#Can God Help Me Save My Marriage

[seventh-district]

Sam: "Look at me. Hey- look at me a second. I know. I know you're tough. I know how strong you are. You have every right to be proud of that. But being able to handle somethin' doesn't mean you should have to. Least of all when I'm right here trying to help. Please let me help. If not for you then for me, because I don't like knowin' you're hurtin', especially when there's somethin' I can do about it."

Me, shaking my head, fighting back literal tears: "B-but it's gonna give you another headache!"

[insufferablelust]

Aemond claiming you as his 🔥 SMUT

RAVISH [BYKA ZALDRĪZES] Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Targaryen Reader

This work contains mature acts, Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

Bind by her betrothal to the rider of Vhagar, the daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen meets Aemond Targaryen to find herself getting more than she ever expected.

Words counted: 6.9k (My sincerest apologies)

Content include: 18+ MDNI! Targcest (canon incest practice of the Targaryen house), Smut, Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Heavy breeding kink, Chocking, Claiming of maidenhood, Manhandling, Slight degradation, Reader has the attributes of the Targaryens (silver hair, purple eyes etc), Mention of blood (nothing graphic).

Hello! this is my first time posting my work for any HOTD characters, thank you to the anon who requested, and special thank you & dedication to Gabrielle my friend who helped me Beta this work❤️ My request is always open for HOTD characters. English is not my native language so bear with me. Enjoy and let me know what you think! thank you my loves.

Masterlist

Rules to Request

You can feel the tightness of your evening attire wrapped around the slopes of your curves, with the long thick fabric that overlaps the bodice of your dress downwards. You stayed as still as you could when your ladies dressed you with much attentive eyes. Hands everywhere from the collar to the soles of your feet.

One of your ladies braid your silky silver hair loose but neatly, perfecting your looks for such occasions. One being the arrival of your uncle, the rider of the biggest dragon in all the realms, Aemond. You can feel the loud thumping of your heart against your ribcage, albeit constricted by the tight layers of your attire, it does not deter your nervousness.

Not only is his arrival would have significance on the chess play of the throne of the dragons, but it would bear you consequences that you, in fact, are unable to escape this fate. The fate you have little to say against. The near last wish of the king to betroth you to unite the two sides of the Targaryen blood. Marriage of dragon and dragon, hoping to conceal the gaping wound left by Viserys decisions.

Neither your mother nor your father can truly save you now as you have made your decision to choose your destiny to try and serve the realm the only way you know how. The rising tension and possible bloodshed of cousins and nieces are no longer needed, you had hoped, if you agree to this arrangement. You have no other choice than to take his hand in marriage, even if it means that you have to sacrifice your own freedom and the ambiguous name of the true heir.

You have yet to set your feelings for the rider of Vhagar, he is not only an enigma to you but, more so, a mystery that you are both eager yet scared to fully unveil. There is a part of you know that there is a darkness that surrounds his being like no other, as your brothers have always told you. However, if you are to take his hand in marriage, you would have to force yourself to see the light in him, as you wished for the Seven to guide you in your unprecedented path.

“Princess, pardon me but Her Grace, Queen Alicent has requested your presence at the gate, for Prince Aemond’s arrival.”

At once your shoulder straightened as you breathe out a heavy sigh, pulled out of your heavy thoughts by one of the servants. You smiled, and replied with a gentle “Of course, Lyana. I am to be done and head there right away.”

Closing your eyes briefly, you gathered your thoughts, and silently prayed to not only the Seven but to all old Gods of Valyria to gain you strength and will to overcome this behemoth of a challenge that is to be bestowed upon you in a matter of minutes. Opening your eyes again, you begin to shuffle your way out of the mighty wooden door, and off to your journey just outside of the Red Keep, on the gates overlooking Rhaenys Hill.

You’re accompanied by the two of your ladies as well as your trusted guard as you make your way down the castle. You can see in the distance the few people including the Queen, that has already stood patiently waiting for Prince Aemond’s arrival. You blushed as the foot of your dress sweep gracefully onto the stones below, your heart raced with anticipation of meeting your soon-to-be husband.

“Your Grace.”

You curtsied as you approached Queen Alicent, a sign of greeting and respect you have for the mother of the alleged battling heir to the throne. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you smiled as she gently touches your arm. Her smile is soft, casted as genuine, however, you can clearly see the tightness in them.

Alicent has always spared you more content than to others directly of your mother’s blood, your obedience to the crown, realm, and dedication to the Seven, helped her to overcome the dreaded raging crossfire between the two apparent heirs. Your demur soft upbringing, contented her enough to welcome you in a hug, albeit fabricated with quarrel.

“Princess, it is a delight for all of us to be blessed by your presence, in honor of the Prince, of course.” She replied, your lips set into a thin smile, as you bowed your head to Princess Helaena. Unlike to her brothers or your step aunt’s entourages, you have a knit bond with Helaena, having to endure the chaos of the brooding conflict in the throne, you both shared the same wish to cultivate what was once a peaceful reign and put an end to the family’s misery. You watched attentively as she rubbed her swollen belly, knowing full well the usurper successor of your mother’s rightful throne cradled in the form of the babe inside her body. Your eyes fleetingly meet hers as you continued to smile.

“As it was a delight for me to procure your request of my presence, Your Grace. I am of honored to be here for the Prince’s arrival.”

Alicent patted your arm one more time before you both overlook the land of King’s Landing, with the view of the Narrow Sea dances in your eyes. You were always amazed by the beauty of the realm, the blue greyish skies are your scenery, especially when you have the opportunity to ride on your dragon’s back. Oh how you wished you could just fly away to Dragonstone right about now and see your family again. Alas that too is wishful thinking.

You were suddenly halted of your longing when the sound of the bellowing of mighty Vhagar came to light, your eyes drifted to the source of such powerful force, as the silhouette of one of the greatest beast come into view. You admired her majestic wings from afar, eyes squinted at her fierceness, biting through the wind and seamlessly breaking through the clouds. As the dragon got closer to the Hill of Rhaenys, just outside the Dragonpit, you could also make out the rider of said beast.

Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Even from miles away from the ground, one would not miss the way he fiercely ride the biggest dragon alive known in all seven realms, a dragon he conquered to be his own, the dragon that came to him not when he was born yet when he was in his biggest pit of despair. Vhagar’s bond with her rider is as strong as ever, just like when she roamed the skies with Queen Visenya Targaryen once during Aegon the Conquerer’s reign.

You could make out the shadow of his being as he landed on Rhaenys Hill ever so smoothly, dismounting from the beast before patting her and giving her to the dragon keepers. You hissed in pain as you finally realized that you have been clenching your hand too tightly in front of you.

“Seven heavens dear, are you alright?”

You can hear the soft gasps, and murmurs around you, noticing how you clutched your fingertips together. You have not noticed the entire time that you had been so nervous, it numbed the pain of your even dull fingernails on the palm of your dainty hands.

“Gods.” You exclaimed feeling your palm stings, Queen Alicent noticed the whole thing, her eyebrows furrowed in worry, so did Princess Helaena. “Princess, may I accompany back to the keep? so we can clean your hands” Said Haelena softly, in which you find yourself grateful for.

A nod and curtsy came from you as you lower your head in shame, “I apologize Your Grace, My Princess, for I have unable to assuage my pain. May I please be excused to clean up?” Your voice is in the teetering edge of whimper, eyes too humiliated to stare into Alicent or Helaena’s eyes. If you could summon your dragon here and then, you would and fly away with her so you don’t ever have to come back to Kings Landing but the luck of the Seven was never truly behind you since the start.

“Very well, Princess. Please see to it that the maester is make aware of her condition, and let her heal properly.” Alicent replied sternly, her voice laced with bitter shame covered with fantom worries, and she encouraged Helaena to accompany you, stressing that it would not be much fuss that neither of you would be there to greet the one eyed Prince.

You curtsied once more, before turning away from the looks of all the ladies and lords that have awaited for the Prince’s arrival. You tried to drawn out the murmurs in the background as your hem of your dress shuffled across the cobblestone, making your way back inside the keep.

Haelena was patient as she accompanied you to the Maester’s healing chamber, making small comments so that they are well aware of your little incident. The blush on your cheeks has yet to subside nor does the pounding in your chest. The bodice strangling you from the outside, as your own fear strangled you from within.

“Niece, however are you feeling? has the pain subsided?”

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the soft ringing of Helaena’s voice, your mind eased a little hearing her, she is a soothing presence in the midst of your confusion. You may live in King’s Landing, however your soul have always been with your family, home is wherever they were, and that was Dragonstone. How you so badly wanted to be there.

“No need to be worrisome, muñus. By the will of the gods, I shall be fine. It was just my foolish mistake. I should have been more careful.” Aunt.

The last words that left your mouth were that of a whimper, small plea you made to yourself. A plea that you knew would save yourself and possibly the realm had you not make the same reckless mistake over and over again. Helaena whom has been pestering over the healers, sit down besides you. She might be your aunt by bloodline, but she is also closer to your age, knows the burden you carry with the looming threat of the crack in the lair of the dragons.

