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kookslastbutton · 7 months

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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love

word count: 3,328

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events

playing: Unkiss Me

a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰

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From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.

He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.

Recent ex-wife that is.

For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.

That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.

Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.

But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.

Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.

After all, you deserve it; you both do.

Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.

"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.

"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.

He doesn't blame you for that either.

As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.

Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)

"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.

"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."

"He misses you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."

Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.

Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.

"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."

"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.

"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.

Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"

You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"

"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.

Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.

"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.

"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."

"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."

You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.

The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.

"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.

"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."

"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.

"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.

"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."

The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.

"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"

"Jungkook..."

"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.

"Wait!"

Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.

"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.

Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.

It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.

With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.

You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.

"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."

"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.

"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.

"Did you—"

"No, they weren't for you."

A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.

Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.

"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.

You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.

"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."

"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."

"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."

"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"

You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."

"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.

"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.

You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.

"Hm?"

"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.

"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.

You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.

"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."

"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.

"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.

Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."

Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.

Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.

"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.

"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."

You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.

Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.

You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.

Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.

a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘

Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts au #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts x reader #fic:guiltypleasures #kookslastbutton

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velvetlilacsdaisies · 3 months

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Stay Still | B. Durran |

Bodhi Durran x fwb!fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, MDNI, swearing, p in v, (unprotected sex pls pls be safe), cockwarming, not proofread well, switch!Bodhi, possessive!Bodhi, bratty!reader, poorly written smut, smut with little plot

A/n: hehhe this came out of my ass idk what got into me during my reading bonanza last night 🤭. I just felt truly inspired to try to write a full smut. This is my first official smut I’ve wrote so I would love feedback to improve on it if you have it, but I hope you find this as fun as I did!!

You sighed boredly laying on Bodhi’s bed, stomach pressed against the plush mattress, idly looking over a book about runes you tried to occupy your thoughts with. It had been thirty minutes since you arrived at the Section Leader’s door looking for some company in nothing but your black dressing robe and matching tiny nightgown underneath. Anticipating when he opened his door, he’d haughtily pull you into his quarters and ravish you like a man starved…but no. He merely gave you a once over before letting you in, and sat back at his desk doing his research on wards for Xaden.

You wanted to help as much as he did with resurrecting the wardstones for your friends, but now it had impeded on yours and his arrangement. It’s been two weeks since you last found yourself in the embrace of the man you craved, and you were desperate for the attention you lacked. It had become an unspoken routine you two had secretly engaged in since after Threshing last year. Only using each other other than for just distractions from the trials of surviving the Rider’s Quadrant at night, while during the day you were just squad mates.

You could feel another wave of heat go through your core at the thought of the secret that the two of you shared. You had been fighting the wanton desire since the last time you had found each other. Not that you weren’t satisfied by Bodhi, but you never stopped wanting him it had become glaringly obvious for you. You had even resorted to giving into flirty banter with Ridoc in front of him to get the Flame Section Leader’s acknowledgment, left with not even a sarcastic remark or scolding look on his part. Since Violet returned from Samara, there was a dire urgency to find answers on the wardstone.

But today was exemplarily tougher to push that ache down. After a rather intensive Flame Section sparring session after classes, you had been forced to watch Bodhi spar without drooling. His shirt discarded halfway through the session when he was challenged by Sawyer, the sweat glistening off his chiseled muscles. As if he knew the effect he had on you. The relic that swirled over his bulky biceps and veiny forearms and his dragon relic that loitered on the back of his left sharp shoulder blade down to the side of his refined torso. You had to take an extra cold shower once all the girls left the locker room to calm the burning desire that consumed you which proved to be no help.

You got off the bed, and made your way to him feeling impatient as your core throbbed once more. His back was towards you, displaying his relics that you admired and worshiped in the solace of the night. Your arms wrapping around his chest from behind, your nails lightly scratching his broad bare chest.

“Boh,” you whined, nipping at his earlobe. “Are you done yet?” You asked, a simper to your tone. The arousal in between your legs getting too heavy to bare, and clenching your thighs was no longer an option to fight the want for him. You wanted him now. No—you needed him, and you weren’t going to deprive yourself another minute.

“I don’t have much longer until I finish this section.” He murmured. He screwed his eyes shut trying to focus on the text in front of him, tilting his neck out of instinct to the side letting your lips press needy kisses down to his shoulder.

He had known when he saw you at your door in your skimpiest night clothes what you wanted. Finally making a move in the unintentional stalemate between the both of you. It didn’t fall on to blind eyes the way you went out of your way to be bratty throughout the last two weeks, attempting to get a rise out of him. It almost worked, but never being a jealous man, and clever enough to see right through you. The flirty comments to Ridoc, the way he could feel your alluring eyes burn holes into him during any time he was in the vicinity of you. He almost felt guilty leaving you hanging and to resort to blatant facades of making him jealous, a silent plea to just take you already.

He wanted to do nothing, but to fuck you and remind you who you belonged to.

You looked enticing, and every primal thought that flooded his mind he pushed down to the back of his mind when you appeared in front of his door. The churam he smoked an hour ago doing nothing to stop his chest from hammering, and the blood rushing to his manhood, twitching, at the sight of you. He had to use every ounce of his self discipline to keep his composure in check, letting you in without pouncing, devouring you like he wanted. Xaden would arrive back in Basgiath tomorrow expecting intel, and he hadn’t gotten very far in his research besides dead ends.

Your name got stuck in his throat barely sputtering it out as you sucked on the spot that you knew drove him wild, the conjunction of his neck and shoulder.

You weren’t exclusive with Bodhi, but you had learned everything about him that made him tick. From the littlest things like how his eyes lingered when your flight jacket was slightly undone bearing the slightest bit of cleavage in the low cut tank top you wore underneath—to what made him absolutely feral—the feeling of your lips with your teeth marking his sweet spot that would be barely concealed by the collar of his tight black training shirt the next day. Noting how he would wear the mark proudly like the patches on his jacket. Having a boyish grin when a squad mate would bring it up playing coy. No one knew they were left by you.

“I’ll help you after…” you purred, your hands traveling down his torso to the waistband of his night pants. Fingers nimbly tracing the barely grown out hair that led underneath the cotton. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you.” You pouted before peppering more kisses on his cheeks, feeling satisfied at the sharp intake of air he took at the movement.

You would get your way, there would be no other outcome of you showing up at his door tonight than to be ruined by Bodhi Durran.

“I’m expected to have something to report on tomorrow.” He protested weakly, savoring your mouth against jaw, but still keeping his eyes on the parchment.

His dissolve was close to crumbling, feeling the cold fingertips slip underneath his waistband. All he wanted to do was bend you over his desk, imagining your cheek pressed to the ancient texts laid out on the wooden surface as he railed into you from behind. His cock hardened more at the idea of him inside you.

“Xaden won’t-” you were cut off by the scrape of the wooden chair against the stone floor making you stumble backwards slightly. Bodhi abruptly slid his bottoms down, revealing half hardened manhood, sitting back down in the chair.

“C’mere,” he growled. His tone had a dangerous lilt to it, only making the wetness that had pooled in your panties grow more. His usual warm brown eyes blown out filled with something more than lust.

Your throat ran dry, obeying as you stepped in between his legs. He leaned his forehead against your stomach, inhaling steady breaths as if he could smell your arousal. His rough hands gripping your bare outer thighs before slipping under your nightgown, roughly kneading the soft flesh of your ass. Then he hooked his fingers around the fabric of your undergarments dragging them down your legs.

“You want me to fuck you, but have another man’s name leave your lips?” He gritted out through his, barely speaking above a whisper.

Bodhi knew he was overreacting, but when his cousin’s name came out of your mouth, his primal instincts came bubbling to the surface. A feral fire fueling him, no longer to be tamed. How dare you bring up Xaden, when you came here solely looking for relief from him after acting the way you’ve been.

You were taken aback by the words, leaving you stammering. “I-I’m sorry, Boh..”

This was a new side to him, you’ve never seen before. A nervous pang made your heart skip a beat, though excited at the aggressiveness in his actions.

“You think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been doing the last two weeks?” He cupped the back of one of your thighs, bringing a leg over his. “Think you were being sly?” He questioned.

You shook your head furiously, forgetting how to speak momentarily.

He pinched the inside of your thigh, only adding to the fire that blazed in your core, a soft gasp leaving your slacked jaw. “Use your words, babygirl.”

“N-no,” the words airily released from your throat, a pink tint to your cheeks.

He smirked, a dry laugh escaping him. “That's what I thought.” He dragged your other leg over his so you were now straddling him, knees perched on the extra wide seat. “Since you want to be a brat, you can sit on my cock until I’m done here.” He held his member with one hand, pumping slowly. “You got it?”

You gulped, watching how it twitched ever slightly, and his shoulders relaxed as he held himself. Nodding eagerly, biting your lip, still looking between the both of you awaiting for him to be inside you.

His free hand wrapped around your hair, pulling it, forcing you to look in his eyes. “What did I say about your words?” He growled. A soft moan left your lips at the gesture. His darkened brown eyes wavered in hunger and pride at the reaction.

“Y-yes, please…” you begged, feeling him rub the tip against your slick folds.

“Good girl, so wet for me,” he groaned.

He slowly inserted himself at your entrance, his hand finding your hip to help lower yourself on to him until he bottomed out inside you. His thick member stretching you out in a blissful sting that he could make you feel. You both sighed at the feeling, and you rested your head in the crook of his neck holding on to him with a near death grip.

You could feel yourself throb as he went back to working. His hands lightly brushing your sides every time he flipped a page or went to jot a note down in his notebook, causing jolts to go down your body. You tried to grind your hips to provide the teeniest bit of relief, Bodhi would only grip your thighs with a bruising force.

“Stay still,” he hissed, his head rolling back as he felt you clench around him again. A small smirk graced your lips, an idea coming to your mind.

One of your hands slid in between you, and found your clit. You moaned, as your fingers circled the sensitive nub.

“Y/n…” he warned, listening to the sweet noises you made in his ear, gripping the quill in his hand tightly. He had thought he had the upper hand in this, but as you touched yourself, his cock warming your insides, he felt the remaining bit of his dissolve crumble. “You’re such a fucking brat.” He held your hips, halting your movements.

“Do something about it then.” You challenged, pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips.

He thrusted up into you, sounds sweet as sin coming from your throats. A wicked smile twisted on to your face, finally. “I fully intend to.” He mumbled, pulling you into another kiss, this time longer and heated. You nipped at his lower lip, earning a hiss from him as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.

Drilling into you at a slow agonizing pace, your tongues fought for dominance, the kiss becoming broken up between strings of noises leaving the both of you. The slow burn pleasure painstakingly from the pace he had set. You tried to lower yourself up and down to go at a faster pace and to your dismay he slowed his movements more, squeezing your hips in caution.

You pulled away panting, “more.” You were a whimpering mess, frustrated to find your release. “Please, Bodhi.”

“Just because you get what you want doesn’t mean you still can’t be punished.” A lazy smirk etched on to his broad jaw. “I have to remind you who you belong to.”

He slowly thrusted up into you again, making you cry out. His face contorted to a look of pleasure as he provided deep slow strokes into you, the sight of him biting his now bruised lip heavenly.

“I’m yours, please.” You begged, nails biting into his shoulders. “Only yours.” You cried when he thrusted particularly harder when you said that.

“Y’ feel so good around me.” He drawled. “Like your pussy was made for me, sweetheart.” His words caused an effect on your whole body from your pussy clenching harder around him to your heart swelling from the praise.

The atmosphere felt entirely different from the usual casual hook ups from before. His forehead resting against yours, occasionally nuzzling your nose with his whispering lines of worship for you taking his time.

“Feels so good,” you panted, looping your fingers in his curls at the nape of his neck. You could feel yourself go dumb as his fingers found your clit, circling it with the same agonizing pace of his cock. You don’t know how much of this you could take. “Please, please, please let me ride you.”

“Do you deserve to ride me?” He taunted in between thrusts.

You nodded vigorously, “please let me make you feel good, Boh. Please.”

He stopped playing with your clit, bringing his fingers to your swollen lips. You sucked your juices off of them, tasting yourself as he leaned back in the chair.

“Mm, since you’ve been begging so nicely.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

The moans you released as you fucked yourself onto Bodhi’s cock were angelic. Letting you lower yourself up and down, watching as you got lost, getting drunk on his manhood. His hands had a firm grip on your waist, helping guide you down his length.

“That’s it, ride me like the good slut you are.” He watched your cunt sink onto him, swallowing his length whole.

You could start to feel the familiar coil of release start to come undone, and you knew you weren’t gonna last long. The sounds of your slick and his pants encouraging you to go faster.

Bodhi sensed the way you gripped him, you were going to climax, and met your rhythm bucking his hips upward. “You gonna come f’me?” He asked.

You could only mewl in response, the pleasure rendering you speechless as you rode him harder. Your vision blurred with stars, your body going rigid from the surge of tingling pleasure that electrified your body. The coil finally unraveling in your core as you orgasmed. You let out a throaty moan that was muffled by his lips, kissing passionately.

The tawny skinned man didn’t stop his movements, feeling his own release chasing yours. His aching cock twitched in need of relief. He muttered curses, his pace getting sloppier as he whimpered your name.

“Come for me, Boh.” You whispered softly. His arms wrapped tightly around your midsection, clinging to you like his life depended on it as he kept fucking you.

You felt the twitch, and his release shoot into you, a guttural groan following it. Feeling the mix of your arousals seeping out of you, his cock throbbing.

The heavy breathing from the both of you was the only noise in the room, you two staying in the position. You lightly scratched his scalp letting him regain his composure, his arms loosely holding you still. After a minute, he leaned away looking at you silently.

The intense gaze made you self conscious, clearing your throat as indication you were getting up. His arms only tightened around you once more, but he let his cock sink out of you, feeling your releases cover both of your thighs.

“I should get going,” you stated bluntly.

“Stay the night?” He reached over for the t-shirt that was crumpled on the floor beside his desk. Gingerly wiping you off first, being extremely gentle and careful to not be too abrasive with your sensitive parts, before he cleaned himself off.

You blinked in surprise, he never asked that before—let alone so nonchalant. You two never stayed too long in one another’s quarters after, let alone spend the night with one another. This would encroach the boundaries you mentally placed on this arrangement, ultimately entangling what you had already felt for the man in front of you.

“Aren’t you worried someone will see?” You asked warily.

He offered his usual boyish grin. “That’s kind of the point, sweetheart.”

Personally the pacing was weird for me to write, but I hope it gave you guys what you needed! The idea of fwb possessive Bodhi now has me in a chokehold lmao. Like I said, I am always open to improvements and feedback as this was a bit out of my comfort zone 🫶🏻🩷

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

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A Stranger’s Dance (1)

Summary: You have not seen Prince Aemond for many years and to his surprise and curiosity, you seem to have changed.

I was listening to this song and couldn’t shake the idea of a woman being so engrossed in the dancing that Aemond just watches her in curiosity from across the room. why does it make me wanna cry tho, this sweet boi deserves love

Warnings: fluff, sexual tension, kind of sexual words, mega fluff so you know i still have a soul after A Mother for a Son

A Stranger Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2

Aemond could only shake his head, watching his older brother from across the room, two goblets of wine in hand and each of them equally spilling over the top of the brim all over the floor. He let out an exasperated sigh, eye scanning as he watched his drunken King of a brother make his way across the floor, bumping into various dancing couples, sharing the wine in the form of covering them with it. But what could they say to their King? They could only idly watch and let out puffs of anger at the new stains down their fine clothes.

Aegon's obvious over drinking did not dampen the mood of the room though, it was hot and warm in the banquet hall tonight. Less formal than their usual and the various lords and ladies of the land had not dressed up quite as much for this event. It wasn't anyone's nameday, nor was it a special occasion entirely, but a chance for the lords to make their connections with other lords while their wives laughed with one another and drank copious amounts.

This was also the thing that separated this event from normal banquets. At the usual banquets, everyone was reserved and drank one, perhaps two goblets of wine.

Here, everyone was flushed with drunkenness and seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves. And with the amount of people who were dancing with one another stretching all the way down the hall, it was hot and sweaty, but perhaps as happy as some had ever seen, certainly since the recent war.

Aemond was beyond these kind of events and did not attempt to hide his contempt for it, sitting at the top table and having a perfect view of everybody, he simply scanned everybody drinking, dancing, hugging, laughing. He simply sat there, watching other people have their fun, occasionally sipping his wine, progressively getting more tired as the night went on.

Even Halaena had joined in, leaving Aemond largely to himself at one side of the table, fingers impatiently tapping at the tablecloth. His mother, Alicent, had just excused herself to her chambers after feeling tired, no doubt wanting to be rid of the experience also.

Aemond was quite rudely snapped out of his trance by his brother Aegon almost launching himself across the table, reaching out for Aemond like a child.

"What is wrong with you…" Aegon slurred, picking his heavy head up from the table to give Aemond a half lidded smirk.

Aemond quirked a brow, "What is wrong with me?" he asked, finding Aegon's display less than funny. But what irked him more was his brother suggesting he was being spoilt sport for not joining in on the festivities.

"You're just so boring…everyone else is having a good time, hip" Aegon hiccupped. Aemond shook his head,

"I am not everyone else" he answered simply. This answer didn't seem to satisfy Aegon, who huffed and rounded to the back of the table to place a hard hand on his brother's shoulder. Aemond seemed to stiffen visibly, only turning his head enough to see his brother in his peripheral.

"Well, brother hip are you not going to guess what I heard"

Aemond's jaw tightened, not bothered with entertaining his brother, "What"

Aegon leaned in to whisper, "Guess who will be gracing us with their presence tonight"

Now he was just being annoying.

"Who"

"Y/n"

"Aegon…" Aemond answered, looking at him, "…why in seven hells would I care?"

Aegon feigned shock, "Well excuse me. I am only trying to introduce some female company into your life, brother"

Aemond could have rolled his eye. It was long known by now that Aemond had been pressured to court a woman to marry, as he had heirs of his own to sire. His own mother had recently said he should not wait so long before marriage and as a Prince he had duties to fulfil. And despite Alicent giving him the option of choose his own wife, he arrived at no options.

All the ladies at court were uninteresting and only desired to be married for the title of being Princess. This notion was extremely unattractive and, in a way, felt jealous of Aegon, for his situation had been placed before him without any effort.

Even if he attempted to court a woman, his confidence in himself had been something of a challenge since the incident. Despite not feeling as downtrodden as he had done when he was younger, there was still a lack of confidence that tugged at is heart.

"I had all but forgotten her" Aemond answered, barely remembering how you looked. It had been years and years since he had last seen you.

Aegon slumped in a chair next to his brother, pulling a goblet closer to him, listening to the loud music in the room, "Yes, she was a mousy little thing. Quiet, nervous type. She was the one with the…" Aegon pointed around his eyes and Aemond's eye met the table in thought.

Oh yes. He remembered you now.

You had indeed been a nervous, small child, who despite being aged about two and ten, looked a couple of years younger you were so small in stature. You had also been born with two different eye colours and while being reminiscent of a beautiful Targaryen Princess, you were neither a Targaryen nor a Princess, so the compliments never came your way and it was a point of bullying for some time.

The Prince could barely think of a time he had spoken to you, but he thought he must have done. He never remembered you speaking back to him either…where were these memories.

"She is coming with her father, they say hip Oh! There!" Aegon pointed to the corner of the room, where a man who was far past middle-ages had entered, weaving through the crowds, but he was alone.

With a huff he eventually made his way up to the top table, offering a bow to the King and Aemond beside him, "My King, your Grace" he greeted. Ah yes, Aemond remembered this man now. He was a very jovial man rarely without a smile on his face, unlike a lot of lords. Now that he was older, he had a well-groomed white beard, but his smile remained wide.

"Lord Highgreen, it is a pleasure to have you" Aegon replied, strangely cordially and holding back another hiccup. His eyes drunkenly scanned the room, "I was led to believe your daughter would be joining us?"

After taking Aegon's hand in a handshake, he smiled widely again, "Ah yes, she is already dancing, your Grace. I will go and fetch her" he turned and disappeared back into the sea of dancing bodies. Aemond watched him walked away, intrigued. Was she here dancing this whole time? He thought to himself. He wondered what you looked like after all these years.

"I do wonder what keeps him happy" Aegon started, Aemond's eye never leaving the back of Lord Highgreen's head, tracking him in his mind, "Poor bastard only had one daughter before his wife died, waste of a good woman"

Aemond had done a wonderfully good job of ignoring his brother's quips and watched intently as Lord Highgreen stopped before a young woman who Aemond could not make out very well in the moving crowd, only noting that she had dark brown hair that fell long around her shoulders. The music was loud now and the crowd reflected this as their dancing became faster and faster, their pink, smiling faces obstructing the view.

Aemond could see that he had been pulled into a dance with the young woman as the current song was nearing its end and he felt a smirk rise to his face as he watched the young lady dance around him, but he did not complain it seems, face as wide with laughter as ever.

As the song came to a close and every began clapping, awaiting the next, Aemond saw a part of her figure. She was smiling and bowing to her father, as if he were her dance partner only to immediately be pulled under his arm to be led to the table, once again disappearing amongst the people.

He only once got a good look as they both stepped up to the top table, a few steps above everybody else, she was saying something unintelligible to her father, her face pink with laughter. Lord Highgreen turned back to the men sat before them, bowing his head once more.

"Your Grace, my daughter, y/n"

It was only now that the young lady looked upon the two men, who were wordlessly staring back at her. It was true, she was the same person, but completely different.

She wore a sage green dress, decorated with golden detail and corseted at her waist, her neckline was slightly lower than a noblewoman's would be, with her straps handing delicately of her shoulders, exposing her flushed chest after all her dancing. Her eyes landed on Aegon first, immediately offering a curtsy, head dipping as she did so, her dark brown locks falling around her shoulders.

"King Aegon" she said. Her voice. Her voice was lower than you would imagine but soft and flowing. She no doubt had a lovely singing voice.

Her focus now landed on Aemond, who was inadvertently gripping the goblet in front of him with such tightness. Surely, he thought, this could not be the mousy child he scarcely once knew?

She nodded her head once more and Aemond could not help but look deep into her eyes, her right, a light green, her left a clear blue. In most lights perhaps you could not even tell they were different colours, but here it was clear. The sheer sight of her delicate face alone let a fluttered feeling in his stomach loose.

"Your Grace" she greeted Aemond, her gaze lingering on him for what felt like a lifetime.

"I do not blame either of you for not recognising her, she has outgrown me even" Lord Highgreen said suddenly, breaking this glance as you looked over at your father.

"Father, please" you said with feigned embarrassment.

Aegon, no doubt because of the wine, seemed to break out of a trance, "My lord, where in seven hells have you been hiding her!"

Aemond kicked his foot under the table, wordlessly telling him to be quiet, making you bite your lip to stifle a laugh. If you had been looking at Aemond, you'd find that he had not taken his eye off you.

"I had hoped to sneak her out of Green Hill to have her as one of Queen Halaena's ladies, my King" he answered smiling once again. This details seemed to peak Aemond's interest and he straightened up, pulling the wine to his lips, "to seek a husband" he finished.

Aemond pulled the goblet from his lips, swallowing hard, more interesting details demanding his attention.

"You are not betrothed" Aemond asked you, making your eyes land on him once again. His gaze over the rim of the goblet made it so you could not help but send him a smirk,

"I am not" you answered, "Your Grace"

Aemond did not know if he had misheard, but the way you had decided to leave the sentence to hang in the air made his curiosity peak again and he himself could not help the one-sided smirk that came upon him.

Halaena seemed to appear at your side all of a sudden, grasping your hand excitedly, "Y/n, come join me for this next song!" she said, a wide smile on her features. You looked over to your father and he nodded softly, you thanked him wordlessly and allowed Halaena to guide you back to the main floor. But not before catching eyes on the one-eyed Prince for a moment before turning and disappearing into the crowd, joyful, stringed music starting up once again.

After that meeting, Aemond could only see you amongst the crowds, dancing with his sister joyfully. Once her father had walked away after delivering his greetings, Aegon laughed drunkenly, gulping down one whole goblet before turning to his brother, "Brother, you will scare her away if you keep staring at her like that"

"She would be lucky to escape knowing your drunken eyes on are her"

Aegon leaned into his brother, "What a hypocrite you are, brother. I see how you look at her. Do not tell me you don't desire to bend her over this table and-"

Aegon had stopped as Aemond's eye looked slowly over, wordlessly advising him to quit while he was ahead. Aegon nodded and picked up two more goblets, "Alright then, just don't wait forever"

Aegon almost ran away from the table, only turning back to Aemond to mouth fuck her, making Aemond roll his eye in annoyance.

