two could move together to the tunes coming from the record player.

"Lee, we didn't even had breakfast yet.", you laughted out loud because of you're girlfriend's goofy mood.

"You need breakfast for that?", Leah asked you with a teasing smile.

You shook your head:"No, but I don't want the bacon to burn."

"I can take it out while dancing with you.", the blonde woman replied in a flirty tone.

Arsenal Wfc Instagram Post

arsenalwfc Look who came to watch our game today 👀

katiemccabe Does she know I excist? 😏

leahwilliamson In your dreams McCabe 🙄

Giggling Beth greeted you with a hug, while you both got seated in the stands at the Arsenal match a few days later:"Hi y/n, you and Lee are both terrible at the undercover looks."

"Excuse me, we thought this is perfectly fine.", you answered in a playfully offended tone.

Not in the slightest convinced the injured striker said; "Sure, no one will notice you."

"So, not good?", you sighed.

Amused the blonde looked at you:"No."

"Awful,  the fans will recognize you.", Vivianne remarked grinning.

Her girlfriend suggested in her jokingly manner:"You can try to hide behind Viv."

"Yeah that definetly works, you and Beth are the same height.", the dutch woman nodded.

"Thanks guys."

"You're welcome.", Beth winked at you.

Excitedly you jumped off the seat as Leah made one of her rare goals:"Oh my god Lee scored!"

"Leah!", the blonde striker shouted her teammates name beaming proudly.

Happily Vivianne observed:"She's coming to us."

"Can she celebrate anymore subtle?", Beth rolled her eyes.

Vivianne pointed a thumb in your direction as you excitedly waved down to your girlfriend, "Worst Miss Undercover ever." "They‘re both bad.", Beth agreed more amused than actually annoyed.

Now it was the dutch strikers turn to roll her eyes, "Honestly. Throwing kisses to each other like the love birds they are." "It‘s disgusting."

As Leah went back to her position on the field, you turned around to the couple, "You two know I can hear you, right?" "We do but we thought you were too busy celebrating with your girl.", Beth shrugged.

With a smirk, you winked at her, "We‘ll be even more busy after the game." "Too many details!", Vivianne groaned and grimaced in disgust. Beth just shook her head, "Oh god."

"You can tell that they have not lived together for that long yet.", Viv commented. Beth slipped a hand on her girlfriends arm, "They‘ll grow out of it soon."

"Once routine settled in." With a smile on your lips, you only listened half-heartedly. Your gaze was fixed on Leah playing. You knew you would never get tired of her.

Alex Scott Instagram Story

She knows all of Y/N lyrics. Such a fangirl 😂

A few weeks later, Leah was standing in the crowd of one of your concerts in London. Alex Scott was accompanying her. The former football player snapped a few photos of Leah singing to your songs. "Look at you, Lee. You‘re so in love." "In love?", she repeated surprised. "Yeah, you definitely look like it." Leah gave a small shrug and a wry grin, "I guess I am." Alex looked satisfied, "It suits you." "Thanks."

Both of them were ushered backstage during your last song. "Hi, did you enjoy the concert, girls?", you greeted them, wiping sweat of your forehead with a towel. Leah went in to hug you, "We did. You were great tonight."

Alex could not help but tease the defender: "Leah knew all the lyrics." "They're my favourite songs.", the blonde defended herself, grinning sheepishly. You could not help but tease her:"Especially the North London song, right?" "I think a line of it will be my next tattoo.", Leah thought out loud. Innocently you asked, while kissing her blushed cheek:"So we'll do a partner tattoo?"

[cuethediscoandthedrinks]

col. quaritch + head under the desk during a meeting~

+special cameo enjoy 🫠

• with the kind of relationship you have, he doesn't anticipate it at all

• mid-way through a rather gruelling meeting, surrounded by his colleagues and some especially important superiors, quaritch was already doing his best to remain engaged, active, and most importantly, professional

• although he very much appreciates play time with his sweetheart, he was still a high ranking colonel with both quotas to fill and a reputation to uphold

• therefore, when he'd caught a brief glimpse of your smaller form hidden under the wide, low metal table, he had initially assumed it to be purely mischief

• maybe you'd intended to scare him, but weren't briefed on the meeting that was to take place; being a lab scientist, compared to quaritch's more hardcore job, the expectations and schedules for you were much more flexible

• or perhaps you'd merely lost track of time, and once you saw the camo-clad giants striding into the smaller glass-windowed room, you had no choice but to squirrel away underneath the table, hoping that no one could spot you hiding there

• of course, you'd most definitely been briefed on the upcoming meeting; considering your most recent escapades, it provided the potential for some solid payback. he wasn't anticipating brattiness, but this only made it so much easier to make use of the opportunity

• the last few weeks had spanned some strict edging with no orgasms whatsoever, and once you broke that rule, he'd had no quarry with spanking your ass, pussy and thighs until you were a great many shades of green and purple; voice hoarse from all the moans and squeals he'd teased out of you

• so, having his spread legs right in front of you was a true sight to see. all this opportunity to push back, play against his rules. in public, as much as he liked to readjust his tightened trousers, or swallow thickly in aims to hide his arousal, you knew he was just as whipped at the lewd sights he'd beheld as you were for him

• "OK. So we've already surveyed both the east and specifically north-eastern borders. The Na'vi continue their counter-attacks, but we're ready for that..." quaritch began, continuing about the weaponry and new targets; soon after ending his summations, only for the next marine to take over

• after the initial points were made, quaritch seemed to settle down into the chair. judging from both prior chats about how much he felt the meetings merely detracted from the energy of the soldiers, paired with his lightly swishing tail, you could tell quaritch was getting bored with the meeting

• slowly inching towards his spread legs, you made sure to bow your head extra low so as to avoid any roaming eyes above the table. luckily, the sheer size of the men's legs had quickly blocked out the majority of light, further obscuring you from view

• knowing quaritch could do virtually nothing to stop it, you went straight to work. palming his soft cock deeply with your open hand, you alternated between massaging and some lighter grasps of his growing erection; using your index and middle finger to squeeze his shaft against your thumb to further coax the tell-tale swell of his length

• of course, he noticed the unexpected touches almost immediately; the only betrayal of anything other than a stern, professional expression being his slightly furrowed eyebrows and lips, pulled into a tight line.

• he'd not had the chance to glance down, but knowing the weeks of sexual torture and teasing he'd put you through, he had few doubts in it being anything other than your eager fingers, brashly fondling him under the table. he'd just not considered that you'd be so unabashed, and was already planning the punishments he'd have waiting for you once the meeting was over

• a small surprised huff had escaped his lips once you began undoing his belt and buckle, lightly pinching the zipper, fully unsheathing his now half-hard cock. taking great care, you earnestly grasped his shaft with your right hand, left cupping his balls, eventually letting all of him hang over his pant button and hem

• quaritch had been doing his utmost to pay attention to the words coming out of the mouths of his colleagues; nodding along, little 'mhmm's slipping out to affirm his thoughts, but the warmth of your soft hands paired with the slight chill of the open air, it only hardened him all the more.

• you'd continued on to leaving wet, slobbering trails from the underside of his swollen balls to the tip of his pulsing cock; eagerly taking breaks to suckle on the rim of his bulbous cockhead, as you coaxed out any slight movements of his hips and thighs

• your lips left warm, open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, using your hands to grope and squeeze what you couldn't fit into your mouth; the almost feverish energy apparent from your swift alternations between sloppy suckles and kisses, to tugging him up and down as you fondled his tightening balls

• with all the excess saliva, the wetness soon began to only accentuate the sounds of your lewd movements; quaritch's ears swivelling and keening to the noises he heard, being unable to stop the graphic images of you on your knees, doe-eyed and mouth doing its best to take him in

• he'd soon made up for the noises through strategic coughing, shuffling and louder approving hums; but what started as subtle gyrating into your mouth had since become more overt upwards bucking, and most definitely caught wainfleet's eyes

• little did either of you know, having been sat facing quaritch meant you were sat almost opposite lyle's outstretched thighs. his ears had been eagerly tuned in to the sweet sounds of your slicked up mouth and small gasps;

• his right hand resting under the table, long blue fingers roughly jerking at his cargo-covered erection. he'd had no real interest in you, but the absence of available and attractive female colleagues meant that the mere noises of real, raw sex only further triggered his hyper-aroused state.

• he just hoped that you'd be too caught up in gagging on the colonel's thick cock to notice the darkened patch of clothing sitting top his length, covered in precum at the though of your lips and tongue; likewise, lyle's ever-widening legs, almost instinctually beckoning you to play with his throbbing blue cock and balls.

• all the while, you'd been doing your best to accommodate quaritch's size; the length was struggle enough, but his sheer girth stretched your mouth and throat to its limits. thankfully the abundance of wetness from your spit, alongside the strings of his sticky juices made taking his cock somewhat easier

• nonetheless, you could tell he was getting close now; his hips grinding into the chair in aims to both escape your ministrations, but also avoid giving away the compromising position you two were in

• as he leaned so far back, you took the chance to swallow as much of his length as you could; knowing that once he sat forward again, he'd be almost hilt-deep inside your soft, slicked up mouth

• nodding your head in time with the pulsing of his shaft, you took extra care to grope and squeeze his balls, scooping up the excess wetness from your cock-filled mouth to smear further down between his legs;

• as you continued on, quaritch's toned blue thighs began tightening and flexing in time with your rhythm; what began as droplets were now sticky lengths of precum, dribbling out from his swollen, pink tip

• his face had since contorted into an almost grimace-like expression; mouth downturned, eyes squinted and cheeks sucked in, doing his best to hide the growing orgasm about to ripple through his body

• having had his eyes fixed to the glasses of water in the middle of the table, hoping to only seem deep in concentration rather than deeply aroused, quaritch dared a glance around the table; soon realising that not just one, but two different colleagues had been clocking him for likely half the meeting at least

• fike was definitely sure something what wrong, because quaritch's normally confident interjects and tuts of disapproval hadn't been heard; much of quaritch's fidgeting had gone over the men's heads, but fike had caught the odd looks that slipped past the colonel's firm expression over the hour.

• likewise, lyle's subtle 'noticing' had since escalated to overtly seeing to himself for almost half an hour - getting quick pumps and palms into his hard, leaky cock as best he could; once quaritch and lyle locked eyes, the gig was up, though

• they'd both been well-acquainted with the expression of badly-masked arousal; it wasn't uncommon to catch a soldier seeing to himself in the showers; but knowing that lyle had been getting off to this, to you, had turned what began as disgust-laden irritation into some form of twisted voyeuristic arousal

• luckily the meeting had come to a natural close soon after quaritch had caught the gazes of both the men; his face turning varying shades of shame as his cock pulsed rapidly in time with his quickened heartbeat, and clenching abdomen

• your soft gags were now deep-throated movements, thick 'glug glug glug's taking away any opportunity for the more expressive moans or squeals in anticipation of his hot, heavy load

• as the men all hummed and murmured in agreement, quaritch's orgasm came over him; pretending to grab his jacket from the table, taking extra time to do so, he bucked hard into your mouth, sticky reams spurting out, covering your tongue, lips and cheeks in his cum

• eyebrows frowning, he placed both palms onto the end of the table, gripping as his knuckles turned a lighter shade of blue. a small "aghk-ugk...eh-hem" being all that signalled his release to his suspecting colleagues.

• quaritch successfully covered up any residual sounds of your thick swallows and deepened breaths with some curt coughs; eventually you zipped up his stained front, slipping further back to the other end of the table, now absent of most of the men

• all standing up, only then could quaritch make out your small triumphant smile, but no later did he catch sight of wainfleet; his almost cocky smirk, heavier breaths and the damp patch covering the middle of his trousers, all the way to his mid-thigh.

• it should have bothered him more than it did, but the prospect of lyle getting off to something he could never have? it seemed to counter any rising anger, replacing it with a more fervent form of possessiveness over you; surely that couldn't hurt

hope you enjoyed lovelies ;P

[fastcardotmp3]

“Where am I going?”

“Eddie—”

“Give me the goddamn room number or— or doctor’s name or— fuckin’—”

“Just slow down, take a breath, okay?” Nancy Wheeler is a level presence, which is ironic Eddie thinks, considering he’s watched her commit multiple felonies even outside of an active apocalyptic situation. 

She’s holding his hand, but he can’t feel it past the aching numbness of uncertainty running through his veins. She’s talking to him as she leads him through the lobby and towards a bank of industrial silver elevators, but he can’t hear her over the chaos of the past hour. 

He was on the air when he got the page, a mug of coffee in hand since he isn’t used to DJing the early morning shows quite yet and a quite frankly sick lineup of songs ready to help his listeners start the day.  

He was on air, still, when his vocal cords seized up, when he left dead air hanging for a full three seconds before his co-host was able to jump in and take over for him. 

He was on air, when his pager buzzed on the desk and he was on air, too, when the little window screamed—

911-STEVE

—and then he wasn’t on air anymore. 

Eddie didn’t grab his coat, which he doesn’t even realize until this moment, striding down the endless halls of Community North on Nancy’s heels. 

He didn’t do much of anything, he doesn’t think, can’t even recall whether or not he explained where he was going, why he was leaving work in the middle of the show, why his hands were trembling and his voice cracking and his breath stuttering. 

A 911 page and a call at a payphone just long enough to find out which hospital, Nance I can be there— I’ll be there, and Eddie blacked out, went into full autopilot, almost slipped on black ice in the parking lot twice and cursed the insurance company for not letting him get a new prosthesis for another two months at least four times after that and drove. 

He doesn’t remember driving. He doesn’t remember parking. 

He’s going to wonder, later, whether or not he locked his truck or even shut the goddamn door before he came barreling in through the ER entrance, but right now all he cares about is this—

“Nance, was it his head? Did he— Or burns, was it burns—?”

Nancy grabs him by both shoulders and drags him to a stop square in front of a door with the blinds drawn over the narrow window. She looks him in the eye. 

If Steve were dead, she wouldn’t be looking him in the eye.

steddie | 2.6k words | rated T | angst with a happy ending

Steve is injured in a fire. His ex-boyfriend gets a call. It was supposed to be easier this way. 

read on ao3

🩵for my beloved louseph @cheatghost whom I am grateful to have met in this corner of the internet every single day of my silly little life, please accept this as the Biggest Warmest Kiss during these cold, cold months 🩵

[esther-dot]

[I posted a list of SEASON 6 AUS before but these are book verse]

the cold inside our bones 2k @xylodemon (just have to point out that this was posted in 2012)

The Wall is no place for a woman, but Jon looks at Sansa's gaunt cheeks and hollow eyes and knows he will not send her away.

we're a different kind of same 3k by @jonsaslove

"I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will” Or; Sansa flees the Vale. Jon retakes Winterfell. When they meet again, they are changed.

Varg-hamr/Wolf-skin 1k by @cappymightwrite

hamr: the ‘shell’ or ‘shape’ of a person — the physical body, a state that can alter. hugr: what a person really is — the absolute essence, that which can leave the hamr behind. (Or, Jon in the body of Ghost, coming across a girl in grey fleeing north, along the east side of Long Lake...)

Pearls of Water ficlet by fedonciadale

Someone wakes up in Castle Black.

Saw You In The Snow 1k by @theemberalchemist

Sansa used the last of her strength to crawl to the foot of the tree, placing her head on its roots like she would lay on her mother's lap lifetimes ago. She could die here, perhaps, in the halo and ghost of her mother's warmth. Her mind drifting to gentle hands pressing against her head, tucking her hair back, humming a sweet song Sansa knew all the words to.

tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme 1k by @hoaryoldbitch

Satin averts his eyes and all around her bodies shift and uncomfortable looks are exchanged. Something akin to fear grips her and automatically she reaches out. Ghost is right there beside her. She wraps her arms around him and buries her fingers in his fur, kissing the top of his head. A buzzing of whispers and hisses arises around her, but one man bursts into a loud and booming laugh. He's tall and burly with reddish hair and a rusty beard. "Is this the beast you've all been afraid of? The pretty little lady tamed the ferocious wolf with a touch of her hand," he snorts, before walking toward Sansa in long strides. Brienne tenses up beside her. "I'll take ye to Lord Snow, lass."

In the darkest night, a song so sweet 2k

The Lord Commander stood atop the Wall and watched as the girl in grey came riding north, her army at her back.

old timber to new fires 27k by @setnet

When Alayne Stone hears word of the marriage of Arya Stark to the Bastard of the Dreadfort, it prompts her to leave the dubious safety of the Vale and set out on a dangerous journey north to Sansa Stark's homeland and her last remaining relative. But home is not safe. Winterfell is burned and broken, the Baratheon King and the Northern Lords are fighting to influence the future of the realm, the dead are stirring... and the old gods of the North are not half gods, worshipped in wine and flowers; they require blood.

And From the Ruins 15k by @thewolvescalledmehome

After awaking, Jon Snow's sole focus is trying to get his sister back. Alayne Stone is trying to survive the Vale. After an accident, she's forced to flee.

Stay With Me 5k

As her eyes shut, probably forever, Sansa Stark thought of one last thing: Jon. Then everything went pitch black.

now we're dead roses 22k

From Ghost’s eyes, he saw a lone, grey horse racing south. On the back of the courser mounted a girl. He could hear her breaths come out in little hitches and gasps as she grasped with all her might to the reins. Ghost chased after her, sprinting fast and nimble on his feet. She was a delicate little thing. Like a breeze could throw her off the horse. Her back shook as she stifled her sobs. Ghost followed on the horse’s rear, eyes sharp on the hooded figure. She must have sensed him behind her because she turned around and suddenly-- Jon woke up with an impossible name on his tongue.

a wind with a wolf's head 13k, WIP by @branwendaughterofllyr

The cold numbed everything. From her nose, to her fingers, to the breath in her lungs, the cold froze and stiffened. Sansa shoved her cloak up around her face and tucked her free hand under her arm. The grey cloth billowed and faded into the darkening twilight as the wind tore at her. Somewhere, a wolf howled, but Sansa was not sure if it was in her mind or not. A ghost wolf, she told herself and pressed on.

Art: The Girl in Grey and Jon's Resurrection by @palominojacoby, The Girl in Grey by @jonsawilldanceanon, The Girl in Grey by @thetullystark , The Girl in Grey by @ozzy698 , The Girl in Grey by @cute-poison20102014, Jonsa Reunion by knightmarescape, Forehead Kiss by colleendoodle, Jonsa Hug by CristianaLeone, Forehead Kiss by rosenroot

PRE CANON - WESTERN - REGENCY - FAIRYTALE - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS

[axelsagewrites]

I hope you feel a bit better now :)

If it's okay I'd like to request Roose Bolton with a new wife who can keep up with his cunning and teases him. If that's too vague let me know.

Roose Bolton*Not Yet

Pairing: roose bolton x f!reader

Word count: 1157

Warnings: roose being a cynic but nothing else I can think of

Masterlist Here

a/n: thanks anon! i do and sorry this took so long :)

Roose Bolton thought love was a lie. Or at the very least completely stupid. When his last wife died, he didn’t care if his knew one was well read or charming or interesting. Just that she was from a good house and ideally wasn’t too ugly. He left everything else up to politics.

After negotiating with his new bride’s uncle, he sat and waited at the dread fort for your arrival. He needed an heir not a love affair. If he wanted that he’d turn to one of the nearby whore houses. However, he was pleasantly surprised when you stepped out of the carriage.

Your house was known for their money in the north, nothing to be mentioned about looks but even beneath the warm grey cloak you wore he could still tell he would be pleased. Even the passerby stopped to take an extra long glance at the mysterious woman climbing out her carriage. Roose didn’t know why it made him puff out his chest or stride over so quickly to meet you, but he didn’t like the feeling it created in him.

“My lady,” he greeted, extending his arm to help you down the final step.

“My lord,” you curtsied to him, but he could see your eyes scanning the courtyard, “I’m afraid we will have to start our meetings discussing business. You see my uncle brought your terms back to my father and them seems to be some confusion,”

“Straight to it then,” I like it, he thought to himself, “Tell me what was so wrong with my terms?” he hadn’t expected the chuckle that left your throat or how you gently shook your head at him.

“I’m afraid we have much to discuss lord Bolton. Perhaps somewhere more private than here?” you said, glancing to where the servants had tried to eavesdrop before quickly scattering.