“Dare I ask what is occupying your mind, dear?”

There is a tinge of pleasant playfulness in her voice that didn’t fail to make you tilt your head and chuckled. Sighing, “None of the matter, My Princess, it is merely a big day for us all.” You looked straight into her eyes as you replied, knowing full well she would understand what does big day entailed.

“Jorrāeliarzys, a fierce dragon such as yourself need not be worry of any apprehension.”

She clicked her tongue at you like a mother scolding their child, you feel comforted by the warmth she displayed to you knowing full well all of this heap was due to her own brother’s arrival upon the keep. Aegon himself has not been able to sleep peacefully since he catches the news of his brother’s wind in Kings Landing.

“Thank you, Helaena. I shall pray that the Prince arrives at the gates safely—“

Your moment was cut short however when you both heard the huge door opening, revealing the two guards that stood in front. Your breath hitched slightly, when you took upon notice the presence whom have entered the healing chambers.

“Brother, welcome.” You quickly took back your hand as soon as the maester was done wrapping it up in a soft silk cloth, concealing your earlier omission from him. Your eyes had not dared to look into his, instead focusing them on the ground beneath your feet as the brother and sister embraced each other in front of you.

Had you not looked away, you would have seen that Aemond’s eyes have certainly never wavered from your presence, his attention was on you as soon as he arrived to the gates. Blood boiling with fury as he had heard what had happened to you. It was supposed to be a happy day, at the very least for him, as it is the day he was going to set eyes again on you. His future wife. The queen to his soon to be realm, the one whom he will fight for.

His eyes has yet to set ashore from your slightly trembling body, it only darted towards your enclasped hands in front of you. “Do you wish to retire to your chambers? you have had a long day on Vhagar’s back.” You can hear Haelena’s voice ring, you wanted so much to greet him as you are accustomed to, however you found your lips to be very hesitant. No sound came out.

“I shall retire later, sister. I wish to see the princess first as I have been made aware of her conditions.”

The smooth sound of his thick voice caresses you softly, yet it leaves a rough grip on its awakening, just like dragon scales. You tilted your head slightly, finally looking at him as you have been sought after.

“My Prince.” Your voice finally escaped your lips, breathing a shaky breath as your eyes locked with his. “Welcome back, the keep has not been the same without your presence.” You smiled gently, lips pressed into a thin line— there is so much resistance coming from you and he knows it.

Aemond then stepped forward, standing in front of you. You felt his dominating figure as he towered over yours, making you swallow the bile in your throat. Your breath, however, hitched in your throat as he tenderly brings your hands upwards, bending over a little to place a lingering kiss atop of the cloth covered skin. “How severely does it hurt, My Princess?”

Shivers come washing down on you when you felt his lips ever so gently grazes your skin, even through the cloth you can feel his warm breath, his attentive touch and words releases a bit of pressure off your shoulders. But you must not let your guard down as you are still standing in front of a man that has caused way too many mishaps for your house. The threatening presence to the house destruction, yet, all of that just gravitated yourself closer to him.

“It barely hurts… All is well, My Prince—“ You replied eyes darting between his patchless eye, and to Helaena behind him whom watching this whole encounter with a smile, “I apologize to have caused you much trouble upon your arrival day, for I swear to the Seven, I did not mean it.”

You can hear Aemond clicks his tongue in front of you, clearly unamused to you apologizing for something that causes you terrible pain. After all you are to be his wife, he would always protect you even if it meant from your own self. “By all the realms, you have no need to apologize-“ He tilted his head in what you can only take as a menacing smug gesture with a grin.

“I’ll take your hand in marriage in less than a moon time, and soon your hand would cradle my babe, I am merely seeking to even give you a new hand, if My Princess ever so wishes for one. Hm, ñuhys jorrāeliarzy?” My beloved.

That pulled a hefty gasp out of you, your hands that were still in his grasp turned so cold. Although it is not a new matter that the King and Queen has betrothed you both, it still feels like you’re reverted to how you are a shy maiden, not nearly as experienced as he was in anything. You have your mother’s wit as well as fierceness, your father’s attitude yet you always find yourself in another dichotomy altogether where you’re more demure than those of your siblings characters, Jacaerys is a wise leader, so as your other brothers, you— you are something else. Never wish for any power yet contented to defending your own.

“I suppose so, My Prince. However you needn’t to worry. I shall be fine by the time moonlight arrives.” You replied with trying hard to keep up with his intense eye contact. It was difficult for you to not drown in his lilac eyes, his silver hair, perfectly sculpted jaw, and even more domineering stance. You have wished sometimes that the Gods would just damn you in the Grand Sept for your lewd thoughts.

“Very well, little dragon. I shall see you during supper tonight, for I can not wait to have a feast.” The last words may not he spoken loudly as his lips were truly beside your ears, however, you can hear it as it was meant to be heard by you only. Your cheeks could not contain the warmth that rises to its surface, only spreading further down your neck— flustered and hot everywhere when the back of his nimble fingers grazes your cheeks twice.

“Whatever do you mean by—“

“We shall meet again, Princess.” With a tentative smirk and a chuckle, he put down your hand and left as he was never there, with his own clasped behind his back striding out of the healing chambers. Your mouth still agape as to what he meant, your heart raced as your body burned with desire. You can only wish to be spared tonight, as you wanted to keep your virtue until you wed.

—

The gold ring glimmered under the light of fire within your chambers, you keep twirling your hand to get a glimpse of the engraved Valyrian words across the ring itself. Byka zaldrīzes. The writings wrote, there is a small ruby gem on the top, adorned with small scales to imitate that of your dragon’s— Silverwing. Aemond had given this to you few moons ago, when the Queen and small council have decided to betroth you both. It is “A token for our betrothal, to remind you that I have promised in the name of the Seven and all Gods to solely devote myself to you.” He had said. Little dragon.

Your heart fluttered at the thought, even when everyone deemed him the cold even sometimes heartless prince, he had shown you slivers of his tender nature. You of course knew of what transpired during his childhood, you knew of his torment, and his tormentors— you were there to witness by your ears, always trying to comfort him afterwards out of goodwill. The memory of it all remained fresh in your memories. After the death of your younger brother, Lucerys, both side of the throne were cold as ice, sharp as Blackfyre— alas you too would fly to Dragonstone if not for the binding vows of the betrothal your mother had arranged when you were a mere child.

You see, you were supposed to marry Aegon, the usurper soon to be king, however that came short when she decided to wed Aegon with Helaena instead, and reconcile the betrothal the deal, with binding you to Aemond, instead. At the time you knew the reason why she were to wed Aegon because Alicent disapprove of your twin brother Jacaerys for his lack of Valyrian blood, or so Alicent claimed. 

You, however, was spared of the thoughts considering you were born with silver hair, striking that of your twin brother— mayhaps the reason why you were so fragile as a child, the Maester thought once that you could not have made it far to adulthood let alone reach your 15th name day. Your hand might be taken by a man you do not wish to wed out of loyalty to your mother but perhaps, unable to escape, this is the best possible outcome you could possibly get. 

Letting out a sigh, you smoothen the red and gold dress you’re wearing, the sheer fabric on the sleeve of your arms are giving you room to breathe despite the tightness of your attire. Few strands of your silver locks tied in a braid behind your head, whilst the rest flowed down your shoulders freely. The most beautiful maiden in the realm, the ladies often said. You admired yourself in the mirror, before hearing the door knock.

“Forgive me, Princess, but Her Grace, the Princes, and Princess have all waited for you in the dining hall.”

“Thank you, Lyana. I shall depart right away.”

Taking a deep breath, you shuffled your way out your chambers and into the dining hall. Two guards were stationed in front of the giant door, you nodded your head before they opened it. Taking a sight to your views, you can see the familiar faces of the Queen, your uncles and aunt. It seem that there is only five of you present, with one babe cradled inside Helaena.

“Your Grace, My Princes, and Princess.” You curtsied and bow your head before making your way inside. You locked eyes with that of Aemond’s, his lips curled into a grin as he set eyes on your beauty, before settling on the ring adorning your finger. You can also feel the heated gaze of Aegon interlocking between you and Aemond, Gods, you hope there will be no quarrel tonight between the two.

“Niece, it is a pleasure to be graced by your company again.” Came the voice of Prince Aegon with a smirk, already looking halfway intoxicated by the wine perched on his silver glass. “As it is mine, Your Highness.” you sat down on the chair, smiling at your hosts. “For I can see that my brother is assured to be… joyous.” Aegon chirped, you didn’t miss the glares Aemond threw his way.

“Has the remedy by the Maester treat your hand well, Princess?” Helaena asked you before giving his brother a chance to refute, you were thankful for her quick response. Darting to your palm, recognizing the piece of cloth it is still wrapped in. Trying not to grimace of your earlier humiliation, you just nodded your head, “Yes Princess, I cannot seldom express more of my gratitude for your kindness. It is treating very well.”