You twirled around with Halaena until the song ended, your experience of the Red Keep so far had only been good, although perhaps if they had parties like this every evening it would be even better. There was nothing better than a hot, drunken party to loosen up the average gentleman.

At this point you were a few wines deep, having a great time and once the song ended, you raised your hands to clap for the band. Turning quickly, you picked up another goblet and bought it to your lips, letting out a happy sigh as you leaned against the wall, watching as people ramped up for another dance. In the distance, your father was dancing with a widowed lady, smile wide with glee and it made you giggle to see him drunk.

You stood there for a moment to people watch before feeling a tall presence next to you, being slightly disappointed it wasn’t someone else.

“Evening, Lady Highgreen”

Internally, you rolled your eyes but forced a smile to come across your face.

Ser Tyland Lannister. There was no doubt in your mind what he wanted, he had taken no wife and had no children. His actions as of now were as clear as they could have been without him saying anything. He was a good decade your senior, but even when you were a child he bought it upon himself to isolate you from the other older children, were it not for him, they might have found it in their hearts themselves to be your friend. But he was a bored, single, twenty-something year old at the time, so pleased him to no end to see another creature in suffering.

“Ser Tyland, it has been years” you feign interest in some information from the past few years, his eyes widened with glee as if seeing something shiny,

“Yes, my Lady and how you have grown and, if I may be so bold, what a beauty you have become”

You raised your eyebrows, taking a sip from your goblet, emitting a small hm in response, finding it difficult to hide your disinterest. However, Tyland being Tyland did not pick up on the hint and moved closer, forearm leaning on the wall next to you. His lids looked heavy and he himself looked about ten glasses of wine deep.

"I hear you are in the company of Queen Halaena's ladies" he started leaning in closer, you instinctively moved your head away, a whisper of a grimace on your face, "Perhaps we may run into each other more often" he said lowly.

You opened your mouth to give some kind of charming quip back but before you could, a large hand had been placed on Tyland's shoulder in a fake friendly manner pushing him away.

"Prince Aemond" Tyland had his eyes wide open now, with a hint of fear that he had done something wrong. Aemond rounded him, now stopping to place himself in between the two of you, the fear on Tyland's face enough to make you bite your lip to stomach a laugh.

"Allow me a moment with the Lady, Ser Tyland" Aemond almost barked the command at him, so much so he may as well have told the Lord to fuck off.

Tyland with a messy bow of the head to you and the Prince shuffled away embarrassed, Aemond watched him walk away with his tail between his legs, turning back to give you a look as if to say thank me later.

You smiled up at the Prince in thanks, heart beating faster as he took his spot at your side where Tyland had been. The air immediately felt different with his presence, it felt calm but at the same time electrified, as if the Prince had plenty to say to you.

"I apologise for my brother's behaviour" Aemond said, you raised your eyebrows with a smile, pulling the goblet of wine from your lips to lick the wine there.

"On the contrary, my Prince, I was surprised to find him quite cordial. Despite his attempts to hide his surprise"

Aemond smiled, "His surprise?"

You cock your head in feigned annoyance, a smile still evident on both your faces, "Oh let us not pretend, my Prince-"

"Aemond" he interrupted, hands placed behind his back, clasped together with a faint nervousness. Perhaps he had not expected you to have changed quite this much.

"Aemond" you respond and he could not help but stare at the way his name passed your lips and the way you licked the wine from them every time you took a sip, "Let us not pretend that you are both not surprised at how I have turned out. Rightly or wrongly, I was a shy, reserved child, I am surprised you remember me at all"

"Rightly or wrongly it does not matter" he said quicky, surprising you, "You did not deserve that extent of childish bullying"

There was a pause and a silence in the air now, the laughing and music of the room becoming muffled for a split second as you observed each other. Your eyes scanned his body before returning to his gaze, you were not the only one who had changed.

"I confess, I remember very little of you…" he started, his gaze flicking to the floor every now and then as if in shame, "…and I do hope that I never said anything that would have offended you, my Lady.

It is no excuse that I only feel saddened by your situation having lost an eye of my own, knowing how cruel people, especially children, can be.

If it is any consolation, I never understood why you suffered the ridicule that you did" Aemond realised that he had been pressing his thumb harder into his palm behind his back the entire time, heart beating out of his chest with nervousness. Was the truth inside him that he craved forgiveness? That he felt bad he could not remember if he had offended you or not?

The pause hung in the air for a moment, and you gave him a small, albeit sad smile, nodding your head, knowing exactly what he wanted to say, "Thank you, Aemond…" you trailed off, placing a hand on his tense, leather clad arm, "…and for what it is worth, you never said anything like that to me.

On the contrary, I saw you read many history books, conveniently left on the pages of Princess Alyssa. She had the same condition, did she not?" you smiled, his eye met yours, but his emotion was difficult to read. You squeezed his arm, sensing that perhaps he did not like to be touched and pulled away, tucking your arm back underneath the other to take a sip of wine.

"I thought it quite beautiful" Aemond answered suddenly, not wishing to meet your eyes as he said this he feigned interest in the dancing crowd, but he missed the smile you hid beneath the rim of your goblet.

You pushed yourself off the wall to stand in front of Aemond now, looking up at him, he had no choice but to look down at you now.

"There is no need for defences now. I am happy" you say, letting that hang in the air for a moment. After a moment, Aemond allowed a small smile to pass. The air felt charged and you swore if you were to touch with skin, you would feel a burst of energy between you, but perhaps it was just your heart hammering in your chest.

The music suddenly changed to a slow stringed ballad, and you turned to see everyone had broken out into couples, you couldn’t help but smile as Halaena pulled Criston Cole into a dance against his will.

"Shall we?" Aemond asked, hand outstretched to take yours. You licked the wine off your lips and placed the goblet down on the table, letting your hand glide into his. You were right, you felt the energy between you as skin touched, hairs on your arm stood on end as you met his gaze once again and you found yourself wanting to know what was going on inside his head.

Hand in hand, you turned to make your way into the crowd, laughing lowly to yourself as Aemond stood tall amongst them, unable to disguise his height. You felt a ghost of his other hand at your waist, resting at the waistline of your dress as your own arm came to his shoulder in preparation for the dance.

You looked at your feet first before looking up at him, beginning to sway with the slightly slower music, a perpetual smile on your features as you stared back up at him.

"I forgot to thank you for ridding me of Tyland Lannister earlier" you say, he shook his head in dismissal.

"Tyland Lannister approaches anything that has a heartbeat. In fact, even now I see he has already moved on"

You stifled a laugh, "Let me see" you said quietly. Laughing lowly, Aemond twisted around as if you two were dancing to allow you to see what he had. In the corner of the room, Tyland Lannister was badgering your own father, sloppily drinking down more wine so that it ran down your face. It was not even the situation that made you laugh, but the look on your father's face of pure disgrace, a man who always wore a smile on your face.

You accidentally let a laugh loose which caught the attention of your father, who upon catching your gaze smiled widely as he realised who you were dancing with. You rolled your eyes and returned your gaze to Aemond who was already staring down at you longingly.

"Excuse me, I originally thought he approached anything with tits but it does seem like the standards have dropped somewhat" you reply, making Aemond himself stifle a laugh.

"Do not do yourself the disservice, my Lady. Any man who does not approach someone like you is a fool" Aemond said, like word vomit it just came out and he caught himself just as he said it. He felt like his brain was working a mile a minute and the tension it created caused him to grip onto your waist a little tighter, something that did not go unnoticed by you.

"How very forward of you" you respond, voice lower now. You saw his eye narrow slightly, becoming darker with a feeling that was not there before, "If I knew any better, my Prince, I would say any woman not to approach you is also a fool"

Your movements slowed somewhat, there was a different, heavy feeling now, but not a feeling either of you disliked. You could see how his gaze was focussing on all aspects of your face, hanging longingly on your lips most of all and then your eyes. You could not help but do the same to him, wordlessly studying every part of his features. The way his thick hair swayed with the movements of your dancing, the way his pupil had become larger and the violet ring around it shining brightly. As if he had been made by the Gods themselves, his face was angular, masculine with sharp angles, all you wanted to do was drag your hands across them.

You watched intently as Aemond seemed to lean down, closing his eye, the smell of your perfume invading his senses. His grip on your dress at your waist tightened and you realised now that he was annoyed at the fabric, tugging at it, as if wanting to see what had been beneath it this entire time.

You had only closed your eye for a moment before you heard him whisper against your ear, feeling his hot breath against your flushed neck and exposed skin of your shoulder. You thought you could relish in this feeling, his chest now achingly close to yours, and if you had pressed against him, you would have felt his stiffness bury into your leg.

"I cannot kiss you with your father in the room" he said quietly, "There are many other things I would rather do" pulling away slowly but still staying close, closer than he had been before as if wanting to drink all of you in.

You simple smile back at him, eyes glazed over in a new found desire.

"Like what, my Prince"

You could see his chest rise and fall in a deep breath, as if desperately trying to control his emotions.

"At your behest, I happy to demonstrate"

You could not help the feeling that took over you. You were acutely aware of where his hands were now, how he touched your hand and his thumb that was caressing it. How he fisted the cloth of your dress at your waist in need. How his broad and wide body seemed to envelop you completely. All of this sent a warm feeling that settled in your abdomen.

You realised that the slow dance has ended, and a new, joyful song had begun, you turned to the people in the room who were all jumping now hand in hand. You looked back at Aemond, smiling, "You don't strike me as the type to dance to this music"

Aemond seemed to playfully shake his head, "You would be correct in that assumption" he answered, making you laugh.

Halaena bounded up to you, taking your now free hand, a wide grin on her youthful face, "y/n! This is the last song, will you come dance with me"

Halaena seemed to look between you, seeing how close you were to one another and sent a smile to her brother. Aemond nodded and bought your other hand to his lips and kissed the delicate skin there, "Y/n" he simply said as he started to turn away.

"Brother, do not leave! You are more than welcome to watch!" Halaena said, making Aemond stop in his tracks, hands behind his back. He simply stood there smirking at you,

"Alright then" is all he answered.

You kept your eyes on him the entire time as you allowed Halaena to pull you into the crowd, only then engaging in the powerfully joyful dance. You jumped, skipped, laughed and danced, the hour was late and you were several glasses of wine deep, but you had never felt more alive. The room was warm with candlelight, hot with bodies. As you spun around, clapping at the music, your eyes landed on Aemond leaning against the wall, giving you a slow clap. And you just knew that he had been watching you the entire time.

It was true, Aemond had watched you dance your heart out with his dear sister. Watching as you laughed, clapped, and turned the most glorious shade of pink at your cheeks. His hands gripped at one another, feeling as if his stomach were doing backflips, not used to this genuine feeling deep inside his chest. Watching you enjoy yourself was almost as good as anything else.

And when your eyes finally met after the dance, he nodded his head to you in goodnight.

#prince aemond #Aemond x Reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond the Kinslayer #aemond one eye #aemond fluff #hotd fanfic #hotd fluff #house of the dragon #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut

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skzhua · 2 months

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a price i'm willing to pay | part 20 - doughnuts.

MASTERLIST

pairing: ceo!bang chan x entrepreneur!reader

genre: social media!au, arranged marriage, fake relationship, fluff, angst.

warnings: swearing, might have suggestive bits.

summary: following a scandal threatening the survival of your business, you have no choice but to associate yourself with a competitive company.

What happened last night? The events could be told in a short summary or in a thirty pages story.

It started after you had texted Chan to come and when you had just arrived at Wonhee's apartment. You still weren't sure why you asked him in such a desperate way for him to come but something in you wanted him around. Maybe it was because of the way he managed to get your mind off things in those silly dates every week. A part of it might also be how calm you had become to each other with time. As much as you hated to admit it, you were quite grateful to have him in your life. Especially considering the circumstances.

To no surprise, you were the first one to be greeted by the messy living room that had clothes and junk scattered around. Your sister was never one to clean a lot. As long as she found what she needed, it was not a necessity. That always came in contrast with Minho's tidiness of things.

"Long day?" you asked when she yawned loudly.

"Tell me about it... I like my job but my boss is always giving me these documents to send off when he can do it himself. I'm not his assistant, I shouldn't be doing this technically."

The job was temporary supposedly. Nonetheless, she was starting her fourth year as an assistant manager in a quaint clothing store.

"I've been telling you to work for me instead."

"I love you, sweetie, but you can barely provide for yourself if you don't marry Chris Bang."

"Alright, I'll take that," you laughed out.

Nearly twenty minutes passed until Jeongin and Minho arrived. Wonhee being Wonhee, she had already passed out on the couch in the comfort of her warm blankets. You let the men get settled and stayed by your sister's side for a while before Jeongin extended a white plastic bag to you. The two men had brought snacks of all sort to eat for the night. There were ramen bowls, candies, chips, soda bottles, even fruits that Minho had kindly cut beforehand. As you and him began to clear the coffee table to make space for the food, Jeongin looked around the room with a puzzled face.

"Do you really think Changbin went to his childhood home?" he questioned, obviously doubting what his friend said about his whereabouts.

The room became silent as you stared at one another. This was the fourth time Changbin didn't come to one of your hangouts. As much as you didn't want to doubt him, he had been behaving oddly since you announced you were marrying Chan. You knew this had nothing to do with jealousy as there was no way you were remotely interested in him. However, the more time passed, the more you began to believe it.

"His loss," Minho shrugged and then continued with placing the food items in front of him.

"Did he tell you anything, Y/N?"

You shook your head much to his disappointment. Before the ambiance could get any sadder than this, you began to look for a film to put on the screen. A historical drama was Jeongin's choice and he settled comfortably as he opened a bag of pretzel chips. Quite frankly, you paid little to no attention to what was going on between the two characters in the film. Instead, you kept looking at your cellphone every passing second. You swore Chan confirmed he would be there already. Thoughts began to flood your mind and you spiraled into thinking the absolute worse. While Minho was too immersed in the proximity he was sharing with Wonhee, Jeongin noticed immediately your shaking figure.

"Are you cold or something?"

You stared at him, uncertain if you should answer truthfully. You were about to speak when the buzzing sound of the doorbell interrupted you. You put the blanket that laid on your legs aside and were quick to answer.

"Yes?" you spoke in the speaker.

"Y/N?" Chan said.

You didn't need any more information and you pushed the button to let him in. As much as it felt like an action you did on the regular basis, it resulted to a frantic Jeongin rushing to your sides.

"Don't tell me you invited Bang here?"

"What?" Minho whispered to not wake Wonhee up. "Why would you do that? Voluntarily?"

"Yes," you answered sheepishly.

"Since when?" Jeongin asked, his voice much louder to which Minho answered with a glare.

"I don't know, we get along now. Is it that much of a surprise?"

Minho smirked. "No. He's welcomed here anytime."

"Who are you to say this? You don't live here."

"I might soon if Wonhee finally lets me be your brother-in-law."

Just when Jeongin was starting to run to Minho with an annoyed grunt, a soft knock was heard throughout the whole flat. Your two friends looked at you with encouraging smiles while you stood there, frozen. The knock came again. Finally, you opened the door slowly, only peeking your head out at first. When you saw Chan in sweats and a hoodie that was clearly too large for him, you felt your face heat up the slightest. He has never looked so casual in front of you and you honestly loved it.

"Am I late to the party?" his voice broke you away from your staring.

"Not at all, the film only began."

When you let him inside, a frown appeared on his face. "Your sister is sleeping already?"

"Don't question it," Minho said as he rubbed her arm. "She had a long day."

Chan chuckled — which somehow sounded like the most beautiful thing you had heard in your entire life — and went on to put what he brought on the counter. "I didn't think you'd have so many snacks already but I have pastries."

"What kind?"

"Mochi doughnuts."

You quirked an eyebrow. "What the hell is that?'

His eyes widened. "I knew you had no cultural knowledge but to that extent?"

"Alright, I'm sorry I don't know my doughnuts," you huffed.

"You have to give it a go."

"Maybe later. Come, join us."

Jeongin gladly scooched over the edge of the sofa to leave you two enough space. As much as he tried, it was still not enough to let you have room for yourself without having half of your body on top of Chan's. Upon noticing your poor attempt at finding a comfortable position, he sighed heavily in discouragement.

"Just come here," he motioned to himself, opening his arms out as to invite you to cuddle up.

"In your dreams," you scoffed.

"I swear I'm comfortable."

You glanced over at Jeongin and he was no help when he answered with a shrug. He was visibly more focused on the gummy bears he was consuming. With a shy nod, you allowed yourself to fall onto his body as you got wrapped around by his strong but somewhat soft arms. You moved around for a while to find the right way to sit but he sighed again.

"You're stiff, just relax."

"I am relaxed."

"Y/N."

His hands moved from the side of your arm to your cheek. Gently, he made you look at him and you swore you felt your stomach flip upside down. In an instant, your limbs relaxed and you fell perfectly into Chan's embrace. He detached his hand from your face — much to both your relief and your dismay — and laid the blanket on both of your bodies.

"What did I miss?" he asked to Jeongin as if nothing.

You were baffled at how at ease he was conversing with your friend while you couldn't help but wonder if he could feel your heart pound like crazy.

Almost two hours later, you were still as flustered and still in Chan's arms. You didn't dare to move, afraid the slightest movement would bother him. The two other men were deep asleep and, at that point, neither of you were interested in the movie.

"Doughnuts?" he suddenly said as he paused the film.

The credits stayed still on the television but you kept your eyes on it. His face was dangerously close to yours, you were well aware of it. Before you could make a wrong move, you got off him carefully to not bother your sleepy friends. As for him, he stared at you expectedly for an answer. You finally nodded and he cracked a smile before walking up to the white box laying still on the counter. Your gaze followed his actions and accidentally moved down to his forearms and he had just rolled his sleeves up. Again, you had to snap yourself out of it and focus back on the pastries he was now taking out of their package.

"Macha?" he offered and you gladly took the doughnut from him.

"What's yours?" you asked, pointing to the blue-coloured one he had in hands.

"Blueberry."

You said nothing. But your eyes remained on the food. A little too intensely. And Chan saw it.

"We can switch, here."

You grinned successfully and lost no time in biting into the soft baked good. It was sweet and soft, melting perfectly into your mouth. You barely could restrain yourself from letting out a surprised gasp from the taste.

"I really can't believe you never ate one of these," Chan commented while chewing.

"Well, you've created a monster now — this is delicious!"

He chuckled lightly at the sight of you taking more bites, messily wiping the corner of your mouth in the process. The remainder of the box was eaten in silence other than a few more gasps from your part. You offered yourself to get rid of the trash as part of the "thank you" you indirectly wanted to tell him. In the meantime, he pulled more boxes from the plastic bag he had brought originally which made you widen your eyes.

"More doughnuts?"

"Sadly, no," he responded in a disappointed tone. "Do you want bagels, though? I have this sudden craving."

Because of having been over at Wonhee's place so often, it was easy for you to locate the toaster while Chan cut the bagels in two. It was strange how cozy this was. It was almost like it was just one of those days where you'd stay late at night with your partner, doing silly things to get yourselves to sleep. As much as it made you grin, there was an inevitable voice in your mind telling you to not fall for this. Your relationship is based on business. Your upcoming marriage is based on business. There would be a day where Chris would come up to you with the news he has found someone to share his life with.

These thoughts were dangerous.

"How many do you want?"

You hadn't realized you had been spacing out while standing in front of the toaster, looking at nothing in particular. Chan still looked at you expectedly for an answer after a few seconds passed with your body staying still.

"One, I guess," you managed to speak.

Chan nodded lightly but a doubtful frown made its way on his face. He set the bagels in place, turned the toaster on, and then grabbed you gently by the arms.

"There's something bugging you."

Duh, you wanted to say. "No," was what you answered instead.

He exhaled as he gave you a look telling you he wasn't believing you. "I know we are not so close to each other in terms of talking about our problems and all but, believe me, you can trust me."

You scoffed. "I hated you for nearly 10 years."

"Fair point," he hummed. "I am a good listener if you need one, though."

You bit the inside of your cheek. Until then, you still hadn't looked at him in the eye. When your gaze met his, the was a glint in his pupils — one so comforting that it told you he was being sincere. You had missed on noticing how kind his eyes were when he smiled. You had also never quite checked how much taller than you he stood besides the fact you had been close to his body on many instances. And it was the first time you felt somehow aware of your looks in front of him.

"You don't have to say a thing, obviously," he reiterated in fear you might have interpreted it as too insistent.

He let go of your arms but you quickly grabbed his yourself to keep him near you. "Our marriage."

This took him by surprise and he opened his mouth slightly, unsure on what to say at first. He hadn't even thought you would open up to him, even less about whatever you had going in your mind towards your marriage.

"Yes?" he encouraged you to continue.

"Don't sleep around while we're married."

You wouldn't be able to explain why you felt this way or why you had the need to request this from him. It was a miracle you even gathered the strength to let it out — though not a lot of strength was required as it had mostly slipped out of your mouth.

"I wasn't planning on it either," he assured with a small chuckle. "It would be stupid to put ourselves in a situation where cheating allegations can-"

"Not for that," you stopped him which confused him. "I just don't want you to."

His breath hitched. "I won't."

Your body moved on its own and you pulled him closer. His eyes stayed on your lips for a few seconds before he gulped. Both of your breaths suddenly quickened from how close your faces were to one another.

"Can I request the same?" he said lowly.

"Yes."

"If you're my wife, you should know it means you are mine, no?" he almost said in a growl.

Your brain short-circuited for a moment. In all of the things he could have said, this was not on the list. It was almost offending you how he said it, but it also made him all the more attractive. Especially when he spoke with like this.

"You want me to be yours?" you whispered.

"Do you really think I've actually hated you all these years?"

What he insinuated with this was painfully obvious. So much, you denied to believe it. In no existing world was Christopher Bang Chan ever interested in you. If he didn't hate you, it was no liking for sure.

And you were right, he did dislike you as much as you. Maybe not hate, but there was no interest of getting along with you. What changed was the hours on end you spent with each other either working or on fake dates. Hours of watching you in your natural element being the most authentic person he knew. And how you began to let your guards down and let him catch a glimpse of your actual person — not the one who hated his guts — made you seem so much more attractive. For that, he did hate you.

He hated how accustomed he grew of your presence. He hated how your smile became the thing he looked forward to see every Tuesdays. He absolutely despised how jealous of Changbin he was for getting to take care of you as if you were the purest soul on Earth. He hated it so much, he had to call the fake relationship off. And without thinking, the moment he knew he could come to your rescue, he lost no time in doing so. Hence the marriage. Hence why it was taking everything in him to not attack your lips with his.

"Chan," was all you could find to say.

"Believe whatever, I don't care, but I really want to kiss you right now."

The need in his voice was desperate. You found yourself enchanted by the way he had smoothly moved his hands to your hips — suddenly aware of his touch — and mesmerized by how pretty he was besides the fact it was almost pitch black in the apartment. Without answering his request, you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into what was intended to be a gentle kiss. However, this was not enough on his part and he hungrily kissed back, so roughly that you could barely keep up with his pace.

His lips were moving so naturally, you could tell he had experience. It made the whole thing more thrilling which made you yearn for him a lot more. Your grasp around the back of his neck grew firmer while his hands were roaming all over your body. They moved down from your hips to your ass and began to massage them in a way that both hurt and made you gasp. Naturally, you jumped to wrap your legs around him and he held onto your thighs for support. He carefully put you on top of the counter where you heights met.

"I still hate you," you said breathlessly between kisses. "So fucking much."

You bit his lips when you felt the grin form on his mouth. He gasped in his turn and clutched onto your waist so hard, you squirm under his touch.

You would have done something as a payback if it wasn't for the horrid smell of burnt reaching your nostrils. All of the sudden, you remembered of putting bagels in the toaster for far too long.

"Shit," you mumbled, pushing Chan aside to get to the black burnt pieces of food.

You rushed to get one of your sister's perfumed candles and lit it up for them to get rid of the scent. You were lucky it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"Y/N," Chan finally said once you were done with taking care of the problem.

The realization hit you hard upon noticing the red-ish marks you had left on his neck. The swell on his lips was another proof of the makeout session that occurred only minutes ago. Who knows what would have happened if the bagels didn't burn...

"It's getting late, you can take the last spot on the couch."

Visibly disappointed by your dismissal of the situation, he still nodded in agreement. "Where will you sleep?"

"Wonhee has a guest room."

You stayed in the kitchen for a couple more minutes, not saying a word. Chan was the first to leave while muttering a short "good night".

But you did not have a good night.