He nodded and extended his arm for you to take, “Follow me my lady,”

-

Roose left the council room more confused than when he went in. he wasn’t even fully sure what it all was he had just agreed to just that you seemed pleased and that was weirdly enough, “I hope you enjoy your stay with us my lady,” he said as he walked you to your new room, “I’ve had the servants take extra care when preparing for your arrival,” he said and once more you chuckled, “Is something funny?” he asked in the tone that usually made everyone avert their eyes but you instead turned to look into his.

“My stay. As if I shall be leaving at some point. Don’t worry I’m sure this room will suffice,” you said as you opened the door yourself, something he’d planned on doing to act the proper gentleman, “Afterall I won’t be in it for too long I imagine,” you said with a teasing glint in your eye.

Roose cleared his throat as he tried to keep his composer. Never not once had someone spoke to him like this. Well, the whores in the brothels would try and tease but his glares would usually silence them quickly. They only seemed to spur you on however, “You do plan on sharing my bed when we will be wed?” you asked, your lip quirked up into a smirk.

“Of course, my lady,” he stuttered out before sighing to compose himself, “I plan on performing all my husbandly duties and I expect the same from you in return,”

“I’ve been practicing being a wife but alright I suppose,” you quipped before reaching for the door handle as you slipped further into the room, “Goodbye Lord Bolton,”

“Good- “he tried to say however you’d already shut the door, “Bye,”

-

Over the next week he watched you. he watched as your face would light up into a warm smile when talking to his nobles then soon drop as soon as they turned their backs. He saw how you handled servants as if he’d already wed you and how you would gossip with the women then roll your eyes as they walked away.

One day he was sat at lunch in the hall when one of his more troublesome nobles approached him. You were sat on the opposite side of the hall, glancing over at the two before turning back to the other women. “My lord, a moment if you will,”

“Of course,” he said, dragging his eyes from you, “How can I assist you today?” he said through half gritted teeth.

“Well, I considered your proposal over my land,” he started and suddenly Roose was interesting again. He’d been trying to secure some of his land or rather his harvest since the dread fort was not the best place to grow crops, yet this idiot always seemed to have plenty to spare. “I must say your new offer is very tempting,”

“My new offer?”

“The one your lady wife delivered to me. She said you requested it,”

Roose forced a smile on his face as he nodded, “Oh yes of course. and you have considered it?”

He nodded, “Yes I have, and I think you will be very happy to know my answer,”

-

Roose Bolton wasn’t sure if he was impressed, angry, annoyed, or jealous at the fact you had secured a deal in less than a week he’d been working on for almost a year. And worst of all? You weren’t even asking for credit.

“How?” was the only thing he asked when he snuck up behind you in the corridors.

“Do I keep my skin so youthful? You see I- “you started with a smirk on those pretty lips, but he cut you off.

“The deal,”

You rolled your eyes at him but laughed as you did, “It was easy enough I just cut out the middleman,” you said making him tilt his head in confusion, “I went to his wife. Very pragmatic woman even if a bit dull,”

“You know we’re not married yet,” he said, pausing his walk and expecting you to copy but you kept on going forcing him to chase up to catch up with you, “You can’t just make decisions behind my back,”

“I’m sorry was me getting you a bargain an inconvenience?” you asked with a fake pout, “Perhaps if I found out the deal from you and not from idle gossip then I could’ve asked you first,”

“You’ve been here a week,”

“Nine days actually,” you grinned, “only seventeen till we are wed. I count them down you know?” you said as you arrived at your chamber door.

Roose tightened his jaw as your hand reached to unlock the door, “Why is that?”

You laughed lightly, your eyes scanning up and down his body in a way that made his cheeks heat up, “Goodnight Roose. Have the sweetest dreams. I know I will,” you said, shutting the door and leaving someone most in the north considered terrifying to be speechless.

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics

Game of thrones taglist: @mysunflowerspace  @xyinparadise  @nyotamalfoy @asgards-princess-of-mischief

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[thenorthsource]

The Wildling and the Lost Boy (for anon)

AGOT – Catelyn III

"Rickon needs you […] He's only three, he doesn't understand what's happening. He thinks everyone has deserted him”

AGOT – Bran VI

"What are you doing here?" [...]

"They are my gods too," Osha said. "Beyond the Wall, they are the only gods."

[…] “The cold winds are rising, and men go out from their fires and never come back … or if they do, they're not men no more, but only wights, with blue eyes and cold black hands. Why do you think I run south with Stiv and Hali and the rest of them fools? Mance thinks he'll fight, […] but what does he know? […] He's never tasted winter. I was born up there, child, like my mother and her mother before her and her mother before her, born of the Free Folk. We remember." Osha stood, her chains rattling together. "I tried to tell your lordling brother. […] But he looked through me […]. So be it. I'll wear my irons and hold my tongue. A man who won't listen can't hear."

AGOT – Bran VII

"I lived my life beyond the Wall, a hole in the ground won't fret me none, m'lords," she said.

[…] Ser Rodrik had ordered Osha's chain struck off, since she had served faithfully and well since she had been at Winterfell. She still wore the heavy iron shackles around her ankles—a sign that she was not yet wholly trusted—but they did not hinder her sure strides down the steps.

[…]

Rickon patted Shaggydog's muzzle, damp with blood. "I let him loose. He doesn't like chains." He licked at his fingers.

ACOK – Bran V

"Osha," Bran asked as they crossed the yard. "Do you know the way north? To the Wall and . . . and even past?"

ACOK – Theon IV

Osha would need to carry Rickon; his little legs wouldn't take him far on their own.

[…]

Theon Greyjoy knew he was beaten […] Osha had deceived them with some wildling trick.

ACOK – Bran VII

Bran heard fingers fumbling at leather, followed by the sound of steel on flint. Then again. A spark flew, caught. Osha blew softly. A long pale flame awoke, […] Osha's face floated above it. She touched the flame with the head of a torch. Bran had to squint as the pitch began to burn, filling the world with orange glare. The light woke Rickon, who sat up yawning. […]

There stood Osha holding the torch, […] and the double row of tall granite pillars and long dead lords behind them stretching away into darkness . . . but there was Winterfell as well, grey with drifting smoke, the massive oak-and-iron gates charred and askew, the drawbridge down in a tangle of broken chains and missing planks.

[...] "Are we going home?" Rickon asked excitedly.

[…] Osha carried her long oaken spear in one hand and the torch in the other. A naked sword hung down her back, one of the last to bear Mikken's mark.

[…]

"Take me home!" Rickon demanded. "I want to be home!" […] They stood huddled together with ruin and death all around them.

"We made noise enough to wake a dragon," Osha said, "but there's no one come. The castle's dead and burned, just as Bran dreamed,” […]

"Hodor must stay with Bran, to be his legs," the wildling woman said briskly. "I will take Rickon with me."

[thedeathlysallows]

Glow

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader (previously established as Sugar Plum)

Summary: And I'm standing here handing you my heart 'cause I couldn't wait anymore

Warnings: depressed reader, angst, smut. Loki using his shadow magic for nsfw purposes, degredation, spanking, bondage, possessive!Loki, hair pulling. Warnings aren't exhaustive

Here's a part 2 to Santa Baby for y'all. I hope it lives up to expectations!

The year passes by in a dull, painful blur of building toys, spreading Christmas cheer, and ignoring the ache in your chest that appears any time you think about Loki.

No phone call.

No letter.

Nothing.

All you have is the ghost of a memory that fades with each excruciatingly boring day.

You can't even practice your magic properly... since... ya know... he was your teacher. Honestly, someone should've picked up on that. You're not your brother who takes everything in stride and seems to perfect everything with the ease expected of a future Santa Claus. You aren't your mother who just knows what to do to make someone feel better and keeps the elves satisfied and cheery without breaking a sweat. You aren't your father who is Santa Claus and brings joy to every living being across the nine realms.

You're... an imposter in a family of saints.

No wonder Loki ditched you as soon as he fucked you.

That's all you deserve.

To be used and tossed aside.

"You okay over there, sugar plum?" Sprinkle peers at you with curious eyes and rosy cheeks.

You clear your throat and straighten your dress. "Just fine, Sprinkle. How's the blushing bride?"

Sprinkle perks up even more, her mouth stretching into a wide smile. "She's perfect! I love Mrs. Claus more than anything in the whole world, but I think your brother picked a good girl! She'll be the perfect Mrs. Claus when your parents retire and pass the title!"

Sprinkle continues chattering but you block her out. You love Sprinkle, you really do, but it's difficult to listen to her go on and on about how perfect your brother's soon to be wife is. You know how perfect she is. You knew it the moment she stepped foot in the North Pole. You could sense it. Sprinkle is right; she will be the perfect Mrs. Claus one day. She'll have beautiful children who will one day also pick the perfect spouse and the tradition will keep going for as long as the world still spins.

And you'll be somewhere watching.

"I need to go. I can hear them starting the music." You cut off Sprinkle before your chest can cave in from the nasty feeling brewing deep inside you.

Anxiety, Doctor Jolly called it.

(You aren't sure about him with his credentials being from Gumdrop University, but your dad swears he's "the best in the biz". You're pretty sure your dad only says that because good ol' Dr. Jolly always prescribes hot chocolate for almost any ailment of your dad's.)

You wind your way through the labyrinth that is your home, meeting the rest of your family at the front entryway. Red and green garland wrap around every available surface, silver tinsel dripping off various fixtures. If this was your wedding you probably would've requested more decorations, but Holly wanted to downplay the whole "Santa thing" as she called it.

"My family thinks they're in Canada," she confided in you last week. "I couldn't tell them the truth, could I?"

No, she couldn't, but you still feel bad she had to lie to her family.

And all for your brother.

Ew.

"Oh, sugar plum, there you are!" Your mother reaches out for you, running her eyes over your perfectly pleated red dress before nodding to herself. "Sprinkle did a wonderful job."

"As usual." You give her a tense smile and turn to Holly. "How are you?"

She nods, looking flushed and excited. "I'm good! I've been waiting months!"

Months.

Holly and your brother have known each other for months.

Loki's known you practically your entire life and you can't get him to talk to you anymore.

"-go sit down," your mother says.

You've clearly caught the tail end of a conversation, but you can't find it in you to care. She tugs on you, wrapping her hand in the crook of your elbow before stepping through the heavy oak doors to head into what your mother affectionately calls "the entertaining room". It sort of reminds you of the throne room in Asgard, but less austere and more homey with all the dark wood and soft fire light. It's decorated similar to the entry hall, with red, green, and silver covering everything. A giant Christmas tree sits in front of the staircase with yellow twinkling lights and various handmade ornaments.

"They made it after all, how lovely!" Your mother nudges you in the side, forcing you to look up from the red aisle runner.

You follow your mother's line of vision only to meet Thor's eyes. He gives you a broad smile and whispers something to the brunette woman sitting on his left side. She looks completely awestruck, taking in everything. Whoever she is, she must mean a lot to Thor if he risked bringing her to the wedding.

You look to Thor's right and your throat constricts. Loki sits with his back straight and legs crossed, lips curved down in a bored frown. He looks up at the same time you and your mother take your seats in the front row. Not even the comfy cream and silver chairs the elves worked so hard on for the wedding can relax you. Loki's eyes burn holes in the back of your skull through the entire ceremony. You even miss your dad pronouncing the happy couple man and wife, you're so desperate to find an escape route.

For an entire year you wanted so desperately for him to say anything to you, and now all you can think about is getting away.

How brave of you.

Face your problems head on, Doctor Jolly told you months ago. It sounded nice at the time. Helpful even. Now? Now not so much.

No, you'll make the rounds at your parents' side and then go hide in your room.

Good?

Good.

The assembled crowd migrates to the dining room and you try to lose Loki in the throng of bodies. Much to your displeasure, it doesn't work at all. In fact, it's like he's zeroed in on you and nothing can distract him from stalking you in the giant room. You dance around him, downing one glass of champagne followed by two more. Eventually, you lose him and feel your shoulders relax.

"Hello, sugar plum," Loki's low voice purrs in your ear.

The tension in your body comes back immediately. "What the fuck do you want?"

He puts his hand over his heart. "How nasty. Is that any way to treat an honored guest?"

"Honored guest?"

"That's what the invitation said."

"Well I sure as shit didn't write that." You pluck a sugar cookie off the tray of a passing elf. "If it had been up to me it would've said something like "stupid liars need not show up"."

He raises a brow. "Stupid liars?"

"Yeah, well, it's a work in progress. But you get the idea!"

"No, actually, I don't believe I do. What exactly did I lie about?"

"Good question! You-" you bite off the cookie, trying to buy yourself some time. Loki just looks at you, half expectant, half amused.

"Admit it," he goads you. "I haven't lied to you."

"You took my virginity," you accuse.

Loki shrugs nonchalantly. "Something anyone could've done, sugar plum."

"But they didn't!" A few people turn their heads curiously in your direction when they hear your raised voice, and your skin heats up in embarrassment. "I didn't let anyone else. I let you and then you just left me."

Loki's mask of cool indifference falters for a second before he slips it back in place. "Did it not occur to you that I was otherwise occupied?"

"Oh, so you finally made that move on Sif now that she's free from Thor?"

"Of all the stupid, childish things to come out of your mouth, that one might earn the top spot." Loki bends so his lips are right at your ear. "It's been no one but you for a year, sugar plum. Shall I prove it?"

You shove him away and tilt your chin in defiance. "Fuck off, Loki. I don't need you."

Without sparing a look back, you leave the dining room and head to your bedroom. You'd rather be alone forever than spend another second in a room with Loki. Besides, everyone is so busy with your brother and Holly that they won't notice you're gone.

Once in the safety of your bedroom, you strip out of your dress, the heavy red velvet pooling around your ankles. A simple green bathrobe sits on the edge of your bed, but before you can grab it, long fingers wrap around your wrist. Loki tugs you toward him with ease.

"I've certainly missed this sight," he purrs.

"How did you-"

"Magic, sugar plum. You would've sensed me sooner had you been practicing with your own."

"Sorry, my teacher fucked me and dumped me, so I've been a bit depressed."

Loki hums. "Yes, so Sprinkle cornered me and told me."

You genuinely have nothing else to say. An entire year of dreaming of this moment, and now it's here, and you can't think of a single thing to say.

"Speechless, darling? I do tend to have that effect on women." He's teasing you, trying to get you to say something, but you still can't find the words. "Come now, sugar plum. I'm sure you have more to say to me."

You open your mouth only to close it before opening it again. "I don't."

"Not even if I said I've missed you every second this past year? Not even if I said losing my mother didn't even compare to losing you?"

You heard about Frigga dying. You even attended her funeral. Loki had been nowhere in sight.

"I wanted you," he continues. "Every second of every day."

"You're lying," you say.

"How can you be so certain?"

"Because..." You swallow the lump in your throat and blink back the tears. "I'm nothing. I'm no one."

"Who's the liar now?"

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. "You know it's the truth."

Green flames flicker and dance in the depths of his gaze. "I've met many beings in my life, sugar plum, and most of them never deserved to exist. But you? You're not one of them."

"Loki, I don't feel-"

"No, you never do. You never feel anything, do you?" He's angry as he pulls you into his chest, his long fingers leaving their mark on the bare skin of your hips. "If you refuse to help yourself, sugar plum, I suppose it's up to me."

He walks you backwards until the backs of your thighs meet your soft bed. The two of you topple over onto it, Loki's body still pressed firmly to your own. Through his finely pressed suit you can feel every single inch of him. What little bit of his skin is exposed is hot, feverish almost.

"I wasn't avoiding you," Loki says with a snarl.

He presses hot kisses to the column of your throat in between words. Something cold and almost mist-like wraps around your wrists, pinning them in place. You look to either side and see large shadows the same shape as Loki looming over you. That's what holds your wrists down. That's what slithers across your breasts, toying with your nipples and leaving goosebumps all over your skin. His shadows.

You struggle to catch your breath. "Then what were you doing?"

"Preparing, darling."

"For what?"

Loki hums, trailing his fingers from your hips to the insides of your thighs. His touch is light, teasing. "For you. You're mine."

"Y-yours?"

He nods. "Mine."

He spreads your thighs, dragging a finger over your slit. His shadows still hold you firmly in place, allowing their master to do as he wishes with your exposed body.

"Tell me, darling," Loki purrs in your ear as he sinks two fingers deep in your cunt. "Why would I want anything that isn't absolutely perfect?"

You bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. You've wanted this, dreamt of this, for a year... and now you're totally overwhelmed to have his attention again. As Loki's fingers pump in and out of you, you arch your back, your brain going foggy with lust.

"You're a goddess," he continues. His lips are right by your ear and he nips at your earlobe. "I've been searching for a place worthy of us for the past year. You were made to rule by my side."

Loki leans back, a flash of green momentarily joining the warm orange glow of the fireplace. His clothes disappear in the flash and he's back on you in a second.

"You were made for me," Loki whispers. The firelight catches the sharp angles of his face, softening his expression. His shadows disappear and it's just the two of you now. Loki withdraws his fingers from your cunt and strokes his cock. "Yes?"

You nod, eager to have him inside you. "Yes!"

"Mmm, good girl."

He flips you over onto your front and grips your ass, fingertips digging into your flesh. His cock prods and your soaked entrance and you moan into the sheets. One of his palms moves to rest against the small of your back while he uses the other to guide himself inside you. It feels so good, so right, to have Loki buried to the hilt inside you. You feel full. Complete.

"Loki," you moan out as you arch your back, fucking yourself on his cock. "Please!"

Loki strokes your hair before grabbing a fistful and yanking your head back. "So pretty when you beg, sugar plum. But a good whore uses her words. Tell me exactly what you want."

You continue bouncing your ass on his cock, desperate for any sort of friction. "Please, Loki, please fuck me please!"

"Is that all? You just want me to fuck you? Is that all you're worth? A hole for me to come in and throw away after?"

"Y-yes." It comes out as a question more than a statement.

Loki's hand comes down on your ass, a loud slap echoing through the room. "Wrong. What did I tell you that you are?"

"A goddess!"

"What else?"

When you take too long to answer he smacks your ass again. "What else?!"

"Yours," you cry out. "I'm yours."

Loki snaps his hips forward, meeting your own desperate grinding. "Fuck yes you are."

You let your upper body fall forward, relaxing into his smooth movements as he fucks into your cunt. He's thick and hard inside you and reaches spots you didn't even know existed. Your mind goes absolutely blank until the only thing that exists is the sensation of Loki inside you. He moans your name, praises falling from his lips.

So good, he says. Mine. All mine.

"L-Loki..." you gasp out his name as your orgasm washes through you, leaving your body tingling in its wake.

"Yes," Loki groans. "My perfect girl."

His cock twitches inside you as he comes, his body draping over yours in the aftermath of his own orgasm. His chest rises and falls quickly as he rolls to his side and pulls you with him.

"Are you leaving now?" You hate how small your voice sounds when you ask the question, but Loki's answer has you sighing in relief.

"Never again, sugar plum. As I said earlier, you're mine. Now and forever. In every lifetime."

[wardenparker]

The Viper’s Bride - ch 6

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst​

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: E for Explicit Word Count: 11.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid* Anger, arguments, hurt/comfort, Oberyn and Ellaria having some group sex as they do, a whole lot of tears, an intense lack of sexual education, homophobia, reference to past killings, angst. Summary: Misunderstandings and high tension after King Joffrey’s murder, leading to volatile moods for nearly everyone.  Notes: Internalized homophobia and a lack of sex education is such an intensely important set of topics to me, and being able to address them with such sex and sexuality positive characters like Oberyn and Ellaria is a beautiful personal catharsis. 🧡💛✨

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

As soon as possible, Oberyn ushered you, Ellaria and Raeden back to the brothel. The panic on the streets is settling in as word spreads. The fear of war or change always affects the lower rungs of society in a more base way than the nobles’ petty squabbling. Once in the safety of the rooms, his eyes cut over to Raeden. “You will stay with our lovers at all times outside these walls.” He orders. “I do not know now when we will be able to leave King’s Landing, but we should be cautious.”