“That is a very good news indeed, now we shall feast on the supper.” Queen Alicent smiled at you, looking as uncomfortable with the brooding tension of her own sons— gesturing to the table in front of you. “How was the trip, Prince Aemond?” You tenderly tried to slice yourself a piece of roasted duck, only to hiss with the ever looming pain, sighing, you heard a click of the tongue belonging to none other than your betrothed.

“Allow me, niece.” Aemond voice cut through the silence as he offered to slice your meal for you. Warmth feels your cheeks once more as you pass your knife to him so he can cut it.

“Thank you, uncle.”

“It was pleasant enough, Vhagar was restless as she had to fly during a hailstorm, however, the journey felt too long knowing what awaits me in King’s Landing.”

The implication of his words made you look around, seeing his brother, the very man that threatens your mother’s throne snickered and with a huge grin adorning his face.

“My my, you have grown, brother, I did not know you could be so… feeble.” He swings his now empty cup so the servants can pour more wine inside. You inhaled sharply at his comment, knowing what awaits.

Shocks were thrown around the room as suddenly, the knife in the hand of your betrothed—belonging to you, are raised upon the soon to be Usurper’s King direction.

“I can and will have your tongue for that.” The air around you is thick with tension, “Aemond!” his mother gasped, a rivalry of heir successors that you have rarely seen in Dragonstone between your siblings, yet appear to be so common now in the grand pillars of the Keep.

“Enough—“

“You could do well try, if you can get past my guards, weakling.”

“Still hiding behind your guards? you are no man, merely a boy sent to be a fake king.” Aemond jabs, standing at his full height now— knife right against his brother’s neck. The clanking sound of the knight’s armor can be heard.

“and I still fuck my whores better than you do, brother.”

Next thing you heard was the loud banging of your knife on Aemond’s hands carved deep inside the table, he had stood up in a rage of fury, if looks could kill, Aegon Targaryen would be 12 feet under by now.

“I said enough!” You have in rare occasions see Queen Alicent be this mad even when her sons drove her crazy, let alone hear her voice this loud. The staring feast between Aegon and Aemond lasted even after the Queen told them to cut it off, looking at Helaena whom seem to be uncomfortable by the situation, you clear your throat and placed a soft hand gently on the back of Aemond’s shoulder.

“My Prince, perhaps I can show you, around the Keep? it has been long after all since you last set foot here.” You tried to keep yourself composed.

You carefully thread your words so neither brothers or queen for that matter, would raise the growing tension ever more. You bravely looked towards Aemond’s piercing stare at his drunken brother. A pregnant pause followed suit, before Aemond let out a scoff and turned around.

The screeching sound of his chair was loud in the silence that cut through the hall, he began walking away as you threw a curtsy before the Queen, and scurried after him outside the hall.

“Prince Aemond, please wait.” You tug the midway of your silk dress so you can follow his pace but he walked with as much rage as he did before. Slender and tall figure scurrying away. Hearing no reply coming from him, you let out a sound akin to a desperate whine.

“Dear will you please— Ah!”

You suddenly feel your back pressed against one of the walls inside the small hall not far from where the bed chambers were located. The walls felt cold to your back, your breathing was loud, so was his. Only then you registered that one of his hands were on your neck, wrapped around your delicate throat with enough pressure to block out some of the air when you inhale. The necklace given by your mother digging through your neck.

“You are quite the woman now, aren’t you, niece?” a teasing chuckle came soon after, “I am intrigued on how you have kept your innocence for all the time I have been gone, hm?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“W-what does that entail, Aemond?” your lips trembled when you speak of his name, you can feel his knees pressed to open the gap between your thighs— causing you to gasp and widen your soft lilac eyes.

“Still remains a maiden, Princess?” Aemond tilt his head, smiling throughout.

“I— of- of course, what are you so boldly implying?” You were taken aback by his implications, the stinging tears on your eyes are threatening to fall down along with the hoarseness of your voice.

“lykirī, issa jorrāeliarzys—“ scoffing in amusement, “I merely wanted to know how hard I can fuck you tonight.” You tried to wiggle away from his hold against your neck only for him to, once more, clicked his tongue at you as if you’re a disobedient child, and put his other hand on your waist to steady you against the wall— leaving no space to go. Calm, my love.

“ah ah, do not make a fuss now, sweet one. wouldn’t want to alert the whole castle on the doings of their virtuous Princess, now would we?”

You can feel his nimble fingers caresses the exposed skin of your hunched dress, the silk making way for his touches to graze yours ever so tantalizingly. “I have dreamed of this, —of you like this.” He muttered, “each time you soothed me after your cunt of brothers disrespected me.” you were still much shocked and flustered at his ministrations. Lips moving down to capture your neck, slowly moving down to the column of your now exposed throat.

“Aemond— not here…”

“Hush, dove. Now that you will soon be my wife, I shall have you whenever, wherever, and however I desire to.” His words are muttered against your skin, drawing soft breathy whines from you.

“Aemond, we should n-not… Please…” You tried to reason with him, even when your hips grinds against his pants covered knees— still nudged in the slope of your inner thighs. You felt your clothed bundle of pleasure rubbed ever so slightly against him when he further raised his knee against you. Making you whine in delight and frustration. “Gods! mmh, aem!”

“Seems to me that you wanted this as much as I do, little one.” He teased as he continues his quest, deep kisses left in his wake, “I shall claim you how I see fit, wouldn’t you say so, princess?”

You tried to answer him but only mewls and whimpers escaped out your lips as you continued to grind against his knees, meeting his now fasten pace, and the kisses on the sensitive spot on your neck just below your jaw is making you high. Gods, it feels like you’re set ablaze by thousands of dragon fire.

“Asked you a question, niece.”

“Yes! Gods yes! take me however you desire.” Your resolve has been breached once and for all, for you can not escape how intoxicating his touches are. You have been to wound up with all the realm duties, indulgence is not one for the Princess, however your desire is far too strong to resist your soon-to-be husband.

“You may not be a whore from the common streets, but you are my own, byka zaldrīzes.” Little dragon. “You will know how wrong my brother was after I fucked you.”

“and I still fuck my whores better than you do, brother.” The words exchanged by Aegon now rings on your ear.

Wanton moans escaped your lips as he continued his assault on your neck, he bent down a little to access the hem of your embroidery to push it down— you whined at the loss of his knee on your soaked cunt, “Why’d you st— oh gods!” you threw your head back against the wall at the feeling of his warm lips engulfing your now hardened buds.

“Patience.”

He muttered sharply before suckling on your teats, nipples darkened with blood rushing to them— all plump and Aemond salivated to the thought of them filling up when you, one day, will bear his child—children. “Cannot wait to fill you up, watch you swell with my babe.” He groaned, switching from one buds to the other— left you panting.

“Ah mm! can’t wait— oh! to carry your heir, my Prince…”

Whilst his mouth is preoccupied by your left nipple, his fingers are tweaking your other one, pulling and twisting— making you writhe in pleasure, you are sure that your small garment is soaked by now.

“You will never be able to escape me in our marit—“

You both were pulled from your pool of lust and pleasure when you heard the clanking noises of a knight’s armor rounding the corners of the Red Keep. Your eyes wide as you tried your best to push Aemond away only for him to raised an eyebrow and covered your mouth with his hand.

“Shh, do not make a sound, little one.”

You were about to protest when you felt his other hand trailing up your haunched hem, his feet parting your lets.

“nnh—“ you tried to speak against his hand, but he just let out a scoff and pushed you impossibly deeper to the wall.

“Rȳbās.” Obey.

Pleasure overtook you as Aemond’s fingers pushed aside your garment, fingers came in contact with the flushed slick soaked flesh of your needy cunt. “you are enjoying this.” He shake his head with so much amusement to his gleaming eyes and smirking lips—voice just above a whisper to make sure no one heard him, but if you have to guess, he wouldn’t care if someone catches you anyways.

“Here I though my little Princess is a pious woman, and here she is, with a dripping cunt begging me to fuck her.”

You heard the clanking sound moving away, noises slowly disappearing into the cold night. “I’d rather say you have been wanting me to do this, is that what you mean by showing me around?” He chuckled deeply, feeling your already flustered face, heated more.

You gasped a breath of relief when his hand unclasped your mouth, “N-no. I truly wanted to—“

“No need to lie, zaldrītsos. Your cunt tells me enough.” with that he gave your pearl of pleasure a slap, you jolted with a loud whine “Aemond, fuck!” Little dragon.

Your pleasure was short lived, however, when he wrapped his arm below your knees before pulling you up his shoulder. Hauled you up before strolling down the hall to where the royal apartment quarters sits.

“Put me down, Aemond!”

“Quiet.”

He playfully patted your arse as he make his way to what you presume to be his chamber. You did not get a good look if there were guards stationed outside, as you thought they would be— he is the prince after all, it’s not like he could care less.

Aemond slam the door shut, before he puts you down and you catch your breath.

“Aemond, what was th—mmmh!”

Your complaints were cut short when he pressed his lips against yours in a passionate manner, lips engulfing your own, as his tongue breached past to enter your hot cavern. His free hand move up to grasp your hair in a tight knot as he slowly move you back towards his bed, the back of your thighs hitting the edge.