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russellsppttemplates · 3 months

Text

Time off the track (Lance Stroll)

Lance and Y/N enjoy having a long weekend off

Note: english is not my first language. I get all fluttery when I write these pieces! Had some trouble finding friends names (they're very private, and I respect that) so I just made up my own.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Sweetheart", Lance called from his spot on the sofa once he heard you arrive back home from work. "In a minute, just need to take these things off my feet", he heard you chuckle before the small creek from the cabinet where you stored your shoes.

"I'm here!", you walked inside, Lance's eyes doing his overall check-up. He didn't notice he was doing it until Henry pointed it out for him in the last race weekend you went to, but apparently the minute you showed up after being somewhere out of his sight, your husband's eyes checked you out from head to toe, looking for any signs of discomfort and then focusing on your babybump, usually bringing a smile to his lips.

"Sit here, I want a cuddle while I tell you my suggestion", he opened his arms, letting you wiggle around and into a comfortable position.

"Oh, what suggestion?", you wondered after you pecked his lips.

"The guys want to have spend the next weekend doing something fun together. It's a long weekend and it would nice spending time together", he explained, hand coming up to your bump and rubbing the skin under the cotton fabric of your shirt.

"That sounds good, actually. A weekend away that doesn't involve racing", you mumbled.

"There's actually a race, still. They want to go to Texas and watch", Lance offered, not wanting to keep you in the dark.

"What I meant was you wouldn't be racing, so we will be travelling all together and I have you to myself still", you wiggled your eyebrows, "and Texas is a really good idea, me and baby have been craving BBQ", you smirked.

"Other than seeing the race, we can just explore the area a bit, see what comes up and what people recommend we do", Lance added, "it will be good to take a few days off".

"Yes, enjoy the sun, good food, good company. Sounds good to me", you smiled sweetly, kissing his cheek and carrying on talking about each of your days.

The group consisted of you, Lance, Anna and her partner Michael, Mark and his wife Evie, Benjamin and Theo, arriving on time like scheduled to the airport, "how are we all feeling on this fine early morning?", Benjamin was the first to speak once you found yourselves by the gate.

"Could've done with a little bit more sleep, if I'm honest", Evie groaned into her husband's shoulder, "but otherwise very excited".

"Me too! Can't wait to feel some sun in my face", you smiled, taking off your jacket since you were feeling hot and giving everyone a show of your baby bump.

"Oh, it's so cute, Y/N! You look great!", Anna gasped, hands in front of her mouth as she got closer to you, "you're glowing!".

"And I also have these sexy things", you lifted your pants to show the compression socks the doctor recommended you wear whenever you boarded flights. You always travelled in comfy clothes, having learned over the years that any other way was simply not the way to go, so you had on a loungewear tracksuit, the flowy pants matching the equally roomy sweater.

"Doctor's orders?", she wondered and you nodded, "I already have issues as it is before getting pregnant, so it wasn't like I didn't expect it. You get used to them after a while", you said, checking to see if everyone was ready to walk to the plane once they checked your passports.

"Would you like something to drink before we take off?", the flight attendant wondered, taking orders from everyone, "could you please get us a bottle of water?", Lance asked, knowing you would forget about it.

"I was going to drink it", you teased, accepting the cup and drinking its content, "I remember what the doctor said", you smiled.

By the time you had been flying for a quarter of the expected time for the whole flight, you got up, walking along the small corridor while rubbing your bump.

"Is this a runway competition? Because we don't stand a chance when you look like that", Theo hyped you up, making you giggle as you exaggerated your walk for a few seconds before feeling your daughter kick.

"Doctor said to keep moving, since the socks can only do so much, and she's been kicking like crazy", you added, tapping the spot over your bellybutton where she seemed to kick harder.

"Hey! If she's kicking, I get privileges!", Lance called, making you stop in front of him as he places his palm where your hand was.

"Do you guys want to go get ready for the pool? I don't feel like doing much else today", Anna suggested, earning nods from everyone before you split into your rooms.

"Lance!", you called, seeing your husband come back from the balcony, "I think I need help taking these off, I can't bend properly", you blushed, not feeling strong enough to pull the socks away from your legs.

Chuckling, he bent down, kneeling on the floor so he could help you, massaging the skin and kissing your calves, "do they feel good?", he asked.

"Thank you", you groaned, wiggling your toes, "yes, it's a nice feeling, I might actually take these up after little one joins us, but they're a pain to get out", you offered, kissing his forehead and helping him get up, "let's go and enjoy the sunny day!", you cheered.

After getting ready, you met the rest of the group by the pool, the guys already in the water while the girls preferred to stay in the sun.

"Are you going us or joining them?", Michael wondered, "I'm going in the water, I've had enough of cold, gloomy days", you said, finding the steps so you could ease into the water. Taking off the cover up and throwing it to your chair, everyone's eyes travelled to your uncovered bump.

"Come here", Lance stretched his arms and beckoned you to approach him, chest and hair dripping wet since he had jumped in. Wrapping your arm around his waist, his right hand went to your bump immediately, "does he ever unlatch from your bump? Or is he always keeping his girls within arm reach distance?", Benjamin chuckled. It was all friendly banter and he was genuinely happy for his friends.

"A good mix of both", you confessed, "It's all new territory and we're going through all of this together. Besides, I've been feeling very clingy and wanting to start nesting, so I'm probably the one attached to him", you blushed.

"I want to float for a bit, your sister said that the best thing she did for her back pain when she was pregnant was relieve the pressure by being in the water", you held your husband's hand, getting ready to let yourself fall on your back.

"We're standing by here just in case you start sinking down like a nail", Mark noted with a giggle, making the boys do a circle around you and Lance as you kicked your legs up.

After a few moments of finding your balance, gravity and all things physics worked as your bump and chest rose up, poking out of the water while you floated, "Y/N! This is such a cute pick! Little one with all her uncles protecting you both!", Evie exclaimed, getting her phone and snapping a few pictures at the moment.

"Now move away, I want to snap a few of just Y/N, she looks glorious", she complimented as the boys swam away, "gorgeous, mama, absolutely gorgeous".

"It feels good", you moaned, "I feel so light weight, like, feather-light", you smiled when you saw Lance look back at you, "we can look into it when we go back home, anything to make you more comfortable, sweetheart", he said, kissing your lips before he held your ankles, moving your body as you giggled, not noticing Evie recording the video she claimed was "for when the little princess grows up and wants to know what love is". Her parents would be the best example and this one of the many moments to show it.

When you got back to the lounging chairs, carefully rubbing sun protection cream on before laying down, the boys started playing Padel in the court the house you rented had, shouts and groans heard while you and the girls got some colour on your skin.

"They're just little boys sometimes, aren't they?", Anna noted, seeing Lance and her boyfriend bicker about a foul.

"In some ways, I guess, but it's good they have eachother to spend time with, Goodness knows I won't play that", Evie sneered, "would you, Y/N?".

"What? Play Padel?", they nodded, "I've played with Lance before, with the other drivers and their partners. I'm not that great, but I'm not nearly as competitive as them, so I just play for the fun of it. Lance was kind enough to invite me out of it when he Charles were fighting for the first place in their Driver's Padel Championship", you chuckled.

"I love these dresses on you", Lance complimented, his hand grabbing yours and twirling you around, smiling when you faced him again and kissing your forehead.

"Thank you, my love", you added, seeing Michael return with the passes for the race, "we're all set guys, c'mon!", he nudged, handing everyone their pass before you walked to the entrance, a couple of photographers taking pictures and a group of fans asking Lance for autographs.

"That's where we will be", you pointed to the hospitality, walking in and choosing somewhere to sit. While you, Evie and Anna enjoyed this racing series, you were planning to stay on sofas while the boys were standing against the balcony railing so they could watch the race.

Throughout the weekend, you couldn't help but notice how Lance had been having so much fun with the boys, making a mental note to do these things more often when you had the opportunity.

He said something and loudly laughed, bringing your attention to him before your daughter made herself known, "it's daddy, I know", you smiled, rubbing your bump.

"She always kicks when he laughs?", Evie cooed, "My goodness, if you two don't stop being so cute, I'm next", she let out a groan.

"Yes, or when he speaks to the bump very closely. The books say she's able to recognise his voice, and it's very cute", you smiled, "although the bigger she gets, she'll soon start kicking my bladder".

"Wooo-ooh!", Lance said as you assumed the race was going well, looking back to check on you and blowing you a kiss.

The vineyard was truly stunning and, despite not taking part in the wine tasting for obvious reasons, you were having a great time.

"Are you also having lunch here? Our chef has done an excellent tasting menu", the young woman offered.

"We already have BBQ booked", Lance stated, "since my wife can't drink right now, we're giving her one of her pregnancy cravings. Maybe next time we visit", he nodded.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you were guided to the table, placing your things down and looking at the menu.

"Can you order for me, please? I really have to go to the bathroom", you wondered as Evie said she was going with you.

When the waiter came back, to the table, he started taking everyone's order, tapping on the iPad as they went along the table, "Can you just make sure the meat is cooked through, please? My wife is pregnant", Lance told the waiter, "absolutely, sir", before he left.

"You really get a kick out of it everytime you say she's pregnant, don't you?", his friend teased, "don't get me wrong, I think it's cute actually", Mark smiled.

"Of course I do, the woman I love is having our baby", Lance cooed, seeing you walk to the table back from the bathroom.

"And she looks incredibly gorgeous while she does it!", Anna said, "she's glowing, really. You guys are going to be such great parents, can't wait to meet the little princess".

"Neither can we, but soon enough", you smiled, accepting Lance's hand and holding it in yours, "soon enough".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff #lance stroll fluff

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victoria-grimesss · 6 months

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Astarion Headcanons

masterlist :)

-> Pairing: Astarion Acunin x GN!Reader/Tav

-> A/N: Just some cute things I thought of (Spoilers for Act 3)

He is touch-starved, although he has many past lovers he was not present for any of them, hiding within himself to complete the act, but when you two become closer he’s able to become more confident in himself and learn to enjoy a loving touch. And when he does become accustomed to it he can’t get enough. He would seek out your hands when traversing back to camp, he would hold you close and inhale the sweet smell of your hair after a close call in battle, he would hold you flush against him as he drank from you, all the emotions he wasn’t able to feel for over 200 years would be overwhelming but your touch would assure him all is well.

Depending on the length of your hair he would style it before bed each night, after living such a chaotic life of unease, he found the routine calming and it helps him end the day on a good note while getting to be close to you.

He loved the way you cared for everyone in the camp, checking on everyone after a trip and finally settling on him last to end the night by his side. He would admire you and your confidence and your words of encouragement to the group before bidding goodnight.

He loves the way you blush when he talks sweet to you. He knows he’s good looking and charming, obviously, but there’s something about walking to you, whispering a word or two in your ear and watching the blood spread from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. Especially if you’re speaking with others and end up sputtering on your words, he’s truly cocky after that. He could make a dictionary sound attractive.

He dotes on you frequently, especially once the two of you are settled in your own home:

Especially if you’re injured, although it happens frequently, at the beginning when you first recruited him, he didn’t care much. But as his feelings grew towards you he found himself offering help when you got hurt. Although he’s not much of a healer like Shadowheart and Halsin he still helps where he can. Although he will offer his unsolicited advice as he wraps the bandage around your arm saying how stupid it was to charge into that fight.... although you did look very attractive doing it.

All of those years waiting, hoping for a hero to save him, and here you are. To conquer what lies ahead together, from as big as a cult to as small as a nightmare you pave the way together and he could not be happier.

He truly loves fighting by your side. The spattering of blood that dons your clothes and across your face does happen to get him excited now and again. A few times on the trip after a particularly bloody fight he’ll usher you into the forest away from prying eyes to steal away some company time. (The group knows, Lae’zel definitely mentions it.)

He finds himself thinking about what lies ahead for the two of you. He never thought he’d have the opportunity of a future let alone with someone he cares about. But after you helped him kill Cazador and free those under his control he was still plagued with the memories he thought would disappear once he was slain but within those nightmares a ray of hope was always present. A thought of the two of you settling down just outside the city walls, perhaps with a cat. And when he shared these ideas with you and you agreed it would be very nice that’s what helped him carry on.

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x gn!reader #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #astarion headcanons #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #headcanon #i am addicted to baulders gate 3

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daisyblog · 6 months

Text

Little Break

Our Story Masterlist Summary: People find out that Harry and YN have broken up.

Celebrity Gossip Article

Harry Styles and YN Tomlinson have split after nearly seven years together

Harry, 24, began dating his bandmates sister YN, 24, in 2011 after the couple were pictured kissing at a party.

Fans were quick to speculate that Harry Styles has split from his influencer girlfriend, YN Tomlinson, when they noticed YN didn't attend the singers Live On Tour shows in Manchester or London.

The former One Direction member and YN report they are "taking a little break".

Harry, 24, began dating his bandmates sister YN, 24, in 2011 after the couple was pictured kissing at a party.

A source close to the pair said they split after almost seven years together is down to them having “different priorities and commitments that are keeping them apart”.

The source told Celebrity Gossip: "He’s still touring and is now going abroad. She is focusing on her family, work projects and her work in London".

"They’re still very close friends and will continue to support each other".

"They’re on a break. It’s impossible to have a relationship when he’s touring and YN has her work commitments in London and along with her brother and grandparents, care for her younger siblings".

Harry is currently preparing for the Australian leg of his tour while YN is planning to release her own company and clothing line at the end of the year.

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liked by 1Dfan, harryfan, and 76,875 others

harryupdates Harry and Anne in Perth today! View all 4,765 comments

ynfan He looks just as sad as YN 😥

1Dfan Anne is with him❤️ ⌞harryfan3 I bet she's just as sad x

1Dfan9 I want them back together!!!!! PLEASE!!

ynfan4 I can't take this anymore, I'm just devastated ⌞hater Grow up!! People break up all the time, they're no different!

louisfan Do you think Harry and Louis have spoken??

harryynupdate he's definitely been crying 😥😥😥

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1dupdates YN walking in London last night! View all 1,233 comments

ynfan She looks so sad 😥

1Dfan Why can't they just leave her alone, it's clear to see she's uncomfortable!!!! ⌞harryfan3 I feel so bad for her

1Dfan5 I'm gonna miss her and Harry together 😥😥😥

ynfan4 I haven't stopped crying since reading the article! ⌞harryfan8 Same!!!! I loved them together❤️❤️

1Dfan I don't believe in love anymore

larryfan It was never real anyway!

harryynupdate I wish this was all a joke😭

harryfan Looking for attention again! ⌞louisfan3 You're so unkind, she's literally walking through London

louisfan I want to give her a cuddle❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

---

YN read the article and now it felt real for her. She looked around their London home, photos of them together, with their families, all the furniture they had chosen together teased her.

She sat all morning on sofa, the tv playing in front of her, tears streaming down her face. For the first time ever, she felt alone. Sure, her family and friends, and even Harry's family and friends had checked in on her, but she felt lonely.

After mopping around and scrolling through her endless amount of photos of the her and Harry over the years, she decided she needed to be close to her Mum right now. So she packed up some of her things and headed back home.

YN's Instagram Story:

YN"s DMs:

I hope you're okay YN 💗

Are you and Harry getting back together?????

Are you going to share Teddy? 💙

Can't believe you broke up with Harry, you broke his heart 😠😠😠

You're ugly anyway! Harry did the best thing and dump your ass!!

lottietomlinson Hurry up sis! We're all waiting with your fav drinks and snacks! Love youuuuu💗💗💗💗💗

---

After driving home to Doncaster to her grandparents house, YN walked through the door with Teddy in her arms. She was surprised how quiet the house was considering all her sisters were here. She had found her Nan in the kitchen, waiting for her.

"Come here my love". Jen pulled her eldest granddaughter into her arms and the tears began to roll down YN's cheeks once more that day. "Shh..it's okay my darling".

"I just miss him Nan...and I miss Mum".

"I know darling...it's not going to be easy but you'll be okay". Jen tried to reassure her as she wiped the tears from her cheek with a tissue.

Trying to distract herself, she placed Teddy down onto the floor and watched him scuttle off into the other room. "Where's Grandad and the girls?".

"They've just gone for a walk..the girls got a little restless waiting for you".

Once the girls come back and smothered their oldest sister with cuddles and filled her in on all the drama of being young teenagers, they all cuddled up in the living room with pillows and blankets and watched all their favourite films. It was during this time that YN felt just at home, almost like she was a child again and hanging out with her siblings.

But it was later on that night when she was lying alone in bed, an empty space next to her, that the pain hit her again. Despite the distance that separated them the last few months and the disagreements they were having, YN still loved him.

She held her phone in her hand, hovering over his name. She wanted to hear his voice, even if it was just to say goodnight. She debated sending him a text. Just as she was about to change her mind and lock her phone, it pinged.

Harry It didn't feel right not saying goodnight to you. Goodnight, sweet dreams x

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @indierockgirrl @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @jerseygirlinca @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage

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bapple117 · 1 month

Text

Memory Reboot - A One-Sided Radiostatic One-Shot (Vox x Alastor)

Third person - Fluff, Pining, Angst - mild adult references

~ A03 Link ~ text is also included below after the break ~ excuse the crappy art ~

Summary: Every now and then, Vox allows himself a trip down memory lane; back to when he and Alastor were good friends. This night, Vox rediscovers an old bit of memorabilia that has him reminiscing, all about one night when he and the Radio Demon shared a drink or two. The memory is a bittersweet reminder of what could have been, and what almost happened; lips meeting for the sweetest of stolen moments.

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

Vox stumbles into his room, clumsy and heavy with drink. He bashes his head into the door as it rebounds; groaning, he rubs at his screen with a grimace.

Drinking alone is always a bad idea. With the other two Vees both out for the night, Vox had allowed himself a little more stalking than he usually does; drinking in his surveillance room, watching and rewatching clips of the Radio Demon going about his day. It’s obsessive; Vox knows it is. He still can’t help himself.

He teeters wildly on his legs now, looking through his belongings for some painkillers for the inevitable screen-ache he’ll have in the morning; where the fuck are they?!

Not a single drawer he searches yields any results. Vox tosses items left and right, searching through masses of cables and piles of clothes. He rifles through his bathroom cabinet, knocking down an assortment of pill bottles in the process; none of them what he needs right now.

“Fuck my life,” the Television Demon mutters to himself.

On his hands and knees, he pulls out a bottom drawer from a huge dresser. Vox moves sloppily with inebriation as he pilfers through all the junk and bric-a-brac. And then - his hand is on something that feels familiar yet forgotten all at once. Vox pulls it out; and there it is.

His electric heart shudders within his chest.

The tiny die-cast CRT TV model that Alastor had gifted to him years ago. So many years ago. So long ago, in-fact, that when Alastor had presented Vox with this small model, it had been exactly what Vox’s own head had looked like. A chunky, heavy, 70s television. Long outdated technology, these days, of course; Vox has upgraded several times over the years since then.

Vox can hardly believe his tired eyes; it’s been years since he thought about this. He remembers the night Alastor gave it to him all too well - too painfully well. Vox sighs; his sadness threatening to leak into the forefront of his drink-weakened mind.

The search for the painkillers now given up on and forgotten, Vox crawls to his bed and lays on it in the dark, the small metal totem still in his hand. Neon lights from the city outside dance and skitter on the walls. Vox stares at the ceiling.

He can’t help himself; the memory begins to play in his mind, like an old VHS recording, discovered and dusty. Vox usually represses these memories, but for some reason, he allows this one to consume his thoughts this night. He drifts off into it; a broken heart indulging itself despite the pain.

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

It’s the past. Long, long ago; some time in the 1970s. Vox is drinking with Alastor - the Radio Demon, his friend. They are drinking together in Alastor’s old apartment, sharing each other’s company in the easy way that they used to. The apartment is full of antique furniture and vintage radio paraphernalia; Vox has been here many times, and yet he always eyes Alastor’s decor with the same dry observations.

“You really need to get with the times, Al,” Vox says. “Get some more modern stuff.”

The Television Demon gawks at himself in an ornate mirror on the wall; his on-screen features blink back at him, set in his wide CRT TV head.

“Nonsense,” Alastor calls from the kitchen. “There’s nothing wrong with my decor choices. Some things never go out of style.”

Vox huffs in amusement to himself. Secretly, he adores Alastor’s presentation. Vox looks up to the Radio Demon; he admires him. Vox wants to be just like Alastor, really. Powerful, respected, smart, classy. Alastor is everything Vox wants to be. At this point in time, Vox is a much weaker Overlord than Alastor, having only been in Hell for less than twenty years. It’s never an issue between them, of course, but Vox knows he is inferior. One day, he’ll be better.

The Television Demon joins his friend in the kitchen then; Alastor is pouring new glasses of drink for them. Something expensive.

“Woah,” Vox says, laughing. “What are we celebrating?”

“Well, I was wondering when you’d ask,” Alastor says sassily. “I took down another one of my rivals today.”

Vox blinks. His screen buzzes.

“Another Overlord?” He asks, both impressed and appalled.

Alastor nods, pleased.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Alastor says, grinning. “It was no effort at all, really. Hardly worth you looking so gormless over. What fun it was though!”

Vox laughs nervously.

“Well, uh, that’s great, Al!” He says, accepting the drink. “You gotta promise not to ever try and take me down like that though, huh?”

It’s a weak joke; both demons know that it stinks of a true fear. Alastor scoffs.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Vox,” the Radio Demon says. “How long have we known each other now, hmm?”

Vox scans his memories to try and answer accurately.

“Uhhh… Well years,” he says. “Almost two decades.”

“Exactly. And have I ever once betrayed you?” Alastor asks, gesturing for them to sit at the table.

Vox follows Alastor’s lead and sits.

“I guess not,” Vox says.

The two demons sit in silence for a while; which is odd, given how prone to idle conversation they both usually are. Alastor hums along to a jazz tune playing in the background; Vox fiddles with his glass.

Alastor is deep in contented thought; eyes closed, a red claw tapping at the table to the rhythm of the song. Vox takes a gulp of his drink, still not knowing what it is; his question is answered as soon as it hits his throat. Some kind of very strong spiced rum, neat on ice. The Television Demon coughs a little, white noise filling the silence. Alastor grins.

Vox looks up at his friend then; sees his smile. His own grin creeps up on to his screen. How simple it is between them; how easy it’s always been. Just the two of them. Alastor doesn’t have many friends; Vox is honoured to be one of them. Friends. Vox wishes they were so much more.

“You know,” Vox says then, staring at his drink. “We could be something. Together, I mean.”

Alastor’s neck snaps a little as his head twitches to the side in confusion.

“Something?”

Vox hastens to clarify.

“You know. A team. Take down Overlords together,” he says.

Alastor seems to genuinely consider this for a moment; he drifts away into the thought of it. Vox lets himself hope for a second; his hopes are dashed just as quickly.

“Hmm,” Alastor says. “You know me, though! I prefer to work solo.”

Vox slumps a little. His work shirt sleeves are rolled up messily; one begins to loosen from its turn-up, so he focuses on re-rolling it.

“I know,” he says. “Doesn’t it ever get lonely, though?”

“I don’t think so,” Alastor says, amused.

“Oh.”

The Radio Demon ponders this for a beat longer; he senses he has insulted his friend somehow. This is meant to be a nice evening celebrating his latest victory; Alastor supposes he should show a little courtesy to keep things jovial.

“I suppose it does, sometimes,” Alastor says.

Vox feels his inner wiring twisting in his abdomen.

“Oh?”

Alastor rolls his eyes; must he elaborate?

“Well, I suppose having more allies couldn’t hurt,” he says.

“Oh, well,” Vox says. “I could… I could be that for you?”

Alastor grins.

“In your current state, I feel you may not be of any use to me, Vox old pal,” Alastor teases. “Come back to me when you’re stronger, hmm?”

The Radio Demon knocks playfully on the side of Vox’s clunky CRT head; it echoes within him. Vox knows that Alastor only means this as a cheeky gibe between friends; it wounds him all the same.

Vox lets out a nervous laugh as response and tries to conceal the hurt.

The night is salvaged somewhat; the two demons continue to drink into the early hours. They chat, they listen to music, they share stories about various occurrences in Hell. Despite the fact they are undying souls in burning eternity, they are also both something else; two beings who both died as young men, now frozen in time.

Alastor isn’t who he’ll truly be just yet; neither is Vox. In this memory, they are their younger, slightly sweeter selves. It’s enough to make present-day Vox cry with how much he’d give anything to have those days back.

Towards the end of the night, the two demons sit side by side together, wasted. They use the sofa as a backrest as they sit sloppily on the floor. Vox hiccups and it sounds like a channel being changed; Alastor laughs.

“You know,” the Radio Demon starts. “I do enjoy these little chats of ours, despite our conflicting technology.”

Vox is giddy; he nods, eager.