“They will never be beyond my reach.” He promises, his hands twitching to reach out and offer comfort but unsure of himself in this situation. Dancing with Ellaria and offering her comfort are two different things, and you had spent your entire day at the prince’s side with such seeming happiness. Until the moment of tragedy, of course.

The death of the king has unnerved Oberyn far greater than he has led on. Not because the pompous little shit is dead, no he found that to be most satisfying. The way he died was what concerned the prince. Poison. The manner of demise that the Prince of Dorne has implemented many times and is well known for. The fact that he had not been accused of anything was merely because Cersei’s grief had left her unable to hatch her schemes quick enough to implicate him along with Tyrion. When the king started to choke and turn purple, both you and Ellaria had been on the cusp of taking a sip of your own goblets, causing Oberyn to knock them out of your hands most violently. Striding over to Raeden, he cups the back of the taller man’s head, dragging him closer. “Accept nothing from any noble.” He hisses.

"Nothing, your Grace." This side of the man is the face of a warrior, and it is a face that Raeden recognizes. There is worry there, concern, and while that does give the younger man pause it is good see that his concern is for the two women and not just for himself like other nobles. "There will be invitations, though," he needs to make the prince aware of that, if nothing else.

“They come through me.” Oberyn insists before he pauses. It would be suspicious if he were to change the way he normally acts so he shakes his head. “Inform me.” He decides. “And you will be with them at every moment. Not a drop of wine passes their lips unless it is checked.”

"We are not under suspicion, are we?" As shaken as you are, you have been sitting in a tangle with Ellaria to ground yourself and seek comfort. The last thing you had expected was to be pulled into Queen Margaery's arms and be on full display in front of the entire court as she trembled in grief.

“The king was just murdered.” Oberyn scoffs. “Everyone is under suspicion, though Cersei will use this to hang her brother. But we cannot be too cautious.” He warns. “Others may use it as an opportunity to take advantage.” While he is a second son, he is still important to Dorne.

"Oberyn's knowledge of poisons is well known," Ellaria explains to you quietly, patience in her voice as she hugs you to her side. "As is his hatred of the Lannisters. Even if they do not suspect he poisoned the boy's wine himself, it is not a stretch to believe that he may have had a hand in things. We must all be cautious."

Oberyn nods as he watches Raeden’s eyes narrow with understanding. “Yes. We have to be cautious.”

"What a hellish day." You sigh quietly, curling in on yourself and deflating away from Ellaria's side as everything begins to catch up with you. To begin the day worrying about something as trivial as a bath, to go through arguments and confusion and guilt, and to come out on the other end having witnessed a murder is making your head spin. "I think...I will retire?" Looking up at the prince for permission, you feel like a child all over again. "If you do not require me, that is. Sleep is sometimes the best remedy for an unhappy day."

He lets go of the man who bears your marks and he nods. “Of course.” He murmurs quietly. “Take your Raeden with you and rest, unless you wish to have the comfort of multiple bodies.” He offers. “Then you are welcome to the bed here.”

"There will be no pleasure for me tonight." Standing two feet from a dying man has erased that need from your body and mind for the foreseeable future, and you shake your head. "I may read, but sleep is preferable to feeling sick."

“Comfort does not always mean pleasure.” Oberyn reminds you, frowning slightly as he takes your comment as an insult towards him. “Goodnight, Princess.” He moves towards Ellaria and pulls the other woman into his arms.

The light in his eyes extinguishes when he is displeased, you have already noticed, and in the moment before he turns away from you he is supremely displeased. Without the presence of mind to understand exactly what you have said wrong, you all but flee to the adjoining bedroom. The man is mercurial and fascinating, but until you learn his ways and his meanings you fear you may misstep more often than not.

“She did not mean it that way, lover.” Ellaria hums, reaching up to wrap her arms around Oberyn’s neck to comfort him. Scoffing, he shakes his head. “It was meant.” He grunts, his own sigh far heavier than perhaps he understands himself. Your judgement of him is something that he finds far harder to cast off than most. “So I dare not disappoint her expectations.”

“Two days is not long enough to know a person’s mind,” she tuts softly. “And she watched a man die today. For the first time. That can be difficult to process.”

There is a rational side of Oberyn that understands that, but right now he doesn’t care. He grips his lover’s chin and stares into her eyes. “Call the whores in.” He orders. “Plus the ones you wished to try.”

“The one I wish to try has retreated.” Ellaria pouts at the closed door to the other room, where Raeden had dutifully followed you. “No matter. Is Ser Loras joining us tonight?”

Oberyn shakes his head. “Another time. The man has decided to comfort his sister.”

“Ah.” She nods, understanding that Oberyn feels rejected on two fronts and not simply one. “I will see who is available for us.”

“I don’t care if they are available.” Oberyn grunts, pulling away and striding quickly over to the table to pour a glass of wine before he stares into the cup and sniffs it. “Get them here.” He orders before he takes a sip. “And tell Littlefinger they will be in my bed for the rest of the night.”

Ellaria nods, saying nothing and certainly not pointing out that Oberyn twists his face in exactly the same way that their oldest daughter does when she throws a tantrum for not getting her way. Instead she simply glides from the room, knowing she will have to come back with a bevy of willing bodies in order to calm him tonight.

His jaw is clenched, hand gripping the goblet as he stares at the door that has shut off his view of you and your soulmate. There is a divide between you and for the first time since you had busted into his room and demanded his protection, he regrets marrying you.

****** Undressing from Dornish gowns is easier than the ones you grew up with, and it takes half the time you would normally need to be in a nightdress and under the covers. Raeden has not joined you, not yet, but you barely notice from how distant he has felt since you spoke this morning. Perhaps no one wishes for your company tonight. That would be disappointing but not a surprise.

It is only ten minutes from the dismissal of your company from his presence that the noises start to come from Prince Oberyn’s chambers. Making Raeden quickly step back from the door and hastily start removing his sword and armor to distract himself.

Any attempt to read will now be in vain, and you put down your book on the table beside the bed. This is precisely what you could not stomach for yourself tonight – physical pleasure would only make your roiling stomach feel much worse and you sigh into the night air.

"I have never known you to judge how people behave." Raeden comments, slightly disappointed in your sigh. It reinforces his fear that you will reject him if he were to confide his secrets to you. "Yet you judged your husband."

“I judged nothing,” you insist, surprised to hear him think so. “It is simply that I do not crave to be touched tonight. Is that so terribly wrong after seeing a man murdered?”

Raeden turns to you, his robes discarded and just the soft shirt underneath cladding his chest. "My love...you husband did not offer to fuck you." He hums. "He was offering you the safety of his bed for comfort, just comfort. And you rejected him most curtly."

Frowning when you turn to look at him, the air of having done wrong hangs over you and makes shame twist inside you alongside the guilt you have felt for hours. “You sound as though you want me to go to him.”

"I doubt you would care for what you would see if you entered his chamber now." He shakes his head and frowns. "I will not have any opinion of your actions, my princess." He offers stiffly.

“Gods above, will everyone stop calling me that?” Despite it being your husband’s title, you feel no connection to it, and you end up sitting straight up in bed. “I welcome your opinion, Raeden. I treasure it. But when no one around me will speak plainly is it my fault for misunderstanding?”

Raeden's jaw clenches and he doesn't move, doesn't soften to comfort you like he would have only days before. He cannot. Not when things have shifted so drastically, and he is feeling as if is being tossed about in a storm on the Narrow Sea. "Then I shall remain silent so there is no chance of misinterpretation."

In a flurry of frustration, you nearly throw yourself out of the luxurious bed and stamp across the room, flinging yourself onto the chaise under the windows instead. If he is going to be rude and dismissive then you want nothing to do with him, either. “Good night, ser.” You grit out before extinguishing the final candle and plunging the room into darkness.

Raeden stands in the darkness, anger and shame twisting in his gut. Along with the arousal that every moan and cry of pleasure from next door fosters in his loins. Instead of begging for your forgiveness or relighting the candles, he gathers his armor and his sword in the darkness before leaving your chambers. "Good night, princess." He murmurs before shutting it behind him.

******

“Raeden?” From her position between Leyth’s legs, Ellaria spies him the second he appears dressed only in his undershirt and a frown while carrying his armor. “Has something happened?”

"Forgive me." His eyes shift uncomfortably away from the scene of absolute debauchery in front of him. Trying not to hear the sounds of skin slapping as your husband doesn't pause in his thrusts into the buxom whore under him. "I— I just need to—" He gestures towards the door that leads out into the hallway of the brothel. He will redress and stand guard outside the chambers where his soulmate and her husband are sleeping. Instead of going out of the door from your chambers to the hallway, he had fucked up and entered Oberyn's chamber.

“You are welcome to join us if you wish.” She reminds him, doubting but hopeful that he might be enticed.

The shake of his head is quick, almost violent. "I—I cannot." He grunts, eyes falling on a male whore who is laying on his stomach, obviously resting or preparing to rejoin the group. "My apologies for disturbing you."

As quickly as he appeared, he is gone again. Out through the door that leads to the hallway where no one but passersby will encounter the weary knight.

In the dim light from the torches, Raeden redresses, leaning against the wall as he stands between the two doors that lead to the chambers. One he is unwelcomed in right now, one he desperately wants to enter but cannot. Not if he wishes to keep his soulmate.

******

The next morning when Leyth's familiar face delivers fresh wine and a tray of delicacies to break your fast with, you barely stir on the chaise. You had not moved back to the bed after Raeden stormed out last night and you had cried yourself in and out of rest through most of the night. The pillow you finally fell asleep on is stained from tears and it is surely the worst night you have spent in weeks – since finding out you would be destined to marry a man who was not your soulmate. At least then you had had Raeden to comfort you for a time.

Raeden's eyes are heavy, staring between the doors as he stands watch. He had not slept. Keeping guard over your rooms as was his station and duty. Unable to rest, his spine stiffens slightly when he hears your soft groans as you start to wake. He missed holding you, being close to you. But you had wished to be alone so he had granted your wish. The door to Oberyn's suite slips open again and another two naked women file sleepily out of the room, besides Leyth, the man and another woman had left earlier.

The day holds no appeal for you whatsoever, with the people closest to you seemingly all upset with you, and you send Leyth away as politely as you can without dressing. No one wishes to see you and you do not wish to see them if they feel that way, so you will stay here and read. Even food holds no appeal for you, which is a change from your normal self indeed. Since Raeden had not returned at any point you have to assume - with regret and something else that you cannot or will not name – that he spent the night in another bed. A whore's maybe, or even Ellaria's, and that thought brings a whole new wave of tears.

******

“Good morning, lover.” Oberyn frowns, his eyes still closed, although his arms open to allow Ellaria to snuggle into his chest. “How was your sleep?” He asks groggily, still tired and sated from the activities of the previous night.

"Someone was snoring," she chuckles softly, crawling a few inches to deposit herself in Oberyn's arms. "How did you sleep, my love?"

“Better than I imagined.” Oberyn hums, rubbing her back gently. “Better than the cold bed next door.”

"What do you think happened?" Doubtful that you would have dismissed Raeden or that he would have left without some kind of deep disagreement, Ellaria frowns even as she places a kiss on Oberyn's shoulder.

Oberyn rolls his eyes and sighs. The hurt he had been dealt last night for offering you solace was not quite healed. “No doubt her lover tried to comfort her and was tossed out on his ass.” He snorts. “I dare not ask so I am not accused of suggesting an orgy.”

Ellaria almost groans, leveling her soulmate with a dubious glare. “Have we not learned that she is sheltered?” She reminds him, sitting up against the pillows at the head of the bed. "You offered her the comfort of multiple bodies and she took your meaning to be literal. That is not a sin, Oberyn. Only foolish."

“As you say.” He grumbles, the stubbornness of most Martells is enhanced in the second son. “Despite my repeated reassurances that I would not force her.”

"And you have not. She thought she was declining an offer." The fact that his mind and his reason seem to be clouded by you is worth noting, but Ellaria knows her soulmate well enough to know that he is still wounded, so she will not press his pride. "As for Raeden, I do not know what might have happened. But certainly your bride had a very lonely night."

“Where do you think he spent his night?” Oberyn wonders. “He would not even look at the brunette as I was plowing her field, so I doubt he spent the night between the thighs of a whore.”

"You ordered him to protect the princess," Ellaria reminds him, having seen which door Raeden went out when he retreated last night. "So I expect he stood guard all night as he was told."

He huffs, sitting up and rolling his eyes. “Gods old and new save me from these two literal creatures.” He groans, shifting so he can move to the edge of the bed and stand up. You and your soulmate are going to be the death of him.

Raeden's back straightens like a plank when the door to his right opens to reveal the prince draped in his untied robe looking bleary eyed as though he has just awoken. "Your Grace." He manages to stifle a yawn, swallowing it down and looking straight ahead to mask his tired features.

"Gods’ fool." Oberyn hisses, knowing immediately that the man has not slept for a moment. "I did not mean for you to stay awake all night." He motions Raeden over towards him. "Come. You will sleep before you fall down where you stand."

If he had his mind, he would argue that he could not protect you while asleep in a different room, but Raeden is altogether too weary for such a debate and nods dutifully before following the prince into the large chamber with its oversized and overstuffed bed. Just the night before it had been swarming with writhing bodies, but now it is simply disheveled as it stands empty in the center of the room.

“Strip your clothes and sleep.” Oberyn grunts as he moves over towards the table to grab a cup of wine. Needing to wash his mouth clean of sleep before he takes his lover to the bathing chamber to wipe her skin clean of cum.

“It is not the longest watch I have stood, my lord,” Raeden insists, though he is unbearably tired. Ill thoughts are a taxing burden and make a man weary all on their own.

“I do not make my men stand watch until they are too tired to fuck or fight.” Oberyn scoffs. “You will sleep, your princess is still safely pouting in her chambers.”

Having felt the sting of your rejection himself, Raeden says nothing to defend or condemn you. He says nothing at all, but weakly strips down and crawls under the plush blankets strewn across the prince’s bed. You will come looking for company when you are ready. You always do.

It is telling that the man almost immediately falls asleep. Making Oberyn smirk as he watches him for a moment before turning his attention back to his paramour. "Come." He urges her quietly. "We will spend a lazy morning in the bath while the lovers recover from their trying night apart."

“Poor dears,” Ellaria clicks her tongue and shakes her head, but leaves it at that as she follows Oberyn out of the room. You will both be fine, as long as you stop being stubborn and reach out. Although, the same could often be said of Oberyn.

Sleep comes easy for a soldier. He is used to falling asleep quickly and waking just as fast. Now, with the emotional turmoil of the night, he is exhausted and seems to be asleep right before his head hits the incredibly soft pillow. Dreaming of you, Oberyn and Ellaria twisted together in passion and laughing together as he stands off to the side. Rejected like he always has been.

******

It is well past midday when you finally emerge from your chamber, sheepishly intending to offer apologies to those you upset last night. It evaporates in the face of Raeden’s still-sleeping form laid out bare in your husband’s bed. The sharp intake of your own breath barely comes before a sob, and all at once you are fleeing behind your chamber door again with a violent slam.

The slamming of the door rouses Raeden, making him groan as he lifts his head and looks around sleepily. "My love?" He croaks softly, confused about where he is since he had been sleeping so soundly. He blinks and rolls over, the memory of Oberyn ordering him to sleep coming back to him and he realizes he fell asleep in the prince's bed. He wonders where the prince and his lover are, remembering that they had been there when he had climbed into the bed.

Unable to distinguish exactly why you feel so betrayed to see Raeden in the bed the prince and his soulmate normally occupy, you fling yourself onto your own bed instead and bury your face in a new pillow to soak it through with fresh tears. It feels as if a dagger has been shoved through your heart and twisted, leaving you ragged and breathless for reasons you can neither articulate nor separate. All you know, in that moment, is that the other half of your soul saw you in pain and instead of reaching out a hand to help you, he became as unyielding as his name and sought pleasure from others while you were raw and wretched.

Groaning, Raeden sits up and he rubs his hand over his face. Wondering if you are still in your room, he shuffles to his feet and walks over to the door. “My love?” He croaks out, knocking softly.

If you had a prayer of hearing the weak motion normally, it certainly would never have been heard over the muffled sound of your own tears blocking your ears. There may as well be no one else in the world for the kind of alone you feel in this moment.

He opens the door when he doesn’t hear you call out. Still sleepy enough that your muffled sobs don’t register as he calls your name. “Are you awake?” For all he knows, you have decided to sleep the day away. He steps into the bedroom and closes the door behind him, still nude.

His voice is a surprise, finally near and loud enough to hear, and you shove yourself up to sitting only for the dignity of not being seen sprawled out like a sobbing child. "Of course I am awake. It is past mid-day." You cut out, desperately trying to wipe your eyes. "I take it you enjoyed your night very thoroughly without me."

Raeden blearily rubs his eyes and frowns in confusion. “What?” He asks, instantly annoyed at your tone. “What are you talking about?” After so little sleep, he is not functioning at peak condition.

"I recognize that I was not pleasant company last night and I had intended to apologize for that, but I stepped out from my room to find you sleeping very soundly in my husband's bed. Naked. As you are now." Halfway between hurt and anger lies jealousy, and the ugliness of it twists inside you like a serpent. It makes you mean when you do not want to be, needy for the same frustration in others that you feel in yourself. "I hope that it was worthwhile."

The sleepiness is instantly gone and all that Raeden sees is the anger, the disgust on your face, hurt it in your voice. You think that he slept with your husband, or maybe his paramour and he knows he was right now not to share himself with you. “Exceedingly, Princess.” He stiffens, jaw clenched and his heart shatters, knowing that the love he thought he had does not exist. “No apologies are necessary. I am but a servant.” Bare assed, Raeden bows mockingly and moves to the door.

If he heard the wretched sob that came from your mouth after the door closed behind him, he gave no indication. Raeden only returned to the bedside where he had awoken to retrieve his clothing, dressing again with an unmoving continence and automatic movements.

******

Unaware that turmoil and angst are afoot, Oberyn sighs, completely rejuvenated after his bath with Ellaria. “I should let the girl come to me.” He argues as they walk hand in hand, dressed in nothing more than silk robes and their hair wet from scrubbing.

"I wonder that you think so, being the father of eight daughters." She tells him flatly, but squeezes his hand to show she is not upset with him. "She does not know how to trust you yet and the last words spoken between you were in anger. At least show her that you are no longer upset."

Oberyn bites his lip and frowns, feeling that his lover is making a good argument. While he had felt his innocent gesture had been taken as an insult, you did not know him well enough to understand that he does know that not everything can be fixed by a romp in a bed. “I will speak with her before waking Raeden to dress.” He decides, looking at the woman who has stood by his side for nearly twenty years. The woman who wears his makes and is half of his soul.

"Take her for a walk." Ellaria suggests, leaning over to place a kiss on his shoulder as they walk together. "Or share a meal with her. Something that she would consider...normal." There is always the chance that you will not want to see or speak with him, but she does not think you are a cross enough person to have that anger in you. Stubborn, perhaps. But your soul seems to be a bright one most of the time.

"I will show her the markets along the waterfront." He remembers how much you seemed to enjoy the sounds and smells of the waterfront. "I will drop in to speak with her and then come back to dress."

"She will be safe with you, and you will be seen being unafraid in the chaos of the day." Ellaria nods, clearly approving of his decision. "It will be good for both of you."

He kisses her hand and stops in front of the door that leads to the room you are occupying. “If she is unwilling to talk, I will leave her to sulk. And we will venture out.”

"I will go and check on our slumbering knight in the meantime." She tells him with a grin.

“My sun, my world.” He promises her with a tender kiss to her lips. Far more intimate than most exchanges of lips in this establishment.

"My beloved." Unable to let him go without one more kiss, Ellaria hums in satisfaction and flits away, pushing through the door to his left to go in search of their Ser Raeden.

Oberyn had thought to knock for a brief moment, but he did not wish for you to ignore him. Instead, he opens the door and slides inside the room to speak with you.

The crying has stopped, thank the gods in their heavens, or at least it has paused. When you hear the door scrape open you feel heavy and exhausted from so many tears and barely move from your place in the bed. "If you have come to be angry with me again, Raeden, I cannot stomach it," you manage despite your scratchy throat.

“What would have your Ser Raeden upset with you?” Oberyn frowns, unhappy to see that you have been obviously crying. “The man was sleeping yet an hour ago.”