His tongue continued to explore yours as his hands roam over your body, from your sensitive jugular to your taut breasts, belly and the conjuncture of your thighs. You let out a gasp of relief and shock as he pushed you to the bed.

Aemond wasted to time to flip you over and manhandled you so that you’re face down on the bed, your back in a perfect arch, silver locks flows beautifully— your arse is up in the air, whilst your feet dangled from the edge. Having ripped your evening attire off, you’re left bare. Cunt exposed. Needy, soaked, and desperate for his attention.

“Kostilus…” your begs are mere muffled mewls by now as he stood to admire your beauty. Gods. He has waited for this for a long time. Your betrothal might just be the cure to his raging agony. Please.

You heard a thud—“Oh Gods!” throwing your head back, as his cold fingers gathered your slick and run them along your folds, gently at first. You turn your head slightly to see him only to had your moans halted.

It’s Aemond, but he no longer wears his eye-patch. His sapphire gem shone bright under the moonlight that seeped through the night sky of King’s Landing. His soft lilac eyes gleamed too. You’re enthralled by his beauty, every marks and turns.

“My, my… you’re drenched. Desperate, aren’t we?” He scoffed at your agape mouth, feeling his 2 of his fingers entering your cunt with vigor, you closed your eyes tightly as you clench on him in instinct. “Ah ah, none of that, open them now, dove.”

Your eyes fluttered open as he commanded, “Look at me, Princess—“ you did with your eyes droopy and sinful lips parted in shallow breaths, “In less than a moon time, you shall find yourself in this situation, each night in our marital bed, ñuhys ābrazȳrys.” it delighted you, and heated the fire in your core to hear his devotion. My wife.

“Y-yes husband.”

Aemond groaned as he sped up his fingers, squelching noises now aloud bouncing off the walls, “Say it again for me.”

“ahh.. mmh! fuck— I am yours, husband, I promise by the Seven!” His fingers grazed your most sensitive spot, as his palm graze your pearl.

“After I claim you, I’d have anyone’s heads that dared to look at you as I do.” The silken sheets beneath your fingers now creased as you keep on clenching them, “Not that they will ever try, not after you begin to swell.” you arched your back with your toes curled, building release arose inside your belly, “with my seed, my babe, my heir.”

“fuck yes! yes yes! as many as you wish.. please, Aemond!”

“Come for me, little one. I’ll fill you up afterwards.” His free hand tangled itself on your silver locks to yank it back, your body shaking with your high so close, eyes teary with your lips wet, raw, and bitten. Truly a sight reserved only for the Gods.

One more brush of his palm against your pearl simultaneously with his fingers abusing your core, all of it was too much as you let out a silent scream, you came on his fingers.

“Good lord! Aemond…”

“Fuck, princess…” His fingers does not let up, however, and continues its assault inside your now gushing cunt. “You are Gods sent.” He whispered before pulling his fingers out slowly, watching you thrash on the bed, licking his fingers afterward.

“Beats the sweetest Westerosi wines.”

You have no more strength to reply as your legs felt like jelly, however the heat in your cheeks and race of your heart never cease, your eyes blink slowly when you heard the soft clad of his tunic, then followed by his cloth pants fell down the floor.

“Ae—mmh!” Toes curling at the feeling of the flushed hard tip of his cock gliding over your now oversensitive folds, “Ready, little dragon?” he teases the entrance of your weeping cunt as you whined,

“Just put it in— Oh!”

“You—fuck! you are greedy for a maiden.” He slowly thrust his tip inside you making you wince at the intrusion. “Aemond… it hurts…” you closed your eyes briefly for Aemond’s length is not to be messed with… long, width as thick, and curved on the tip. You wish you have more time in the future to admire him fully. “Shh shh, the pain will subside soon, little one, stay with me.”

To ease the pain, his fingers once again found haven on your clit, softly pressing as you jolt in overstimulation, “Mmnh.. please…” your body is writhing in both pain and pleasure, “Hells, you’re so tight.” He grunted, pushing inch by inch as your cunt accommodates his size, before pushing it in one thrust.

Your back arched deeply as your mouth agape, loud mewls and moans escapes them on a rapid rate, as you sure the guards will be able to hear by now. His free hand let go of your hand and move to place them on the slope of your hips before moving to pull almost every inch of his length, then slams it back down to the hilt.

“You f-fill me up so much, my prince.” Moans are now freely came out of your lips, as he continued his unrelenting pace, thrusts that are deep as well as it is hard, giving you no chance to catch your breath. You felt like you are flying with your dragon, its that high pleasure that are like no other. “and I shall do— fuck, again and again to ensure my seeds take.”

Though composed, you can hear his breathing shallower than usual, his thrusts are erratic yet remains a choking pace on you. Your fingers grasp the sheets so tightly, you’d have no excuse if the maids found it shred the next day. “My prince—“

“Close?” he can feel your cunt tightening, and holding a vice grip to his cock, the clench made him lose his mind. Gods, he’d stay inside of you all day if you let him, “I’d rather spend my life inside you than to deal with my cunt of a brother.”

“and… and i’d let you.” your voice are jagged, as your body thrown forward and backward following his pace, cock filling your walls— you can feel every vein and ridge, making their indents known to claim you. “What an obedient little wife you’d be.” he muttered with vigor, his hips never relenting to stop, always reaching your spot.

“Only for you, my—oh! my prince!” your peak is nearing, you can feel it so does he, fastening the fingers on your clit, “Come for me, little one. Do it.” He encouraged you, he leaned down and kissed your shoulder tenderly, “Avy jorrālean, zaldrītsos.” I love you, little dragon.

“Av— aaah oh gods!” you threw your head back, back arching and, “Aemond!” you peak, coming from him harder than the last, body slumping to the sheets as your high took over. “Please… please, fill me up. put your h—heir inside of me.” You begged with the last ounce of your strength.

Your cunt clenching on his length so tight that he is so close to reaching his own release, “Gonna put a babe in you, gonna— fuck! watch you swell over and over again.” He groaned loudly, feeling himself getting lost on you, in you.

“Avy jorrālean.” You half whine and whispered, “fuck!” Aemond releases inside you, coming with his seed pumping you full, whispering your name over and over again, against the skin of your neck. I love you.

You both panted, he held your now full belly in his palm before sliding out of you gently— his actions so soft and light, a striking contrast to his earlier ministration. “Oh.. Princess..” He cooed tenderly at you when he flipped you over and look to where you’ve separated, eyes focusing on your mixed fluids. “stop looking its—“

“Ah ah, shush, little dragon. let me take care of you.” He kissed your lips once more before placing a soft pillow beneath your head.

There and then you knew that you might not marry the kindest man, nor the man you dream of in all seven realms, however, you knew in your lonely despair, being wed to Aemond would satisfy your affections. Soon thereafter, you marry and in less than a moon time your belly began to swell, and you can only wish to raise the babe with your husband in a safe unbroken house.

[vifilms]

NSFW EIGHTEEN+

all i seem to think about lately is religious!abby who grew up in a church all her life, always been told she needs to be with a man, marry one, build a life with one — owen in particular is who she’s been told to have. the arranged marriage she was basically grown into. 

in her early twenties, yet has she had the opportunity to be with another. a promise to her father, with the cross-necklace laying on her chest, she’s dedicated to being celibate until marriage. a pact practically bound by the blood of virgin mary, she believes in the sacred bond she has through faith with her god and savior, jesus christ. funnily enough, it’s the words she utters as you corner her in the bathroom. well…not so much as cornered, not with those curious blue eyes begging for something, anything to unburden her from the life abby feels trapped in. even if she knows it goes against everything she’s been taught, she doesn’t stop you from snaking your hand up her sunshine sunday dress, bright blue as it bring out her eyes, never leaving your actions. at first, your fingers only running along her folds, teasing the era until she’s dripping for you. there isn’t a doubt in your mind she’s never felt anything like this. 

the gold cross pendant a pawn in her mouth as if the only purpose it’s ever served is to be a prop until the cadence revealed itself. the truth of religion can be found on the tips of your fingers, the delicate touches on abby’s clit. abby lets her mind wander into the altar, the communion she takes, you’ll be the sin she begs for forgiveness next. seeping into her body like the blood pumping through her veins, the lone reason for her existence was for you. no god could compare to this, the trembling of her thighs, the moans she whispered in hopes not even her savior from above could hear her. 

is god really the way, the truth, and the light if she sees heaven through your eyes? 

“this is what you wanted isn’t it? someone to save you from the chains you call religion? let me set you free.” without a second more wasted, your tongue laps at her pussy, enjoying the way she can barely hold herself up. letting you claim something now has had the privilege of venturing. she would be shunned, ostracized from society if anyone knew the truth. 

truthfully, it’s an easy task. the angelic blonde so deprived of another’s touch she slithers in the hands of a snake, tasting the forbidden fruit for the first time. it’s quick, overwhelming when she comes undone, spilling her sweet nectar into your lips, hips moving uncontrollably as she fucks your face. knuckles bearing the color of winter snow, clutching onto her dress that rests at her toned abdomen as you swallow every last drop. 

stepping away from her, you grab a washcloth, running it under warm water, abby unable to move. impending doom washes over her guilty, and now sinful, heart. this never should have happened, the voice in her head repeats, the path of self righteousness was supposed to be hers but now she finds herself acquainted with the sinner and the snake, straying from the life of a discipline and discipleship. 