“One day I’m gonna be great, Al,” Vox says, suddenly. “I’m gonna build an empire. It’s gonna be huge.”

Alastor smiles; it’s the soft, fond smile of a friend humouring someone.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Vox says, slurring slightly. “And I’ll be as strong as you - no! - even stronger.”

Alastor is laughing; genuine and warm. Vox grins wide at the sound of it.

“I’ll take over all of Hell!” Vox says, clenching a fist.

Alastor chuckles.

“Hm. That sounds nice,” he says, drunk and feeling it.

“Well,” Vox starts. “You’ll be there with me, right?”

Alastor quirks his head.

“Will I?”

“Sure! We’ll do it together,” Vox says, wicked intent on his screened features. “We’ll rule Hell together. No fucker will cross us with our combined skills.”

Alastor is giggling; Vox wants to climb into the sound of it and live there.

“Well, that is a lofty concept, to be sure,” Alastor says. “But it is pleasing, I have to admit. You truly do get some devious ideas don’t you?”

“Fuck yeah I do!” Vox says, delighted.

Alastor smiles to himself, looking away.

“Well, if that ever comes to fruition, you can count on me being there,” he says.

“Yeah?!” Vox is beaming. “I can’t wait for what the future brings, Al. This old thing will be the first to get an upgrade, that’s for sure.”

Vox taps his own head; even now in the late 70s, his TV set head is looking a bit vintage. Vox just needs to wait for Earth technology to advance and filter down; he can’t wait to be better. Stronger. Faster. Alastor tenses as a thought seems to come to him.

“That reminds me!” The Radio Demon says. “I have something for you.”

Alastor retrieves something from his pocket and hands it to a captivated Vox; it's a tiny metal die-cast model of a Sony Triniton KV-1820UB television set. It looks just like Vox’s current head.

“Here you are,” Alastor says, pleased with himself.

Vox is enamoured; the Radio Demon doesn’t do gifts. This is special; it means Vox is special.

“Al, I don’t know what to say,” Vox says, his nerves alive and crackling. “I can’t believe you got this for me… I love it.”

Alastor grins wide.

“I got one for me, too,” he says, holding up a tiny model of an old radio. “I found a charming boutique selling all kinds of little novelties. Aren’t they fun?”

Vox is astonished; not only did Alastor get him a gift, he got one for himself to match. This surely is symbolic? Vox’s receivers are scrabbling to interpret the signals Alastor is giving off.

“Wow, yeah, that’s uh… That’s cute, Al,” Vox says, shakily. “It’s not like you to give gifts.”

Alastor laughs.

“Well. My conquest today put me in an especially good mood, I suppose,” he says.

Vox nods.

“Thank you, Al,” he says, screen blinking. “I will treasure this. I mean it.”

Alastor’s quota for sincerity has reached its limit; eager to return the conversation to playful jibes and gossip, the Radio Demon scoffs. Vox grins; he knows Alastor hates to be perceived as kind, despite the fact he can be. Vox shoves himself into Alastor’s shoulder in a playful bump.

“You’re goin’ soft on me, old man,” Vox jokes; Alastor pretends to be aghast.

“Old man?” He scorns. “How dare you, Vox. I only died two decades before you and we were both more or less the same age at death. Watch your tongue.”

Vox chuckles to himself. The two demons sit together for a little while longer in peaceful quiet; Vox’s mind is full of static. He’s processing, thinking. Vox has tried to broach this topic before, but he can’t help himself; he needs to push it again.

“Hey, uh, Al?” He says.

Alastor looks at him and hums an acknowledgement. Vox’s gaze shifts around nervously.

“Do you remember that… conversation, we had a while ago?” Vox says.

Alastor does remember; he pretends for now that he doesn’t. He shakes his head. Vox exhales shakily.

“Look, I, uh… I know you don’t like talking about… feelings, and stuff, but…”

Alastor wants this nipped in the bud as soon as possible.

“Is this about your infatuation, hmm?” The Radio Demon says, trying to sound casual about it. “I’ve told you Vox. It will pass, it’s just a-“

“No,” Vox says, urgent. “It won’t, Al, and you know it.”

Vox grabs Alastor’s hand; the Radio Demon doesn’t recoil. He lets his claws sit limply within Vox’s; a tiny concession for this display of vulnerability. And anyway; they’ve linked hands before, when dancing or fleeing a crime scene, or such. No big deal. Alastor sighs.

“You know I can’t give you want you want,” he says, radio filter slipping away. “This is all I can give you. My time. My friendship, my consort to you as a fellow Overlord.”

Vox is exasperated.

“Can’t you give me just a little bit more?” He asks.

Alastor avoids the Television Demon’s gaze.

“I don’t think so,” he says.

Vox grabs Alastor’s chin in his, then; pulling it in his direction to make Alastor look at him.

“How do you know you won’t like it?” Vox says. “You’ve never even tried it.”

Alastor blushes at the sudden contact, the intrusiveness of it. He’s flustered simply because Vox is being so forward; any sign of aggressive intent is entertaining to Alastor, of course.

“Why don’t you let me just try?” Vox says, his voice a thin whine.

“Vox, old friend, come on now-“

“Why won’t you let me just kiss you?” Vox whispers. “Please, Al.”

Alastor hesitates; if he relents, will it be enough to just shut Vox up about this once and for all? This topic cropping up every couple of years is getting tiresome. And... he does care about Vox. Alastor loves him, in his own way; platonic but true.

“Please, Al,” Vox murmurs, his eyes fixed on Alastor’s lips. “I’m begging you. I know it’ll feel right when it happens.”

Vox’s hand tightens around Alastor’s chin; he’s trying to pull him inwards. Alastor’s heart rate quickens; annoyingly. He’s a deer in headlights; drunk and unsure how to retaliate. Vox is closing the distance between their faces; Alastor can feel their hot breath exchanging in the small gap between their mouths.

Alastor’s ears are flat against his head; Vox is staring at his lips.

“Please,” he whispers again.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Alastor whispers back.

“Please,” Vox begs, desperate.

Alastor huffs in defeat, and Vox knows he has won. Vox leans in and presses his screen to Alastor’s mouth; for a moment, the Radio Demon is rigid. But then… his mouth is moving; Vox is elated. Alastor is relenting. Vox cannot believe it. Alastor is kissing him back; his hand at the edge of Vox’s screen. Their mouths move together quickly, the taste of rum amongst it all. Vox's mind is awash with joy.

Yes, YES. Fucking YES! This is it, this is IT!

Vox moans into Alastor’s mouth; he risks letting his tongue breech Alastor’s lips, tries sticking it down Alastor’s throat -

Alastor pulls away; Vox is devastated. Too far.

“Hmm!” Alastor says, recovering, trying to sound light-hearted. “No, still not for me, I don’t think.”

Vox is panting, red in the screen. He’s hard; of course he is. Vox’s eyes dart all over Alastor, looking for signs - proof that he did like it.

“No, Al, come on,” Vox says. “Please, you know it works, WE work, c'maaan!”

Alastor is sad; a part of him does wish he could give Vox what he wants. It would make things so much easier; it would ensure keeping his loyalty, for one. And… well. It would make things a bit less lonely. But Alastor just can’t let himself go there.

“I’m sorry, Vox,” he says, genuinely melancholy. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want from me. I really am.”

“No,” Vox is angry. “It cannot be like this, please, we were so close-“

“I think it’s high time we went to bed, hmm?” Alastor says. “You’re in no state to get yourself home. You can sleep on the sofa.”

“Al, stop, just, can we talk about this? Can we try again, I’ll go slower, I promise,” Vox says, grasping at straws.

Alastor smiles weakly. He reaches up and turns one of Vox’s dials fondly; Vox’s erection twitches in his jeans.

“You’ve just had too much to drink, hmm?” Alastor says. “We’ll sleep this off and tomorrow it’ll all be forgotten about.”

Alastor stands then; Vox groans, his screen in his hands.

“We’ll be back to normal tomorrow, eh, old pal?” Alastor says with forced jollity.

Vox sighs; it’s guttural. He looks up at the Radio Demon, agonised.

“I’m never going to be back to normal,” Vox says. “I’m always going to want this. I’m always going to want you.”

Alastor hesitates; he looks forlorn. Only in the eyes, of course; but his smile is a tight, thin line on his face.

“I know," he says.

Vox's heart shatters in his chest; not for the first time.

"Do try to get over it, though, won’t you?” Alastor says, and he turns to leave for his bedroom. “Get some sleep.”

Vox is left alone in the living room; ruined.

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

The memory of that night, so many decades ago, drifts away from present-day Vox, just as cruelly as Alastor had slipped from his grasp.

The pain of it - and indeed, remembering what came later - is unbearable; Vox can only cope with these memories now by wanting Alastor dead. Just so he’d be gone for good; just to rid himself of the pain of knowing Vox never got to keep him. He came close, of course; some years later, in the 80s. For a while, Vox had had Alastor; it had been so sweet. Vox doesn’t let himself think on this, for now. It’s too brutal. He’d be a mess; for now, he needs to compose himself. Vox places the die-cast vintage TV model on his bedside table and looks at it for a few beats.

I wonder if Alastor still has his radio model.

I wonder if he still thinks of me.

Vox curls into a ball in his bed; the truth hums around him, thick and heavy, like electricity in the air before a thunderstorm.

He’ll never love me like I love him.

He never did.

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

This story continues in:

Bluest Monday

Read all my stuff on AO3 🍎

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seleneprince · 2 months

Text

If Severus had been a girl, her story would have been mostly the same as canon, except that the Marauders maybe wouldn't have been so harsh with their bullying because "she wasn't a threat to James' crush on Lily" and "she's just a girl, girls are fragile". However, she would have still been in love with her and James knew that, so he still despised her, thinking she was holding Lily back from him.

Now unto my personal headcanons (because they fit and they make me happy):

- Fem! Severus wouldn't have shared a room with Mulciber and Avery, so she would have befriended her female roommates instead. I believe the fanaticism for the Death Eaters cult was more prominent in boys than girls, because society expected them to stay at home and raise more purebloods than participate in battles. However, she would've still hung out with them because they shared the same interest for Dark Arts.

-Her roommates would be Dorcas Meadow, Pandora Rosier (Evan Rosier's cousin) and Theresa Flint (the last one is an oc of mine)

- She would be a tomboy for the first few years, having her hair cut short and wear the male uniform instead of the female one. Partly because she's used to wearing boy clothes and partly to avoid embarrassing pranks from the Marauders. Due to this, she's often mistaken for a boy and fits in better with her male classmates.

- She knows wizards are more respected that witches, so she strives to imitate a masculine appearance to earn that (at first). It's not a case of "I'm not like other girls". She wants to survive.

- She's been infatuated with Lily since they met, but this crush wears off as Snape sees Lily's selfishness and hypocrisy. By the time their friendship is over, Snape is already disillusioned with her but still tries to hold into their old bond out of emotional attachment rather than love.

- She faced her own prejudice and hardships in Slytherin for being a poor half-blood, with a disgraced pureblood mother. She only earned her place when she showed off her talent and bested a few of her housemates. Basically, she had to win fights, physical and magical, against her own housemates until they deemed she deserved to be in Slytherin.

-In canon, Lucius took Snape under his wing and treated him like a brother in Hogwarts. In this, it's Narcissa who sees the potential in Snape and practically adopts her, and Lucius follows her example. Thanks to the older girl, Snape experiences nice clothes and good school tools for the first time. Narcissa is quite her sugar mommyl, but Snape is also her pet project.

- She's a bit of "one of the boys", although they're not really friends until fourth year. The boys were Mulciber, Avery, Wilkes and Rosier. They accepted her because they didn't really consider her a girl and they begrudgingly respected her skills. It was a mutual understanding that they used each other for their own benefits, Snape helping them with her intellect and spells while they helped her into getting assimilated with the other Slytherins. As they grew and got to know Snape beyond her blood status, they became protective of her and started to cherish her truly as a friend (althought Rosier took it to another level)

-Which brings us to my next headcanon. In my au, Rosier and Snape had a nice connection on first year when they sat together during History of Magic. He's one of the few that was welcoming of Snape since the start and always treated her like an equal. She's very fond of him because of it, and they grow to be very close friends.

-Regulus still looked up to her when they were students. He didn't trust her at first, because of her blood status and all, but seeing she had Narcissa's favour, he decided to look past it. And after witnessing her talent, he decided he wanted to learn more about her, so he began to follow her around to know her better. Snape was annoyed initially, but she eventually appreciated his company.

-She showed some genuine kindness to Barty Crouch Jr on his first year at Hogwarts, and the boy latched unto her like an eager puppy since then. That's how he befriended Regulus, with both of them following her around so often.

-They were both her little brothers, her precious babies, who couldn't do nothing wrong even if they tried. She was patient and permissive with them in a way she definitely wasn't with her other friends.

-She's the brain of the group, so she's usually saving their asses from the consequences of their actions (Mulciber, Avery and Wilkers) and helping them with their schemes (Dorcas, Rosier and Narcissa).

-In her desire to remain in Lily's life and have the girl's love, Snape repressed herself and kept her Slytherin friends at arms' length, which caused many arguments. When she and Lily had that fallout, Snape fully embraced her identity and, in return, her housemates embraced her too, as if they had been waiting for her.

-She was a natural Occlumens, unconsciously developing her ability while she learnt to mask her feelings and thoughts, product of the abuse and harassment she went throught.

-Her boggart used to be her father, Tobias Snape, but after "the prank", it became a werewolf instead.

-After what happened in the Shrieking Sack, she inmersed herself in researchs about lycanthropy and possible cures in order to forget her fear.

-When she experimented with potions, she tried them first on small animals, mostly rats and birds. Then bigger animals, like owls and cats. And lately, in the final phase of testing, she tried them on herself. Only her friends knew about this practise, since Snape made them promise to not tell a soul, since she didn't trust the Hogwarts staff to be understanding about it.

-When something goes wrong on the final test, she heals in the privacy of her bed while her friends take care of her, lying to the teachers that she's sick. They dread this practise of hers, since they can't stand seeing her in pain, but also had mad respect for her because of it.

-She was a control freak, obsessively cleaning and arranging her stuff with systems only she understands. She always knew when someone touched her things, just by seeing them moved the slighest bit to the different position she left them. Her housemates knew better than disrupt her order.

-Her talent with potions surpassed even Slughorn himself, but he preferred to praise Lily because her looks and attitude fit more in his club. He came to regret that decision years later, but Snape knows how to keep grudges.

-She considered Mulciber, Avery, Dorcas, Pandora, Rosier, Regulus and Barty her closest friends within Slytherin. The rest were just acquaintances. She was also close to Aurora Sinistra, from Ravenclaw, and Charity Burbage, from Hufflepuff.

-She and Charity danced around the lines separating friendship from romance for a while, but Snape wasn't ready for that step and Charity moved on. They remained good friends.

-She was a raging bisexual, because obviously.

-She didn't support the Death Eaters' beliefs, but she really looked up to the figure of Lord Voldemort. A poor half-blood like her, who paved his way to the top of the hierarchy with his charms, wit and power, making all the pureblood families submit to him. He was everything she aspired to be, everything she wanted to have. However, she soon realized her vision didn't exactly match reality...

And that's all. I have more but I wrote too much already. I'm on a hyperfixation, so I'll definitely write more about her in the future.

Feel free to tell me your own ideas or headcanons. I'll love to discuss them.

Tagging @love-the-purple-cat because she's also a fem! Snape stan. She has an amazing au, so go and check her!

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swimming-karyss · 8 months

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ASL!

This was drawn with sci-fi au in mind, but there is not a single thing that points towards it (except maybe clothes), so it's just them having fun out of context

a bit of rambling about (Sabo in) the au under cut

First of all, I have to say that I changed the timeline a bit(mostly because I can't let a 5-year-old living alone, ....and maybe to give asl more time to spend together), Sabo is from a wealthy family of the Goa kingdom. His parents planned him to be a spacecraft engineer (a respectable and well-paid job), and made him study for it since very young age. Eventually he was unable to bear high expectations, pressure&workload and being treated as a tool and means to raise the social status rather than a person. So he runs away when he's seven. He lives at the edge of the city, near the space port, because while his studies made him nearly despise spacecraft in general, he is still in love with the romance of travelling among the stars, so he's happy to have the opportunity to see space ships. As he enjoys his newfound freedom, he realises that he can go wherever he wants, and no one is here to plan his day by hours, and since he has never left the city Sabo decides that visiting the city outskirts would be a great first step.

This is where he meets Ace. Of course they don't even try to befriend each other at first. Both of them are somewhat antisocial but for completely different reasons. But eventually loneliness, curiosity and mutual love for the space adventures brings them together. And it's the first time in his life when Sabo doesn't regret all the time he spent studying, because oh boy! He has so much interesting things to share!! After a while Dadan&Rouge learn about him too. Rouge made it clear that Sabo is welcome to visit anytime he wants to keep Ace company. She also made it explicitly clear that they mustn't get in trouble with the law or attract too much attention, but otherwise are free to do whatever they want. So they spend 3 years exploring nearby forest, learning things about spacecrafts, and preparing for their future of space captains. They even try to make models of some space ships from random junk they find. (Although Sabo doesn't spend the whole year with the Portgases (? it should be spelled like that?) and goes back to the city for a month or two(and since mobile phones and internet connection exist they know he's doing more or less okay.) Once he meets Luffy there by accident, and then Makino as well. Luffy meets Shanks at 7, and after that he stays with Rouge for the whole summer, and he is finally able to befriend Ace. After a while Rouge decides to personally pay a visit to Makino, and it becomes clear that ASL all know each other. (so they have a bit less than two years to spend as asl yay, not all that much, but still better than in canon.)

These brother are full of dreams of bright and exciting future! I sure hope nothing bad happens to them 👍

#asl brothers #Ace #Portgas D. Ace #Portgas D Ace #Luffy #Monkey D. Luffy #Monkey D Luffy #Sabo #sabo the revolutionary #sabo one piece #op sci-fi au #one piece #op fanart #fanart #art #karyss' art #text post #I'd write more honestly but it's already late at night and I just want to post the picture already lol

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toasttt11 · 5 months

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introducing vera

Vera Lily Hischier was born January 13, 2002, the youngest out of her three older siblings.

When she was growing up she played hockey just like her family and she grew to love the sport, but when she 7 she had a bad hit in a game and broke her wrist and elbow, leaving her not to being able to play hockey for months but she still wanted to be on the ice so she started doing figure skating and fell in love with it and decided to continue with the sport.

Vera had made the right decision by choosing figure skating anyone with an eye could tell, so if you thought she’s an amazing at hockey it is nothing compared to her raw natural talent she has for figure skating.

Vera quickly gained a lot of attention as she started doing moves that were deemed difficult for women or unable for women to do, but it never seemed to stop her if anything it motivated her.

By the time she turned 13 in 2014 she was going into her first olympics not only was she the youngest ever to compete in the olympics she got gold in her two events and became the youngest ever gold medalist.

The end of 2014 she had found a partner for paired skating someone she quickly connected to and anyone could see the chemistry they had on the ice. They quickly were becoming oke of the best pairs to skate ever.

Frederic Schmid was a skater from Switzerland and had watched Vera’s performances and hoped to become her partner one day, and he did.

The two became best friends and became an amazing pair of the ice.

Vera once again was in the olympics in 2018 and not only did she get there goal medals she always broke the world record of landing four triple axel.

Vera and Fredric’s friendship slowly turned into a romance and by 2020 the two knew of their feelings for each other and embraced them, the two were the perfect couple and everyone thought they were soulmate’s until 2022.

In 2022 fans, friends and family could all tell there was something different between the couple, not only was the once affection and loving touches between the two now nonexistent but Fredrick barely seem to acknowledge Vera if not on the ice.

The two competed one more time together at the Olympics bringing home a gold before Vera decided it was time to end the relationship and she was going forward to find a different pair partner especially when she read the contract for the next few years and Fredrick not only wanted her to play for everything for him but all the winning money would go to him, she quickly shut down the offer and left.

She decided to leave the home she shared with Fredrick in California and move to New Jersey to be closer to her brother.

Vera after her first olympics started a business for ice skating fashion, clothes to train in off and on the ice, costume’s to perform in, everything and anything to do with figure skating and the company quickly grew fast and soon she was adding a hockey line where she had NHL teams asking her to sponser their apparel, olympic teams also asking her to sponser them as well.

Nico and Vera have always been very close, the two have been best friends since she was born, Vera’s favorite person has always been Nico. Nico was ecstatic when he found out she would be moving near him and having the chance to see his favorite sibling more.

Vera has always looked up to Nina, her being the older sister. Nina always had Vera under her wing teaching her everything and anything. Nina always loving fashion was asked by Vera to be a partner in her business.

Luca has always been the most protective, as the oldest he was protective of all his siblings but especially the two youngest ones.

Vera was competing a division a head but watched the lower division and loved watching a girl who was three years younger then Vera, Alexandra Trusova. They ended up going to the same ice skating camp and they ended up rooming together, the two became fast friends and Vera became an older sister to Alexandra and have stayed great friends since.

Vera is pretty close with most of the players on the Devils because of Nico and she tries to go to as many games and she sees all them.

Jack once in an interview when he was 16 said his celebrity crush was Vera Hischer and Vers never once saw the video but most of the world have found that video and ship Jack and Vera.

Nico has seen the video and surprisingly has always wanted Vera to be with Jack despite being teammates with Jack, Nico always had an off feeling from Fredrick when he started dating Vera and hated he was right in the end.

Jack and Vera met when he was drafted in 2019 and despite Jack having a celebrity crush on her, he didn’t treat Vera and different and Vera didn’t treat him anything other than just Jack.

The two become really great friends and nothing more happen especially since in 2019 Jack had a rough season and didn’t have time to think of anything more, Vera won’t admit but she has always had a little crush on Jack having heard of him in the Hockey world but just pushed it away because he’s her brothers teammate.

Jack figured he lost his chance when he realized she was in love with someone else and happily just stayed her friend just wanting her to be happy, but the more she was in the relationship the more he could see her spark fading.

Jack of course was very happy when he realized she was literally moving into the same apartment building as Nico, also the same apartment building as him.

#verahischierau #jack hughes x reader #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jh86 #luke hughes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier #olympics

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bouncybongfairy · 8 months

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Woodstock 1999

Rick Sanchez x Fem Reader

Summary: After attending a house party, thrown by your friend Summer, you end up meeting Rick. While making small talk, you tell him about the Woodstock 99' documentary that you had just seen and that you wish you could have seen Korn from that festival. Rick is confident that you wouldn’t be able to handle yourself in a crowd like that. When you disagree, Rick tries to call your bluff. By taking you to an alternative reality where Woodstock 99 is taking place.

Word Count: 3k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were sweeping the floors, finishing up your shift at the grocery store you worked at. It was Thursday and the store had been relatively quiet for most of the night. Only a couple more customers were wandering the isles, picking up last-minute items.. You were pretty tired, this started as a summer job but you ended up keeping it throughout the school year. It was nice to have extra money for clothes and outings with your friends, it almost made up for how depleting work was. You heard the assistance bell ring from the register, which prompts you to run over. You were pleasantly surprised to see Summer and her mom, you share most of your classes with the redhead. She has actually spent the night at your house a couple of times and vice-versa. You give her a quick mom and start scanning her items. Her mom was going on and on about how all the bottles of wine were for a family event, you looked over at Summer who was rolling her eyes. You held back a chuckle and continued to make polite conversation with Beth. After you bagged their groceries, Beth walked back to the car but Summer stayed back to talk.

“So obviously the family event thing was a lie but I am throwing a party tomorrow while my parents are doing this couple retreat thing. You should totally come,” Summer said.

“Yeah that sounds really fun, did you already invite half the school?” you joked while wiping down the counter.

“A lot of people are coming, yeah, but it’ll still be fun,” she said.

“Yeah for sure, do you want me to bring anything?” you asked.

“Just your hot ass and maybe a bottle would be cool. My mom is calling. I got to go but I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said while walking away.

Normally a house party isn’t really your scene but you were feeling kinda excited. For the past two months, you’ve been in a bit of a funk. Only going to school and work, not feeling up to doing your make-up most days, and dressing pretty bummy. You felt like a good party would break you out of that. Summer and you had a lot of mutual friends so you knew you would have company no matter what. You checked out the last customer and locked the door behind them. You grabbed some stuff for your lunch tomorrow and two bottles of Red Berry Ciroc. The store was owned by an older gentleman who sadly had dementia, his 29-year-old son now runs the store. As long as you gave him an extra ten for each bottle you bought he would look the other way when it came to age. You took an Uber home and immediately got in the shower. Scrubbing all the sweat off your body and lathering your hair in shampoo as Molly Kate Kestne’s Prom Queen blasted through a speaker. You stayed in the hot water until you felt at risk of passing out. You give your mom a kiss on the cheek, wishing her a good night before going to your bedroom. After turning on Jersey Shore as background noise, you fall asleep in your towel; completely worn out by your school and work week.