This was not at all the voice you were expecting, and it wrenches a dry, cracked sob from you by way of surprise. "Aye. He was. Exhausted from a night that I had no part in, I take it."

He pauses, confused by your meaning and then it clicks. The man had stripped down, taking Oberyn’s order literally. You must have seen him sleeping while he and Ellaria were in the baths. “Gods help me.” He groans, striding over to the table and pouring you a cup of wine to soothe your throat. He shakes his head as he walks towards you. “Your lover stood guard outside the chambers all night after your spat. Guarding his princess.” He explains. “While I take no issue with having him in my bed, the man was only there to rest. After I had awoken for the day.”

Pulling the robe over your nightdress back onto your shoulders from where it has become disheveled, you look up at the prince with genuine confusion clouding your eyes. "He would have said so. Surely?" At least...you hope that he would have. But he has not been himself lately. "He has acted so strangely the last few days it is like I hardly know him anymore."

“Did you ask, or did you accuse?” Oberyn asks you bluntly. “I offered last eve to send the whores away for the night and let my wife be comforted by a bed filled with her lover, her husband and her friend only to be told that the thought pleasure was revolting. As if I was crass for offering.”

You tilt your head at him, sniffling back more tears, and hold the wine he has handed you in trembling hands. "I did not—" A wave of shame washes over you and makes your stomach turn to boot, and your head drops to match it. "I did not understand that you meant to send them away," you admit quietly. "You offered me bodies for comfort and I...I misunderstood. But I had thought to turn down the offer kindly. My only fear was in disappointing you."

“Ellaria surmised as much.” Oberyn sighs and steps closer. While you are not as young as he had feared when learning of you, you are still very sheltered. His hand reaches out to caress your shoulder and offer the warmth of his arms if you would like it. “I would not lie to you. Your lover has not received any pleasure in my bed beyond the hour of sleep he had stolen.”

Shifting over slightly on the bed makes enough space for him to sit, and you nearly hold your breath until he takes it, afraid of misreading a gesture again. More than anything, what you have craved since last night is safety as much as comfort. What happened to the king was unimaginably cruel and violent and what little sleep you had was marked with nightmares from it. "I had intended to apologize to you when I left my room some time ago. But being so unpleasant last night. But I—I saw him in your bed and I...I assumed..."

“Star, I admit that I had my fill of lovers last night.” He will not lie to you. “It would have shocked you to see what was happening in that room. Your Raeden would not even look at the whore I was fucking when he burst in. He had stood sentinel during the night so you would be safe.” Oberyn reaches over and covers your hand with his own. “It has been a taxing few days for you. I will not stay angry at small miscommunications like this.”

"It is not the lovers that I mind." It never has been. Although the realization of exactly how prolific his sex drive is was a certain amount of shocking, it does not offend or upset you. "Take as many as you like, continue on as you have been, that does not upset me." You remind yourself to breathe, and to drink the wine that was brought to you to soothe your throat. "What upsets me is feeling as if I am not wanted or needed. Or, worse, feeling as though I am in the way."

“You feel as if you are not wanted?” He is confused by that because he has mentioned several times that he would like to have you in his bed. “I am afraid I do not understand.” He confesses. “My lover and I would like you in our bed, not just to make you writhe with pleasure. And your Raeden is your soulmate. He wants nothing more than to be with you.”

"He did." But you are convinced that something has changed in him. "Last night he refused to speak to me when I wanted nothing more than to be understood." Taking the chance on leaning closer to him, the warmth of the prince beside you is more comforting than you would have expected. "Yesterday at the wedding he said we did not know the difference between lust and love. He has been a very different man since arriving in King's Landing."

“I am afraid that my paramour and I have caused friction between the two of you.” Oberyn sighs. “I must apologize to you for that. I never wanted to come between you as soulmates.” He frowns and tries to decide what might be best for you and your lover. “Would you like to talk to him?” Oberyn shifts and wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"I would not know what to say." You were both so angry when he came in just a little while ago. So filled with venom and unhappiness. "Perhaps he was correct, and I do not know my feelings at all. I cannot say anymore."

“Speak from your heart.” He urges you, reaching over and touching your chest where it beats. “You love him. Sometimes you must fight for what you love.”

He means well, you are certain that he does. But when he reaches to touch your chest gently over your nightdress there is a moment where you are certain you will ignite from a simple touch. "You make it sound as though I ought to have a suit of armor."

“Perhaps you should.” He smiles at that, happy that the unhappiness in your eyes turns to mirth for a moment. “Passion outside the bed is just as important as in it.”

"Passion outside of the bed has never lacked before," you tell him honestly, feeling again that the pull of truth runs deeply between you. "I have only shared my bed with two people, and they have both been guarded secrets."

“Two?” His brow raises in surprise. “I had thought your Raeden was your only lover.”

"It has been pointed out to me that sharing a bed with someone can mean things other than lovemaking." If it can be an offer of comfort, surely it can be other things as well. "My father employs a maester to look after his library, and that maester had had a child before taking his vows. She was employed as a kitchen maid in our home. And...she was very special to me."

From your tone, he knows that this woman was far more than a ‘friend’. “She was your lover.” He is delighted that you are not as prudish as you might have seemed, exploring pleasure with another girl before your soulmate.

“Not…precisely.” As close into his side as you are, you look down into the wine in the goblet in your hands instead of over at him. “Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that we were as close to lovers as two women can be.”

“Did you touch her?” He asks, tilting his head. “Taste her skin and learn what makes her keen in pleasure?” With your literal interpretation of things, perhaps you are unaware of what being a lover means.

“Well…I…yes, but—” This need to be honest with him has let you flustered and honestly wondering how you had gotten so off course in your conversation. “But…” With his reputation surely he understands this already? “Two women cannot…there is not a way for them to make love…”

He chuckles, sliding his hand up from your chest to cup your cheek. “My dear,” he murmurs softly. “Love comes in many forms. Sex is the same. She was your lover. You touched her as a lover does.” He explains softly. “If your Raeden just uses his mouth to make your cunt spasm, do you not consider yourself to have found pleasure?”

“But that is not…it is not sex.” As crudely as you are capable of speaking about it to the person you are sharing the act with, this moment is far from that. The prince is far more experienced, worldly, and knowledgeable than you are, yet the basic fact of what you were taught remains. “For a man and a woman to come together…to find pleasure…that is different.”

"Does that mean that any man I have in my bed does not have sex because his cock is not in a cunt?" Oberyn asks, genuinely curious about your reasoning.

“I—no…you have…” You sigh, dropping your face into one upturned hand and despising yourself for turning meek in front of the man you promised yourself that you would not be a fool to. “I have no trouble speaking of desire while receiving it, but discussing it like this appears to leave me dumbfounded.”

"There is nothing to be ashamed of." He hums, shaking his head. "The septa will not quiz you and beat your hand with a stick if you feel different that I do." He chuckles quietly and sighs softly. "You most likely felt shame at wanting your friend, touching her and wishing to touch her, no?" He asks.

"It was not to be spoken of." There was too much fear there, even at the age when other girls were beginning to be married. "She would have been sent away. Or...knowing my mother as you do now, you can imagine that it might have been worse."

"I imagine she would have had you dragged through the streets and beaten." He grunts, unhappy with the idea and cursing your mother. "And how did you act when asked about your lover? Even innocently?"

"We always said that we were reading together," you explain, huffing out a soft laugh. "She was annoyed at the idea of educated girls in her home, but lost interest after that."

"But you were fearful of someone discovering your secret." He pushes. He wants you to make the connection that he believes is why your lover is so changed since his arrival in King's Landing. He has seen the desires in the man's eyes, along with the shame.

"Of course." Her fate would have been sealed if you had been discovered. She would have been sent away at the very least. You cannot even imagine what your own punishment would have been.

"So you were guarded. Closed off." He hums. "It is smart when you do not wish to be judged."

"You are trying to make a point, but I fear I am not myself enough to understand."

"Your Ser Raeden seems to be hiding a secret." He points out gently.

"And...he fears I would judge him." It takes having the puzzle pieces laid out before you to be able to see the image they complete, but you nod solemnly. "I would not. No matter how terrible. But I thought surely that he knew how much I love him."

"Fear has a way of making you disbelieve what you know to be true." He murmurs. "You know your Raeden is loyal to you, and yet just this morning you were sure that he had shared my bed without any thought to you."

He is correct, though the feeling of discontentedness in the pit of your stomach is very uncomfortable. "I fear the situation may be more complicated than it seems."

"I will send your lover to you." Oberyn offers, patting your knee gently. "If your talk does not go how you wish, I will take you to the waterfront markets. How does that sound, star?"

"None of this is why you came to me; I do not think." While he has listened and given you admirable support, you have been exceedingly selfish with his time. "Will you tell me why you came, first?"

He hums and tilts his head. "I had come to apologize for my cross behavior." He admits. "I do not wish you to believe that I was angry at you. I was hurt, but I wanted to make amends. To offer to visit the marketplace on an outing."

"Then we should go to the marketplace." Feeling that everyone you care about was upset with you last night was not a pleasant sensation and you want nothing more than to erase it from your heart completely. "And perhaps..." A nervous swallow comes with a flustered face, but you are feeling more yourself now and braver. "Perhaps tonight we might spend time together? Not as two pairs of soulmates but...all together?"

He watches you for a moment before he nods. "That can be done." He knows that means that his usual entertainment will be placed on hold, but the ease of your relationship is more important than fucking that blonde he had seen in the baths. "After your talk with your Raeden? I must dress anyway."

"Thank you." Gratitude is not something you expected to feel today, but you certainly do.

"You are my princess." Oberyn reminds you, giving you a soft smile and leaning in to kiss your cheek. "I will send him in shortly."

"I have grown up with a view of marriage that is quite uncomfortable and certainly not encouraging," you remind him. "So I am grateful, and thankful, to find it is possible to be honest with you and be myself with you. Even if it is not always perfect."

"Perfection is boring." Oberyn smirks as he stands, caressing your cheek before he turns and walks to the doors that connect your rooms.

The waiting seems to take forever, but you dress yourself in something simple while - you assume - the prince is speaking to Raeden. By the time your chamber door reopens you are sitting at the long table with food and wine, barely picking at what was brought to you but knowing that you need something to keep your strength up.

This time when he enters your chambers, Raeden is fully dressed. Making sure that he looks as presentable as any other day had been a chore while Ellaria had chastised him as if he were a small boy. It had shamed him and now when he closes the door behind him, he stands unsure as to what to say or how to make amends.

“Raeden…” Taking a deep breath and smoothing your dress despite it being already pristine, you stand from the table and come around it. “Please allow me to apologize. I was upset last night and acted out, and I did not mean to aim those frustrations at you. Even worse, today when I had made up my mind to find you and make this apology then, I instead lashed out. You deserved none of this behavior.”

Instead of dismissing your apology with a frosty demeanor, Raeden bows his head. "I should not have left." He murmurs. "Nor should I have accepted your husband's offer of sleep." It had been an order, but the fault is still his. "It will not happen again." You are his soulmate, who the gods have determined he is supposed to be with and love. Only you. So he will do his best to honor that.

“You were exhausted. Sleep was needed.” Taking the chance to move closer to him, you step out and find that he does not shrink away from you. “My love, I know that these few days have been trying for both of us.”

"There have been many changes." He agrees diplomatically. "I do not fault you for being wary and cross." He covers your hands on his chest with his own. "I will not let you down again." Reminding himself of his duty to you, his station is necessary. He was forgetting that he was born without a name. Without a future.

“It is I who have let you down.” But the feeling of his warmth so near has you nearly sighing it is so comforting. “So many changes and I have not once asked if you are still happy. Or what could be done to make you even happier.”

"You are my soulmate." He insists. "It is more than I deserve just to touch you." He has long known that you deserve more than him, though you do not think so.

“That is not the same as being happy.” Both of your arms encompass him, Drawing him close to you in the middle of that room. “You deserve happiness.”

"Happiness is not always possible for some of us." He reminds you, even as he allows you to pull him close. "You do not need to worry about me, my love."

“Is there not a chance that it could be?” Risking pressing too hard and upsetting him, you cannot find it in you to back down from this idea. It seems to have burrowed inside of you most ardently. “I know that you wish for more than you have, love. But perhaps it is both of our fortunes that might change in Dorne, and not only mine.”

"I cannot wish for more than you." Raeden insists, clenching his jaw slightly and clutching at your hands almost desperately. "I am not discontent with you." He swallows harshly and bites his lip. "I do not understand what you are meaning."

Swallowing pride and fear, you cling to Raeden’s hands and remember the prince’s words. “May I tell you something, my love? Something that…I have been afraid to share? That I taught myself to think of with such importance?”

"You can share anything with me." There is a certain sense of irony in his statement. That he would protect you from anything, protect any secrets you might have. Even if he did not trust you with his own shameful secrets.

Managing to get him to sit with you, you pour wine into a second goblet for him and pick at the excellent fresh berries that had been sent up much earlier. “Do you remember Brynna?” You ask him after a pause, telling yourself to be brave. “The kitchen maid that I was close friends with? She married a little more than a year ago.”

Frowning slightly, he takes a sip of the wine, grateful to have something cool on his throat. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink either. "Yes, although you stopped visiting with her after you—we discovered that we were soulmates." He murmurs, feeling guilty that you had to push your friend away so that your secret bond with him was not discovered.

“Yes, I did.” It was soon after that that the maester’s daughter met her own soulmate, so your guilt had been quickly assuaged. “But I did not quit her company for the reason you might think.” Telling yourself to trust and to take the leap, you still have trouble finding his eyes. “I feared that you would reject me or be angry if you discovered her in my bed.”

He frowns even more, staring down into his cup and then up at your face, even though you will not look at him. "You—" He starts to question you and then stops, clearing his throat. "I...I see." He doesn't know if he is more confused or relieved that you have some kind of history with someone you shouldn't.

“I did not know that two women could be lovers,” you explain, feeling utterly childish about your ignorance. “To hear my septa or my brothers speak of it…a man is utterly necessary for an encounter to truly be considered lovemaking. But I—I have learned that is not so.”

Raeden takes a large gulp of his drink, his dark eyes finding yours and he pauses for a moment before he asks, "Do you— uh, prefer that?" He asks, reaching for your hand. "Does a man repulse you?"

“No!” Your hand fits into his immediately, grasping his fingers tightly as they lace through your own. “No, of course not, my love. It is only…it is different. Not better or worse, but rather…I enjoyed both. And I was very ashamed to enjoy it as much as I did, because I did not know how very natural it was. And I believe I am starting to understand that finally.” Leaning forward, you press earnest kisses to his knuckles, hoping to have cracked some kind of barrier between you. You had thought it existed so that he would not be disgusted with you, but here he is reaching for your hand. “I do not wish to keep secrets from you any longer, my love.”

"There is something I must confess to you." He croaks out, fingers squeezing yours as his heart pounds in his chest. Sweat starts to create a find sheen on his skin as his nerves starts to get the best of him. "I—I have never spoken of this to—to anyone."

“You can speak to me of anything.” You promise him, your other hand abandoning your wine to hold his tightly.

"You know that I have had lovers." He ventures softly, waiting for you to nod before he continues. It had not been a secret from you, and more acceptable since he was a man. "When I— when I was in training, my father send me to be trained by an old friend. Since he could not publicly claim me."

“That is how you came to the Vale.” You nod, having remembered the stories he had told you of his past. “Yes. I remember.”

He takes a deep breath and downs the rest of his wine. "While I was training, I had a – a friend." He confesses. "Much like your Brynna."

“Would you tell me about her?” It is no matter to you that he had other lovers. You know he has. Perhaps he feels shame or guilt for having loved her? But that does not matter to you in the least.

"His name was Alren." He chokes out. "He was the fourth son of Lord Royce." He explains, unable to look you in the face for fear of your reaction. He has never spoken of this, never dreamed of speaking of this with you.

“Oh.” Tightening your hold on his hand, you see those impregnable puzzle pieces slide into place. “And it was Alren who was your lover?”

"He was." Raeden confesses. "I—it was secret, it had to be. Until—"

“Oh, my love…” When his eyes drop and his shoulders draw in on themselves, you lean down to kiss his knuckles again. “Something happened to him?”

"He— someone discovered his...tastes and Lord Royce was not a man who accepted such things out of his son, fourth or no." His hands curl into fists and he lets out a ragged breath. "His lord father beat him to death in front of every boy there. Demanding the name of his lover. While I watched, helpless to save him." Alren had screamed out, begging him not to come forward. To save himself as he was brutalized by his father. Raeden had been frozen in fear, terrified of suffering the same fate as him. If the legitimate son of a lord could be treated so, what would they do to him?

“Gods in all their heavens…” The story nearly chokes you, wrapping around your throat and pushing a gasp from it and furious tears that anyone should be treated so for who they loved. “What a barbaric display, to have so much hatred for his son. I—” And yet, you can imagine it, having grown up with a mother who wished you dead. “I am sorry that you were afraid to share this part of yourself with me, but please…please know that I love you all the more.”

“I—know it is wrong.” He insists. “Unnatural to have those desires. Especially when I have my soulmate.” He swallows. “I am sorry for hiding it from you, but I will not betray you.” He vows.

“I thought it wrong as well. Unnatural as well.” You shake your head, more at your own self than anything else. “But I think perhaps it is not as sinful as any other love. And that we were misled by people who shared our fears.”

Thinking about that, he brings your hand up to his lips. “You are my love.” He promises you. “That will never change.”

“Never.” That is a promise you can make to him just as easily, but you find his eyes and hold them. “I was upset to see you in the prince’s bed today because I thought you were still angry with me, and might turn me away. It was only fear, my love. Not that I would be angry with you for desiring another.” Perhaps a touch of jealousy had joined the feeling, but you cannot be entirely sure who you were actually jealous of.

"I would never turn you away." He frowns at you, wondering how you could possibly believe something like that. He had been upset that you had been so stubborn last night to think the worst of your husband who had been nothing but generous towards you.

"Fear has a way of making you disbelieve what you know to be true." The words come naturally although they are not your own, and you hang your head. “The prince told me that. And I believe he was entirely correct.”

"He is a surprising man." He cannot help but chuckle in relief. "You have married a good man, my love. You are lucky."

“If you…” Even the idea of breaching this subject with him makes you nervous, but anxiety is far less important than Raeden’s happiness and security. “If it is something that you are interested in exploring again, that is…I know that the prince has expressed interest in bedding you.”

"I—I wouldn't— no, you—" he stammers, eyes widening slightly as you offer him something that he had never expected. He shakes his head. "I could not hurt you like that." He doesn't think that you would want your soulmate to be with someone else.

“It would only hurt me if you turned me away in favour of him.” You shake your head and clasp his hands all the more tightly. “I would never ask you to do something that made you unhappy. But my love, if you wished to take someone else to your bed, all I would ask is that you tell me first?” A soft, almost sheepish smile overtakes your face. “You should be happy, and if I can give you happiness by sharing you…that is something that I have only recently learned is possible.”

"I think that you are more interested in a place in the prince's bed that you wish to admit." He murmurs, looking over at you. "I—say that if you wish it, I want you to also have that opportunity." He sighs. "I know that I am drawn to both your husband and his lover." He confesses, embarrassed by saying those words out loud.

“If you wish for that chance, my love, I cannot see them denying you.” In fact, given some of the glances you have seen Ellaria giving Raeden since you met, and both of their blunt honesty, you are certain they would be thrilled to welcome him into their bed. “For myself…” your shoulders round a little and you cannot help but be a little embarrassed by how well you remember the moment. “I…kissed him. Yesterday. In the garden at the Red Keep. It was impulsive and I was afraid you would be upset with me for…finding myself attracted to him.”

“I would rather you desire your husband than fear the bedding we both know must come.” Despite what has been said, an heir is expected of you and people would spread rumors of you did not provide him with one.

“It does not make me love you less,” you promise him, knowing that that was the fear the foremost of your mind. “Just as I know your own desire does not affect your love for me.”

“Never.” He assures you, leaning down and kissing your hands one at a time. “Are you sure you do not feel any different?” He asks softly, wanting you to make sure. That is his biggest fear.