“hold your pretty dress for me. can’t get it wet, can we?” abby lifts her dress, clutching it as the warm wash rag gently cleans her, she feels your fingers dip inside her slightly, thorough as you clean up her cum. 

“i should get back out there.” abby shyly whispers. “my dad will be looking for me…and owen.” 

“right.” you toss the used rag on the countertop, “just one more thing.” 

with a passion laced in your tongue, you steal her breath away, lips locking either her pinky, pouting ones. abby can only assume the salty but even sweeter taste is her. whimpering as you squeeze her small tits through the pale blue dress, abby can’t help but grind against your legs between her legs, aching for something more. this time, you deny her of what she so desperately needs. 

“come and find me when you’re ready for a real fuck, princess.”

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ hearts in the sand

content // tooth-rotting marriage fluff. talks of children hinted at. inspired by this TikTok. ((the Olympian who lost his ring in the river in France)) and happy softie sunday! <3

wc // 0.8k

『 k.bakugo masterlist | caramel & champagne series 』

It’s a quiet night at home, a kitten in your lap with a cup of tea and your favorite reality TV show to wind down the evening. Your phone begins buzzing on the couch repeatedly with rapid fire notifications, startling your cat from his slumber and interrupting your show. Annoyed, you finally pick it up to silence the notifications until you see the multiple headlines that catch your attention.

“Dynamight Saves Dozens But Loses Precious Item”

“Dynamight Loses Treasure on the Beach during Villain Fight”

“…the hell?” You mutter aloud as the sound of heavy footsteps approach the front door before it swings open. Bakugo’s got his mask tucked up into his hair, beads of sweat running down his temples and dripping from his jaw. He’s still fully dressed in his hero attire, huffing frantically while accidentally slamming the door behind him.

“Is…everything okay?” You ask, confused and somewhat frightened. Phoenix jumps from your lap and moves to the opposite side of the couch.

“I…I fucked up,” Bakugo pants, hand on the wall to steady himself. “M’sorry, peach. It was an accident.”

“What was?” At this point, you assume he killed someone and is about to ask you to help him bury the body. “Spit it out, Katsuki. You’re scaring me.”

He sighs before wiping away the sweat from his nose, head hung low with a frown on his face. “I lost my wedding ring.”

Oh...That’s it?

“It’s alright, we can get another one.”

Bakugo’s taken aback by your nonchalant answer. He’s not one to lose things, especially extremely important ones that he’d crawl through hell to keep. He gives you the typical ‘hah?’ reaction, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"Sweets...I don't want another one, I want that one."

You shake your head while tossing your phone back onto the couch. “It’s not like you meant to lose it, you’re a hero. Shit happens, it’s out of your control.”

"I should'a been more careful. Dunno how the chain broke and fell out of my costume."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say as you get up from the couch. "It's not like you tossed it in the ocean on purpose."

Bakugo scoffs. "How stupid could I be?! Already can't wear it on duty cause of my quirk, and nothin' will replace your handwriting etched inside it." He starts rambling, getting too worked up to notice you getting closer. "What kind of husband can't even keep track of his wedding ring? A shitty one, that's who. God, if I didn't⎯"

You cut him off with a soft kiss, arms gently wrapped around his waist. He melts into you, hands instinctually settling at the small of your back to keep you close. All the anxiety evaporates at your touch as his shoulders deflate. When you part, he lays his forehead against yours, eyes softening when they meet your own.

"Katsuki, you are the furthest thing from a bad husband," you scold, playfully pinching his side while maintaining eye contact. "Never, ever, say that again. You're the epitome of my perfect husband and that's all that matters."

It never ceases to amaze Bakugo just how quickly you defuse his insecurities and replace them with sweet nothings that make his heart flutter.

"I've got an idea that you might hate," you say, bringing a hand to his cheek. "Why don't I toss mine in with yours? That way they're together. Then, we go ahead and renew our vows like we wanted to and buy new rings together."

Speechless.

Bakugo is actually speechless.

He goes to say something, but each time, comes up short on how to properly express how much it means to him that you'd do something so drastic to make him happy. Instead, he tugs you into a tight embrace, squeezing you tighter than usual.

"Peaches, ya don't have to do that," he whispers over your shoulder, hushed and emotional. "Don't want you to risk losing somethin' so special just cause I did."

"I know it's sentimental, but it's only a material thing. My love isn't tied to one piece of jewelry, Katsuki, it's tied to your heart. You can't replace that, no matter how many rings we rotate through."

How'd he get so lucky? Bakugo truly doesn't know what good karmic deeds he's done to deserve someone as angelic as you, but he never takes it for granted.

"Got another idea," he says, pulling back to look you in the eyes. "Keep that one here, save it for a rainy day for the future. We renew our vows, get new rings together, and I get my ring finger tattooed. Can't lose that."

"Only if I can, too." You laugh, giving him an exaggerated kiss in response. "Save it for the future, huh?"

Bakugo blushes, grunting shyly as he rolls his eyes. "Y-yeah, you know...could give it to our kid or somethin' in the future for themselves or to give away."

"Aww, love when you get all mushy about the future," you tease, pulling his face down to leave a peck to his cheek.

"Just love you, peach. S'all it comes down to."

He's right, that's all it comes down to at the end of the day; love.

((general idea for the ring tattoos <3))

⇢ subscribers; @sunflowers-4 @sweetloveandaffection @sugurei @jenn-majima @bkgpackets @notnightmarefuel

[itneverendshere]

Bartender reader :) reader and Rafe get in a fight and it’s a big one (while they are living together) and reader needs some space and decides to sleep on the couch/guest bedroom but Rafe completely forgets about the fight once he realizes what she’s doing and puts his foot down “you can be mad but you’re still sleeping in this bed” kinda deal?

i feel like their fights never last bc they can't be away from each other that long and bc they're just too disgustingly in love🙂‍↔️ thank you for the request!🤎

i would never do you wrong- r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: a little angst at first, but happy ending obviously.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands gripping your phone a little too tight. The conversation you had been having for the past hour felt like running headfirst into a brick wall—no, arguing with a brick wall.

“I don’t see why this is such a big deal,” Rafe groaned, like a toddler, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’ve been working nonstop. You deserve a break.”

“A break?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Baby, I just got promoted. I can’t take time off like that.”

“You’re acting like this job will disappear if you take a week off. I’ve already planned the trip, I’ve already talked to Ward. You don’t even have to worry about money—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut him off, standing now, your body vibrating with frustration. “You don’t get it! This promotion means everything to me. I worked my ass off for it. And now you’re telling me to throw that away for a vacation?

“I’m not telling you to throw anything away, baby. God, you make it sound like I’m asking you to quit.” Rafe crossed his arms, his brow furrowed, and looked at you like you were the unreasonable one, like you'd just insulted him. “It’s just one week. We can afford to relax.”

“Yeah and what about the wedding? If we’re gonna pay for it, we gotta save up.”

He let out an incredulous laugh, his head shaking like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You do remember I’m rich, right?”

You blinked, stunned. “Seriously? That’s your solution? Just throw money at it?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “That’s not what I meant. I can pay for the wedding,” he interrupted, stopping in his tracks. “You’re forgetting I have more than enough money to take care of both of us.”

You closed your eyes for a second, breathing deeply. “I don’t want you to pay for it all.” You were pacing now, “It sounds like you think we can just forget about budgeting and responsibilities because you’ve got a trust fund.”

Rafe threw his hands up, exasperated. “I’m just saying we can afford to take some time for ourselves. You don’t need to stress over every little thing.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning sharply to face him. “I’m not ‘stressing over every little thing,’ Rafe. I’m being realistic. We have a wedding to plan. We’ve got bills. I’ve got my career to think about. And no, I don’t want your dad’s money involved in any of that.”

“We have an entire year to save up,” He stared at you, a steely glint in his eyes. “So what? You’re just gonna run yourself into the ground? Burn out completely?” 

Your jaw clenched as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m doing what I need to do. I’ve always done that.”

“And I’ve always been here to help you. But it’s like you don’t even want it.”

“That’s not what this is about,” you argued, stepping closer to him now. “I don’t want to be dependent on that money. I don’t want us to start our marriage with me feeling like I’m just along for the ride.”

Rafe’s face hardened, his lips pressing into a thin, flat line. “So what? You think I’m trying to make you feel small? Like you can’t handle your shit?”

“No. I just want to build something with you. With you, Rafe, not because of Ward’s money.”

He looked away as he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, the muscle moving under his skin as he swallowed whatever hot-headed thing you knew he felt like saying. Then, with a frustrated exhale, he said, “It’s not like I wanted to rely on him either. But I’m trying to make things easier for us.”