When you woke up, you were surprised that you slept through the night considering you didn’t get too comfortable before falling asleep. You were feeling extremely well-rested, it wasn’t until you were halfway done with your hair that you remembered about Summer’s party. You were super excited, you had this Saturday off which meant you didn’t have to worry about having a hangover. You throw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and start gathering things into your book bag. Once you got to school, you couldn’t stop counting down the hours until you could leave. It felt like years had gone by once it was finally time for lunch. You were sitting with a group of friends who were all talking about Summer’s party. Maybe it’s because you have a job but your friends seem a lot less mature over these past couple of months. It seemed like if it wasn’t posted or extremely extra then it didn’t happen. I don’t know, it just felt like they did everything for shock value or clout. You thought it was weird how upset they would get if they didn’t look good in a video of them taking a shot or not taking a picture with the blunt before it was smoked. Sometimes you wish you could record how they act during those times and show them later. You pick at your salad, tuning out of their conversation until the bell rings.

Once the last period ended you bolted out of the front doors and made your way home. You flat ironed your hair and started applying a bit of makeup. Rummaging through your closet, you ended up wearing a tube top and a pair of baggy cargo jeans. You grabbed one of the biggest purses you could find grabbed a tee-shirt and wrapped the two vodka bottles in a way that avoids any clanking sound. Your pen, make-up bag, charger, and a couple of other items. You end up walking to Summer’s house seeing that it’s only a 20-minute walk. When you got there, the sun was just barely setting and teenagers were flocking to the house. The house was practically shaking due to how loud the music was. When you walked in you practically had to wave a cloud out of your face. Summer immediately noticed you when you walked in and came over to greet you.

“Hey! Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you came!” Summer said.

“Yeah me too, I needed this really bad. Also.. here are those bottles,” you said, taking the vodka out of your purse.

“Wow, I didn’t think you were gonna bring anything. I’m gonna chill these,” she said, grabbing the bottles and leading you into the kitchen. When you walked in Rick was leaning against the countertop. She shoved the bottles deep into the freezer, in hopes of speeding up the process.

“If you can’t drink -burp- the liquor at room temperature you’re probably not mature enough to be drinking at all,” Rick said, taking a swig from his flask.

“What if we just prefer it chilled? Just because you can doesn’t mean you shouldn’t” you point out.

“Yeah, Grandpa and after I smoke I don’t like the way hot ass liquor feels on my throat,” Summer said, closing the fridge door.

“Doesn’t matter whether your liquor is cold or hot, your party is gonna suck since you put a ban on any of my friends coming. Seems a little like bigotry in my opinion,” Rick said.

Summer ignored him and led you to her bedroom where a girl from your school Tricia Lange was packing a bowl. You asked Summer if it was okay to leave the party unattended. She joked ‘That’s what Morty is for’ which made you and Tricia laugh. She offered you greens which flattered you, after cornering the bowl you handed it to Summer. Coming off a two-week tolerance break, the weed was hitting you fast and hard. You tilted your head up and blew the smoke up into the air. Tricia complimented you on how pretty you looked which made you blush because.. hello its Tricia Lange, one of the hottest girls in your grade. You guys were making small talk when Summer pulled out a pink crystal and started crushing it into a fine powder.

“What is that?” you asked.

“It’s a Kalaxian crystal, it’s pretty mild like snorting molly kinda,” Summer said, lining up the power.

“I.. don’t know about that,” you said looking at the powder suspiciously.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about it showing up on a drug test or anything. It’s not detectable with Earth’s drug tests,” Tricia said, setting her hand on your shoulder.

“No, well that’s good to know actually but imma need to see you take a bump before I do,” you said.

“You humor me,” Summer said, using a hundred-dollar bill to snort the powder, her eyes turning a baby blue.

Summer passed the tray to Tricia who mimicked her action. Your heart was racing as her manicured hands passed the tray over to you. Not wanting to come off as a prude, you took the rolled-up bill into your hand and brought it up to your nose. You sniffed the powder into your nose and coughed a little because the taste was so foreign. The two girls lead you downstairs where the party is now packed and a bit unhinged. Couples making out against any available wall space they could find, groups of people who were surrounding a person smoking out of a gravity bong. Drugs by Lil Aaron was blaring out of several speakers, drowning out almost every other sound. The three of you were dancing together in the living room with several of your peers. You were feeling so euphoric and magical; like you could float off the ground if you really tried. It was then that Summer reminded you of the Ciroc bottles that were in the freezer. All three of you took a shot and cringed as it went down. Summer and Tricia left to go to the bathroom leaving you in the kitchen. You were pretty intoxicated at this point and started to wander. You end up in the garage, where Rick is sitting at his workstation.

“Out!” he barked which caused you to jump and gasp due to how loud and aggressive he sounded, he didn’t even look up.

“S-sorry I -which way..” you started but Rick got up and walked over to you. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up.

“I told Summer to stop giving K-Crystals to her little friends,” he said, seeing the effects from your eyes. You looked over a noticed he had a Woodstock 99’ ticket pinned onto his wall.

“You -hiccup- went to Woodstock 99? You- you’re so lucky you got to see Korn from that crowd,” you slurred without breaking eye contact. He laughed and let go of your chin and walked back to his workstation.

“Did you actually go?” you asked, walking over to him.

“I thought I said to get out earlier,” he said.

“I have selective hearing,” you said, picking up a screwdriver.

“I’m lost, is that supposed to be my problem?” he said.

“Well it -burp- if you really wanted it to be,” you giggled.

“Yeah as much of a catch as you are, I think I’ll pass,” he laughed.

“Oh please I bet I’d be the best pussy you’ve had in months,” you laugh but quickly change expressions as Rick stands up and towers over you.

“Do you really think that you would be an unachievable fantasy to me? Like I’m some sad old stockbroker who has to rely on naivety to get laid? Don’t insult me,” Rick said, taking a sip of his flask without stepping away.

“Your shirt -hiccup- looks so soft, imagine if we could have gone to Woodstock together. You’re so tall that I wouldn’t have to worry about guys reaching up and groping me and I would have the most amazing view of some of the coolest bands of all time,” you said, feeling your high slowly start to come down. He smirked at you before turning around locking the garage door and opening a portal, dragging you through it.

“What- where are we going?” you asked confused, adjusting your eyes to the suddenly sunny skies.

“To call your bluff. There’s no way you could last here, it was kinda a shit show if you didn’t know,” he said.

“I know, I watched the documentary on Netflix,” you said very matter-of-factly.

It took your eye a couple of minutes for them to adjust but once they did, you couldn’t deny you were a little taken back. There really was a lot of nudity and white-boy aggression. You hoped Rick didn’t notice, but every once in a while, you would look behind you to make sure he was nearby. The first thing you wanted to do was get to the airbrush body paint station. You wanted Korn written across your chest in black and pink. At this point, the high of the K-Crystals was completely worn off and all you wanted was a hit of something. It was then you realized you still had your purse, you blindly reached your hand in until you felt your hand hit the cold metal of the battery. Your mouth begins salivating as bring the cart to your lips and take a long drag, blowing it up in the air. You take a couple more drags and notice that the artist has stopped. When you looked down he was just looking up at you. He was probably in his early 30s and had a 90s haircut that was short and spiked with blonde tips. Without breaking contact take another drag and exhale as you speak.

“Sorry, did you want a hit?” you asked playfully, looking over at Rick who was smirking with his arms crossed, evaluating the situation. The guy airbrushing you looked up at Rick who started to speak.

“You know you didn’t come across to me as one of those girls who have nipple piercings,” Rick said.

“Yeah I know, they’re hot right?” you asked to adjust the one that didn’t have any paint on it yet; they were bars with a chain that supported a pink bedazzled saturn charm.

“So uh, Maria is gonna finish up our piece cool?” he said, getting up before either of you could respond which caused both of you to chuckle.

After you were finished up with the body painting tent you made your way to the main stage. Hundreds of teens and young adults were making their way to the exact same location. It was weird because even though you knew what was going to happen, you were still bubbling with anticipation. Rick laughed and mocked you because he knew you had seen exactly what happened and still bubbled with suspense and excitement. When you asked Rick if you could actually sit on his shoulders he didn’t say anything, only nodding in agreement. You were trying to pry about the first time he ever experienced this but he would always give you a bullshit excuse like he was too wasted to remember. As you walked, guys kept approaching you, trying hard to keep conversation. You tried to be polite and at least slow down as you respectfully deny their advance. You even stopped a couple of times but Rick would gently bump into you with his body from behind to keep you walking. Once you got into the crowd, Rick took the arm and pressed his body to your back. He started guiding and shaving his way through the front of the sea of people while having his arms raised, protecting you from the crowd.

Normally if someone was being more polite it would have taken forever to make their way to the front. Rick however wasn’t sparing any feelings as he pushed and shoved. As you people watched, you couldn’t help but take in how different people were in the 90s. One of the biggest things that tripped you out was seeing how different the hair and make-up were of the girls around you. Super thin eyebrows, a thick eyeliner waterline with clumpy mascara. Your lashes were huge and your nails were so long, it felt like everyone was staring at you. Most of the hair extensions were god-awful but you gave them a pass considering this was a festival. The cameras were so retro-looking and looked bulky on the crew’s shoulders. Rick pulled a plastic baggie of pink powder from his lab coat. You assumed these were the same crystals you smoked earlier so didn’t think twice when snorting your fair share. Only later to find out that it was actually Molly, normally you’d be freaking out but I mean… You were in an entirely different dimension. Seemed kinda late for that. Once the intro started, Rick bent down slightly allowing you to sit on his shoulders. You could feel the energy of the crowd growing. It was almost like your heartbeat was getting more intense as the music’s rhythm began picking up.

A camera was coming closer to you, you blew it a kiss and then took a drag of your pen. It could have been because of the drugs but you felt like you were so high in the air, you could see the top of everyone’s head.; like you were a skyscraper. You were truly having the time of your life, it was nice being able to be carefree. Being able to get as wasted or naked as you wanted knowing you had someone to take care of you. You were gently running your fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little bit. You leaned down and whispered into the top of his head,

“Thank you for taking me here, this is amazing,” you said.

He didn’t reply, just ran his hands up and down your leg, starting at your knees and ending at your ankles. You were feeling accomplished that he didn’t get the chance to call your bluff as he put it. When Korn wasn’t playing you could barely hear yourself think over how loud the crowd was. You couldn’t tell if Rick was mad or just concentrating. After a while, you were getting overstimulated by everything going on around you. You asked Rick if you guys could head home, and he opens a portal directly underneath you guys, dropping the both of you back into a garage. You grab the extra tee shirt from your bag and throw it over your body.

“Thanks, we should do it again sometime,” you said before exiting the garage to find summer.

#rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty #rick c137 #Woodstock 1999 #Rick Sanchez FanFic #Woodstock #Korn #korn band #Rick and Morty #alcohol #drinking #smoking #weed smoking #Rick sanchez x you #rick sanchez x y/n

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possibilistfanfiction · 4 months

Note

Hi can we have some hallmark AU from Beas POV? Maybe their first Meeting?

despite what you know everyone believes — and what most of them aren’t afraid to say — you’re not lonely.

it’s a good life, the one you have, the one you have earned for yourself and made with your bare hands. it’s quiet, sure, and there’s solitude, and perhaps your therapist didn’t mean, a few years ago, that you should move far out of the city when they suggested you get away for a little while to be further from your parents and the feeling of this specter of trauma that floated all around that city, afraid you might see them at every turn.

even if it was an accident — or maybe because it was an accident — it had been easy to fall in love with this place, with the mountains and the cabin with floors you refurbished and bathroom tiles laid by your own hands, the practical clothes that fill your closet, the boots lined up neatly by the front door.

you had fallen in love with a family more complete and full of grace than you had thought possible — mary and her warm, safe bar; camila who always shares her books; lilith who helped you, despite a near panic, cut your hair for the first time; shannon and the ranch full of animals she always treats with such care; everyone who took care of you — with joy, without judgement or resentment — after top surgery, suzanne driving you to and from the hospital, four hours each way, and then a rotating cast of company and food, tidying around your home that has become theirs too, while you healed, and had, months later, mortifyingly whistled relentlessly the first time you went swimming in the lake the next summer. suzanne comes over sometimes with a bag from the farmer’s market to make you dinner and split a bottle of wine; camila has never forgotten your coffee order since the first time you went; lilith never complains on hikes that make you both bend over, exhausted by the time you summit, with matching grins; mary and shannon have you over every year for your birthday, throwing you a big party even though you insist you’re fine without. you are celebrated and seen without reproach, a miracle in itself.

you have theo, a great love of your life, no matter what anyone says, who had wandered up to you quite bravely the first time you went out to the ranch when she was still tiny, not quite coordinated, still downy and velvety soft in the way only her ears are now, with black freckles on her white chest and sharp puppy teeth when she chewed on your finger. you fell in love with the way she made shannon and suzanne laugh when she squared up with the sheep, much bigger than her, her fearless and ineffective attempts at herding both promising and adorable. she was never meant to be a working dog on the ranch full time, so when suzanne offered her to you as a companion who could work some days with the stock, it had felt like things slid into place. you talk to her and she tilts her head to listen; you laugh together and explore and she curls up, spine to spine, during the middle of the night; at sunrise you feed her scraps of bacon from your plate when she rests her head on your thigh.

you love and are loved so much; you are not lonely.

you know the entire town is meddling and loves to gossip, lilith being the worst even if she swears she’s not invested at all. camila is obvious about it, getting to know every person who ever visits to try to set you up with the ones she deems “eligible,” which, at this point, you think just translates into someone you would find physically attractive — not narrowing it down much — who is “probably” (camila’s words) single. it’s a lost cause, you’re fairly certain, even though everyone insists it’ll happen one day.

you should know to bet against god, or love, or fate, or whatever, because it’s an average day just like the others when you meet ava.

you had been reading a twitter thread the day before about how metaphors are relational only; they are rarepairs; they never fully tell the truth. it runs through your mind the first time you see her, laughing by shannon’s side, the snow just beginning to fall — you’ll think back on it years later and have no words or associations to really tell the whole truth of what you felt: like a door had opened in front of you that you had thought was a wall, or suddenly the grey light of the waning afternoon sounded a gentle purple, or planets and stars and the entire universe. there’s nothing but the truth of ava: her smile and her dark eyes and her cane getting caught in the fresh snow every time she takes a step, clearly annoying her but going unmentioned. her impractical puffer jacket, her red cheeks. you have never felt a pull like this before in your life, and it unsettles you.

theo barks at you, embarrassingly, after you’ve just been standing still, your world reorienting. she’s tired from working the sheep back from pasture to the barn before the storm, probably wanting water and a nap in your warm truck as you head home. you scratch behind her ears to soothe her and she shakes you off, still annoyed, which makes you laugh and follow as she trots along in front.

you haven’t felt this young maybe ever, suddenly blanking on literally any words when theo goes up to shannon — and, so, ava — and you don’t even know her yet, have never heard her name yet, but she beams at you.

‘beatrice,’ shannon says, and all you can do is offer up a weird, awkward wave, which shannon lifts a brow at, her smile sharpening when she sees what must be a blush on your cold cheeks, ‘this is ava; ava, this is beatrice.’

you take off your leather work gloves before offering your hand to shake.

‘wow,’ ava says, ‘that was so chivalrous, i loved it.’ before you can even respond, she leans forward excitedly. ‘and who is this?’

‘this is theo.’ theo, for her part, waits patiently by your side as her tongue lolls out in a happy, tired smile, her little coat admittedly very cute. ‘you can say hi, if you want. she loves people.’

ava is delighted by this, and she crouches down and pets theo happily but considerately, not getting too excited or up in her space. ‘i know you said she loves people, but i’m feeling very special right now.’

you laugh. ‘she has that effect.’

ava eventually stands, and you kind of resent shannon for leaving at some point in the last thirty seconds while you were both distracted. ‘do you —‘

‘—where are you—‘

‘apologies,’ you say.

‘sorry,’ ava says.

you reach out and touch her hand gently, briefly, enough to send a shock of electricity — warm and new — through you. it’s starting to snow harder, and you had planned to beat the worst of it and settle in for the night. ‘did you drive here?’ you ask, forgoing your first desire to ask where are you visiting from? or how long will you be staying? or why are you here?

ava laughs. ‘nah, mary gave me a ride. i was at the bar and she was telling me about this place; i do marketing and social media for an agency in the city and it sounded like the ranch could use some of my incredible expertise, maybe, for fundraising views. plus it sounded cute, so i wanted to see it and she offered. anyway —‘ she rambles and then takes a deep breath. ‘she didn’t say anything about you.’

you feel, mortifyingly, for a moment, like you might pass out, but you gather yourself. ‘oh, i, uh, i just volunteer here. with theo. we work stock. i don’t —‘ you clear your throat and ava looks on, grinning, ‘do you need a ride back to town?’

#just a little bit!!#wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #hallmark au #butch bea 🥺🫡#immediately just like wow this is my ultimate soulmate #but also whatever it’s the dog too lol #it’s love at first sight your honor

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choochooboss · 3 months

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Introducing your station master & Magma event host!

Since there's already a lot of passengers visiting this station and I haven't spared much time to get to know my fellow submas fans over Tumbrl yet, an introduction would be in place!

I'm Jun, nice to meet you! *offers a hand for for a shake* I am a devoted submas artist & a monthly Magma event host! I go by ChooChooBoss everywhere (Twitter/Bsky/Twitch/Ko-Fi)!

This will be a long post! I will write a short intro as well which you can just skim through but here is a more in depth view how I got into submas, my other interests and life in general, in case you'd wish to know more about your conductor on this silly train!

How did I get into submas in the first place?

PLA. I met this certain mysterious & cool fellow time traveler and got curious! After the cave scene I went to read his Wiki, found out about Emmet, and... yeah. The emotional impact blasted me right out of a miserable cycle I was going through back then and set my soul on fire!! A month later I set up my first art account on Twitter, and the rest is history. They've become my greatest source of strength and inspiration and I enjoy drawing them every single day!

I love both twins very much! I tend to vibe with Ingo a little more than Emmet, but I draw Emmet more. People say I remind of butler Ingo the most, hehe. I certainly don't mind because I'm a big fan of butlermas!! In fact I got into submas & started playing Pokémon Masters EX in April 2022, a week before butler Ingo banner rolled in, so they truly got a special place in my heart ahah! (pssst draw more butlermas for me pls pls pls-)

However I don't draw warden Ingo as much as I would like to. I still get pretty emotional over his fate ahah, I can't draw him without a single tear! This sweet & kind man leading a good life and being an inspiration to others has been torn from literally everything he had for seemingly no reason apart from his name, clothes and the muscle memory and even those are barely intact. It seems like a miracle he's still standing and breathing after put through everything judging by the wear and tear on his uniform and body. Despite all that he carries a positive attitude, assists everyone in need, and does his best to help people and pokémon understand each other, unconditionally... Oh, my face is wet again...

My other interests besides submas?

Monster Hunter! Zelda! Genshin Impact! Super Mario! Trine! Crash Team Racing! And many many more! My favourite genres are platformers, kart racers, and action games, with a side of rhythm games. I'm a big fan of co-op games! I also watch my sis play JRPGs!

Monster Hunter is the dearest to me out of all. I've been hunting for well over a decade starting from MHFU. The games have charmed me with their incredibly satisfying combat system, world building, creature design, great attention to detail, character customisation and the games being nearly fully co-op!!

Other things I do:

Pokémon is practically the only turn-based game I enjoy, mainly because of the characters and collection aspect. However!! I adore Pokémon Colosseum (the first pkmn game I ever played!) and it's double battle focus, so The Indigo Disc has been a delight after the long starvation for double battles, coming up with different combinations makes the battles much more fun to me!!... I sound like Emmet here do I ahahah! We also share the fact we are both left-handed!

Shuffle dancing, daily pull-ups, and expanding my ever growing VGM collection! I also enjoy traveling and taking photos to keep as a diary! I've played piano in a music school for 9 years, and I can also play kalimba. I've done casual boxing, gymnastics, horse riding and medieval swordfighting. I used to read comics/manga and watch movies and anime but nowadays I barely do that, I just rather use that time for drawing instead of just sitting and watching, unless I have company!

I share the apartment with my anxious brother and our two sweet female cats, Laku (11, stubborn and cuddly) and Kalevi (21, demanding and full of love) in a city center. My parents are both entrepreneurs and run a farm in the countryside & I have 4 siblings with me as the middle kid!

Where can you meet me?

I am a game artist by profession, with 4 yrs of studies and roughly 7 years of EXP in the field doing game art, UI design, character/prop design, in mobile games as well as PC titles, 2D and 3D. At the moment I am looking for work; I keep up the motivation and learn new skills by running my art accounts while looking for new opportunities.

I hail from the land of darkness, snow, salmiakki, metalheads and renownly reserved people, Finland! (UTC+2)

Despite having my roots here I am pretty much the opposite of a typical Finn in almost every sense ahah! I'm a small guy who's not afraid talking to strangers and laughs a lot. And I dislike coffee for the contrary, it's very popular amongst finns.

With the inspiration from submas I've finally stepped into the world of cosplay so you can usually meet this small and excitable Ingo in the biggest local conventions, Desucon and Tracon! Come say hi!

About my social battery:

I'm both social and socially anxious ahah! I love making new friends and talking to all sorts of people and writing comments, and gathering together with my mutuals to do cool stuff together! However my social battery is very small... I often struggle with my AD(H)D and anxiety issues, so my replies can be extremely slow. I'm easily overwhelmed when life gets busy and I deal with it by withdrawing to minimise the the stimuli and then sorting my stuff out one by one. This is a frustrating shortcoming, but I'm working hard to find a balance I can maintain without getting exhausted. Please be patient with me! If you don't hear from me in a while, please don't take it personally! In fact, it makes me really happy if you contact me, for any purpose!

Which pronouns do I go with?

I go by they/them! I am also aroace, so if I appear to show any sort of romantic interest, it's definitely not that. I love meeting new people and am quite interested in people in general so I'm excited to get to know you better, but the thing is... I have been confusing people on several occassions for saying things that could be taken as flirting. I am terribly sorry for that, that's just the way I show how I care!

I don't really identify myself by any specific gender either, but rather by my roles or interests (Magma host, submas fan, game artist etc.). Submas encouraged me to enjoy dressing formally even if I'm just sitting at home, because I love formal clothing in general and wearing them makes me feel confident and stand taller! I usually wear collar shirts and black or white slacks.

More about my AD(H)D:

I don't have an official diagnosis but deal with the same problems as AD(H)D people do; poor work memory, dissociation, hyperfocus (drawing and people), sleep deprivation, impulsiveness (juggling too many things and going with the wind), getting sensory/information overloads, and feeling like I don't fit in. I figured it out after I finished school & lost my job for that I am unable to handle big tasks without anyone giving me directions. It has taken a while but I've figured out things that help me manage my daily life as well as have a medication that mainly boosts my capability to get things started which is another great struggle ahah.

How do I manage to keep myself on track?

I use a Pomodoro timer to keep up a good flow and remember to take breaks! This is what I use the most:

I should set it up on my tablet as well. I think it's really cool to see how many hours I have actually put into drawing! Last year I clocked in well over 3k hours, ahaha!

How to catch me?

Right now I have great difficulty managing replies, but usually you can reach me by DMs! I check Discord and Twitter the most often! However I must ask you to respect my current DNI status. It means I am really overwhelmed so I wish nobody comes asking for my attention until it has been lifted, unless it's really necessary. I really love talking to you all but I also have to accept and deal with my own limits strictly like this or it won't work out.

What am I working on at the moment?

Besides the holiday set I have several short comics under works as well as one big comic (100+ pages!). That one is my personal greatest goal! I started working on it in June 2022 and I have currently 40+ pages sketched and 60+ thumbnailed.

I was afraid of starting any comic projects before submas, but the sheer excitement over them carried me over that personal wall ahah!

The story's beginning and end are looking good and somewhat functional but there's still a lot to work to do and holes to fill in the middle before I dare to start fleshing out the pages. I have little experience in writing or comic making so I hope you forgive if some things don't make sense or the dialogue is a little on the nose so to say ahah!

The story will be packed with action with the overall tone being on the darker side, but it sure won't be lacking in humor! The project's main goal is to make it a celebration of all things submas & to prove to myself I can handle a big scale project despite my shortcomings!

This train has reached the terminal!