"Only in that I now wish to spend my time with three people instead of only you." It is a different feeling, to be sure, but not an unpleasant one. "The earliest feelings of attraction are rarely unpleasant, even if they might be different."

"No, I – I meant your feelings about me." He sighs, knowing that while you have your husband, your new title, basically the world at your fingertips – he has nothing. Nothing beyond his place with you.

"I love you. That will never change. No matter our circumstances, the world around us, or even if we were both to marry other people." That inevitability, once terrifying, now only seems as a minor hill to climb. A surmountable barrier. "You are my soulmate, and nothing can ever change that."

He cannot help but pull you on his lap. Needing to have you close as he nudges his nose against yours. "You are mine and I am yours." He promises you softly. "I love you, and I will always love you."

"Always." You promise him, the gentle whisper all it needs to be in the quiet room as you wrap your arms around him.

"So we agree?" He murmurs softly. "We are each perfectly fine with exploring intimacies with your husband and his lover?"

"As odd as it might sound to an outside ear?" And it would, there is no doubt or pretense about that. "I believe – yes. We agree." Pressing a firm, earnest kiss to his lips, you hold him a little tighter with that affirmation. "He asked me to walk with him today, and I asked if we might all spend some amount of time together. Perhaps...the topic can be broached then?"

"If you wish." He murmurs, sliding his hand up your back and holding you close. He closes his eyes and breathes you in, sighing softly. "I love you; I am sorry for our fight."

"I am sorry for it as well, my love." Your forehead against his is grounding, anchoring you to the moment and to the strength of him.

"If you are with your husband, I will try to sleep again." He decides. "Unless his lover needs to have me nearby. I am exhausted." He admits, knowing that he can admit that to you.

"He said that you stood watch all night." A thing which of course would make him exhausted, and you press a kiss to his forehead as well. "Rest well, love. May I wake you when we return from the markets?"

"I would go with you if you wished." He promises you. "You can wake me whenever you need me."

"Rest, my warrior. There are no more battles to fight today." There should not have been any, but the past cannot be changed. "And if you decide to spend time with Ellaria while we are out walking, I hope it is everything you could wish for."

"I am too tired for my cock to stir." He groans, shaking his head and giving a small smile.

Affecting a playful expression of shock and concern, you point to the bed immediately and barely manage to suppress a grin. "Then you must sleep immediately! For as long as you need, ser!"

He chuckles sleepily and nods. "I will." He promises. "I am surprised I woke." He had been sleeping hard when the sound of the door woke him.

"I will let you sleep." With one more kiss, you reluctantly extract yourself from his lap and stand up. He will be able to sprawl out on the bed and enjoy his rest, and you will walk with your husband with a much lighter heart.

******

"I hope her lover has patience since he is sleep deprived." Ellaria hums as her eyes flit towards the door connecting the rooms.

Oberyn nods as he knots the belt around his waist, securing his robes and hanging his dagger from his waist. "You will knock their heads together as if they were naughty children if they argue." He teases, well aware she might do the same to him if pushed hard enough. Now that he has more insight into your nature, he finds himself more patient.

"If I must." Ellaria chuckles, laying back on the bed as she watches him dress. "We had been thrilled to see she was not a child when we met her, but in many ways she has been treated as one. It is a shame."

"Her mother is a bitch who should be beaten." Oberyn grunts, looking into one of the mirrors and examining his beard before pulling out his dagger to scrap a patch of skin smooth. "Jealous of her own daughter."

"Lover, you are preening," she teases with delight. "Huffing and puffing like a great defender while you make yourself handsome for her. It is rather charming."

"Hold your tongue." He narrows his eyes in the mirror playfully before he looks back at his task and carefully drags the extremely sharp blade over his skin. "I am merely making sure that I look confident and collected as I walk the streets of King's Landing."

"With your bride." Ellaria's amusement is obvious, and she all but giggles when the door that connects your chamber to theirs opens to allow you through. "And here is the princess herself." There is no malice in her voice, no jealousy or resentment, only teasing and a good nature. "Our beautiful prince is making himself presentable for you, dear."

Oberyn blows out a raspberry towards his lover and drops his dagger after he finishes the last pass. "My love, you tease me." He grumbles quietly, eyes sliding over to where you are standing. "I gather your talk was successful?" He asks you.

"It went a good deal differently than I had anticipated, but...yes. All is well again." Feeling confident enough to step into the room and over to the pair of them, you are still more than a little nervous about going out and being seen with him. He has, after all, an immense presence and there are always eyes on whomever he is with.

"That is fantastic." He hums, cleaning the blade with a cloth and sliding it back into it is sheath. "As much as I enjoyed the sight of your lover in my bed, it is not a sight I wish friction over." He picks up a bottle of the oil that he uses to sooth is skin and splashes some into his palms to coat the freshly shaved areas.

"It will not be, in future." You can assure him of that, which makes anticipation tingle through you.

His brow arches as he finishes applying the spicy, sweet-smelling oil and reaches for the same cloth the wipe his hands. "That is a curious way with words, princess." He murmurs, his eyes sliding over to his soulmates before back to you.

"It was a curious talk." The coy little smile that curls up in the corner of your mouth is not intentional, but rather naturally playful. You feel so much lighter and freer than you had even an hour ago. "Raeden's story is his own to tell, but...it is safe to assure both of you that your honesty with us about your interest has helped us to be more honest with each other."

"Then it is was a very fruitful conversation, indeed." He hums as Ellaria looks very pleased with the turn of events. "Honesty is what is needed in lasting love and passion."

"I could not agree more." It is a fact, indeed, which you are grateful for in this moment. "Which is why I told him about Brynna."

"Brynna?" Ellaria's head tilts curiously as she looks between you and your husband. Oberyn had not told her so she surmises that it must have been something personal. "What a lovely name."

As the prince already knows the tale, you step closer to the bed where Ellaria is reclining and sit down on the edge of the mattress beside her. "She was...it has been explained to me that she was my first lover. I did not, at the time, understand what it truly meant."

Ellaria's smile blooms slowly, taking over her face until pure delight is etched in her features. "So you do know what a woman's touch is like." She hums, very pleased with your newly told tale.

When you nod it is a sheepish thing, and you fluster under how pleased she seems to be. "And I know now that the shame I felt at my time with her is not necessary." Although it may take time to shake the spiderwebs of guilt from your heart, you have certainly taken a large first step today.

Straightening, Ellaria leans into you and cups your cheeks with both of her hands. "Good." She smiles at you softly. "There should never be any shame in love. No matter the form it takes."

"I will do my best to remember it." She is intoxicatingly close, and you know that shyness reads easily across your features, but it is not for embarrassment or nerves. It is only the promise of things to come.

"See that you do." She urges you with a smile. She leans in and softly presses another feather light kiss to your lips for a brief moment before she pulls back.

The prince has been watching you, you realize when you open your eyes again, and you fluster completely, all over again. "I will do my best to return him to you is as good spirits as he is now," you promise Ellaria, finding yourself reluctant to slip away from her but at the same time eager to spend time with your husband. It is an odd feeling, but not an unwelcome one.

Oberyn rolls his eyes but he strides over to the two of you so he can kiss his lover and collect you. “I am always in good spirits around a beautiful woman.” He protests before kissing his lover soundly. “Where is your paramour, princess?”

"Sleeping, my lord." Raeden had been asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, and you hope he rests well after a whole night standing guard. "I thought to wake him when we return."

“Good.” He nods his head and looks over to his lover. “Ellaria will be happy to lounge here and rest as well.” He smirks. “She was up late doing other things.”

"Enjoy yourselves." Ellaria lays back in the luxurious blankets and yawns dramatically, flashing you both a smile even as she waves you off. "And make him buy you something beautiful, darling. He gives wonderful gifts."

“I owe you something as well.” He smirks at his lover and offers you his arm. “Shall the Prince and Princess of Dorne be seen visiting the merchants and looking wildly happy?”

"I think they shall." It gives you such a giddy feeling to take his arm this time, smiling more than you have in a month and feeling like quite the gem although there is nothing at all different about you this afternoon than there has been any other day. The only difference is this man, and the fact that you are allowing yourself to enjoy the affect he has on you.

______

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My Masterlist!

[wineauntharry]

I’m in need of anything that contains jealous, protective and possessive Joe!!! If you’re able to write something like this 💛

Ofc stink! I like this alot and I hope its what you were asking for let me know if you want something else! love ya bunches! (sorry its short)

Tw: possessive and jealous joe/ insinuation of smut??? Nothing to cray cray

send requests here :)

-kitt

—

Mine J.B.

“ I just wanna make sure I’m the only guy you’re taking home tonight.”

Joe whispered, slurring and wreaking of tequila. But who could blame him? He had just won the AFC North Championship, and who would I be to not let him celebrate.

“Joe don’t start.”

We had only been at this club for an hour and he was plastered. I was sitting on his lap playing with the rips in his jeans when he started to do the drunk rambling moment he would have anytime he thought I looked a little too good.

“Can’t help it baby. You just look so good. Still can’t believe you chose me.”

“All of these hoes and I still chose you huh Joe.”

He let out a soft giggle followed by a stop-fucking-playin-with-me smirk and I knew I had started to press his buttons. There’s no way Joe didn’t notice every guy's neck turn when we walked in. They weren’t looking at the tall football player, they were looking at the girl on his arm, and he knew that.

After sitting in our section and sipping on our drinks, we made our way out onto the dance floor. Joe and I did our usual dance where he stood behind me and I grinded on him to the beat of whatever was playing. Nothing too crazy. I could feel Joe start to grow behind me and as he went to whisper something to me we were interrupted.

“This your man? Or is he your bitch because I’m trynna talk to you for real. You too fine to be with a white boy like that.”

Before I could even respond to the random drunk guy leaning a little too close and talking a little too loud, Joe already had a response.

“Bro you don’t see her with me right now? This my girl, stop playing. We locked in, she not going anywhere.”

The guy just walked away, not even trying to argue anymore, but Joe wasn’t finished, I could feel him tense up as he stopped dancing. It was like he somehow sobered up and wasn’t about to just let that guy's advance slide.

Joe began to walk in the direction of the guy, taking big strides, determined. Not gonna lie, Joe was always so hot when he was angry, But somebody had to keep him out of trouble, so I followed and reached for his arm.

“Joe stop!” I tried to yell but Joe had blinders on and nothing was gonna come between him and sticking up for what’s his.

Joe got the guy's attention and started to raise his voice, catching the attention of other people in the club.

“Don’t ever try some shit like that again. Swear to God, I don’t play about what’s  mine. I promise you don’t want a problem bro. Be careful. I don’t wanna come outta character.” Joe spit out.

 “You got it big bro, chill out.” The guy replied.

I guess at this point Joe remembered where we were and could feel me tugging at his arm. He turned around and we made our way back to our section, but I couldn’t just let that go.

“Joe what the fuck was that? I know you’re fucked up right now but be serious.” I said.

“You just do something to me Y/N. Can’t help it.” He replied with a smirk.

“I know but-” I was interrupted with Joe smashing his lips on mine. He was so intoxicating. I swear I turn into putty anytime he kisses me like this. It wasn’t a regular kiss. But almost a you’re mine and I don’t care who sees kiss.

Once we separate I continue my thought “Joe you gotta keep it together, that’s what happens when you go out with someone this fine, not my fault.” I said with a little giggle following it.

Joe smiled and said “I can’t help but be possessive over you. You belong to me and nothing will ever change that, I don’t care what I have to do. I’d kill for you Y/N.”

Joe has always been the jealous type, but I am too so it balances us out, just makes us that much closer.

“I’m yours Joe. In this world, it's just us.” I reassured him and squeezed his hand to let him know I was serious.

“Let’s get out of here baby, I wanna show you how much to me.” He said.

I knew what that meant. He only said that when he really meant it, it was special to him.

I was enjoying my time out of the house but I knew I would enjoy whatever he was going to do to me at home more. I just smiled and nodded my head to let him know to lead the way. 

I love this boy so much and I know he loves me just the same. Its only a plus that Joe fucks best when he’s jealous or in love, and tonight, he was both.

—-

I hope yall like this omg I like it!!! Jealous joe makes me think some thots imma keep it real i need him so bad lorddddd. 

ALSO THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY HARRY ONE SHOT!! (did yall peep the harry reference hehe)

Also there may or may not be a second part to this that’s just smut ;) let me know if yall want it because i def will not write it if there’s something else you want!

all the love- kitt

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 02 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 5,4k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and I wondered if he too would be feeling the happiness that sang in my chest at that moment, like a little miracle had just unfolded before us. It was hard to find another word to describe it. He’d found me. After so many years, he’d found me.

✦ on this chapter: james hetfield x female!oc, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, grief, smut mentioned/implied

✧ Once you told me, "Look for the North Star, then you'll see" / Heavenly, I hear / Found my way to the beach / There were waves over me / I was lost at sea 'til you found me / 'til you found me ✧

May 20, 1984

Settling into the new home my parents had bought for me turned out to be easier than I’d expected, especially since my friends had moved in with me; we all shared the same space and, slowly but surely, it was shaping up to be our own little slice of paradise, buzzing with music, chatter, and laughter as we got everything sorted.

But everything felt eerily still when I arrived home on that Sunday afternoon. I opened the front door, spotting a few moving boxes still hanging out in the living room. I glanced around, puzzled, eyeing the empty space and wondering where the gang had vanished to. That's when I caught the distant murmur of voices drifting from the kitchen.

"You can't just go after him, James. It's gonna wreck our reputation, have you even thought about that?" Lars' voice carried down the hallway, tinged with irritation.

"You think I give a damn about our reputation when he's out there dissing my girl?" James shot back, his voice tinged with anger. I arched an eyebrow, definitely intrigued now as I made my way closer. I reached the kitchen door to find Lars leaning against the sink, his brow furrowed, while James, so much taller, paced back and forth, his fists clenched. "I couldn't care less. Let him yap about us all he wants, but lay off her. I'm gonna beat the crap out of him, then maybe he'll learn to keep his trap shut."

"Hey, guys," I interjected, and James halted his pacing immediately, both him and Lars shooting me a startled look, like they'd just seen a ghost. A knot twisted in my gut as I realized they were probably talking about something they didn't want me to know about. "What's the deal?"

"Nore!" Lars chirped, a bit too brightly, as he hastily snatched something off the table. I narrowed my eyes, noting it was a cassette tape he was awkwardly trying to stuff into his pocket. "Oh, it's, uh, nothing important!"

"What's that?" I inquired, nodding toward the cassette in his grasp. James shot him a pointed glare, and Lars swallowed hard.

"It's, um, nothing, really! Just..." He stumbled over his words as I closed the gap between us, grabbing his arm and snatching the tape from his grip. "Hey!"

"If it's really nothing, then you won't mind me taking a look, right?" I challenged. James shot me a worried look before striding over towards me.

"Nore, hand it over," he demanded, his tone grave, his brow furrowed. I stared at him, torn between defiance and confusion.

"No," I shot back, turning on my heel and bolting up the stairs.

"Nore!" James called out, chasing after me, but I was already too far ahead. I reached our shared room and slammed the door shut, locking it behind me. James pounded on the door, growing increasingly frustrated. "Nore! Come on, give it back!"

"Unless you've got another girlfriend, this has gotta be about me, right?" I challenged, and he grunted, kicking the door in frustration. "You’re gonna start keeping secrets from me now?"

"You don't get it. It's for your own good. Just let me in!"

I brushed off his demand, which only earned me a frustrated growl from him. Fixing my gaze on the tape in my hand, my heart skipped a beat when I spotted the band name: Megadeth. There wasn't much else on the tape besides handwritten song titles on the label. I'd been keeping tabs on the Californian metal scene enough to know this wasn't just any old tape — it was a demo. I couldn't help but wonder how Lars and James got their hands on it, and what the hell it had to do with me.

"Come on, Nore!" James's pounding on the door grew more urgent as the music began to play, the cassette inserted into the tape deck in our room. "You don't wanna hear this. Trust me!"

I stayed silent, my heart doing some churning uncomfortably in my chest as I recognized Dave's voice emanating from the speakers. I blinked in surprise; I remembered he was scouting for a vocalist for the band back when we were together, but I had no clue he'd decided to take on the role himself. Somehow, that made it all worse; I wasn't prepared to hear his voice. I wasn't ready for the flood of emotions that hearing him but not being able to talk to him, see him, or touch him brought crashing over me. I wasn't ready for the fury radiating from his voice, blazing like a wildfire, channeling all his pain into his music. And then, it hit me what he was singing about.

My only love, something I've never felt / Now you've gone to heaven and I'll burn in hell / I loved you to death!

Oh. Was that why James was so adamant about me not hearing the tape? Could that song possibly be...?

And now I'm down below / And what do I see? / You didn't go to heaven / You’re down in hell with me / And now you’re coming back / “baby take me please!” / I really think I would, if you weren't such a sleaze / I loved you once before, you kept me on a string / I'd rather go without than take what you would bring / I loved you to death!

I chewed on my lip, my stomach twisting as the song came to its end, struggling to make sense of everything I'd just heard. Suddenly, it all clicked. I understood why James had tried to shield me from it; Dave's lyrics were harsh, dripping with anger and bitterness, a far cry from the sweet and caring Dave I once knew. For a fleeting moment, I tried to convince myself it couldn't be about me — but who else could it possibly be about?

For months, I'd been wondering what he'd say if I ever found him. Would he listen? Would he let me explain? And for months, I'd been living with this fear — that he'd hate me, that he wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore. But I'd always held onto hope; hope that I could make things right, that I could clear things up somehow. Yet, that song... It crushed whatever hope I had left.

It hurt me more than I could say.

I stood up and swung open the bedroom door, finding James right there, his blue eyes filled with concern. I threw myself into his arms, trying to hold back the tears. He sighed and hugged me back.

"I warned you not to listen," he grumbled.

"And you were just gonna keep this from me forever?" I asked, my voice shaky.

"If it meant not hurting you, then yeah."

"James, I deserved to know," I said, pulling back to look at him. He reached up and wiped away a tear, his touch gentle on my cheek.

"You're right. I'm sorry," he said softly, planting a light kiss on my forehead.

"Where'd you snag this tape, anyway?"

"Our producer gave it to Lars. Said Dave's using that Mechanix song we had on our album as The Four Horsemen..."

"Those were his songs, James. He's got every right to do so."

"Why do you still stick up for him, even after all this?" he frowned, a hint of annoyance in his voice, then sighed. "Sure, he can use his fucking songs. But he doesn't get to pen this garbage about you."

I shook my head with a sigh.

"It's so not fair," I said, trying to push down the shake in my voice. "He jumped to thinking I'd just cheat on him, replace him outta nowhere. Didn't even give me a chance to explain; just up and left. And I..." James pulled me into another hug as my voice hitched, making it tough to keep talking. "I still miss him. And I wish..."

"Nore..." James murmured, squeezing me tight, and I sighed, shutting my eyes. "You miss him that much? Aren’t you happy with me?"

"Course I'm happy with you," I replied, my voice muffled against him, hugging him close and soaking in the comfort of his scent as I buried my face into his chest.

"Then stay with me ," he said, his voice gravelly, stroking my hair tenderly. "I'm here. And I would never hurt you like that. Maybe it's time to... let this go. I can make you happy, Nore. Promise."

"You already make me happy," I murmured, sniffing softly and pulling away from his embrace, wiping away the tears that insisted on falling. James cupped my face in his hands, giving me a gentle, affectionate kiss on my lips.

I loved James. That certainty had grown in my chest over the past few months until it became unbearable, impossible to ignore. But could I allow myself to forget Dave like that? Could I allow myself to move on and leave behind a love that had changed my life? Even if he hated me, my heart still beat for him. Could I allow myself to let go of that feeling? 

Could I?

September 5, 1986

Ever since James and I’d started dating, James had always been warm. Warm and cozy, like a lit fireplace on a winter night, enough for me to always want to be around — always there, always comforting. As we lay together, both totally spent after spending most of the night pleasuring each other, he started planting little, lazy kisses on my neck, his hand resting flat on my belly. His blond locks tickled my cheek, his breath warm against my bare skin. 

"I feel like something's off with me," I mumbled, and he stopped kissing me, his lips lingering against my neck.