“And I appreciate that, I do.” You sighed, taking a breath. “But this promotion... it’s my chance to prove myself. I want to know that I earned everything we have. Not that it came from someone else’s checkbook.”

Rafe’s eyes moved to yours, and you could see the tension still there. He slowly let out a long breath. The air hissed softly between his teeth as his chest fell, shoulders sagging “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“I learned from the best,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

He let out a bitter chuckle, it didn’t hold any joy. “I’m not trying to control everything. I just want to make sure we have time for us before everything else gets in the way.”

You nodded, “I know. But you can’t just expect me to drop everything and go on vacation because you’ve already decided it.”

“I thought you’d want to spend time with me,” he argued, “I’m trying to make time for us, and you’re treating it like it’s a problem.”

You sighed for what it felt like the millionth time that night, rubbing your temples. “It’s not that, baby. I want to be with you. You know that. But I can’t ignore everything else that’s going on.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to find the right thing to say. Finally, he muttered, “Fine. If you don’t want to take the time off, then don’t.”

You blinked at him, taken aback. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re making it seem like I’m asking for something ridiculous.”

You scoffed, frustration taking over again.

“Because to me, it is ridiculous! You don’t get it. You don’t have to think about whether you can afford to take time off, but I do. You’ve never had to think about that stuff.”

His face tightened, jaw clenching as he stared at you like he was trying to stay calm. “And that’s why I’m telling you, you don’t have to worry about it. I’ve got us covered. You’re acting like I’m trying to sabotage your career.”

“You’re not listening to me! This promotion isn’t just a paycheck, it’s everything I’ve worked for. I’ve spent years proving I’m good enough, and now you’re asking me to step back like it’s no big deal.”

Rafe crossed his arms, his posture stiff, defensive. “I’m asking for one week. One. Fucking. Week. You act like the world’s gonna end if you take some time for yourself.”

“Because for me, it doesn’t stop! You don’t understand what it’s like—”

He cut you off again, you hated when he did it. “Don’t. Don’t stand there and tell me I don’t understand. You think I don’t get what it’s like to have shit on the line? I’ve been under pressure my whole life.”

You flinched at his words, your eyes narrowing. “This is different. I’ve always had to make sure I could take care of myself.”

His laugh was bitter, almost sarcastic. “Is that what you think this is? You’re my fiancé.”

You frowned, feeling the hurt in his words, but you couldn’t let it go. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m in your shadow, like I’m always gonna be ‘Rafe’s wife’ instead of my own person.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Because every time we talk about this, you make it sound like money is the solution to everything. Like we can just throw cash at our problems and they’ll disappear.”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you, his expression darkening. “Because it fucking helps, okay?”

You pinched your eyes closed, “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t lose myself in all of this.”

He let out a harsh breath, his shoulders tense. “Lose yourself? You think I’m trying to take that from you?”

“No,” you whispered, wiping at your eyes. “But it feels like you don’t get why this is so important to me.”

“Are you serious right now?” he cut you off. “You know what, do whatever you want. I’ll just cancel the trip.”

“Rafe—”

“Forget it,” he said, already turning away, heading for the door. “Goodnight.”

He didn't even slam the door.

You sat down on the bed, your head in your hands, trying to calm down. You glance at your phone, thinking about texting him, apologizing maybe. But you weren’t ready for that yet. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed to get out of your own head, even just for a little while. You couldn’t stand being in the same room after that argument.

Without thinking much more about it, you grabbed your pillow and the spare blanket from the closet, making your way toward the living bedroom. The couch in there wasn’t as comfortable or as big, but it would give you the distance you needed for the time being. You were pulling back the covers when you heard your bedroom door creak open. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. 

He couldn't stay away longer than five minutes.

“Really?” His voice was low, almost disbelieving. “You’re gonna sleep in here?”

You stayed facing the bed, not turning to look at him. “I can’t do this right now.”

There was a pause, and then you heard him step closer. “No. That’s not how we’re doing this.”

You frowned, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you can be pissed at me. You can need space, fine. But you’re not sleeping in here.” His voice was firm, and when you finally turned to look at him, his blue eyes were locked on yours, unwavering.

“Rafe—”

“I’m serious, baby." He moved closer, gently pulling the blanket from your hands. “You’re mad. I get it. But you’re still sleeping in our bed.”

You shook your head, trying to push the blanket back toward him. “I just—”

“No.” His voice softened, but he was still insistent. “I’m not letting you run away from me. We’ll deal with it. But we’re not doing this. You’re not sleeping alone.”

You looked at him and saw the same tiredness, the same frustration, in his face. He held your gaze for a moment longer before reaching out, and taking your hand in his.

“Come on. You belong in our bed.”

There was no fight left in you as you let him pull you back down the hall, back into the warmth of your shared space. As you settled beside him, Rafe reached over, his hand finding yours under the blankets, he traced small, absent patterns on the back of your hand, like you weren’t fighting just ten minutes ago.

He sighed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I already know you’re capable of handling anything.”

“It’s not about proving it to you,” you admitted, “It’s about proving it to myself. I need to know that no matter what happens—good or bad—I’ve earned it. That I deserve it.”

Rafe was quiet for a couple seconds, his eyes stuck on the ceiling. Then, his grip on your hand tightened slightly,  “I hate this,” he muttered finally.

You turned your head to look at him, “Hate what?”

“This.” He gestured between the two of you with his free hand. “Fighting like this. Making you feel like I’m pulling you in two different directions. Like you have to choose.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You’re not making me choose. I just, I want to build something for myself.”

He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head.

“You think I don’t get that? You think I’m just some spoiled asshole who’s never had to work for anything?” He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you more directly. “But I do get it. That’s why I’m trying so hard to be what you need me to be.”

Your heart twisted at the look on his face. He reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face.

“Every time I look at you,” he murmured, his gaze softening, “I see everything you’ve done to get here. Everything you’ve pushed through. And it kills me, because I feel like I’ve just been dead weight. You spent months holding me together when I was falling apart. I could barely get out of bed some days baby, and you were there, making sure I was eating, making sure I was taking my meds, making sure I didn’t—I know how much you gave up for me.”

“Baby, stop,” you mumbled, the hurt in your chest almost unbearable. It hadn't been easy, but you didn't regret a single thing, wouldn't change anything. You'd do it all over again if you had to.

“No.” His voice was firm, “I hate that I put you through that. That I made you carry all that weight when you should’ve been focusing on yourself, your career. Hell, I wasn’t even there for you when you got promoted, because I was too busy trying to keep my shit together. And now I want to make up for that.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek, feeling the way his jaw unclenched under your touch. “You don’t have to make up for anything. You were going through something, and I wanted to be there for you.”

“I know you did,” he said softly, “But that’s why I’m doing this. I’m trying to be the guy you deserve—the guy who makes things easier for you, who makes you feel like you can breathe again.” He shook his head, teasing just a little, “But every time I try, it feels like I’m just reminding you of all the ways I’ve let you down.”

You blinked back the sudden tears. “You haven’t let me down. I need to find a balance. Between us and—” You gestured vaguely around you, trying to explain everything you were feeling. “And everything else.”

“I get that,” he murmured, leaning in closer until his forehead rested against yours. “But I also need you to let me in. Let me help you. Not because I want to throw money at it, but because I love you, and I want to see you happy. Not burnt out and exhausted.”

His voice broke a little on the last word, and you felt your initial stubbornness crumbling. “I know,” You squeezed your eyes shut, “I know. I just don’t want to lose everything I’ve been working for. I don’t want to get so wrapped up in us that I forget who I am outside of this.”

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his fingers brushing along your jaw.

“You’re not going to lose yourself, okay? Not with me. You’re always going to be you. Even when you’re stressed and stubborn and driving me up the wall.” His lips quirked in a small, sad smile. “I’ll still be here. I just want to have a little time with you before life pulls us in a million directions again.”

You leaned into him, pressing your face against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his chin resting on top of your head. It wasn’t that you didn’t want his help. You just needed to do this one thing for youself. You moved closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered earnestly, “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I don’t want to spend time with you. I do. It’s just hard to balance everything.”

You didn’t want to fight anymore. You wanted to figure it out. You wanted to compromise, because that's what you two always did.

“I’ll take the time off,” You felt him move beside you, his eyes on you now, curious but cautious. “But… I need a little time. Can we plan the trip for a couple of months from now? Once things settle down with work?”

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his eyes searching your face. “You’d do that?”

You nodded, lifting your head. “I know I’ve been all over the place about this, but I get that we need time together. I just can’t drop everything right now. But in two months, I’ll be ready. We can go wherever you want.”

A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He shifted onto his side, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” you said, smiling back at him. “We’ll go. No work emails, no distractions. Just us.”

He let out a breath he’d been holding, his fingers tracing along your jaw. “Two months, huh?”

You looked up at him, rolling your eyes lightly. “Yes, two months. And I’m going to hold that ‘no work emails’ rule, for you too.”

He chuckled, his lips curving into a genuine smile this time. “I figured.”