Thank you for riding my silly submas train!! I adore reading all your tags and comments! They brighten up my day & fuel my passion even more!! I hope to bring many more fun things for you to look forward to!! See you again soon!

ALL ABOARD!!

#Personal #Introduction

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rise-my-angel · 4 months

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Heart of the Great Wolf

30 - Winged Shadow in the Sky

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 17.8k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, child illness, non descriptive inferences to incest, graphic description of disturbing imagery, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: Certain subplots and character storylines may be a mixture of book and show content, rather then strictly one or the other. If someone does not seem to be following their show plot, until mentioned otherwise assume they are following their book plot instead. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Jon was never a great sleeper even at the best of times. His mind always found itself racing, too loud, thoughts too vivid and when he did dream the various stages of his life plagued with whatever would startle him awake the most. Whenever that happened, he usually didn’t go back to sleep. He could recall as a boy, Maester Luwin telling him dreams are simply a way the mind tries to work a problem out, but all Jon ever saw was his own insecurities haunting him and those dreams didn’t change much for a long time.

He hadn’t slept in over two days the first night out in the North, as he finally followed his Uncle Benjen to take the black. His mood was horrible, he was exhausted and he was as unsettled and irritable to everything and anything, no matter what he tried to focus on. Jon’s room was further away from the other Stark children, but close enough that even if all he heard was pure silence hiding whatever noise was beyond each thick stone wall, he still couldn’t handle it.

His last night in Winterfell and he had to spend it watching you marry his brother, and Jon could so easily see that you and Robb looked good together. He hated it. He also really hated, that Robb was about to get the one thing from you, that Jon had spent years wanting to share for both yours and his own first time.

You and Robb had sat up together at the main table and Jon recognized that exact look on your face all too well. The silent nerves trying desperately to hide in plain sight. It was the same look you had that day in his room, when the only sounds were the crackling of his fire, and the soft sounds of your clothes as he pulled them all off. He saw all of you for the first time, and he knew he had been staring intently in silence for a while, and when he returned to your eyes there was that look.

So that last night in Winterfell, sitting in the reception hall, he left.

Drinks, music, commotion and the royal company added to the noise which let Jon slip away after he had likely downed more to drink then he should have. Sober, he was smart enough to know Robb wouldn’t do it, but Jon was too inebriated to risk it. He was your best friend, and he was Robb’s eldest brother, tradition expected him to participate in, what he always felt, was the stupid custom of a bedding ceremony.

In no way could Jon handle that, others seeing you like that and knowing he was only handing you off to his brother. It wouldn’t, and didn’t happen, but Jon left all the same into the cold night.

He spent the rest of his night also avoiding anywhere near Robb’s room. He wouldn’t have heard anything anyways, but he avoided it all the same, knowing what was happening. Yet that first night out in the cold going to the wall when he finally slept, he dreamt of Robb finding out his secret, mocking him and humiliating him in front of everyone for ever thinking Jon could be worthy of you. Saying he was never and could never be a true Stark, just a worthless bastard who never deserved your love.

But then he got to the Wall, and he started dreaming about you. Not realizing what he was seeing even when he kept hearing about you. He still remembered Commander Mormont telling him that you and his father had been arrested for treason, that Joffery and the Queen Regent had claimed you had conspired with his father to help him usurp the crown. He didn't yet know he had dreamt of that. And he didn't realize he had dreamt of a lot more, until Sam told him about you and Robb going to war. He had seen that too, and only then, realized all of these dreams of you had been truths.

He’d seen a lot of that, but it wasn’t until after Sam, Grenn, and Pyp had already brought him back did he start seeing you in visions before his waking eyes almost everyday. Then he really didn’t sleep well.

Seeing you in his dreams, or dreaming a memory of that thing taking the newborn baby, turned into not sleeping more then a few hours at a time as long. That was once more, even worse as he travelled with the free folk, or, more specifically, Jon didn’t sleep much at all travelling with Ygritte. Not before that day in the cave, and certainly not after. If he was awake, he could work to avoid what she wanted before she decided she was just going to take it. Most days, she would take it anyways though.

It was worse when she would talk, because there was no escaping it, knowing her voice was overpowering whatever he was trying to imagine in his mind. You sounded nothing like her, spoke nothing like her and there were times he was seeing you in visions or in his sleep only to be interrupted, woken by her, taking what she thought she was entitled too. And barley awake from dreams of you, Jon would have no choice but to pretend he was fine with it all.

After you and Robb were gone, his dreams could be split into two. One half was a vision that still haunted him, even now when he would wake up and look at you alive. The other was finding the eyes of Ghost and walking through them. He still had those, only he knew what that was at this point. What kept him awake now though on this particular night, was the dream he didn’t understand more then the others.

A night storm had found it’s way over Dragonstone, pouring and rumbling overhead to accompany him in the darkness. Turning more on his side, his arms were wrapped firmly around you. The hand by your hair toying with the loose strands as he watched you. Tucked right into his chest as if trusting him to keep you safe in your unconscious state. If he slipped his hand down, he could probably still find traces of him between your legs. He had taken you a few times with purpose, before rutting into you with a greeding need, and Jon liked how calm and peaceful you looked in your sleep after. The rougher he took you, the better you slept and Jon was more then happy to provide that.

But then he fell asleep. And he dreamt of you, but not like before. Not a vision or image of you in something trying to show him your paths, not a memory you shared together. He had no reason to dream anything like this, nor should he have known anything about it, but he did. Following you around at his age now, still on Dragonstone, but he could see you were twelve.

He followed you all throughout that dream, as if you weren’t guiding him anywhere just living a life no knowledge of being watched. Then finally, convinced this was the strangest dream he’s had yet did Jon finally move to reach out to you trying to almost comfort the sadness in the girl you used to be.

Shifting in his hold, he slunk more down back onto the bed, pulling you more into his chest so he could rest, face finding a home in your hair. Just as he tried to close his eyes once more, your voice muffled sleepily into the quiet. “Your thoughts are rather loud, did you know that?”

Chuckling without moving from his new position, Jon mumbled back, “I could always go think in another room, if it woke up you.”

Sighing what might have been playfully were you more awake, you pulled back enough, forcing Jon to do so as well. Shifting so you could see his face more properly, both of you hardly moved much from laying comfortably under the sheets facing one another. “You could, but considering I’m already awake, you could tell me what’s keeping you up so late like this.”

Jon wasn’t sure what to say that time, it was a dream he felt like was a memory that belonged to you, not him. But he walked through it with you and now wondered were it a true memory how much of it did you even remember?

Looking into your eyes, you found yourself easily getting lost finding his back. Even in the dark of night they were bright and shining. Speaking volumes of words he found not the speech for. “Weird dreams, that's all.” You sighed out a little bit, one hand reaching up to run gently across the his shoulder as that same arm of his held firmly at your hip. “How about you tell me what was on your mind the past few days, and I’ll tell you what I was dreaming about in return?”

If you said it, it would have to be real and you wished desperately it wasn’t. Nothing good would come from it should it come here. Finding his gaze soft, you sighed out once more letting that hand now run mindlessly along his chest, fingers purposely making a path to avoid any contact with the scars littered across him. “Do you know why my father was given Dragonstone instead of inheriting Storm’s End?”

Shaking his head slightly, you continued to look at what you could see of his scars and retraced every path without touching the open scars never to heal as you spoke quietly. “It was a punishment. A reminder of what Robert thought he let get away. At the end of the rebellion, he sent my father to Dragonstone to destroy the remaining Targaryeans, but by the time he got there, Rhaella had passed and her remaining children were already smuggled out to Essos. Robert thought it was his fault, so he gave Storm’s End to Renly. But most of the realm never knew my father didn't actually get to them first.”

Pausing for a good while, your voice if it was possible, dropped even more. “It was a raven from one of Aegon’s connections across the Narrow Sea.” Looking up to him, the hesitation in your eyes bled right into Jon’s as soon as you said it. “Daenerys Targaryean is alive, and she has dragons. Three living dragons.”

Slowly sitting up, the sheet pooled around Jon’s hips as you followed suit, trying to pull enough to keep your chest covered in the cool, storming night air. “Dragons?” You nodded, something fearful in your own gaze that once more watched green engulf the shores of your childhood home and how those screams were your cause. What worse would it be from a true dragon? “I thought they were all-”

“They were. And any dragon eggs that remained eventually turn to stone if they can’t be hatched. An informant Robert had watching her and Viserys told us she had been gifted three dragon eggs turned to stone..and according to Lord Varys's little birds, she had one of her own slaves burned alive as a sacrifice to bring them into this world.” A thought that horrified. Sacrifice of life through death and fire.

Jon knew too. It was what Stannis had led the red woman do. It was what had been done to your family as well to bring victory. That wasn’t a cost either of you thought was worth it. But the cost for this, he didn’t imagine anything was worth it. Shaking his head for a moment as his face twisted in thought, “The last of their dragons was small though.”

Your eyes drifted to beyond. The skull in the underground of Kings Landing. Even the size you were now, you could stand upright in it’s mouth and not hit the top. “If they aren’t fully grown now, they will be soon. What happened the last time a Targaryean came to Westeros with three full sized dragons?”

Eyes drifting from his gaze, there was something unsettled in both of you. There was so little either of you could go on, but what there was seemed to be nothing but a picture of a horror. Jon leaned down slightly, attempting to meet your own eyeline to his. “Hey, look at me. This isn’t the last time.” Your eyes finally flickered up to him with a wavering doubt. “We know what we’re up against now.”

Dropping from his again, all you could do was see the cold in your dreams and the fire that burned inside and letting both consume you seemed as fate as any. “We barley know how to survive the Others, how are we supposed to turn around and fight this too?” Finding his, there was a strength in Jon that was found doubtful in your smaller voice. “It feels like both sides are coming down on us, like we’re about to be trapped between two horrors and there’s nothing we can do to fight it.”

Shifting slightly, Jon moved to face you a little better, a hand coming gently to the side of your face as he let his thumb run along your cheek. Without thinking, your hand reached up too, grasping around his wrist as just as it always was since coming back, beat strong as ever as you continued. “The Targaryeans would have used their dragons to slaughter the North if your ancestor didn’t kneel to them, but we both know better. Either she slaughters us first, or the Others do and her and her dragons burn down what’s left. I’ve seen the ruins of Harrenhal, Jon. The strongest structure ever built and they burned through it so badly it was still smouldering when our army got there. If what I did was even a tenth of what dragonfire can do-”

Turning you to look at him properly, Jon’s own eyes were a tinge darker and face set much more sternly as he leaned more in. “What we did.” Trying to shake your head, Jon called your name more firmly. “We did that together, and do you know what’s important? We didn’t enjoy it.”

In that dark night, the rain coming down still around outside those walls, the weight of wars coming on both sides felt too heavy to pretend to be hopeful about, but Jon looked at you with enough all on his own. Rasping low as he moved the hand on your cheek to run along your hair loose at the back of your head. “The Mad King laughed when he burned by Uncle and Grandfather alive, that woman was proud of Mance Rayder’s screams until I shot an arrow in his heart to stop it, she told you burning your little sister alive was doing you a kindness.” That agony weighed far too much in your heart to stop that feeling from choking up in your throat as your hand tightened more desperately to his wrist, still feeling his steady pulse under.

“We’re finding a way to survive winter, but you and I already know fire isn’t an answer. If it was, we wouldn’t have cared about what we did. But this is just one more thing, one more step. We finish here, and we go home. Then we figure out what to do next, not worry about it before.” The hand running through your hair felt as if finally something of comfort was running through your spine and warming the shaking nerves inside. “Winter is coming, so that’s the war we fight. Beacuse the storms won’t stop just for her. Her coming for the Iron Throne isn’t more important then our fight, and if only you and me get that? Nothing changes. We’re still here to protect our people, and we’ll do that no matter what’s coming for us.”

A shadow of a smile wished to form on your face, but struggled to form it even through the whisper lightening your tone and eyes with it. “How do you do that?” Your other hand skipping past running along him and cupping his jaw, running your own thumb over the facial hair and part of his cheek as you looked to nothing but the grey. “Everything you’ve seen, everything that’s happened and you still come through it all a better man then most could dream to be in a lifetime.”

But he didn’t take that as praise, just shook his head only slightly as he raked his hands through your hair more. “I’m not a better man then anyone else. Just one who wants to do what’s right. And so are you. We fight for our people, the ones we love, and protect those who can’t protect themselves beacuse no one else will.”

That wishful smile eased more as his deep words rumbled through your heart, bringing more life back into it. The ask wasn’t in doubt, or even a true hesitation, only the honesty of what he truly wanted on your lips. “Are you sure you want all of this with me? Trying to find a life together even when it feels like the end is coming for us on both sides?”

Jon wasted no time holding back a smile. “We died before we had a chance to be together, what better time then to start that life together then now? We’re already fighting for our people, being with you, having a family together? It just means you and I fight back a little harder to keep them safe too.”

Nodding, you were the one to lean up. Jon sparing no time to steady himself, wrapping one hand around your waist as you had one palm braced on his chest and the other on his shoulder. His lips soft as they moulded right into fitting with yours, keeping every last bit of cold in your bones rushing with warmth as he kissed you. Moving back, Jon leaned against the stone wall behind him, pulling you gently onto his lap. Both your hands moving to run along his scarred chest and up around his neck to seek your own comfort in his curls.

Both of his own hands settled firmly on your waist before one trailed up your spine and wrapped gently in your hair to keep your lips to his. Never pushing it, never demanding you with greed. Just a soft kiss that he refused to let up as you didn’t want to part from. Gentle smaller ones pressed to your lips before Jon used your hair to tilt your head down. Pressing a kiss to your forehead as you leaned more into his chest with a sigh.

The hand on your hip wrapping around behind your back as you held around the back of his neck with one and resting flat over the scar covering his beating heart with the other. The air quiet until you whispered into it, “When are we leaving do you think?”

Jon tilted his head to press a light kiss to your neck before mostly resting in that same place as he held you in his close embrace. “If everything stay on track, a few more days at the most. Why? Sick of your home already?”

But you didn’t skip a second, your nails running along his scalp and curls as you leaned in closer to his touch. “You’re my home. At the wall, here, Winterfell..Highgarden.” Jon breathed out a laugh into your neck, “You’re the only thing that’s been home for me in a long time, and Winterfell is your home. That’s where you belong, and I belong wherever you are. This place hasn’t been a home since I first stepped foot in Winterfell all those years ago.”

Nodding in his spot in your neck, neither of you dared move as if to break the thin string keeping the emotions mostly at bay, but you still heard his low rasp clear as anything. “I love you.”

Nuzzling into his curls, you both felt that fire burning inside but instead of consuming you with a terrifying lust, it was a dance of embers that soothed over you both as if ensuring nothing could pull you apart. “And I love you, Jon Snow.”

Jon thought no more of mentioning that strange dream, and you thought no more of mentioning the one you had that’s led you down a path of total mystery. If you had a choice between fire and ice, you’d choose ice. You had told Theon that dragons don’t create, they only destroy. Well, it was fire which started a war that almost destroyed Jon’s family and it was in the cold of winter and ice where you reunited.

You hadn’t noticed as you both drifted back to sleep, that as Jon pulled your back against his chest, his hand moved to run across and find a slumbering home against your own scar almost protectively, just as Robb used to do so many times before.

This time it wasn’t a memory that didn’t belong to him that he dreamt of as Jon drifted back to sleep, or the nightmares of visions which haunted him for so long. This time as his eyes turned white behind their closed sleeping place, he walked the snowy wolfswood of the North through red eyes. The search of wolves Ghost was on, and it was as Jon warged into him in his sleep, did together they found the end of that search. And it was something equally as large as Ghost they found.

One that the last time he saw that direwolf, they had been sitting at the side of Arya the final time he and his baby sister saw each other. And as the direwolf came up to him, it for a moment, almost felt as if it wasn’t really Nymeria who was looking back at him, just as it wasn’t really Ghost who was looking at her.

“So explain to me how exactly it is you know that?”

Glancing over to Theon who was watching a fair few of you, working to determine the most effective way to carve the dragonglass into use, you contemplating the effectiveness of arrowheads but only dependant on the amount brought North and what could be spared for more. It wasn’t a difficult process, just time consuming. Only a small section could be broken off at once and too much force could shatter it.

It was obvious why it was not a stone often used for anything.

You weren’t sure when the discussion came around to the Lannisters, but you had made some comment about how they couldn’t afford to hire a foreign sell sword company the manner which Aegon had. When asking you why not, you had almost in passing mentioned that they couldn’t even afford a loan at this stage.

Looking back to your work, you would carefully use a cloth sitting in water to soak the dragonglass, slowly cooling it down which seemed to soften how brittle it would otherwise snap under immense pressure. Once you got the hang of it, it was easy, just tedious.

“The only place they could go to would be the Iron Bank of Bravvos, and they wouldn’t touch their treasury even as a last resort. They rely on stability and predictability.” Likely you knew, was why they had sided with your father. If he said he would work to pay off their debt, then he would find a way to do so if just to get them out of his way. “They know the Lannisters have no money to pay them back with, when I had left Kings Landing, the crown was already four million gold in debt to them, and another three to Tywin, meaning when Joffery was crowned they already were seven million gold in debt. And the war wouldn’t have helped.”

Not noticing the degree of how little the others in room with you were following any of this discussion or how needlessly confusing it all sounded in their ears. Theon however had spent much time working with you in the peaceful days in Winterfell and how much headache numbers quickly caused were you not to wrap your head around it. “How can you be sure? That they lost more in the war?”

You had one answer first, but not the words to speak it past your throat. Eyes drifting up to nothing as you could recall Roose Bolton saying that he was offered a Frey wife and her weight in silver from Walder himself should he help in their treason. Hence why he chose Walda, you knew. But that would be costly to the old man, and you knew too well that money would’ve also been provided by Tywin.

But working around it, you came to a more reasonable answer. “Because I know how much war was costing us, and we were beating them by a far margin. Means that they had to pay triple just to afford to spend three years running and hiding.” Gloved hand running down the edge of the shard in front of you, the sharpness putting good pressure on the leather even with little effort. “And the Lannisters gold mines ran dry almost five years ago.”

Theon’s head snapped up to yours, wide eyed with also a confusion as you realized that wasn’t quite publically available information. “Wait, so you’re saying the richest family in Westeros has no money?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Nothing but a flat tone and even expression as you didn’t look back at him. “The Tyrell’s still control the Reach, means as long as the land is fertile they still control all the food for most of the South. Meaning they’re the richest family in Westeros now. The Lannisters don’t have Tywin, they don’t have their gold, and they don’t even have over half the realm’s loyalty. Not what I could consider an enemy to fear.”

If Theon was baffled, he looked even moreso. So much of the families bravado came from their money and you stood there as casual as could be and said they had none but debt to their name left. “How can you be sure? That their mines are empty.”

You shrugged a shoulder, leaning closer as you snapped off a larger section almost too harshly, pulling back at the last minute avoiding the shattering of the broken piece. Spare arrowhead that one could be now. “I served on the small council, I was in charge of their ships and since they weren’t yet at war it meant most of what I did was control and negotiate trade deals. And you need to know exactly the kind of money the crown can work with to do that. They stopped going to the Lannisters for gold, and start going to the Iron Bank of Bravvos, put two and two together.”

That and a certain spider many years ago, may have once divulged certain information to you.

You could almost admire Tywin Lannister for how hard he worked to keep all of this under the table if you didn’t wish to drag him from his grave and boil him alive. Just how much money it must have cost in loans to orchestrate that night, how much was the cost of killing a King, you wondered. What did the Lannisters consider Robb’s life to be valued at, beacuse whatever the price was it wasn’t the right one.

Not a single thing was the right price in exchange for Robb’s life.

Tormund had been leaning against a wall, listening before finally he had a question that came close to distracting you enough to make your hand slip as you worked. “What’s wrong with not paying them back? You can live without so much fucking gold.”

Your smirk was easy, “Not if you’re a Lannister. Gold is the only weapon they had left, and now they have nothing.” Glancing up to him, you elaborated better with clarity in tone. “The Iron Bank won’t do anything to them, but when they couldn’t repay their loans the simply moved their eyes to somewhere else. If one doesn’t pay them, then they fund your enemies.” Glancing back down, your voice more of a mutter, “One way or another, they always get their gold back.”

According to Ser Davos, just as they were desperate enough to look to sell swords for help themselves, he had dawned on the idea of the Iron Bank of Bravvos, and it turned out, they didn’t need much convincing from the two of them. He was not a charming man, but Stannis Baratheon certainly knew how to lay out the direct facts with out any decorum or fluff. Just as they liked it over there.

“So what are you saying? That taking King’s Landing will be easy beacuse they can’t afford to pay to fight back anymore?” Just as you looked to Theon to answer, another did it for you from the doorway.

Voice unamused and bordering on frustrated, you turned to see Aegon looking not a shred of amused. He found your eyes, things had been unreasonably hostile between you both since the raven. You seemed to have more information then the rest did, including himself and he clearly didn’t like that. “What she means, is that she doesn’t think we can hold onto it long enough to pay them back. Right?”

Standing up properly, you turned to lean against the wooden surface which was your home for a number of hours. Your face didn’t shift expressions in the slightest. “You haven't lived here since you were a baby, Lord Connington hasn’t lived here in nearly thirty years. What of these lands do you know so well that you could find a way to pay back likely tens of millions of gold? How are you going to keep King’s Landing if you can’t afford to even feed the realm?”

“How’s your father going to do it?”

It was a condescending challenge rather then a real question, but you only narrowed your eyes in the slightest. “Similar to how Jon convinced them to aid in funds to the Night’s Watch, when they normally produce even less money then the Crown does now.” You didn’t elaborate on purpose, and it clearly annoyed Aegon he couldn’t figure it out.

You were as not easy to read, just like your father, and maybe you were finding out once more that few people outside of the North cared to tolerate your demeanour. “You want me to bend to your cause and yet you express no interest in aiding my-”

“You mean to lie about my intentions in front of my own men?” You grabbed one of the finished shards, formed much easier into that like a dagger. You could thank Sam for that were you to ever meet the man, a dagger was the most effective if Jon’s retelling of Sam’s heroics was accurate. If a man incapable of combat could use a dagger to kill one of those things, anyone could.

Flipping it in your hand with no care as you looked at him, not noticing the watchful eyes with impress at how easily you let a very sharp dagger of dragonglass twist and flip in your hand and not look at it in any way. You stopped mostly a few feet from the man, bringing it up to your face and moving it upright to look at. “Jon came here for this, he came here to find a way to protect his people. Jon’s cause is survival, not politics. As should his, and yours, and everyone’s. We didn’t ask you to kneel for us, we hoped you would have enough sense to fight beside us when the time comes.”

“Against your ice monsters and spooky snow corpses? Yes I am sure I am desperately needed up North to fight against the dangers from beyond the wall. And that is why the only man you could pull to your side is your father.”

You looked up at Aegon with little change in your eyes, and nothing to even portray irritation, just a calm, steady voice and unblinking eyes. “My father thought I was dead. He joined that fight of his own choice, and he hasn’t even seen what these people have,” Your head nodding to where much of the others were now standing almost ready in defence for you. They had taken less kindly to Aegon and his Golden Company then even you were. “I’ll tell you what Targaryean, we have ships. How about you and I take a trip. Sail up to Eastwatch by the Sea, go beyond the wall and when we come across the army of the dead, you can drag one of them all the way to Kings Landing to convince the Seven Kingdoms we’re telling the truth. If you survive that is.”

He said nothing but the agitation was felt tenfold as you leaned up, even if you were on your toes you would not reach him in height, but your quiet calm was all the intimidation needed. Your voice only a breathe more pedantic as you raised an eyebrow. “What do you say? You and I go beyond the wall, capture a wight and show the world what’s coming to kill us all. Or maybe, you could trust what the free folk have all seen, trust that the people they lost at Hardhome were real, and trust that so far, two men of the Nights Watch have killed these things.”

You don’t need to be shown her dragons to know that three flying creatures of immense fire were at the control of Daenerys Targaryean. You trusted in what Aegon had told you and the look in his eye when he described his aunt’s cruelty. So why could no one else bother showing an inkling of that respect to Jon?

He didn’t want to just save the North, he wanted everyone to fight together. Protect the realm beacuse this was all of our homes, you thought. Eight thousand years ago, it was the First Men and Children of the Forest. Now, the Children were gone, but the descendants of the First Men, the Andals, and the Rhoynar surpassed such a population. The First Men left no written histories. But if Kings Landing now had one million people living in that singular city, you reckoned that alone may be more then the entire population of the First Men during the Long Night.