"I’ll stop if you want me to," he whispered, his arms enveloping me, drawing me snug against his bare skin. James had this knack for drawing me in tighter whenever I hinted at pulling away. He just couldn't resist keeping me close, and honestly, I didn't mind one bit. "Just say the word if you need me to back off," he murmured softly.

"No, it's not that," I replied, turning to face him with a sigh. His blue eyes locked onto mine, curious. I let out another soft sigh, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. He responded instantly, pulling me closer, his grip firm.

"What's on your mind then?" he asked, his lips trailing from mine to my neck once more. I sighed again, closing my eyes, my fingers tangling in his hair as heat pooled between my legs.

"I don't want you guys to leave," I admitted, and he paused his kisses, pulling back to meet my gaze. I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks as I looked away. "I know it's part of your job. I know you've been on countless tours, and this one won't be any different. But... I just wish you'd stay, just this once."

James gave a nod, pulling me into a tight hug and planting a gentle kiss on my temple. The whirlwind of tours and gigs wasn't a walk in the park for either of us. Sure, it had its perks, but the constant movement, the jam-packed schedule that I struggled to keep pace with, and the long stretches of time apart definitely took their toll on our relationship. Especially now that the band was hitting new heights of success; I wanted to be there for them every step of the way, but reality dictated otherwise with my own commitments.

It hadn't been such a big deal in the past; after over two years as James's girlfriend and spending loads of time with Cliff and the boys, I was used to the drill. But this time, there was this gnawing feeling in my chest, like something wasn't quite right. It wasn't exactly that I wanted them to stay or that I wanted to tag along but couldn't; it was more like I just didn't want them to leave. I didn't want them out there while I was feeling this jittery, like something was about to go south any second.

"I'm probably being a bit selfish," I admitted, meeting James' eyes.

"Nah, not at all," he countered, running his fingers through my hair and flashing me a grin, clearly trying to lift my spirits. "I'll make it up to you, promise. I'll bring back souvenirs from everywhere we hit. What do you say? We'll be back before you know it, Nore. Trust me."

I gave a nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. There was no point in dumping all my worries on James; things would work out, somehow. I nestled closer to him, giving him a hug before planting a soft kiss on his jawline.

"Meanwhile..." he started, his lips meeting mine as he settled over me. I let out a soft chuckle, looping my arms around his neck; he leaned back, giving me a smile tinged with mischief, his hands trailing up my thighs in a way that sent shivers down my spine, anticipation building within me. "I think we should make the most of my being here while we still can. What do you say?"

"Hmm... sounds like a plan," I answered, and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss me once more.

March 13, 1987

Backstage used to be my sanctuary, but not anymore.

The buzz, the drinks, the laughter, the pounding music — those were the things that used to make me feel alive. Completely in the moment. But ever since Cliff had left us, the whole scene had just become another stress trigger. It was cruel, how I would still catch myself hoping to spot him any minute, beer in hand or puffing on a cig before hitting the stage, tuning his bass with that grin of his like he was born to rock out. Then reality would hit me seconds later, reminding me that I would never see him again.

That he was gone.

That night’s gig marked my first outing since the accident. I only agreed to go 'cause I knew James was missing me like crazy, especially after everything went down. It stung how Cliff's death had torn us apart, making it damn near impossible for us to even be in the same room despite still loving each other; it was all just too raw, too painful to wrap our heads around.

But I stuck it out for the whole show, even though my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice seeing the band up there with a different lineup, knowing it shouldn't be that way. Jason, the new bassist, was actually pretty damn good; I knew my aunt and uncle had loved him, and knowing he had their stamp of approval made things a bit easier to swallow. I didn't know him too well yet, but he came off as friendly and laid-back. Plus, his passion for the band and music had me smiling, thinking about how Cliff would've dug having someone with that same fire taking his spot.

Once the show wrapped, I didn't stick around for the inevitable after-party. While James and the guys were all caught up sorting out post-gig stuff, I slipped out the back, lighting up a smoke with a sigh. A persistent headache throbbed away, making me regret coming in the first place.

"Miss you, you dumbass," I muttered to myself, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill over.

If I'd known that accident was coming, I would've done anything to stop Cliff from stepping foot on that bus. I would've volunteered to take his spot, even crawled into the bed he was in when it all went down. I would've traded places with him in a heartbeat, and I would've gone to my grave with a smile on my face. 'Cause living in a world without him was a nightmare worse than anything I'd ever imagined.

And now, all I could do was wish I would wake up back in our cozy home, catching a whiff of the coffee he used to brew up and hearing his gentle chuckle as he teased Leanne about tying the knot some day, all in that playful tone that barely masked his real longing — to live . To start a family, maybe have some kids, buy a house for his folks, and grow old doing what he loved, soaking up the rewards of his talent.

But none of that was in the cards anymore.

And I had remained, an empty, unrecognizable shell of the lively girl I used to be. I didn't know a life without Cliff — he had been my rock since forever. He'd been there since day one — I mean, literally, he was around before I was even born. We grew up side by side, like two peas in a pod, and now what was left of me was rotten, alone, and meaningless.

What was I without him, if he was such a huge part of who I was?

How many more losses in my life would I have to take?

Suddenly, I remembered Dave. The first boy I'd ever really loved, that kind of love that shakes you to your core. Losing him hurt like hell, no doubt about it. But compared to losing Cliff, it was like small fry. Still, Dave was the first real loss I’d ever faced. When all my efforts to track him down hit dead ends, I had to learn to live with the hole he left behind. After all these years, I still thought about him from time to time, but it didn't sting as bad as it used to.

I couldn't help but wonder if the ache in my heart from Cliff's absence would ever dull down like it had with Dave. Or if I'd have to face an even bigger blow, something that'd make this pain seem like child's play in comparison. 

After roaming the city streets for hours, I finally headed back to the hotel. When I got to the floor where the band was crashing, I bumped into Jason, standing by his room’s door.

"Hey, Nore," he said, his voice sounding rough, and I gave him a puzzled look. Was he crying?

"Hey, Jason. You all good?"

"I-I'm good," he mumbled, voice low, avoiding eye contact as he sniffled and wiped his face with his hand. Yeah, definitely not okay.

"You're not out there with the guys. What's up?" I asked, and he glanced up, his brown eyes a bit bloodshot, cheeks flushed.

"It's just... It's been kinda rough trying to fit in with the band. Especially with all these pranks they pull..." he trailed off.

"Pranks? What do you mean?" I frowned.

"Oh, it's nothing!" he rushed to say. "You know, just dumb stuff. It's just that it always catches me off guard, like now... I went back to the room to grab a jacket and found they'd messed it all… Up…" He slowly stopped talking as I brushed past him, turning the doorknob of his room and pushing the door open.

I froze in my tracks, utterly stunned by the sight before me. Jason's room was a complete disaster zone — suitcases torn open, clothes strewn all over, mattress gone, and beddings tangled up in the ceiling fan. Furniture flipped over like a hurricane had blown through. I just stood there, dumbfounded. Whoever did this wasn't messing around — it was straight-up hostility, so blatant it snapped me out of my own sadness and fired me up with anger.

"Jason, who did this?" I spun around to face him, my expression blazing, and he took a step back, clearly rattled.

"Nore, it's no big deal, really..." he started, but I cut him off.

"Whoever trashed your room needs to answer for it. This is not okay! I'm going straight to James; he'll sort this out..."

"No, please," he pleaded, cutting me off. "Please, that'll only make things worse! Don't talk to them, I'm begging you…"

I gawked at him, trying to wrap my head around what I was seeing, the pieces slowly fitting together in a puzzle that made no sense. 

"Jason," I began cautiously, "did James and the guys pull this stunt on you?"

He stayed silent, which I interpreted as a confirmation. My gut twisted in discomfort. What were they thinking? That wasn't our style. Sure, we'd get a bit wild sometimes, drink too much, goof around — but deliberately messing with someone? It just didn't add up.

Just then, the elevator chimed, and out stumbled a clearly wasted James, grinning when he spotted Jason.

"Hey, Newkid!" he slurred, stumbling over his words as he came over and slung an arm around Jason's shoulders, who shot him a nervous grin. "Check out the new decor in your room, dude! Pretty rad, huh?" He burst into laughter.

"James, what the hell is this?" I demanded, my voice shaky. He glanced up, looking surprised to see me there.

"Hey, babe. You dipped out, what's the deal?" he asked, dropping his arm from Jason's shoulders and stepping toward me. I folded my arms, taking a step back. He furrowed his brow, confused. "What's eating at you?"

"You tell me. What's the deal with this mess?" I gestured to the chaos in Jason's room. James just grinned, shaking his head.

"Princess, it was just a prank... Come on," he said, reaching for my hand, but I shrugged him off, stomping heavily toward our room. "Hey, hold up... Baby!" James called after me, trailing behind.

Ignoring him, I swung open the door and grabbed my bag, hastily scooping up the scattered clothes and belongings. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall — not now.

"Nore, what the fuck are you doing?" James rushed into the room, grabbing my arm. I shook him off, backing away, glaring at him through teary eyes, my breaths coming in uneven gasps. "Babe, what's going on?"

"How can you even ask? What, you think it's funny to be some kind of bully now?" I demanded, my voice quivering. James shook his head, looking utterly baffled by my reaction.

"Nore, chill out! It was just a prank..."

"What kind of prank is this? This isn't us, James. Why are you guys messing with him?" I snapped, continuing to pack up my stuff. "Cliff would never stand for this."

James took a step back, looking like I'd slapped him. His brow furrowed, jaw clenched.

"And how would you know?" he shot back, and I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"You think you knew him better than I did, James? Seriously?"

"Nore, it was just a joke..."

"A joke ? Really?" I shouted, tears finally breaking free. "I can't deal with this, James. What's gotten into you? He's not to blame for what happened to Cliff!"

"I get it. Nore, just try to calm down," he said, coming closer and taking hold of my wrists, locking eyes with me. "Take a deep breath, okay?"

"James, this isn't fair," I choked out through sobs. "Can't you see? We've been falling apart since he left. You're angry, and you're bitter, and you're mean , and sometimes I don't even recognize you anymore, and I hate it! And I feel like nothing — I don't feel like me anymore without him. You don't need me like this."

"I do need you."

"I'm fucking broken, James."

"No, you're not!"

"I am !" I burst out, my voice cracking. "You deserve someone who won't lose it over every little thing like this, James. You deserve better than me. I'm not good for you anymore. I'm not good for anyone, for anything."

"So what's the fucking deal?" he asked, his voice shaky, desperate, his blue eyes brimming with pain. "You’re breaking up with me now?"

I didn't say anything, just locked eyes with him, feeling my heart twist painfully as I realized something had broken right then and there. I loved James, but how could I love anyone fully when my pain consumed me like this, leaving little space for anything else? How could I let myself be loved when his anger kept driving us further apart, drowning out our love in all the noise?

I let out a heavy sigh, my breath trembling, and released his hands from mine.

"I'm heading back home. I'll pack up and catch the next flight..." I mumbled.

"Nore, don't do this," James pleaded, reaching for my hands again, but I pulled away.

"I can't, James. I'm sorry. Just... Please, let me go," I sobbed, burying my face in my hands as I sank onto the bed.

Not too long ago, James would've never left me like this. He would've been there, comforting me, holding me tight and never letting go. But things weren't like they used to be, and the world didn't work the way it should anymore.

So, he just walked away, leaving me alone with my pain.

Over the next few years, James and I attempted to patch things up time and time again — but it was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. We just couldn't get back to where we were before. Eventually, we drifted apart and started seeing other people, searching for happiness in different eyes, different embraces, different kisses.

But it was useless.

The ache in my chest lingered, a constant reminder of the emptiness that echoed in both of us. And no matter how hard we tried to keep our distance, we always found our way back to each other. We never went back to using those labels — boyfriend, girlfriend — but we couldn't deny the pull between us. I always found myself drawn back to James, and he always found his way back to me.

Eventually, I got used to that kind of love, a mix of joy and sorrow that felt like the only steady thing in a crazy world, a way to bury my own unhappiness. Over the years, me and the guys stayed tight, because what other choice did we have? They were my family, and I was theirs.

I tried to tell myself that maybe I'd never feel that same spark of life again, but hey, at least I wasn't totally miserable. Even though I'd lost a lot and sadness seemed to follow me like a shadow, I still had some good things left — maybe with time, I could figure out how to move forward again. Maybe this was as good as it got.

I almost bought into it.

Until Dave found me.

February 18, 1992

In the end, it was him who found me.

After all the failed attempts, all the heartache, all the rage, all the emptiness I'd been carrying around for years without him, it all came crashing down in that moment when our eyes locked. Time seemed to stand still, his hand on my shoulder sending a jolt through my body, making my heart lose any sense of rhythm.

"Dave?" I whispered, and the sound of my own voice seemed to stir something in his eyes, an old and familiar pain, but also hunger, happiness, and ecstasy.

It was really him.

It was really, really him.

"Hey," he said, and the normalcy of his answer made me chuckle. He grinned at my laughter, that old, beautiful smile, and my heart seemed to melt into pure warmth and affection.

How could I have lived so long without him?

"Hey," I replied, a smile stubbornly appearing on my face. " What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Junior's dating that Music Now anchor; she hooked us up with some tickets. David, David Ellefson," he clarified, noticing my confusion. "I ended up calling him that. Can't have two Daves in the band, and I called dibs first, so..." He trailed off, a small grin playing on his lips that I couldn't help but mirror. "Wanna grab a table? You were getting some food, right? We can catch up for a bit..."

"Sure thing," I nodded eagerly. We snagged an empty table and settled in. I poked at my food, but my appetite took a backseat with him sitting across from me. Dave seemed both different and the same, all at once. He was still as good-looking as ever, with his ginger hair cascading over his shoulders, warm hazel eyes, and that familiar crooked smile that always got me.

"So, what brings you here?" he asked.

"Oh, I work here," I answered, grinning when he raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

"Really? What do you do?"

"I act. Just landed my first lead role in a TV series."

"So you ended up in the arts, huh?" he remarked. "I remember you were tossing around the idea of studying something like that back when... Well, back when we were a thing."

I blinked, feeling the flush rise to my cheeks. I was so thrilled to see him again that, for a moment, I almost forgot how our last encounter had been a train wreck for both of us. How the end of our relationship had left us both hurting and confused. How so many misunderstandings had ruined our love beyond repair. 

"Dave," I began, my voice faltering with nerves. "I know it's been forever... But there's so much I want to say. So much I need to explain. I—" I trailed off as he reached for my hand, his grasp enveloping mine, so much larger and warmer, sending my heart racing.

"No worries," he answered, his voice gentle as he kept his gaze locked on mine. "We can talk. I reckon doing it here might be a bit tough, huh? How about we pick a day just for that?"

The idea of meeting up again brought a wave of relief to my face. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and I wondered if he too would be feeling the happiness that sang in my chest at that moment, like a little miracle had just unfolded before us. It was hard to find another word to describe it.

He’d found me.

After so many years, he’d found me.

We chatted away for the rest of the party, mostly about work stuff. Everything felt oddly familiar yet different at the same time, and we kind of danced around the real thing: all the emotions we'd been through during our time apart, the fights and secrets that tore us apart when we still cared about each other, and whether we still felt the same way. 'Cause, honestly, I could barely look at him without feeling my whole body fill with a wild happiness, feeling alive like I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

As the party wound down, we lingered by the entrance, chatting quietly while Charlie made the rounds saying her goodbyes. We seized the moment to swap phone numbers, sharing hopeful smiles and whispered words. The night air was chilly, sending shivers down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the cold.

"Feeling cold?" Dave asked, already slipping off his blazer and draping it over my shoulders before I could respond. I looked up at him, feeling my cheeks flush, and he grinned. "You can hang onto that. Gives us a good excuse to make sure we see each other again."

The ride home flew by in a blur; I hardly paid attention to Charlotte's excited chatter about the party. Instead, I clung to Dave's coat, feeling its warmth seep into me. His scent lingered in the fabric, intoxicatingly close, like it could drive me crazy.

I must’ve been dreaming, right?

It felt like I was living in a dream. Running into him after all these years, completely by chance, seemed too good to be true. For so long, I'd convinced myself that happiness and hope were out of reach. Turns out, I was dead wrong. I had no clue what the future held — no idea what would come of this unexpected reunion. But the chance to make things right, to clear up the misunderstandings of the past, even just a little bit, felt like a gift too good to pass up.

All I could do that surprising night was hope it wouldn't all vanish by morning. Hope his voice would be there when I called the next day, because I could hardly wait to see him again.

That night, I didn't have any nightmares.

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[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Seven

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Oh my goodness, an early update from me?? How crazy!  I never update early the world must be ending. I know it's only like a day, but still, it's a day early! For someone reason, it was super easy to write. I don't know what that says about me. xD I want to thank y'all sooooo much for constantly supporting me. When I first started this fic, I honestly thought nobody would read it and that those who did would hate bomb me. Everyone who has commented has been super nice to me, and I honestly can't thank you enough for it. I do want to warn you, though, that there's going to be a chapter in the distant future where were discuss Aegon's not-so-consensual activities. That's all I'm going to say about that. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a steamy one toward the end. ;)

Chapter Warnings: Flash Back, Somnophilia

Prince Daemon opened the door to Madam's brothel like a dark cloud, slowly traveling with the threat of a storm, Dark Sister tapping the frame. Rage was his presence as he entered, though his outward appearance seemed as if he was unbothered. He was on a mission, and he had only one question.

"Where is she?" He asked the first woman he saw, a client on her arm. She smiled at him sweetly.

"Give me one moment Ser, so I can escort this handsome patron out, and I will be right with you." She buttered the man up, her words a purr in his ear as she stroked his cheek.

Daemon rolled his eyes, taking three long strides to the girl and grabbing her by the arm. "You will listen to me and listen well. Forget this fool." She whimpered, letting go of the man's arm as she went to shield her face.

"I am Prince Daemon Targaryen, the man who created the very Gold Cloaks that will burn this establishment to the ground should I snap my fingers." She nodded, eyes teary and lips quivering. The girl was confused and caught unaware by the Prince's presence. He had not been here in quite some time, ever the loyal husband to Princess Rhaenyra. 

"Where is Madam?" He seethed through gritted teeth at her prolonged silence. The whore took a shaking breath, hesitating momentarily as she glanced at Dark Sister, deciding the truth would be better than Valyrian steel through her stomach. 

She leads Daemon to a back room, hidden and out of the way so no simple-minded customers could mistakenly enter. A small fire was lit, and a cast iron cauldron hung over it as Madam stood hunched, her shoulders shaking.

"Madam," the girl spoke softly, and she straightened her posture, wiping at her face as she turned to scold the worker, but stopped short, seeing a former star patron.

"Prince Daemon," she curtsied, sniffling to clear her nose, "to what do I owe the pleasure?" Madam knew she was playing a dangerous game.

"You know exactly why I am here," he replied firmly. Madam tilted her head at her worker, silently telling her working girl to leave.

"I am not sure I do. You know better than anyone that there is no need to come directly to me in order to schedule a session," she said dismissively. 

Of course, Madam knew precisely why he was here. It was the exact reason why she was crying.

"Do not play dumb, Babette. Where is Elaina?" He asked, losing patience.

"I already told you this many years ago when you first asked. My answer has not changed. She went back home to the North." Daemon scoffed, rolling his eyes again as he stepped closer.

"I may have believed that lie once, but not anymore. She has no ties to her family." Madam sighed, shaking her head and raising her arms as if talking to a belligerent child.

"I am not sure what you want me to say, Your Grace. That was all the explanation she gave me before disappearing."

Daemon growled, charging at the poor woman and pushing her against the fireplace by her neck. Madam could not react, nearly falling into the simmering stew pot as she grappled for purchase.

"Stop protecting her, Babette; I have no intention to harm. I need answers," he spat.

"I have none to give," she relented, ever the strong woman from years prior. 

"Stop lying to me!" He yelled, shoving her into the hearth, her head smacking the stone. "Where is Elaina? Where is my child?"

Madam was a force to be reckoned with herself, but when put against the Rogue Prince, the man crowned King of the Step Stones, she had no choice but to yield. Her years of hardening were not meant to withstand the flames of a dragon.