You swat at his chest lightly. “I’m serious. I want this trip to be for us. I need it to be something that we’re both looking forward to—not just you dragging me away because you think I’m overworking.”

“I know. I promise when we do go, it’ll be perfect. Wherever you want. No distractions.”

“Good,” you whispered, resting your head back on his shoulder. You listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. This was the peace after the storm, the moment when everything felt like it was falling into place again.

Rafe’s hand gently traced patterns on your arm, and he pressed a soft kiss to your head, “I’m proud of you. For everything. The promotion, the way you’ve been handling all of this. I’m proud to call you mine.”

Your heart squeezed at his words, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Thank you, baby,” you murmured. “That means more to me than you know.”

He smiled, “Just don’t ever think you have to choose between me and your dreams, okay? I want you to have it all. I want us to have it all.”

You nodded, the last of your resistance melting away. “I know. And I want us to have it all, too. Together.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, “Good,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “’Cause I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

[nyrasvoid]

In the Heat of Battle ⚔︎

♡︎ Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader

𖤓 Summary: Lady Caswell defies her family to become a healer in the war of the Stepstones. Amid the violence, she forms a bond with Ser Gwayne Hightower.

⚝ Warnings: violence, sexual assault attempt (nothing happens), includes themes of war and injury and explicit sexual content

♜ Things you should know: reader is from a minor house of the Reach (House Caswell), when the news of war are spread the ladies are given the choice to serve as healers. Reader prefers to serve as a healer in the battle camps than becoming a septa or marrying.

⚝ A/N: this is a bit like the relationship between Robb stark and his wife in GOT, just a reminder that my requests are open 😊

- Word count: 6k words (ik I went a bit crazy this time)

The hall of your family’s keep is quieter than usual, though tension hangs in the air.

You sit at the long table, your hands resting om your lap, trying to keep calm as your mother and father exchange worried glances from across the room. The fireplace is the only sound that fills the room. Your sisters sit nearby, their faces show their concern, while your two brothers stand at the back of the room.

You know why you’re all gathered here. It’s a conversation that’s been pending for weeks, ever since news of the war of the Stepstones reached your lands. You and the rest of the ladies were given a choice, but it’s clear that your family doesn’t see it as one.

Your father clears his throat, breaking the silence. "My daughter, you are the youngest of House Caswell. You must understand the choices before you. There are...expectations. It is time to think of your future."

Your mother nods. "We’ve spoken of this before. You could marry, my dearest. There are lords who would gladly take a girl like you. Or, if marriage isn’t your path, the septas will gladly take you in."

You’ve heard this all before. Marriage or the Faith. Those are the only options anyone sees for you. But they don’t understand. You don’t want to spend your life praying in a sept or playing the dutiful wife. You want something else.

“I don’t want to be a septa,” you say firmly. “And I have no interest in marriage, not right now. The war… they need healers. I can help.”

Your father’s brows furrow. He sits back in his chair, eyeing you with a mix of disbelief and frustration. "The battlefield is no place for a woman, especially not a daughter of mine."

“I agree,” your sister, Melissa, interrupts from across the table. She’s always been the dutiful one, her nose always buried in the books of history. “The gods have plans for us. You could do good in the Faith, sister. Don’t let the horrors of war tempt you from a safer path.”

“Safe?” You scoff. “The Faith doesn’t call to me, Melissa. I’m not like you. I do not hear the call of the Seven like you do.” You look at your sister. “I want to do something that matters, to help people. People who are suffering because of this war.”

“Being a septa helps people,” she tries to convince you, “you’d bring the Light of the Seven to those in need.”

“But that is not what I wish for,” you insist, “I want to help with my hands. Healing those who are wounded. Saving lives.”

Your older brother, Ser Arthur, steps forward, his voice firm. “Do you know what you’re asking for, sister? You’ve never seen war. It’s not some grand adventure. It’s blood and death, and it will haunt you long after the fighting is over.” He pauses briefly. “If you think healing will spare you from that, you’re wrong.”

Your younger brother, Theo, who’s barely old enough to hold a sword, speaks up, his voice shaky. “He’s right. I’ve heard the stories from the soldiers who’ve returned. The screams, the smells. The battlefield is no place for a lady.”

You turn to them. “I am not asking for a knight’s life. I know what war is. I’m not foolish.” You glance between your siblings and your parents. “But I will not stand by while men die if I can do something about it, let me help. It is my choice.”

Your father slams his hand down on the table, startling everyone. “And what of your duties to this house? You think you can just abandon them, throw yourself into the mud and blood of battle?”

Your mother’s eyes fill up with unshed tears, and she whispers, “You’re our daughter, sweetling. We just want you safe.”

You swallow hard, trying to fight back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. “I know you want what’s best for me. But I need to do this. Not because I want to run away from my duties, but because I want to make a difference. If I can save even one life out there, then that’s worth it to me.”

Melissa stands up, coming closer to you and resting her hand on your shoulder. “Please, sister. You’re smarter than this. You don’t have to go looking for death. The gods have other plans for you, if you’ll just listen.”

You turn to her, “I love you, Melissa. But I can’t live my life praying every single day, locked up in a sept.”

Everyone turns quiet, you could only hear your mother’s sobs and the fireplace.

Finally, it is your father who breaks the silence, his voice rough. “If this is truly what you want…” He shakes his head, sighing. “Then go. Serve as a healer. But do not say I didn’t warn you.”

You meet his gaze, nodding. “Thank you.”

Melissa looks like she wants to keep trying to convince you, but she just sighs in defeat. “May the gods protect you, sister.”

Arthur steps forward, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re doing”

“So do I,” you murmur, though you know this is the path you must follow, you still have some doubts in your mind.

As you rise from your seat and begin to make your way out of the hall, you feel the guilt of not listening to them, but you’ve made your choice. The battlefield may not be a place for most women, but you are not most women.

You will go, and you will help. No matter what anyone else says.

The morning you leave for the war, the sky is heavy with clouds, as if the gods were trying to tell you it was the wrong path. Your family stands around you, silent in disappointment.

Your mother is the first to approach you. She takes your hand, into hers. Her eyes are still red from the tears she shed last night. "Please, my dearest, be careful," she whispers, her voice cracking. "I know you think this is the right choice, but I can’t bear to lose you. You’re still my little girl."

You feel a bit of guilt but gently squeezed her hand in return. "I’ll be careful, mother. I promise. I’ll write whenever I can."

Your father stands a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest. He hasn’t spoken to you since you made your choice.

"My daughter," he says, "If you find that this is too much, if you wish to come home, there will always be a place for you here."

You nod. "Thank you, Father. But I won’t be coming home until I’ve fulfilled my duty."

Your sister Melissa approaches next, she’s spent the entire night in prayer. "I will pray for you every day," she says softly. "May the gods guide you and keep you safe."

You smile at her, grateful for her words even if you no longer share her faith in the Seven. "Thank you, sister. But I will be relying on my own hands to keep me safe."

Arthur steps forward as he pulls you into a firm embrace. He doesn’t speak, but the hug says enough. "You’re braver than I thought," he says. "I just hope you know what you’re getting into."

"I do," you reply, meeting his gaze. "and I will come back, brother. Do not worry."

Your younger brother Theo, looks up at you with sadness in his eyes. "If I were old enough," he murmurs, "I would be going with you."

You ruffle his hair, "Well, I am glad you’re not. Stay here, and keep the family safe for me, all right?"

His smile turns into a pout, but he nods, "Fine," he mumbles. "But you better come back in one piece so we can play like we do."

You give him a small smile, although you want to do this, you do not like the idea of leaving your family behind. “I will come back in one piece, I promise.”

With one last glance at your family, you get on the back the carriage. You know this journey will change you. There’s no denying that. But you also know you’ve made the right choice.

As you ride away, the gates of your family’s keep slowly close behind you, and the view of your home begins to fade.

Your journey to the Stepstones begins, it is a long trip, longer than you expected, and after just a few hours on the ship, you’ve already had enough of the sea.

It’s uncomfortable, and filled with rough men, mercenaries, and knights—making their way to the battle in the Stepstones. Among them, you are one of the very few women, and the looks you get remind you of it.

But you are not alone. On the second day of the journey, you meet Lysa, a fellow healer, although her skills lean more towards battlefield survival and self-defense. She is very brave and before long, the two of you find yourselves sticking together, watching each other’s backs.

One evening, you and Lysa sit on the deck, talking about your families and why you both chose to leave them behind for war.

“So,” Lysa says, “you chose to be a healer instead of a septa. I have to say, I would have done the same, given the choice.”

You smile at her. “I couldn’t bear the idea of spending my life in a sept. Too quiet, too… restricting.”

Lysa laughs. “I get it. I couldn’t stand being tied down either. I’d rather be out here, risking my life, than sitting at home waiting for a husband.”

As you share stories, the bond between you strengthens. You find that you trust her in a way you’ve trusted few people in your life. It’s comforting to have a friend, especially on a ship full of strange and dangerous men.

But not everyone aboard the ship is as decent as Lysa.

That same night, as you make your way to your shared quarters, a man blocks your way. He’s an older knight, his face scarred, his breath stinking of ale.