Glaring at you, he found it frustrating you suspected, that you were in no way intimidated by a thing about him. Silent as he grasped for a word, before glancing to the others in the room and lowering his tone only for your ears. “Tell me, what does it say about Jon Snow that he's chosen a Queen that's so frustratingly unpleasant?”

An eyebrow raised, and without the restraint which would be more appropriate it came flying out of your mouth a little too easily. “Says better of him, then a man who thinks it's normal to marry his aunt.”

Oh the stammering silence which Aegon glared at you with almost made you laugh were you not smothering the intent to grin already. Leaning forward in your space, “I did not choose that myself, a decision made counciled by my advisors.”

Losing patience quickly you still had not blinked. “Did you come here for something or just to annoy me?”

If you were to have asked, Theon and Jon both would have told you it was a degree of amusing that even looking from low on the castle grounds where they stood, they could they see the sheer agitation in both your stance and Aegons as the two of you stood up on the battlements trying not to let whatever you were discussing, turn into an argument. And failing.

But, Jon had known the idea might mean more coming from you then him. Aegon to a degree already trusted somewhat in Jons intentions, but he did not trust yours. So, to him, it made more sense to have you approach the dragon with Jons idea, give the man a reason to trust both of you together.

“In what world do you think I would share his strategy with you, if he already refused?”

Sighing deeply, he glared at you before turning back to the sight of the sea. Looking out with his arms crossed over his chest. “You all want to work together, but Stannis talks down to me like I am a child, Jon Snow is angry with me for not believing in bed side stories, and you-”

An arm braced on the stone to the side, you continued to face Aegons side profile with a narrowed gaze not quite a glare. “I'm what, Targaryean? Not willing to share my fathers secrets when he already refused to himself? He didn't even tell me what his plans for taking Kings Landing was you know. I had to put that plan together myself with no help of his.” He said nothing and you stepped more into his space, voice lowering to a hiss. “You want to be a King, then start thinking like one. But do not stand there and get angry with me that you don't have allies flocking to your side when you haven't done a single thing to prove yourself.”

Sighing deeply, you could tell he was as on edge as you. “I do not expect allies to come without cause. I know my House does not hold the support it once did. The name Targaryean alone doesn't mean much anymore. Having to prove myself against Kingdoms that have been fighting for years isn't as easy as it sounded before I came here.”

Palms now perched on the stone, you looked out to the waters of the bay. The men had done a swift job, you almost could not tell you had committed an atrocity just to be able to stand here now. Your sleeve was well covered all the way down your arm, but for a moment you felt it. The touch of a gloved hand reaching to your wrist as you did his.

“I sent two thousand men to their graves today.”

You nor the North blamed Robb for that. It was a sacrifice that led to only victories for three years of battle, but it weighed on him more then any could imagine. It made him feel like a monster, but the horror in his heart was what kept him human despite the cost. You wished you could return the phantom sensation once more, grab Robbs wrist as he did you.

You wondered if he would understand this, as you did that.

But also, you understood here and now, that as much as you despised the one next to you, he spoke of an enemy that would be far worse. Whatever you disliked about Aegon as a man, you feared in Daenerys as a ruler far more. You weren't fighting for your fathers claim, but you knew hindering Aegons own was not why you were here. And in truth? You had more faith in him then you did the Lannisters either.

Voice low as you spoke, “If you want to take Kings Landing, then you can't stay here. Dragonstone is too far from the mainlands, and it is only advantageous beacuse no one wants it.” His head turned slightly to see you, but you stared harsh at the waters once green. “My Uncle holds Storms End. If you promise me no harm will come to his or his guard, I would be willing to share exactly how my father managed to hold onto it during the siege in the rebellion.”

Voice was calm, but his stance was as rigid as yours. “Storms End is your House's ancestral seat, why would you help me take it?”

You knew your father wasn't going to be happy about it, but in truth, if Aegon was not going to help Jon, you two would rather he leave the North alone then try and bring them back into this fight. Lions or Dragons, someone was going to try and force Jon into this fight, but maybe the one standing next to you would agree to a truce if nothing else.

Swallowing harsh, you forced your breathing to steady first. “Not long ago I was preparing to go to war with my father one day, now he is our strongest ally. I'm not asking for you to help us against your will, but I can promise you will have one less Kingdom to fight against you if you agree to a truce. And Jon and I are smart enough to know you won't agree to that unless we offer you something first.”

The wind blew between you both for a long while before Aegon spoke. “I don't believe what your husband tells me about the far North. But I know I believe my aunt has dragons, and I know if she gets here, whatever her dragons don't burn she will do worse to the rest of us who remain. Perhaps it will bring some peace of mind to know I at least wouldn't have to worry about the North siding with her against me.” Quick to point out Jon would not let his people fight in such a war, Aegon relented. “Tell me how to take Storms End, and I'll never force him too.”

So this was how betraying Stannis felt like, you remembered. Doing the hard thing beacuse in the end it was the option that would hold the most peace. At least if he considered you a traitor for it, you were already well acquainted with what that feels like.

The throne in the Great Hall seemed larger then you remembered somehow. Most of your time here as a child and it now felt bigger then each last, but perhaps too much had changed. Seeing the world from the perspective of a child never meant to inherit a single thing of a throne and now you stood as something the North called a Queen.

It was always a strange feeling, thinking of yourself in that term. It had been from the very moment Greatjon Umber had pulled out his sword and proclaimed Robb as King in the North. Robb pulling you to stand with him as something akin to a shock hit you. The feeling as every pair of eyes eventually turned to you, knowing that you would have to choose a side against father or husband and there was no real choice.

You sided with Robb beacuse he was the one you believed in, but you never sided with a King. Only a man.

But they called you Queen regardless and to this day that has yet to stop. But it never felt right, you never looked at yourself in the mirror and saw a Queen. A Queen to you had always looked like Cersei Lannister. Beautiful, always immaculately painted and dressed with rich fabrics draped in colours as she walked tall and with an elegance that you never held a candle too. Men far and wide would comment on her renowned beauty and many would do anything to be the one in her bed.

That had never been you. Awkward, never with the right figure that was seen as perfection. Not tiny enough in some places, and too soft or with too many curves in others. A face strong and fierce like many Baratheons were known for, a vision of a green eyed boy in a Kings Landing armoury that looked so much like you in another life you could’ve been born as twins. You looked like that boy, not like the beauty of a Lannister woman or the renowned allure spoken of a Targaryean Queen.

What mark would you make upon the world? The only Queens any remembered in this age were the worst of them. Short reigns of chaos and madness like Rhaenyra were the ones the realm remembered, ones like Cersei would be remembered for the horror her own perverse indiscretions had caused.

Robb was a good King. And he would only be remembered as the good King who was slain at a wedding. If you had died with him, you would’ve already faded from the memories of the people, but here you were in front of the throne of Dragonstone and still with the world being called a title you were never meant to have.

You were born a noble lady, raised to marry a high lord and have his children. You didn’t know what else was expected of you now. It was almost easier when you were pregnant, your duty had become to stay healthy and at Robb’s side. Now though, you felt as lost as you did that day in the cold, you and Robb surrounded as they chanted King in the North.

“Hard to imagine you on that.”

Turning to the side, you could see Jon approaching. Each footstep echoing in the vastness of the room as you came close to half a smile, looking back up at it. “Hard to imagine me on any throne, was never raised to value luxury.” Coming up beside you, Jon faced the same looking it over before turning to you with squinting eyes. “I’ve never actually sat on it before.”

A playfully surprised look amused over Jon’s face as he turned more to you before relenting with a smug look hiding in his eyes. “You never were good at knowing how to have fun.” Rolling your eyes with a real smirk winning over, he nodded towards it. “Try it now, see how it suits you.”

Turning to him, you stepped back slightly with a more dramatic wave. “A throne is a seat for the King, your grace.” Jon took his turn to roll his eyes, and with no decorum took the few steps up and sat down with no care for the authority of it.

Looking at him, a throne suited him yet didn’t. He looked right in something that was commanding of authority but there was not a shred of ego attached to many who sat there or the Iron Throne. His eyes, bright and grey shining in the light as he looked up brightly at you. You grinned with a shake of your head, “I change my mind. I don’t think I like the image of you in some large, godly throne.” Meeting his eyes, your tone lowered as your gaze shined with mostly just admiration. “You’re too humble for this sort of place.”

Hair pulled all back, and dressed down in nothing like that showing his status of a King. He looked like any other Northerner outside, and it didn’t look right with the ornate stones that sat in an empty room to rule over. “Maybe I’m missing the most important part.”

Before a fluster could come over you, you pulled the skirt of your dress back with a light yell of amusement as he reached out to try and snatch you, no doubt about to yank you onto his lap. A laugh leaving both of you as you stepped back more when he stood up. “That isn’t how it works, I’ve never known a good King to yank women down onto his lap during court.”

Stepping closer to your side, Jon cupped the back of your head to press a kiss to your forehead as he turned to the space of the room. “That’s assuming they think I’m a good King in the first place.” Looking around for a moment, Jon only sighed as you watched him. Still a few feet away as your hands found themselves wringing mindlessly in front of you. “Some days I still worry they look at me and are waiting to see when I finally start being like Robb. I can’t be Robb, I know he was a good King but I don’t know how I’m supposed to be one of my own.”

He was surrounded by Kings on this island now. Stannis and now Aegon, both men with vivid identities as Kings. Watching him move to sit on the small steps leading up to the throne. You looked to the chair and finally out to the room, voice somewhat echoing in the quiet space. Every remembered Queen was for horrible reasons, but you also knew that good Kings were not easily come by, and not for what people remembered.

Stepping a bit closer to where he sat, you kept your eyes around the room. “You shouldn’t have to figure that out.” Jon turned slightly to look back at you in confusion but your attention was in the details carved into the high walls. “Most Kings striving to be good ones never quite saw past their own titles.”

“Like who?”

Eyes squinting in thought, you had some easy answers to that. “Everyone still speaks highly of Baelor the Blessed. Most would call him a good King. The small folk loved him for his charity and he built the Sept of Kings Landing. He also imprisoned his own sisters in the Red Keep beacuse he believed their beauty would tempt him into corruption, and ended up starving himself to death beacuse he thought food was filling his mind with lust.”

Glancing down you could see the twisting grimace on Jon’s face at the sheer idea of it. Not only merely locking his own sisters away but the reason being to not be tempted by their beauty? Some things never quite became less gross and uncomfortable the older you both got.

“Aegon the Unlikely was known as a good King. Was known to dislike most of his families..strange traditions and knew the common people well. He almost had a peaceful rule, then he tried hatching a dragon egg at Summerhall and killed numerous people including himself.” Your tone with a small bit of an unsettled bite against it at your eyes looked to nothing, “Then once his son had the throne he, and then his son, undid every good reform done before them.”

“What about your Uncle?” Looking back to Jon, a genuine curiosity was on his face and not a shred of mocking or malice as so many spoke of the man now. “He won the rebellion, ended the Mad King’s reign, kept the peace his entire rule.”

You almost smiled, coming up to his side properly, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you sat down on the small steps beside him. “He did, but Robert also attended only four small council meetings in twenty four years. He instead chose to spend his days hunting, drinking and sleeping with any women which weren't his wife.” Your brows narrowed with a bit more of a distant mutter.

Inhaling deeply you looked back up, the room now much larger from such a low point as you at least felt Jon’s warmth against the chilling air. “Three good kings, one who locked his sisters away from his own lust, another who got himself and others killed trying to revive dragons, and a man who thought that winning and ruling were the same thing.”

Finding each others eyes, his tone was deep and rasping as he muttered, “So which one am I closer to? I’d like to think at least two of those three don’t actually describe me.” A breathy laugh shared between both of you as you leaned more to look at him better, once more finding not a King but just a man before you.

Were you realizing you were openly looking at him in such a genuine admiring manner you didn’t know, but Jon certainly did, as did he pick up the gentle tone from your lips. “You’re better then all of them, beacuse you’re not trying to rule as a King. Just a man who wants to protect his people. That’s the difference. You’re fighting for survival, for the innocent who can’t fight beside you.” His eyes painted with tenderness as he looked deeply into yours, transfixing you from ever being able to break that spell.

“And Stannis? Aegon? What are they?”

Quiet for only a moment, you leaned more into Jon’s side. His arm easily wrapping around your waist to pull you snug into him. “They both fought for the right to be called King. I won’t shame them for it, but that does mean they still have a long way to go.” His free hand on the other side sat close enough you found yourself mindlessly toying with his fingers or tracing along his palm. “They want the Iron Throne, while soon you and I are sailing back to our frozen waste of a home with no throne or crowns to welcome us back, and at this point that’s more then I could possibly ask for.”

Pressing another kiss to the side of your head he muttered in your hair, “Could always make you a crown if you wanted. A nice pretty one with painted metal and carved wolves all over.”

When you laughed, he laughed into your hair even more. “We both know I would look positively ridiculous wearing a crown, Snow.”

Another kiss, a deeper rasp closer to your ear as he pressed another just below it. “Maybe if it were the only thing you were wearing, it wouldn’t.”

Turning instantly to look at him, a bit of a darker tint in his eyes as he looked into yours then shamelessly down to your lips and back. A look that was desperate to be lecturing but was verging on an accidental sultry at the feeling in your veins. Leaning in playfully instead to hover closer to his lips, “Well, if my King commands it.”

It took Jon a moment, but he eventually let out a frustrated sigh that made you laugh far louder then it should have. His brows narrowing defeated as he opened his eyes once more, rolling them and yanking you back to rest at his side. One arm of yours wrapping behind his back as the other reached to rest gently more by his stomach. Voice husking into your side, “It’s like you want me to pin you down where anyone could walk in.”

Muttering quite quietly that maybe you did, and Jon only grumbled more. Muttering something about how much you drive him crazy, all the while his hand ran along your side soothingly and your heads occasionally nuzzling the other as you enjoyed what small quiet you two were allowed to share on your days in this place.

Leaving for the North couldn’t come fast enough. He had been wanting to take you home the second you had left for White Harbour.

There had been almost too much of a crowd in the docks, men moving every which way and yelling thrown across ships. Navigating through them all for you at least was a bit on the easier side, not terribly dissimilar to working around the dense harbour of King’s Landing.

Not much was keeping many here now. Jon’s place was back North now that he had secured the one resource of Dragonstone he required, whereas Aegon and Jon Connington would move into the Stormlands and start their southern war on the mainlands. No one could make them believe, or force them to join this cause. If waging a new war was their choice, they had to be allowed to leave and make that for themselves.

Allies would start to choose sides, and once more the North would be forgotten until they decided they needed it, but they will not draw these people back into it. Your last victories compiled together high enough that when the wind blew it over the destruction left lands in tatters. Now the war which mattered most in the North was the one to protect the people before the storms could come.

If you even could.

“Strange seeing you the one acting in such a role.” Turning from your crew, approached your father with a squinting look in the bright sun of the afternoon. Gesturing with a slight nod to the side, they cleared way to leave the two Baratheon’s as alone as could be in such a place. Looking around you didn’t make much eye contact when you returned.

Air high in your tone, you sounded more casual then once intended perhaps. “If you are playing me, you could always find a high point on rocks to sit at, watch me leave until your septa yells at you to come down.”

Stannis eyes brightened just a tad bit, arms crossing over his chest as he stepped closer so you didn’t have to shout quite as much. Moving a bit to the side allowing passing men to run by to whatever task they had. “Perhaps if you had listened to her more often, she wouldn’t have felt the need to be harsh with you.” Barley mustering a laugh, you wondered if it was as difficult for your father to accept the distance never growing shorter between you as it was for many to understand.

It was not a farewell made of forever, yet it sat in the air heavy between you both begging to be treated like one did an actual family. Your voice coming up from deep in your stomach with a strained sternness, “You’re aware they are going to march on Storm’s End once we leave.” Your father nodded. “You need to let them take it.” His eyes looking doubtful, but it needed to come from you , there was no hiding. “It was your home, it is our ancestral seat, but if you fight them for Storm’s End then you are drawing your men into their battle on land. Once Aegon declares his claim publically, anyone making their presence known will be drawn into another war, and we cannot afford to be involved in it. Not anymore.”

Stannis’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly without any gaze within them truly changing, a curiosity that looked non existent to the non observable. Tone just as flat only with the lightest tint of the same feelings under, “We dedicated over four years of our lives fighting wars just like his, it isn’t so easy to turn your back on all of it.”

“It is if you choose to do so.” Yelling echoed over the quiet of the conversation yet it felt as it they muffled and faded into nothing. “I have people trapped in the Riverlands that I have no way of rescuing, good people who put their life on the lines for the North and in return I can’t even get anywhere near them without sending myself or any men with me into a slaughter. And it bothers me that I have to just let them think they’ve been abandoned so I can be in the North and fight the one war that will come for us all.”

There was one person in particular that you would never be able to bring home, and before the fires and chanting returned you interrupted whatever your father was about to say, attempting to push past that horror from taking that space again. “I have to abandon some of my people to save more of them, but if you leave here to fight whatever Iron Throne battles come of his arrival? You’ll be fighting those battles forever.”

Looking intently at you, your father managed to get out, “It is relieving to hear you starting to sound like a Queen once more.” Your gaze hardened, pleading him not to bring it up. Not right now. “I am glad coming back from the dead didn’t rid you of your manners.”

The power to not roll your eyes at your father was a strength not many were blessed with.

“I know you have a duty to the throne, your claim. But winter will come for the south sooner then any of them think. Don’t die in the Stormlands fighting their battles when that happens.” Before you could contemplate how you both were supposed to say goodbye, rescue came in the form of Jon coming to his side.

They shook hands, and you were glad the attention drifted from you right away. “Never seen you look quite so out of place.” Your father spoke to Jon in a tone lighter then he did you, and were you not so preoccupied with many a thoughts, you might have mustered enough amusement to consider that if you married Jon, your father would finally have the son he’s always wanted. In a round about way at the least.

He did best he could with you, but you knew too well for a commander such as him, war was easier then daughters. Sons to him were as simple as any other man in at his command, and he and Jon found that ease at least. “I never lived near the sea, there’s not a lot I know about sailing that most men here don’t already know better.”

Your father with a light amusement that only spoke deep hidden in his eyes as he gestured to you with a tilt of his head. “Watch her long enough on the journey back, and I’m certain it will be easy to pick up on it. Not exactly quiet she is out on the open water.”

Face twisting, you swallowed protest of the sheer audacity to act as if that was not behaviour as a captain you had learned directly from him. Robert hadn’t been the only Baratheon man who had a bossing set of lungs on him. Arms crossing over your chest, your eyes spotted a figure.

Striking blue hair watching, and you knew Aegon was trying not to feel relieved that you were leaving his shores. Were it not the quickest way to rile him up in an unhelpful manner, you may have had half the thought to tell him if he truly wanted to try again against you, you knew how to get to the Trident from Winterfell but you knew that wouldn’t go over well.

Still, the honesty in his claims, the way he insisted in his aunt’s brutality across the Narrow Sea as something to fear. Aegon himself had done nothing to prove such a threat, but you could hear that set of lungs on your Uncle that day yelling about how honour didn’t keep his Kingdoms in line. You too, could hear Lord Varys and the thought didn’t feel good as you looked at Aegon across the way.

“It is a terrible thing we must consider, a vile thing. Yet we who presume to rule, must sometimes do vile things for the good of the realm.”

Were you right the whole time about her, Lord Varys?

Was the horror of murdering an unborn child the thing which blinded you to the truth of what she could be capable of? Beacuse now you knew what losing a child like that felt, and you couldn’t stop but think though that she had lived and no word was spoken of a child. Both women with claims of Queen who lost a child, but did the flames of green in the bay of your home mean you had let that turn you into the kind of cruelty spoken of her?

You desperately hoped not, but so much was hard to see with any clarity now.

He was much like how so many of you started, a boy of summer trying to play King until he was ready to be a true one. When Aegon became that, you hoped it was not the footsteps of a father by birth or the influence of an aunt ruling with fire that judged his actions. Hope was not lost, he might be good for the realm should it stay standing one the snow melts, but it would be up to he he chooses to become.

Daenerys Targaryean had let herself follow a path close to her father. Aegon could become Rhaegar if he pursued it, but you saw little of him no matter how much the two of you despised one another.

The night sea should have been soothing, it was a quiet waters with little waves and only a wind to cool off those coming from deeper below deck, and yet it was a commotion that had so many come to gather and disturb the sights. It had happened before, happened to others and some even watching had it happen to them, but not this intense.

It hadn’t horrified the way this one did. But whatever was showing you this, disturbed the peace of the night you had on the journey to White Harbour. A peace that you all desperately needed.

He had found you in the small captains quarters, leaned up against a small table pushed to the side as if not a single rock of the ship even gave notice in your mind. In another life, Jon considered the idea that instead of Highgarden, perhaps he could find a new fantasy. Finding love in a beautiful girl dreaming of travelling the seas and he the only man safe enough to protect you on his own ship as he brought you to whichever ports you desired.

It would perhaps be a bit nicer then the fate waiting for you all. The one that stood behind the only thing keeping safe the realm. And the some eight hundred men between all three forts guarding the Wall. At this rate Jon was contemplating the reasonability of requesting whatever prisoners Aegon takes hostage, he send to the Wall instead of whatever he chooses to do with them.

Two hundred men once loyal to the Boltons and instead of watching them in his lands knowing the horrors they stood by Roose and Ramsay for, he sent them to the Wall with instructions for each commander to not take it easy on them. Edd, much to Jon’s silent chagrin, was more then eager to show them what kind of discipline was to be expected from them that point on.

Now thousands of miles away, Jon watched your eyes trained deep in thought on the dragonglass in your hand, something more like confusion seeking an answer in your eyes on it.

You hadn’t even noticed he walked in, the black glass like stone turning in your hands as it did not provide a shred of help for why it was something to fight back with. It just looked like any sort of stone but it somehow did the one thing many would likely need to defend themselves. How many thousands of years had it all been down there with no use?

How did the First Men figure out it worked, and why in the thousands of years since did no one find any more answers to the far more pressing questions which followed this one. Catching sight of Jon in your peripheral vision, you flipped it mindlessly in your hand as he tossed off most of his outer layers. His voice low as he stepped towards you. “I’m starting to think when the time comes, I should just cover you with dragonglass.” Your eyes flickered up to his in a bemused question, “The way you jump into fights, think you’d need it.”

Forcing a smirk down your throat, you looked back at the stone. “I don’t jump into fights, only ones that I think are important to not stay out of.” Hand opening in front of you, you let the dagger drop gently into Jon’s hand as he stepped into your space.

Giving a glance of doubt, you raised an eyebrow in challenge to elaborate. Muttering low as he looked it over trying to imagine the bravery it would’ve taken Sam to shove this into one of those thing’s not even sure it would work. “When we’re back in the North we need to start planning out how to train our people.” Reaching an arm to rest the dagger on the table beside you, keeping it there as he stepped into your space more, his other hand toying with the strands of hair laying loose by your shoulder. “As much as I wish you didn’t have to fight, this time everyone is going to need to, and it isn’t going to be a popular idea..”

Meeting your eyes, one of your hands rested at his hip while the other trailed along the laces of his last layer covering his torso. “I only started to learn how to fight beacuse you taught me.” Fingertips trailing up what of his bare chest you could reach beyond the soft material. “And it wasn’t on the field of battle where I died. I reckon that means the rest of them have fairly good odds.”

You didn’t comment that his jaw clenched as you swung such a door back open once more. As much as you didn’t like thinking about his, he still didn’t like thinking of yours and you understood. He had thought you dead far longer then you to him. “I have no idea what this fight is going to look like, but after how many of the free folk died at Hardhome, I can’t leave anything up to chance no matter who they are” Brows narrowing you could see a twisting fall on his face trying to work it out as he did most of his days. “The first wight I killed was over four years ago and I’m no closer to figuring out how to stop them.”

The hand on his chest rose up, tilting his face gently to find yours as your thumb ran over his cheek. As you sat up the slightest, the hand on the table you felt had made his way to your waist. “Fire, Valyrian steel, dragonglass..I’d say you are already three steps ahead of the rest of the population on what to do.” Sighing lightly at your words, you then had his eyes fluttering shut with a shakier breathe as you trailed your hand now to run through his curls, loose to the world. “One thing at a time. For now, we go home, and we start having them run drills, daily if we have to. We do that first, then we figure out what comes next.”

Smirking lightly to himself, a glint in his eye swam over as he danced his hand in your hair down to trace the sensitive skin of your neck. “Second.” Your eyes narrowed in question with a slight tilt of your head. “That’s second. There’s something more important we need to do when we first get back.”