"Elaina is dead, thanks to the babe you put in her belly, and that child-- my child," Daemon's grip loosened, a lump beginning to form in his throat, "that I have raised into a beautiful young woman has been taken by your eldest nephew for reasons unknown to me,"

Sadness replaced his rage, a dark, depressing feeling shadowing in the pit of his stomach. 

Yet another woman in his life has died from childbirth—his mother, sister-in-law, wife, and now a former mistress. Did the cycle of maternal loss ever end? The water wheel that was the Targaryen's customs was spun by endless blood and loss. Daemon's face was stone, though his heart was not. A twitch of his lip indicated he was upset by the news of Elaina's death.

Finally, he stepped away from Madam. Was he destined to lose every woman he had cared for on the birthing bed? What would become of Rhaenyra? She had just given birth to Joffrey not nearly two years ago, and she was already filled with the starts of another. She had been lucky, but the Gods' favor only lasted so long. What would become of you once put in that same spot?

"She is with Aegon, yes?" He questioned Babette, sniffing once as he rested his hand on Dark Sister. She nodded, cradling her wounded head, blood painting her fingers. "The Gods only know what that drunkard has done to her," Daemon said as he swiftly left the brothel, a new mission on his mind.

Lyra ducked into an alcove. Her grey cloak covered most of her recognizable face, the shadows of the secret entrance aiding her efforts. The layout of the many secret passages into the Red Keep was slowly becoming etched in her memory. She needed to know them like the back of her hand.

Her little apple, she thought somberly, her heart aching in the palms of gluttonous high-borns. Left to be eaten until there is nothing.

Madam had sheltered you too much from the reality of the world. You were too kind to bare the Targaryen name, too innocent to become a part of their "holier than thou" culture. You were not stupid, Lyra knew that, but your ignorance was simply due to a purposeful lack of knowledge on Madam's part. Unlike most girls your age, you knew about sex, the pleasures a man could receive, but you still had the inexperience as them, and without some trustworthy to guide you... there was no telling what path you might follow.

Lyra stopped at an almost invisible door, the wood untreated and dark within the shadows. She used her knuckles to knock a rhythm into the door, short and legato sounding. She waited, her anxiety boiling inside her stomach as she bounced on her feet. The passing time seemed too long. By now, someone would've opened the door.

"Lyra, you must leave. The castle is in a tizzy with the arrival of-"

Lyra didn't wait for the servant dressed in red to finish, shoving her way into the bustling kitchen of the Red Keep.

"Lyra, I cannot help you right now," Sara chased, tugging her friend's arm. "They are preparing a feast for the royal family!"

Lyra ignored her, running to another hidden servant's passage, her leather shoes tapping on the worn stone floors.

"Where is she," Lyra asked, sprinting up multiple steps. "I must see her. I need to tell her to wait." Sara tripped up the stairs, catching her skirt as Lyra gained more distance.

"If you would take a moment, Lyra, I could tell you," she huffed, catching up to her old friend at the top of the passage. "They are at dinner," Sara finally answered, her breathing ragged. "She met Daemon. I observed through the walls. He was kind to her. I believe there is no ill-will between them."

"That is a relief to hear; truly, it is Sara, but the things I have listened to since she left..." Lyra trailed off, "a girl of her age should not be partaking in such activities. She is far too young to comprehend the consequences fully."

"That is hypocritical, Lyra," Sara scolded, crossing her arms. "I remember us during girlhood. We were not much better."

"That was different," Lyra said. She dismissed any more attempts of scolding from Sara, opening the door as the sounds of music seeped through the crack.

She could see you dancing, hopping back and forth like a rabbit with Princess Halaena. Lyra could not help but smile. Seeing the joy on your face was infectious. It had become a rare sight over the past moons. Partly, because you had just gotten your cycle, your body readying itself to fill its biological purpose. A part of her almost felt guilty for trying to ruin your night with the plans of your escape.

Your laughter carried into Lyra's hiding place as you lifted the Princess. Lyra slowly shut the door, a wan smile covering her face. It might do you good to extend your stay at the Red Keep. You could live as a girl, make friends and play as you never could. It would give Madam a sense of ease to know you were well and to gather the needed supplies for your trip across the Narrow Sea.

Sara gave Lyra a confused look as she retraced her steps. She still needed to memorize them. You would be safe for now, and that was all that mattered as Lyra slinked back to Flea Bottom.

Daemon had escorted you to your room after dinner, silent the entire way. You were thankful for that; if he had sparked conversation, you could not have held back your grin.

Of course, you were still upset with Aegon for stealing you away and keeping his real reason for wanting you at the castle, but how he looked at you... He made you feel like you were the only person worth looking at in a room full of royalty... It made your heart feel full.

Perhaps you were too harsh in judging him? He is still a person growing into an adult, the same as you. You acted immaturely with Ma, and he acted stupidly with you. You would forgive him, just as Ma forgave you.

You thought of Daemon, wondering what was running through his head during that silence. You understood that people believed you were his daughter, but your mother was not alive to claim it as such.

Sara calmly unbraided your hair as Caldia fluffed your pillows, and one of the other girls you had come to find out was named Izola laid a thin buttoned nightgown on the bed. It was nice to be dotted on, feeling more important than you were as your eyes became heavy.

It reminded you of the nights you and Aunt Lyra would pamper each other. She would use extra wages on the day off to gather pastries, flowers, and sweets. You would sit and listen to her odd stories of patrons for that week about how one man wanted her to call him "brother" and cried after he came. You would laugh and laugh as you both stuffed your mouths full.

Suddenly, your chest hurt, your heart skipping a beat, fluttering rapidly to regain its set pace. You clenched your fist, placing it over your heaving breasts as you tried to steady your breathing. It felt like you had fallen from a great distance and landed on your back. Tears swelled in your eyes as your body panicked, unsure of how to respond as it betrayed itself.

"My Lady," Sara spoke with concern in her voice. She had stopped unbraiding your hair, her hands on your shoulders as they heaved up and down. "Are you alright?" She asked, turning to see your frightened expression.

The other girls came rushing over, like swans landing on a pond, as they all gathered around you with concerned looks.

"My Lady, what has upset you?" Izola questioned as she put the back of her hand to your temple.

"My..." You stuttered, clutching your beating chest. "My... Heart," you gasped, confused and scared about what was happening. "I want Auntie Lyra. I want Ma. Where is she?"

You couldn't think straight. Your mind attempted to grasp what was happening, reverting to a terrified child after a nightmare.

"Ma is not here. You are in the Red Keep," Sara attempted to soothe you, unsure whether she should reveal what she knew.

"I-I want to go home," your voice was thick with shedding tears.

"You..." Sara glanced around, unsure, her voice becoming soft and pointed, trying to convey a message with her tone. "You are home."

"No," you cried, yanking at the collar of your dress. "I want to go home! I want to be with my family!"

The gown no longer held beauty when you gazed upon it. All you saw were hands.

You were screaming, your eyes blinded by tears as you stumbled into the vanity, falling to the stone floor. Dozens of pale jeweled fingers become your skin, trying to penetrate your flesh. They consumed you, curling inside as you attempted to pry them away. You pulled and swatted at them, but nothing worked. A never-ending cycle would appear as soon as you broke free of one another.

"Get off," you shrieked, "get away from me!"

You couldn't think. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see. All you could do was feel their burrowing digits wiggling into you.

"Ma!" You screamed again, though you knew she wasn't coming. "Ma! Ma!" Your voice cracked, sounding thick with saliva.

You heard a loud crashing noise in the background, and you turned to look, but one of the hands gripped your face, forcing you to look back at them. You could see them gnawing like rats through your flesh and bone. Before you realized it, you were being lifted, the bejeweled fingers still all over your skin as someone shoved you into a chair.

Suddenly, they all vanished under a curtain of water, and you finally regained all your senses, looking at staring faces.

Caldia stood panting, a silver bucket in her grip. The other two maids were there, along with the Guard who was stationed outside your room. Sara and Izola were holding each other, their faces red and tears brimming their eyes. They must have seen them too... the hands.

"I came as swiftly as the Gods allowed," an older gentleman in pious brown robes said, bursting into your chambers with another man dressed similarly with a leather bag.

"Maester Mellos," Sara greeted in relief. She released Izola and thanked him with a squeeze. "I do not know what happened. One moment I was readying her for bed; the next..." She trailed off, looking at you with concern.

The Maester turned, seeing a girl who looked like she had run from one end of the Keep to the other, then averted his eyes swiftly.

"For God's sake. Give this girl some clothes."

You lowered your head. While in your fit, you had split the gown down to the waist; you only tore your small clothes a little higher. You covered yourself in shame, and embarrassment biting your ears. Caldia dropped the pale and grabbed your night dress from the beautifully patterned silk bed while Sara and Izola went to pull the tattered slit to keep your modesty.

Maester Mellows continued his examination, listening to your heart and touching your neck and underarms for anything abnormal. His companion took notes, a leather-bound book and feather quill in hand as the Maester whispered his findings. Your handmaids stood in the background, each with worried expressions.

One with a hand over their pursed lips, the middle looking between you and the stone floor, the other with arms crossed tightly around their chest, swaying slightly.

"She seems to be in good health," Maester Mellos declared. All three women sighed in relief, whispering thanks to the Seven. "Though her heart beats like a wild stallion, even when resting." As he continued, their faces dropped, fear rising to replace their short-lived relief. "I recommend deep breathing exercises to steady the pulse, but if something like this were to occur again..."

He motioned to his assistant, taking his bag and rummaging through it until he found what he was searching for. "Take a spoonful of this. Not a drop more."

He handed you an amber-colored glass bottle, a cork keeping it tightly sealed as you accepted it with trembling hands, letting him know you understood.

"Child, do you think you will be able to sleep tonight?" You lowered your gaze as your pride made your tongue feel like lead.

Maester Mellos sighed through his nose, kneeling to your height and placing a hand in your shaking ones.

"Tis alright, my girl. All women suffer hysteria from time to time. A punishment that all suffer in this time. Just do as I ask and all will be well." His tone was soft and kind, as a grandfather would speak to their grandchild, but the contents made you feel insulted.

He uncorked the bottle with a pop, getting a spoon from his bag as he poured the liquid into the bowl. You opened your mouth as he raised it, wrapping your dry lips around the cold silver. It was tan, almost the same color as molasses, and you began to feel skeptical of the powers this magic potion was implied to have.

You nearly spat it out from the taste. It was a bitter flavor worse than the absinthe Aegon gave you and burned your throat just the same. You didn't think to ask what it was, too focused on not spitting up as you forced yourself to swallow, taking a gulp of air with you and burping afterward.

"Rest now, child; the Seven smile down upon you. Thank the Maiden for this being your only ailment, and pray to the others for your continued health. You will be well in no time if you devote yourself to that." You nodded again, pushing yourself out of the chair wordlessly as you climbed into your bed, your handmaid hurrying to help you.

The Maester and his companion took their leave with a swift bow, the Guard escorting them out of your chambers and leaving the four of you alone. You had been nothing but a calm, albeit stubborn, guest in the Red Keep, and they were more concerned than anything. You could sense that they had questions, wanting to know where this sudden outburst came from.

The day had taken too much from you, and you had no more energy to speak as they pulled the silk sheets to your chest, tucking you in as Ma or Lyra would. You had begun to feel the effects of whatever Maester Mellos had given you as the girls left. Your limbs were heavy, and you felt your body and mind relax, sinking deeper and deeper onto a bed of clouds.

Aegon had drowned himself in his cups as always, but he did not desire to explore the Streets of Silk as he usually would at this hour. He sat on the stairwell leading down to your bed chamber hallway, waiting patiently until he saw everyone leave. Seeing the Maester as one of them did startle him a bit. What had happened in the time he was not with you?

He realized then that his little dragon could not be left unattended. He must be with you at all times lest something happen. It would be a difficult task for Aegon, yes, but he would do it. He would do it for you. You were his hatchling, after all. His and only his.

The eldest Prince waited a few more moments until he was sure your ladies would not return. He pulled himself up onto wobbly legs as he descended the stairs, dragging his fingers along the corridor until he felt a familiar little divot.

Aegon opened the wall into a hidden passageway connected to the many others that led out of the castle, but he didn't intend to leave tonight. Everything that he desired was right here in these very Redstone walls.

He traveled until he saw the familiar patch of stone that signified your room, making sure his drunk legs did not make a sound in case you had fallen asleep. Aegon pushed the wall slowly, careful not to have the stone scrape the ground as he peered through the crack.

Aside from lit candles on your bedside tables, there was no light in your chambers. He pushed the door partly open so that he could slink through, still as quiet as a mouse as he went to the lump on the side of the bed. He called out softly to not scare you, but as you did not move, he continued and sat on your mattress. Still, you did not stir. Your lips parted slightly as drool leaked onto your cheek. He leaned over, gently swiping away the spit, and finally, you roused, only moving from your side to your back, the covers below your chest.

Your nightgown had come unbuttoned, exposing the glistening valley between your breasts. It stopped short of fully revealing what he longed to see to Aegon, much to his disappointment. He traced his finger over your skin, sticky from the summer night's heat, and you, once again, did not move. He was mildly concerned you did not wake from his touch, but it did not stop him, his cock growing hard in his trousers.

He knew in his mind that if you had been awake, you would not let him touch you as he did, moving the fabric over to free one of your breasts. And the fact that you were not conscious right now, your body unable to reject or accept his advances, made him groan.

Aegon moved, swinging a leg over so you were in between his. Surely this would be when you would wake, kick, and scream at him until he left. But no, you laid beneath him like a log, and he grinned. Indeed this was a sign from the Gods you wanted him. In sleep, your body did not see him as a threat, which meant you truly desired him; your conscious mind did not know it yet.

His needy cock became too much, and he freed it from the confines of his pants. The head was a ruddy pink from his rushing blood, his thick shaft pulsing in time with the hammering of his heart.

He removed your other breast from your nightgown, the nipples taught and ready for him to pinch. One hand found the base of his member, the other groping and massaging the sensitive flesh. It only made him go faster, his hand pumping in shorter and quicker strokes. To his luck, you were still sound asleep, with no expression as to whether you felt him.

Aegon wanted to shove his needy cock down your throat and continue what you had started from a moment that now felt ages ago. When you asked him, drunk on the little death he had just given you, to teach you how to pleasure him. Perhaps your subconscious could learn instead.

"I like it sloppy," he said in a strained voice, spitting on his prick as he mimicked the squeeze of your womanhood with his fist, "but for you, little one, we will go slow. I'll have you dripping first, your little cunt begging to be stuffed by me. You will do better that way," Aegon grunted at the thought as he continued. "Then, I'll have you spit on me and use your tongue to spread it before I sink into your mouth. Do not worry. I shan't shove it in all at once. I'll ease it in. I'll guide your head to find the pace I like, and you'll use your hand to make up for the lost space."

He felt a jolt of pleasure, picturing the scenario in his mind, your big doe eyes staring up at him, looking for reassurance.

"Of course, you will be unsure if you are doing it right, but not to worry, I will tell you." The stroking of his cock went faster, making the pace that you would set for him. "Good girl, I would say. You're taking me so well. I know you would just clench at my praise and try to take more of me. I know what you are, even if you do not. A good little girl that would take whatever I gave her with a smile; you just don't realize it yet." Aegon could feel his high mounting quickly, grunts and moans spewing from his chest as he moved his free hand to squeeze your throat.

"You will do that for me, won't you, little one? You'll take my cock down your fucking throat and thank your Prince when you are done?"

Your eyelids fluttered open at the lack of air, sleep still clouding your vision and mind. You could only make out a face—shoulder-length hair of white, pouting pink lips wet with spit, and flushed cheeks.

"Aegon," you whispered groggily, suddenly pulled back under the sleep waves.

He came quickly and suddenly at the sound of his name from your lips. It was such a force that his seed shot to your chin.

"Yes, it is me, little one. I am here," he answered as more spurts of his manhood fell onto your bare chest. "I am here." You did not hear his words. Already back in a deep slumber as you squirmed slightly, wiping his labor off your chin.

Aegon cursed the Gods for such an insurmountable and sudden pleasure, stroking his cock slowly as he came down, almost collapsing on top of you. He wanted to watch you clean yourself, forcing you to wipe his spend off your body with your fingers, sucking it off before swiping for more, but alas, his little dragon was sleeping and knew better than to wake you. He needed now, more than ever, for you to be awake.

Aegon tucked himself back into his trousers and left the bed, searching for a rag to wipe you but could find none, only seeing your peasant clothes draped over a chair. The maids must've forgotten them, and he grabbed the dirty outfit stained with sweat and alcohol to clean his sin of your flesh. He looked out the window once he was done, throwing the clothes in a random spot for later.

At this point in the night, he realized where his highs would cease, and his thoughts would finally reign free. His chest felt empty, a horrid feeling of shame and guilt gnawing at his gut. No one would ever love him, he realized, not in the way he sought for. His mother was ashamed and disgusted at the mere thought of him. His brother filled all the criteria his Mother wanted him to, and his youngest sister, his... wife, stuck in a marriage she nor he wanted, forced to carry his heirs. His father often forgot he even existed in favor of Rhaenyra and her bastard children.

How would he ruin your life, Aegon wondered. It was inevitable. You, too, would surely follow the same pattern. You would hate him, be repulsed by his heinous actions, and become like everyone else. He heard you stir in bed behind him but did not care; you were still fast asleep. He felt the sting of tears in his eyes, sniffing and willing himself not to let them shed as he crossed his arms for comfort.

"Aegon," he heard a soft voice behind him call. "What are you doing here?" He quickly wiped the tears from his face, rushing over to kneel on the opposite side of your bed.

You saw the wet streaks, his eyes bloodshot. "Are your alright?" You asked, sitting up as you grew more concerned.

"Yes, yes, little one. I am pretty alright. I was just stopping by to see how you faired after tonights events," he lied. You didn't believe him. Your mind slows as you think of what to say.

Though you were still angry at him for what he had done, you felt your heart soften at his broken face as you opened the covers on the other side of you. "Would you lay with me," you quietly spoke, doubling down as you saw his surprised expression. "Just for a little while until I fall back to sleep." Aegon did not hesitate to kick off his boots, shedding his wine-stained shirt as he climbed in. He, too, was desperate for companionship, as he always was.

You knew this was considered improper in royal customs, and you would most defiantly get into trouble if Daemon found out, but you didn't care. You could tell you, and Aegon needed some, if just for the night.

Aegon climbed into bed wordlessly. From the moment you met him, he was always the one to lead, and you were blank on how to proceed. He was afraid to say the wrong thing and have you refute your offer. You both lay there awkwardly, staring a the black ceiling in silence. You were still trying to figure out what to do.

You recalled childhood moments when you would crawl into Aunt Lyra's bed after Ma had scored you. It was almost second nature for her. She always knew how to help you and make you feel better.

You scooted closer to Aegon's stiff form, wrapping your arms around him as he turned. You did not speak. There was nothing to say as you squeezed him closer to you. Each other's presence was enough as you slowly drifted back to sleep. Eventually, his arms wrapped around yours as something akin to water slid down your skin.

Master List of Series

Aegon is a mentally ill and emotionally stunted individual who does terrible things. Instead of mommy issues, he has "everyone in his family issues." I just wanna stroke that baby prince's cock and tell him what a good boy he is as he makes a mess of himself with his cum.

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[greymoonfeelings]

Sweet Reunion

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem! Reader “Nightshade”

word count: 3k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, male receiving oral, P in V sex and creampie 18+ ONLY

summary: You and Rooster were a thing of the past but now that you’re back in the place where it all began, the two of you are feeling a little bit nastolgic.

note: thank you to @marvelousmermaid for helping me when I was stuck! and thanks to @green-socks & @lorecraft for beta-ing.

~~~

North Island was the last place you ever expected to be again, but here you were in your old hang-out spot, The Hard Deck, surrounded by fellow Navy Servicemen.

When you first got the orders to go back for a special mission, your immediate reaction was dread, but now that you were hanging out with your old friends you couldn’t fathom why that had been your reaction.

That was until you heard his name.

“Bradshaw! Is that you?”

The name sends a shock coursing through your body. Your head snaps up just in time to see Bradley Bradshaw confidently striding through the bar.

He’s changed, which was to be expected after six years. He’s bigger, broader and his curls are more sun-bleached than you remember them. He was always attractive, but now he looks purely god-like.

“This is gonna be a long night,” you mutter under your breath before taking a big sip of your whiskey.

You turn to walk back over to your group of friends but you notice that Rooster and Hangman are in the middle of one of their pissing contests. You don’t feel like entertaining their antics tonight, so you decide to stay seated at the bar until the coast is clear.

“Did you see who’s here?” Phoenix takes a seat next to you.

“It’s hard not to, he sticks out like a sore thumb in that fuckin' shirt.”

“Hey, this might be your chance to finally make your move. With all the nostalgia of being back here, who knows what could happen between the two of you.”

“Nothing is going to happen between us.”

“Why not?”

“It’s been years. I’m sure he’s found someone else.” You cover up your frown by taking a sip of your drink, not wanting your best friend to catch onto your sour feelings.

“I don’t think so. You know how hard it is to find someone with our jobs. Plus, I saw him checking you out when he was walking in.”

“He was probably just taking in his surroundings.”

“Yeah, if taking in his surroundings means ogling at the smoking hot pilot wearing tiny jean shorts.”

“They’re not that short!”

Phoenix laughs at your defensiveness. “He was definitely staring at you before I called his name. He even blushed when I said something to him about it.”

“Did you really have to say something?” You groan at her antics.

“Please, Nightshade. If you’re not going to help yourself, then I have no choice but to step in.”

“Absolutely nothing will be happening between me and Bradley Bradshaw. It’s been six years and everything has changed.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirm.

“It seems to me like nothing has changed.”

Phoenix points to the wooden piano across the room where Rooster has just taken a seat. She flashes you a knowing smile before going to join all the other bar patrons in singing along to Rooster’s signature song.

As you watch him sing his heart out, a sudden swirl of memories plays through your mind like a movie. Memories of a similar night years earlier, the night you and Rooster had first hooked up. The night that led to a secret friends-with-benefits relationship during your original time at Top Gun.

“This feels wrong.” You mutter against Rooster’s lips as he pushes you against the bathroom door.

“Oh come on, Nightshade. You afraid of a little fun?”

Your heart jumps when someone knocks against the wooden door, trying to get in.

“I’m not afraid of fun, Rooster. I’m afraid of getting caught.”

“It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

He had made good on his promise that night and every time after the fact. Your sexual encounters were memorable, to say the least, and they hadn’t left your mind since.

You thought about him a lot during lonely nights on assignment.

The feel of his muscular body wrapped around yours, the way his big hands gripped your hips and moved your body just the way he needed. The way his large cock stretched you open and filled you. The way he would chant your name like a prayer as he came.

“I’ll have a beer, Penny.” A familiar deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

A large hand places a ten-dollar bill on the wooden bar. Your eyes trace the prominent veins up the arm and back to its owner, Rooster.

You look up at him a little dumbfounded. You had just been deep in a compromising flashback involving the man and here he was standing right next to you.

He meets your gaze, grinning. “Hey, Nightshade.”

“Hey, Rooster.” You gulp.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He’s amused by the expression on your face, you can hear it in his tone. It’s like he can read your mind.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”

“Feels like just yesterday to me.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I think about you.” He shrugs casually.

“Little old me?” You joke as if you weren’t imagining him minutes prior.

“Are you saying you don’t think about me? About us?”

“Can't say that I do,” you lie.

Rooster shakes his head in defeat. “Same old Nightshade, still stone cold.”

“Same old Rooster, still a big flirt.”

“I’m not as bad as Hangman.”

“Well, you’ve got that going for you.”

Rooster grabs his cold beer and walks away, leaving you to overthink what he’d just said.

Did he really still think about you, even after all this time apart? He must have had a girlfriend, or at least slept with other women, so why out of all of them did you stick out in his mind?

You don’t get any more time to ponder it because soon you’re being beckoned over by Phoenix.

“Nightshade! Get over here! We’re doing teams and I need you to show up Bagman for me!”

“Be right over!”

You sigh, finishing the rest of your drink before standing up. You weren’t about to let Bradley Bradshaw or some ambiguous statement he’d made ruin your night. You were back in a place where some of your best memories had taken place and you were going to enjoy it.

As you approach the pool table, Rooster’s eyes rake over your body as his tongue slips across his bottom lip. He's looking at you like you’re a tasty meal, something to be devoured slowly and savored. When his eyes finally make their way up to your face, he realizes that you caught him looking at you, but instead of shying away embarrassed, he winks.

It wasn’t enough to have dirty thoughts about your old friend plaguing your mind, but now he's here in person making it even harder on you.

•••

You had never planned on rekindling the flame between you and Rooster, but he spent the whole night trying to get your attention. He knew exactly what made you flustered and he was pulling out all the stops.

He spent the night invading your personal space and going overboard with little touches here and there.

He’d reach across you to grab a beer so you’d catch sight of his strong arms or reach into the bowl of popcorn at the same time as you so your hands would graze. When you’d fluster and pull away quickly, he’d just grin as he watched you squirm.

As he'd left for the night, he’d leaned in close to you and whispered his room number into your ear, inviting you to join him later.

Now it’s 1 a.m. and you’re struggling to fall asleep. You’ve been tossing and turning in your bed for the past three hours. You wanted to get a good night's sleep in preparation for tomorrow’s big meeting, but your body is buzzing with adrenaline.

Before you can process your actions, you’re throwing the covers off and leaving your room. You travel down the dimly lit hallway until you reach room 13 and knock on the door.

You want to scold yourself for landing in a position you swore you’d never put yourself in again, but any thoughts of going back to your room are gone the minute Rooster opens the door.

He stands before you shirtless in all his tanned glory, looking like he stepped off the cover of a cheesy romance novel.

You find yourself having to close your gaping mouth. It’s bad enough he’s got you here, he doesn’t need to catch you drooling over him.

“Nightshade.” Rooster smirks down at you, satisfied to see you standing on his doorstep this late at night. But then he notices the look on your face and realizes that maybe you weren’t here for the reason he originally thought. “Hey.” He reaches out and rubs your shoulder comfortingly. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I was just teasing you earlier, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

His sincerity warms your heart and reminds you why you fell for him in the first place years ago.

“Just shut up and kiss me, you idiot.” You push your lips to his passionately, finally tasting him after so long. You kiss him with such intensity that it sends him stumbling back into the room, the door swinging shut behind you.

You forgot how good his lips felt against yours and how great of a kisser he was. You never cared much for making out, but you wouldn’t mind spending hours with your lips on his, not when it felt this electric.

You continue to move farther into the room until you hit the bed, forcing Rooster to sit as you continue to devour one another.

He pulls your top off, discarding the worn navy t-shirt across the room along with your bottoms so you’re bare against him.

Your skin is hot under the touch of his calloused hands which trace your figure, grabbing at anything he can to anchor your body as you grind against him, desperate to satiate the hunger he had left you with earlier in the evening.

“My cock is aching.” He groans at the painful friction from his sweatpants against his erection. “You gotta help me, baby.”

You pull away from him and get down on your knees in front of him, squeezing his thighs as he undoes the string of his sweatpants and pulls them down to his knees, freeing his erection.

Finally seeing his thick, veiny cock after six long years was like reuniting with an old friend and it was just as glorious as you remembered.

He begins to stroke his hard cock, but his hand is quickly replaced with yours as you’re eager to feel its weight.

You spit, letting it dribble down his shaft so your hand glides along better. Your other hand moves to cup his balls, fondling them as you lean down to take his leaking tip into your mouth.

His large hand grips the back of your head, guiding your mouth along his shaft as saliva begins to coat his length and dribbles from the corners of your mouth.

A string of spit makes its way down your chin, traveling down the valley of your breasts and the sight alone is enough to nearly make him cum.

“God, you give the messiest head. It’s fucking sinful how sloppy you get. Spit dripping down those perfect tits.”

You eagerly bob along his thick cock, taking him as far back as you can and work your hand around the part of him that you can’t fit in your mouth.

“You remember how we used to sneak around these halls between training exercises, looking for a quiet place for you to help me let go of all that pent-up adrenaline? Now here you are letting me use your mouth like old times.”

His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing you closer towards the patch of dark hair at his base. His heavy balls violently slap against your chin as he fucks your face.

Curse words spill out of his mouth when your throat spasms around him. A tear slides down your cheek as you gag, but Rooster is quick to gently wipe it away.

The sensation of your warm mouth is too much for him to last any longer. His hips buck a final time as he explodes in your mouth, his hot release shooting down the back of your throat, nearly choking you.

He pulls out, leaving you breathless and a slobbering mess.

“Still so good for me,” he pants. “Taking all this cock like we haven’t skipped a day. I wonder if your pussy still remembers it too?”

Rooster runs his fingers up your throat, collecting the mixture of cum and saliva before bringing those same fingers down to your bare pussy. He uses it as a lubricant to glide his fingers through your folds. Your hips buck against his hand as he zeros in on your clit and begins rubbing the sensitive bud.

Rooster smirks as he watches your head fall back in euphoria.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

You nod, unable to respond in between moans.

“Has it been a long time since someone touched this pretty pussy?”

“Yes,” you admit sheepishly.

“How could anyone resist? It's addictive.”

“I don’t want them.”

“Who do you want?”

Rooster gently grabs your chin and forces you to look at him when you answer.

“You. I want you.”

“C’mere.” Rooster rids himself of his sweatpants completely before pulling you down by your hips to straddle him.

His cock is still hard against his stomach, his earlier orgasm not enough to give him any relief. If he still had as much stamina as he did six years ago, you’re afraid you might not make it through the night, but it’d be a lovely way to go out.

He grasps his saliva-coated cock, bringing the tip up to your soaking core. You help him line up with your entrance before slowly lowering yourself until you're fully seated with his cock nestled deep inside you. Your insides burn at how big he is, but it doesn’t detract from your desire.

“God, you’re so big, Roos,” you whine.

“You take me so well. Best I’ve ever had.”

Rooster peppers kisses along your collarbone as you adjust to his size. It takes everything he has within him to restrain from eagerly bucking into you, but the last thing he wants to do is cause you pain.

After a few moments, his hands wander to your ass as he begins to rock his hips, gently thrusting into you. Your pussy feels like heaven wrapped around his cock and he can’t believe he’s lived without you for so many years.

“I’ve waited so long for you,” he whispers into your ear.

His admission causes your heart to flutter but makes your need to be ravaged by him more intense. You knew he was being delicate with you and if he would just allow himself to give in, there was a beast inside him waiting to be unleashed.

“Don’t hold back, please. I want it all,” you beg.

With your permission, Rooster’s large hands move to tightly grip your hips as he begins to manually move you up and down his cock.

Your ass slaps against his thighs with every bounce and the resulting sound echoes through the bedroom along with the lewd squelching of your pussy.

Your tight cunt feels like Heaven, but this isn’t enough for him. He needs more and he knows your body well enough to know you feel the same.

He temporarily pulls out to flip the two of you onto the bed. He throws your legs over his shoulders before he continues pounding into you.

Slowly but surely all of your senses are flooded by him.

The smell of the cologne still lingers on his skin, his ragged grunts are all you can hear. His hot, sticky skin is pressed against yours. You can still taste him on your tongue and the only thing in your line of vision is his hulking form. You’re consumed by him.

“You’re so perfect.” Rooster whispers, sucking a mark into the delicate skin below your ear.

You turn your head to meet his lips, winding your hands into his dark curls as his tongue explores your mouth.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he angles his hips to hit deeper, finding that special spot inside of you that makes your brain foggy with pleasure.

“Are you close, baby? I wanna see your beautiful face while you’re making a mess for me. You always look so pretty when you’re milking my cock.”

The pressure of his pelvis rubbing against your clit combined with the sweet words he’s whispering to you push you over the edge.

You let out a strangled cry as your high crashes over you. Pleasure floods your system as you cum around his cock, soaking him.

When he feels your pussy clamp down around him, Rooster’s pace falters as he finally lets go. His hot cum fills your cunt as he works both of you through your orgasms.

When it’s over, he slumps against you as you struggle to catch your breath. Every inch of your skin still feels like it’s on fire, but it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.

“God, that was amazing.” You pant as you rub his back.

Rooster finally pulls away from you, going to the bathroom to clean himself off. He comes back with a wet cloth to help you clean up before collecting your discarded bottoms.

When he joins you back in bed, he pulls you to lay against his chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you. The two of you lay in comfortable silence until you speak up.

You turn in his arms to look deeply into his eyes. “I lied earlier, at the bar. I told you I never thought about you, but I did, I do. I think about you all the time.”

“I meant what I said, Nightshade. I’ve waited forever for another chance with you. I let you get away the first time, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Rooster pulls you in for a kiss to prove his love to you and you back to laying in his arms, pleased with the way the night had turned out.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Congrats on 100!

Could I please have angst 06. “You never even cared about me.” mixed with fluff 05. Person A kissing person B in the rain. - with Jake please!

All I ask for is a happy ending!

Hi, Fe! Thanks for your congratulations! As requested here is your mix of Angst Prompt 6, “You never even cared about me” mixed with Fluff Prompt 5, Person A kissing person B in the rain. I hope you like it! The italicized parts are lyrics from the song Something's Gotta Give by Camila Cabello 🥰😘🤩

Something's Gotta Give

Like all the most cliche stories, it started with an arrangement. You’d joined the Dagger Squadron out of Naval Air Station North Island six months ago. You’d never thought you’d enjoy being in one place for so long, but you do. You’d quickly become close with Halo and Phoenix, the three of you bonding as the sole females in a squadron full of men. The three of you had been decompressing over beers and cocktails at the Hard Deck, avoiding the men while sitting at one of the tables. The conversation had started with sharing stories of how you’d gotten your callsigns. Callie had shared how she’d gotten the monicker Halo, and Natasha had shared how she’d gotten Phoenix. After their cool stories, you’d felt ashamed, sharing that you’d gotten Lily for your Lily print Lanyard and notebook during flight school. That had just been the start of the night. The three of you had each downed a drink, plus a shot of Tequila apiece when Callie pulled you and Natasha forward conspiratorially.

“Okay. So we’ve all been in a couple of relationships, right?” Her voice was hushed and mischievous.

You and Natasha had shared twin excited looks, grinning and then nodding at her.

“What’s your experience been with orgasms, then?” She’d pulled the two of you forward closer, “Cause I didn’t actually cum unless it was with a woman. The men who I’ve dated couldn’t have found my clit if it had been pointed out to them.” You couldn’t help how you giggled as Natasha shared her experience. Your face had been flushed with laughter and the alcohol you’d consumed when they’d turned their gazes to you. 

You’d stuttered out how you’d never cum at all with a man, or in fact, by yourself, not expecting a heavy arm to wrap around your shoulders or a Texan drawl to purr in your ear, “Well, darlin’, if you ever need a man to help you with that, look my way.”

Nat and Callie’s eyes had gleamed dangerously, and by the end of the night, you’d found yourself a very willing participant in a friends-with-benefits relationship with Jake Hangman Seresin. 

His cocky confidence hadn’t been a sham or show. He knew what he was doing, and once you knew what you’d been missing, you’d chased after your orgasms as single-mindedly as you approached flying. Your downfall was your damned bleeding heart. You don’t know when or how, but you’d fallen in love with Jake. You'd found him to be sweet, kind, and generous. When he wasn’t playing the part of ‘The Hangman’, he was incredibly easy to befriend and even easier to adore. You wanted nothing more than to have him in your bed all night instead of seeing him get dressed after you’d cum together. It had gotten to be too much. How could you take it anymore? 

That decision is what brings you to now as you wait outside his apartment door on a rainy November night. You’ve been agonizing over what to say to him, though you guess you know what to say when the door opens, and a blonde model wannabe strides out. It’s like a scene out of the movies, you, in your frumpy jeans and t-shirt, looking at this girl in her sparkly dress and heels walking out the door as Jake stands in the doorway wearing only gray sweatpants.

“Hey.” Your voice is quiet as the girl walks away. 

“What’re you doing here, Lily Flower?” Your eye roll is harsh as you step into his space. He stinks of overly sweet perfume, the scent making you feel even sicker than you already are. 

“We need to talk.” You can see something new in his eyes before he steps aside to let you into the apartment.

You can see the emotions warring in his eyes as you sit on the edge of his sofa. He’s pacing in front of you, running his hands through his already disheveled hair. “You’re here, Lily Flower. So talk to me.”

“Jake. We need to stop this.” Your voice rings out like the crack of a whip in the silent apartment. He stops moving entirely, his hands falling to his side as he looks at you wide-eyed in the dim lamplight.

“Stop it?” You’re not expecting to hear the anguish in his tone. “Why?”

“I can’t keep doing this. I broke the first rule of a friends-with-benefits arrangement. I fell for you. Hard. And by the looks of the blonde that just walked out of here, it’s obvious that you don’t feel the same. Something's gotta give, Jake. Something's gotta break. But all I do is give, and all you do is take. Something's gotta change, but I know that it won't. No reason to stay is a good reason to go.” You can’t hide how your voice breaks in time with your heart as you spit the words out.

“I should have never agreed to this. You make me feel so good that I forget everything my brain is screaming at me about you. I ignore all the warning signs, and it’s ripping me apart.” You can’t hear anything other than the hitches in your own breathing as you stare into his luminescent green eyes. “You never even cared about me. I was just a means to an end. A way to get off and another notch on your bedpost.” You’ve got your arms wrapped around yourself as you breathe raggedly.

“You knew what you were getting into, you know that, right, darlin’?” His voice is cruel as he rips into you. “I should know by now. You should know by now. We should know by now. You walked into this of your own volition. So how is it on me if you fell in love? Did I ever once tell you that I would stop seeing other people?”

“No.” Your voice is quiet. “Then what was the point of the kisses and soft touches? The pet names? Calling me your good girl? Any of that?” Your chest burns as you speak. “I’m not completely innocent, Jake. And I’ve never heard of any of that being a part of an arrangement like ours.” You’re standing now, walking towards the door.

“So that’s it, huh? I was wrong, you were too. You’re leaving now. We’re done? Three months of the happiest I’ve ever been, and you’re ending it?” Your legs buckle at the pain in his voice as you yank the door open. Your voice is stripped bare as you return his words. “If these three months were the happiest you’ve ever been, why haven’t you said anything? Why aren’t you asking me to stay? If you feel anything at all for me, why aren’t you doing anything? Why aren’t I in your arms right now?” You wait a few beats, but you walk out the door when he doesn’t move and just stands there.

It’s never been harder to walk away. As you step unseeingly through the puddles and unlock your car, it's pouring down. You break, sitting in the leather seat, sobbing with your head against the steering wheel. It’s silent in the car, only your stifled gut-wrenching sobs and the tapping of the raindrops on the windshield. You’re not expecting the door to be yanked open, though. Or to find yourself crushed against a chest, you know too well. His arms are like steel as they wrap around you. You melt into him, crying even harder now that you can feel Jake around you. His lips press against the top of your head, and you can hear his breath stutter as he holds you. 

“I’m not letting you go, Lily Flower. You’re under my skin, too, sweetheart. I want you in my arms and in my bed. Every day and every night. You’re not the only person who fell, darlin’ and fell hard. I did too. I was just too stubborn to tell you the truth. I resorted to bringing home girls like the one you saw leave to try to get you out of my head. It didn’t work. It hasn’t worked. I don’t think it ever will.” His hands are gentle as he pulls away from you, brushing tears from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You slip out of the car seat, shut the door, and stand in the pouring rain facing him.

“So, where do we go from here?” Your voice is hoarse as you look into his eyes.

“I want to do what I should have before this. Let me take you out? Let me show you how precious you are? Let me show you how much I love you?” His jaw is clenched as he stares at you, water dripping down his torso. 

You nod once, abortively, before leaping into his arms. The kiss he presses to your lips is all-consuming. It sends heat through your veins, and you kiss him back just as hard. When you part, you’re fighting for breath. Jake sets you carefully back down on your feet, watching in the rain as you open the door again and grab your purse as well as your car keys. His smile is sweet as you lock the car and take his hand in yours.

“Take me to bed, Cowboy.” You’re smiling at the look on his face. “I love you.”

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