Grasping for straws until your wonder turned to almost an incredulity as his eyes shined brightly with nothing but a genuine smile. “Jon, that is certainly not more important. We have nothing prepared even, why would we-”

“You have nothing prepared.” The smirk turned more mischievous, causing you to bite your tongue trying not to let it infect you as well. You were failing miserably. The playfulness in you dropped, leaving but a wash of a gentle awe left in your eyes that any but Jon might have mistakened for sadness. His hand on your waist toyed with the soft material, looking down at you innocently.

Leaning up, you met his eyes only for a second before slipping closed. Finding Jon’s lips in a soft kiss, his hand cupping your jaw and cheek tenderly as he stepped into you.

Without any lustful intentions behind it, Jon grabbed you by the hips, lifting you up and back enough to sit you on the wooden surface behind you before leaving to push the skirt of your dress up your legs enough he could make himself space to stand between them. His touch at your cheek returning once more as you gently let him kiss you more, never deepening it but keeping you there until he sensed you needed the air more urgently then he did.

Grabbing both sides of your cheeks he moved you, leaning your head down enough to press a kiss against your hair. Your own hands toyed with the edges of his shirt, sliding under to run along his torso, skipping past each mark as to force such an image out of your mind. Not giving up the touch, he rested his forehead against yours. “Feels like we’re making stories up again. Under the Weirwood talking about what other life we could be together, it feels just like as soon as we step off this ship you’ll go right back to being someone else’s I could never dream of having.”

Moving up, you pressed another kiss to his lips before nudging his nose with yours, your hands winding around the back of his neck. “Better do it quick soon as we get back then. It’s much harder to annul a marriage after it has been consummated.”

A deep chuckle returned, his lips brushing against yours with every word spoken as his touch on your cheeks grew a bit tighter. Voice that of a deep husk with hot breathe dancing across your skin, “I think you and I are long past that by now.” Jon kissed right beside your mouth, then one more just at the skin under you ear before rasping into it. “They’d be able to do even less if I give you a child.”

Shivering in his touch, he knew too well it wasn’t from the cold air. Your breath hitched and voice a high pitched strain a your nails dug a bit into his neck from a growing desire in your nerves. “Hard to split a man and wife apart once they’ve brought a little prince or princess into the world.”

His lips pressed hot against your neck, never committing to a bite or roughness but enough to toy with you. Enough it burned your insides, legs tightening a bit around Jon’s hips as he stepped into you with purpose. Pressing his covered cock against your core, you could feel it hardening as it was pressed right against the only fabric hiding it from him. “You think I’m only giving you one or the other?” His lips against your neck pressing a little harsher, a little more of a nibble against the skin.

A whine left your mouth before you could stop it. The second it did, Jon’s teeth bared against your neck and didn’t move. His sounds more like a growl as one hand moved to force your hips forward, pressed right against his covered cock as he pushed himself more into you. Your nails dug more as they dropped to his shoulders, and the second your exhale came out with a whimper a the pressure between your legs, Jon had enough games.

Not stepping back, he only leaned away slightly as he wasted no more time yanking your dress up and off you. A lack of any care where it landed as he tore his own shirt off to the pile. Large, calloused hands grasped your hip slinking to what he could feel was an already soaked material only now in his way. Only stepping back from you enough to pull it down, eyes so dark they never left yours as even just here your breathe picked up in need.

Swallowing another whimper in your throat as Jon pulled your legs apart, and making sure you kept his eyes as one hand slunk between your legs. Face hardening as he exhaled rough through his nose at his fingers finding you already wet. Gathering a good amount together before moving two fingers to your clit, running tightly around the sensitive bud as you gasped. Grasping around his shoulders as you tried arching into him. But he kept you at bay, making you stay locked to his eyes.

Your insides burned and twisted, sparks of pleasure sharp through you as he roughly rubbed your clit, only to stop your lungs in agony entirely when just as tight circles were making you shudder, those same two fingers trailed down your wetness. The other hand keeping your other leg sitting wide leaving it’s task to gently tilt your head up, looking him so close in the eye by your chin as he sunk his fingers deep inside you. Dark eyes scouring your face as you cried out, arching into him as that pleasure screamed in flames around you. Dragging them right along something desperately sensitive that had you cry out until he was sunk to the knuckle.

Pulling them halfway out before sinking back deep, heel of his palm rough against your clit as the wetness from inside you soaked all between you, to the point each time Jons fingers pushed back deep you could hear it. He didn’t kiss you, or even say much of anything just watching you with black eyes and a clenched jaw as you tightened around him.

Just as he pulled them out, a whine leaving you as your palms pressed against his chest did a third slid in with the others. Three of his fingers, thick and deep sliding soaked along your sensitive walls as his eyes watched you trying to contain your cries. Rubbing the heel of his palm against your clit without any care of being gentle with it, your hips jolting as your core twisted and turned ready to snap a your body flooded with fire.

Hands curling into his shoulders, your head dropped with a whine as your eyes closed as the need filled you, only to have Jon nudge your chin to look back up at him. A furrowed brow with a disapproving frown on his face as if you needed permission to look away from him. Which you didn��t dare disobey again. Sliding in and out only as you tightened around him did Jon pull from you, not giving your lungs a chance to catch up.

Kneeling down he yanked you by your hips to his mouth, licking up how utterly soaked you already were and teasing back at licking and sucking your clit and running his tongue flat against you down to drink from deep inside. Your hips and thighs already were bruising from the touch.

A hum from Jon vibrated inside of you, making you clench harder and causing him in turn again to hum more in satisfaction as he kept you tugged right against him. Whatever you were soaked with before, Jon made it worse. His work sloppy with intention, soaking you with his mouth and it only made you cry out, a hand gentle in his curls as you soaked him more and more. Which he licked from deep inside, keeping your thighs as far apart as he could as he did so.

“Fuck, wait, Jon-”

His hands tightened and now almost left a grunt between your legs as he shamelessly ran his tongue along your folds to your clit and back. The tightening in your core approached so quickly, and you had no idea if he would even let you. You couldn’t tell when he wanted you to feel only good and when Jon was toying with you.

Moving your hips to raise up just slightly so Jon could shift his angle, keeping your legs wide but now he could almost tilt his face down into your cunt, and he could reach far deeper with his tongue. Shaking instantly at the sparks before they let loose with no warning.

One hand on your thigh reached back to tightly grip one of your ass cheeks, while he hooked the other under your knee and kept it pressed against him over his shoulder. Your orgasm swimming through you and gifted right onto his tongue as he didn’t let up for a second.

Your cries tried so hard not to be loud, almost painfully your throat hurt trying to stay quiet and your lungs burned as did your blood. Your orgasm soaking his mouth as he so desperately wanted, Jon licked back up to your clit until your cries were sharp and panicked, the desire too much but he didn’t stop.

Shaking your head as did your limbs, “I- Jon, please, I can’t..”

But he didn’t give the plea much care. Tongue licking your clit and then back to lapping deep inside of you, you shook in his touch as your head dropped back, the hand not tight in his curls was gripping the edge of the table so much your knuckles strained. One nibble to your clit before grunting into you did you snap again before you even came down.

Tears watering your eyes as you almost split your own lip trying to keep the cries at bay. Your core ached in the strain of how much the second orgasm washed through you. Jon drinking every bit you had to offer with almost an anger should you try to move away before he was done.

Even when he was the one on his knees, you still, were the prey at Jon’s mercy.

Finally coming back to you, his lips shining from how much you coated him, Jon roughly bit at your lips himself. Rough enough that he knew he had split it for you, but your gasp and hands rushing to pull him into you more, Jon licked inside your mouth, coating your tongue with the taste of you on his. One hand kept down between you, as the other ran through your hair before gripping it tightly, tilting your head up to his lips as he was as deep and greedy here as he was between your legs.

Just as your hands raked through his hair, just as Jon’s tongue brushed against yours, he wrapped his other arm around your waist and before you had even come down to earth to sense it, his cock, red, thick and already leaking pushed deep inside of you.

Your walls still clenching from your orgasms, Jon seemed to snarl into your mouth before biting your bottom lip again, hand now on your jaw keeping you angled to where he could be the one to control how you had to sit back and take him.

Rough thrusts of his cock deep inside, shallow and barley moving from you as your hips almost ached at the strain. Your hands on instinct clawed at his back, red trails of nail sets raking down as he shook and growling into your mouth. His hand in your hair tightening as he pulled back, saliva still trailed before snapping as he looked dark at you. Only to tilt his gaze down, and his hand moved, your forehead now tilted to the same angle pressed against his as you both watched how much his hips slapped into yours.

Hands holding desperate in his hair as you cried out. The fire within consuming you as the room faded only around Jon, something sharply twisting with almost pain that you would cry and beg for more of should it be taken away. The sounds from you were a muffled quiet, and Jon was silent. Jaw harshly clenched with blown out, black eyes and a loud slapping of his skin as his cock pounded roughly into you.

You whimpered his name, the pleasure tightening too much and begging to flood with a snap as he glanced up to your eyes. Still black, but much softer then when watching his cock sink into you, Jon nodded. Lips parted slightly as he held you against his cock’s rough treatment, voice a tender husk through it all. “Cum for me, darling,” Nodding at you gently, “I know, you can cum, it’s alright.”

So high in the clouds, you for a moment almost didn’t believe him until his kiss pressed soft to your lips, opposite between your legs. Hands wrapping around his shoulders once more nails in his back, your orgasm came faster then you wanted, but so did his then he wanted.

As you were so tight around him, Jon could only manage one, two, maybe six more thrusts each rather rough and aggressive to sink deep inside you. Almost too roughly, but his hands one around your head to hold you into him, he other pushing your ass more to take his cock deep inside. Cum far too warm to be fair as he filled you with his thick seed.

You gasped for air in his neck as Jon shook in his breathing and body as he spilled inside you, your hips jolting in too much pleasure caused you to whimper at the feeling. Jon pulling back, raking his fingers through your hair, and leaving a gentle kiss to your lips between soothing shushes. “I’ve got you,” Nodding against him, he felt your muscles sink into his touch as he let the rest of his seed fill you.

Jon had wanted to take this to the bed, but as you looked up at him, eyes bright and wide with lips begging to be kissed. Jon was nothing but gentle, pulling out of you as he kissed you to ease the whine of the loss inside.

By the time you both were in bed, Jon laying partially over you as he kissed you. No tongue, no teeth or force or wandering hands. Just a gentle soothing touch along your scar as the other hand tilted your head to the side. Neither of you finding the strength to stray from the others lips and touch. You felt yourself fading at one point, and Jon never once bothered to clean what of his seed had been painted just on the inside of your thighs.

He wanted him to cover you as much as he wanted it all to spill deep inside your cunt. He didn’t however, quite realize that while your voices couldn’t be heard, the smacking of skin echoed through and sounded almost as aggressive as the table which each pound of his cock inside you, would slam against the ship walls.

No one needed to hear your cries to know that a strong wolf had taken you for himself that night. Some things between one wolf King to the other while taking his Queen, weren’t quite so different after all.

It wasn’t a dream, it was a memory. Both figures asleep in the others arms, your dream looking at that of a memory from years long passed. Only you appeared in your walk through that day was just as you were then. Only you walked without a notice that this was a memory or dream, and not knowing that Jon was as himself, realizing he was once more in your memory. He himself, not seeing who in fact, was too, following him.

At first Jon was on the black stone path, walking alongside a group heading towards the castle as a man he did not recognize came to greet the figures beside him. A few were maesters, and some looked like healers or apothecaries, most walked right by directed by guards as a younger one closed the gap with a steady handshake.

The older one spoke first with a more defeated look in his eye. “Matthos.”

“Lord Alester.” Dropping the firm handshake, it seemed the younger one was the farrier to bring some of those men earlier to shore. A look of sorrow fell over both though quickly. “Is it as bad as they say? My father tried to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but I could see he was worried.”

The other man, Lord Alester, patted the man on the back as he turned him to walk up the path as well. Jon following beside as if he was part of this group but instead trapped watching a memory play like a dream he could not escape or control. “Worse. I’ve never seen Selyse quite like this before, barley can get through the day without crying.” The younger man mentioned your name with a concerned question in his tone as the older one grimaced. “She was the one who discovered it, if that tells you anything.”

Nodding, Matthos sighed deeply. Glancing up to where Lord Alester pointed, both Jon and the man in the dream looked around the castle to see arrows. Many arrows scattered about embedded within the eyes of the many dragons carved into the structure. “So she is taking it well, clearly.”

“Everything the girl’s been through, and now it’s been a fortnight since she’s even been allowed in the same tower as Shireen? Can’t leave the castle walls, can’t send or receive any ravens.” Whistling, he winced through his teeth. “Poor girl even had a gift from one of those friends of hers in the North, unopened and everything. Her septa made her burn it, said they couldn’t risk anything foreign that could have spread it. Now I think the girl’s spending most of her days avoiding the woman as much as she is shooting arrows into eyes.”

Jon felt odd, if this was a dream why did he know what they were referring too? He had given you a gift right before you left, it wasn’t ready exactly on your twelfth nameday and he had spent a lot of money and worked very hard to ensure it was perfect for you. You never said a word about it, and it twisted uncomfortably in his stomach thinking was this true?

Was this dream a lie, beacuse you treasured every other gift he’d given you over the years but that one was the only time your silence made him nervous. He had thought it was too forward, too obvious and perhaps it was beacuse you were never allowed to open it.

The septa in question, stormed out of one of the tower doors as she paid no mind to Jon. Like everyone else, he did not exist. He was only a spectator. Only, he was not the only spectator. But the shorter one, knew Jon couldn't see him as the memory couldn't see either of them.

Her tone was short and her face twisted into an unpleasant lecturing one much like Jon could recall Septa Mordane walking around with on Arya’s bad days. “Lord Alester, I swear to all the gods that child is going to send me into an early grave. She’d rather play with her bow then have her lessons like a lady.”

Huffing about, Matthos and Lord Alester looked more amused then agreeing. Lord Alester trying to placate her, “She has gone through a lot, give her some patience she is upset.”

Letting out a “Pshh,” she shook her head. “I’ve told her father time and time again, he needs to stop sending her North. Everytime she comes back she gets harder and harder to control.”

Just as Jon stepped forward as if he was anything but a spectre, Matthos did it for him with a tone which reminded him like one would speak as a brother. “Lord Stark has done much for her, she’s learned a lot don’t undermine her progress. The North had been good for her-”

Dismissive, the septa waved him off. “Good as long as she’s with Lord Stark. As soon as she spends any time with those boys of his? All they are doing is teaching her how to come home and behave like a wild animal.” Jon’s eyes narrowed at what just may be a dream figure of no reality. He and Robb were your first true friends and he had spent a lot of your last visit, if this indeed was taking place after your twelfth name day, trying to break you out of your shell.

Teach you it was okay to have fun and not listen exclusively to what your father orders of you. He had seen you laugh and smile that visit more then the previous ones combined, most of which were when you were spending time with him. He had snuck into your room right before you fell asleep, tossing his cloak at you and dragging you out of bed to go for a ride to a nearby lake. He wanted you to have fun without feeling guilty.

“Well she can prove it by coming down here and stop hiding from me like a child-” All of the group real or not, suddenly whipped their heads to the side, as perhaps only a foot above the woman’s head right in the mouth of a statue was an arrow. A good shot. All turned to look up at what happened.

You at twelve, walking the high walls of Dragonstone with a more sullen and cold look on your face then normal. At your back was a quiver of arrows, and a bow hanging around your arm. Your septa yelling at you to come down at once, and all you did was turn on the spot and walk along the edged walls higher up the curtain passes on the castle edge. Both unseen figures, now following.

The higher you went, the more the wind blew loudly around you and yet you knew there was little chance you would fall at this point. Coming up to what was the Stone Drum Tower, atop was a fierce dragon and in your eyesight was a lit torch licking away in the wind. Bracing both hands on the edge you hauled yourself up onto a small space big enough for only two feet standing perfectly still.

One arrow pulled from the quiver at your back, setting into your bow as you swung it off your shoulder and around your person to the front. Looking up to the wind, your eyes squinting just slightly at the pressure hitting them so high up. But regardless, you raised your bow and drew.

In one fell swoop, the arrow shot through the windy air, flew right into the middle of the torch flame and was extinguished just as fast as the arrowhead slammed into what would be right at the dragon’s heart. No victory followed, or jest of a good shot. Just the wind.

But as you stood there, you could see the Sea Dragon Tower not too far, and if you looked hard enough you knew getting to Maester Cressen’s quarters would be easy and from there you could get to the ravens. You had written this one out in haste, too much time on your own and a worry of Shireen’s life turning what you had written off as an anxiety turned into fear.

It was a bit rambling at first, apologizing to Jon that your septa made you throw his gift out before you could open it, but then going on about the flames. And the more you read, the more the memory in your mind of what happened was so vivid you knew it was real.

But you couldn’t stop the worry that Jon would read this, and think you either playing childish games or just crazy. But you had looked up to the candle light that evening, and transfixed on it showed you images that startled you up and off your seat, sending a bottle of ink all over your dress and the stone, mere minutes before you had discovered the greyscale on Shireen.

What it said though, what was written on the raven scroll? That was even more insane. Seeing a vision in the flames sounded off your rocker as it was, but to tell Jon what you thought you saw in the flames?

He just may suggest to his father never to let you come back with how delusional it made you sound, no matter how much you could see it all so clearly. A pounding in your heart, you stood up on that wall edge and tore the raven scroll up. Letting the pieces scatter in the wind, telling yourself that you were focusing on the wrong things.

You told yourself that stupid fire vision was just something you made up to cope with what was happening to Shireen. You were twelve, you couldn’t go running to Jon like a child everytime you had a frightening daydream. He would be turning fifteen soon, so you had to shut your mouth and grow up.

But then you caught sight of it. Off in the distance in the woods beyond the castle walls, a rustling in the trees that shouldn’t be there. There was nothing on this island which would be big enough to see from where you stood, so you walked.

A short hop from the stone walls to the cliff side and you made your way swiftly down to the woods ground with a huff. Eyes narrowed and sharp as you walked through the dim and sparse, lifeless woods until you reached the clearing you saw.

There weren’t deer here, not naturally. And certainly not three of them. Two were large, a female and the other large stag. Both littered with pockets of spurting blood with nothing you could see that did it. Right up against the females stomach was the same image but of a baby deer, and it was as bloody and dead as the rest.

Kneeling down with a sickening unknown on your face you looked over them, nothing killed them that you knew were in these woods, or how these three even got here..but just as you looked morosely at the baby, a strained crying came from the female.

The mother making horrid noises that made you wince, still alive but only just. She shouldn’t be in pain like this, that was cruel. Coming around, you knelt behind her head, one hand running gently over her with gentle shushes. “It’s okay, it’s okay girl.” Using a free hand you pulled a small dagger as you almost hummed soothingly at her. “I won’t let you be in pain, it’ll be alright.”

You swallowed heavily as you ran the knife into her, but it ended the moment you did.

Nothing of the scene made sense, but you felt shaking in your bones. Standing up you walked to the creek, more like a somewhat deep puddle of water stretching across dead woods, you knelt down in front of it. Washing the blood from the blade before carefully putting it back, and then moving to run your hands through the same water rinsing what red would otherwise quickly stain it.

But then you realized, someone followed you here. Someone was watching you, and if you were being honest, if it was Allard, you were about to be very angry. Just as he snuck up on you, you felt him large behind your knelt figure. If he thought you couldn’t tell he was there, he was a moron.

Grabbing your shoulder gently, you whipped around to yell at him, only to almost fall over. He wasn’t behind you. He wasn’t anywhere. You were in a clearing, there was nowhere to run but no one was behind you.

Standing up in a wide eyed uneasiness, you turned to look around. There was nothing in the woods, but you felt a hand grab you gently. Someone was right there and yet as you looked around the clearing there was not a soul to be found.

The problem was, that was where visions and dreams for the night ended for Jon but morphed in your mind to something else without notice of a difference.

Standing in a field, grass around far and wide and rolling hills all around as far as the eye could see. In front of you was a little girl, very small, perhaps three at the oldest. She stayed knelt down by a cliff side playing, her face so young she had yet to even grow out of the chubbiness of a young one’s cheeks.

But as you stepped towards her, you both felt a rumbling. A shake of the earth and a rattling like it opened up, only it wasn’t the earth. Over the cliff side flew up that of a dragon.

One that had the little girl fall back, and you stepped back a foot in terror. It was scaled black, and with eyes that looked vicious and horribly menacing. It didn’t look hungry. There were sheep behind you if your ears hadn’t previously deceived you, yet it did not go for them. But the dragon was large, not as large as the skull in the lower halls of Kings Landing but not so far off it was inconceivable. But you could not move, you or the little girl.

She started to breathe heavy in sobbing gasps of terror and your eyes widened, lips falling open as the dragon braced itself and suddenly you were both engulfed in flames. The sound of a dragons roar and the flames around you, only for a second did you hear the little girl scream before her voice vanished as your limbs all shocked you.

Trapped only on your two feet, once the flames stopped did the dragon swoop up and fly to the right of you. Your head whipping around to watch and then there was a boy.

A boy who was rather young, perhaps only just entering his teenhood with long, shaggy hair and standing on two feet. He looked at you and not once at the dragon, his face in a desperation as if asking you something but you couldn’t hear it. Your muscles all screamed and stabbed with knives in agony.

Just when you realized you knew the boy who was staring at you, did you whip back to look at the little girl. But there was no little girl. Laying on the floor of a temple, was in a blanket tiny body of black charred bones. Your lungs filled with liquid and poured from your eyes as it strangled you in horror, what that dragon had done to her.

You were not there though, you stood there as a woman with a smooth voice spoke to in a language you should not know, but understood here with clarity. Your eyes soaked as you looked at her bones, and then up.

Two guards stood at the side of a grand staircase, carved trenches of water on either side as right at the top was one seat and three figures. Your terror turned to outrage at what she had caused.

The two knights at her side, were not from these lands, they were Westeros knights and you recognized at least one of them, but not the senses to understand who they were. But you looked up at this new proclaimed conqueror calling herself Queen, having her translator promise you payment a hundred times worth then lambs or sheep and that her bones will be allowed to rest in the Temple, as long as you promised not to speak of how she died.

But it was her fault, it was her dragon and you felt the fire and heard her screaming as it took her for nothing but seeking death and destruction. You could not tell if it was the guards who grabbed your arms, trying to pull you back and tear you from the room. But you in a language that was not yours, begun to scream at her.

The arms turned to that of the boy from the field, and his voice was one you knew telling you in common tongue desperately that this isn't your memory, that you needed to wake up. But either he or the guards dragged you as you stared up at this cruel silver haired conquer as you screamed through tears as if you were standing in the place of the father it really was. But his voice came out as yours and you screamed at her, repeating the little girls name. Through anger and tears yelling it was her fault and nothing she said would bring her back, forcing her to remember the little girls name was Hazzea.

But just as the boy you finally recognized called your name, he turned you around to face him, when you were back. The night sky was as dark as ever but you stood by the bow of the ship, a crowd all around you watching you as you realized it was Jon in front of you.

His hold on your forearms as an absolute terror in almost a stinging red was over his eyes as he stared at you, and you realized you had no idea what was going on. You didn’t remember waking up, you didn’t remember dressing, or leaving the cabin or coming up to the deck.

You didn’t remember that you caught everyone's attention in terror as you seemed to scream with tears in a language you didn’t speak. Jon had pushed through everyone before desperately calling your name and only when he managed to get you to face him did you see where you were.

One hand came to your waist and the other cupped your cheek as he looked down at you, eyes bright and close to a fearful cry of his own as you could feel your lungs hurt from screaming and your face stained with tears. Muttering your name gently, as he leaned in close trying to make sure you were with him.

But as you looked up at him, mouth agape and stammering for words, you looked also to the crew of your ship who all had been drawn to the deck by your display.

Looking back at Jon, you found more new tears at such an overwhelming confusion. You never had a dream quite like that, but you also had never walked in a dream and screamed in a foreign language of a bloody horror like you were. You stammered and when no words came, Jon only pulled you into him.

Your arms desperately coming around his when he did. His voice was rasping but loud as he almost angrily shouted for everyone to go back to what they were doing.

Jon though, just pulled you right into him before changing his mind and picked you up in his arms, your arms wrapping around his neck as your heart pounded in confusion and an overwhelmed anxiety like you’ve never experienced before. Jon almost with angry tears of his own moved passed everyone making a path clearing the way. Trying to contain his own terror of watching you hysterically scream like you were not actually here, he lifted one hand slightly to gently let you hide partially in his neck. Taking you away to the safety of your quarters, from such a terrifying spectacle.

All you could think the entire time as he carried you, was that of charred bones. All you could hear, were the screams of a little girl named Hazzea.

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