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” he slurs, leaning in too close.

You step back in disgust. “I am a healer, here to tend to the wounded. Nothing more.”

The man chuckles, his eyes roaming over your body. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be doing plenty more. A pretty girl like you… I’m sure the men will find other uses for you.”

You feel sick to your stomach at his words. “I’d rather be eaten by sharks than entertain men like you.”

The man’s smile fades, “You ought to watch your tongue, girl. Do not forget your place.”

“Trust me,” you say loud enough for the surrounding men to hear, “I know my place. It is not in your bed, and certainly not besides a man who reeks like a wet dog.”

You can hear the laughter from the other men around, and the knight’s face flushes with embarrassment. You ignore his presence and go inside your shared quarters.

Lysa claps you on the shoulder when you reach her, smiling widely. “That was brilliant,” she says. “You put that dog in his place.”

You shrug, “I just hope he takes the hint.”

Unfortunately, the old knight doesn’t. Later that night, while you’re asleep, you hear footsteps in the darkness. Before you can react, a rough hand covers your mouth. Your heart pounds in your chest as you struggle to break free, kicking around as hard as you could.

But before the man can do anything more, he’s pulled away from you, and you hear a familiar voice. “Get your filthy hands off her, or I will slice your throat myself.”

The man growls, but Lysa doesn’t back down, she presses the knife to his neck and slightly cuts it.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Lysa whispers, standing over him. “Try something like that again, and I’ll throw you overboard.”

The knight, humiliated and angry, mutters something under his breath before retreating back into the shadows.

“Are you all right?” she asks, turning to you.

You nod shakily, your heart still racing. “Thanks to you.”

She sits down beside you, her expression softening. “Us women have to stick together out here. There aren’t many people you can trust on a ship like this.”

You take her hand, squeezing it. “I won’t forget it.”

The rest of the journey passes with fewer incidents, though the tension never quite leaves. You and Lysa keep a careful eye on each other, making sure that no one else tries anything again. When the ship finally reaches the Stepstones, you’re relieved to set foot on solid ground.

When you arrive at the healers’ tent, you’re greeted not by the woman you were expecting but by an old maester. He introduces himself as Maester Aegred, and though he is kind, you could see the surprise in his eyes the moment he saw you.

“You’re the healer?” he asks, raising his brow slightly.

“I am,” you reply, straightening your back, “Lady Caswell, sent by my family to serve here.”

Maester Aegred nods slowly, though he seems uncertain. “You’re one of the only women in this camp, I’m afraid. It will not be easy for you.”

“I’m not here because I thought it would be easy,” you say firmly. “I’m here because I want to help.”

The maester gives you a small approving nod. “Very well. Welcome to the Stepstones, Lady Caswell.”

He gives hands you a basket filled with herbs and bandages. “You’ll be starting with the fevered men,” he says, “Boil these herbs for teas, and keep their wounds clean. Watch for signs of infection.”

You get to work without hesitation, the first man you attend looks barely conscious, his face wet with sweat. You dip a cloth into cool water, before placing it gently on his forehead.

“There now,” you whisper, “Rest easy. I’m here to help.”

You prepare the herbal tea as the maester instructed, bringing the it to his lips. He barely sips it, but you’re persistent, bringing him to drink more. His skin is hot to the touch, and you pray the fever will break soon.

As you continue tending to the soldiers, the hours pass by. There’s little time for anything else besides cleaning wounds, applying creams, and offering them tea.

Days pass like this—hard work from dawn until dusk. You grow more accustomed to the sight of blood. Your hands become more skilled.

One afternoon, after days of dealing with nothing but fever and infection, you’re called to tend to a knight who’s been brought in from the front lines. His armor is dented, and his face is pale beneath a layer of blood. His men carry him into the maester’s tent.

“Bring water!” the maestro yells at one of the younger healers before turning to you. “Caswell, I need you over here!”

You rush to his side and assess the knight’s condition. His leg is badly wounded, a deep cut through the muscle. Blood keeps coming through the wrapped bandage.

“I’ll need to clean this and stitch it closed,” you say. The sight of such a severe injury would have once made your stomach turn, but now, you see only the work that needs to be done.

The knight’s eyes flutter open as you begin to work, and he lets out a low groan of pain.

“You’re… the healer?” he rasps, his voice rough from pain and exhaustion.

“Yes,” you reply, your voice calm as you clean the wound. “Stay still, and I’ll cure this soon.”

He’s in pain but does his best to remain still. “Not what I expected,” he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his tone despite the situation.

“And what were you expecting?” you ask, keeping your focus on his leg.

“An ugly old maester with cold hands,” he says gritting his teeth. “Not… someone like you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” you say in amusement.

He lets out a weak laugh before groaning in pain. “I’m not disappointed… just surprised.”

“You’re lucky to still be alive,” you say as you finish cleaning the wound. “The cut was deep. If you hadn’t been brought in when you were…”

The knight nods weakly. “Thank you… for saving my life.”

“I haven’t saved it yet,” you reply, threading your needle. “This will hurt, but it needs to be done.”

He grits his teeth and nods again, preparing himself for the pain. You work as quickly as you can, stitching the wound closed. Despite his discomfort, the knight bears, only grunting occasionally.

Once you finish, you sit back, wiping the sweat off your face. “There you go. It should heal well if you keep off it and give it time.”

The knight exhales, “Thank you… Lady—?”

“Caswell,” you say simply, not offering your full name. There’s no need for it here.

His brow lifts as if trying to place your family name, and you see the moment he realizes that your house is one of little significance. “Ah,” he says simply, “a Reach girl, then. Far from home.”

“I go where I’m needed,” you reply “as do most of us who serve.” You pause before you realize that you still don’t know his name. “And you are?”

“Ser Gwayne Hightower,” he says, giving you a small smile. “Of Oldtown.”

You pause at the name. You’ve heard of him before, of course—who hasn’t? The eldest son of Otto Hightower, the hand of the King.

You nod, standing up to gather your supplies. “Rest, Ser Gwayne. You’ll need your strength.”

As you turn to leave, he calls after you. “Lady Caswell?”

You pause, turning around. “Yes?”

“Will I… see you again?”

You can’t help but slightly smile at the question. “Only if you’re foolish enough to get yourself injured again.”

With that, you leave the tent, though his words linger in your mind.

The days pass on, and Ser Gwayne Hightower stays in the maester’s tent, recovering from his wounds. Despite the chaos and demands of the camp, you find yourself drawn to him more often than you’d expected. Every time you pass his bed to check on other patients, his eyes follow you. Sometimes, he even offers a tired smile.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Just another soldier in need of care. But there’s something about him that keeps him in your mind.

One morning, as you tend to another patient, you hear his familiar voice call out from across the tent. "Lady Caswell!"

You sigh, trying to focus on the soldier’s arm, but Ser Gwayne does not give up.

“Lady Caswell,” he says again, this time louder, "I am dying of boredom over here. Come and put me out of my misery."

You finish your task, shaking your head, but you can’t help but smile. This has become routine, Ser Gwayne calling for you whenever you pass by, always with some comment or complaint. You try not to encourage him, but the man is relentless.

As you approach his bed, you find him sitting up on the bed, looking far better than he did when he first arrived. The color has returned to his face, and his leg, still bandaged, seems to be healing well.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” you ask, crossing your arms as you look down at him.

He shrugs. “Resting is boring. I’ve been staring at the ceiling for days now. I think I’m going mad.”

“And what would you have me do about it?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Talk to me,” he replies, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re the only one in this place with anything interesting to say.”

You roll your eyes, but the truth is, you like speaking with him. “And what exactly do you think is so interesting about me?”

He leans back against his pillow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “For one, you’re the only woman I’ve met who’d rather patch up wounds than sit in some lord’s castle or pray to the gods.”

You tilt your head slightly, furrowing your eyebrows. “Is that your way of saying I’m strange?”

His smile widens. “Strange? No. Unusual, perhaps. A good kind of unusual.”

You suppress a laugh. Despite his status, he doesn’t seem to carry the same arrogance as some of the other knights you’ve tended. Still, you remind yourself why you’re here. You’re a healer, not some maiden looking for a knight’s attention.

“Well,” you say, “I’m here to heal wounds, not provide entertainment. If you’re well enough to chat, perhaps you should be focusing on getting better so you can leave the tent.”

“Leave?” Gwayne looks offended. “And abandon the finest healer in all the Seven Kingdoms? Never.”

You smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Ser Gwayne.”

He chuckles but falls silent as you reach for the bandages around his leg. Carefully, you peel the cloth to examine the stitches. The wound looks clean—no signs of infection, and the stitches are holding well.

“You’ve been keeping your leg high, I hope?” you ask, meeting his gaze.

Gwayne nods, “Mostly.”

“Mostly?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, “A man can’t lie around forever. I’ve been getting up—only for a short walk around the tent, of course.”

You sigh, “You’ll undo all my hard work if you push yourself too soon.”

“Aye, but how else am I to win your favor?” he teases.

You shake your head, standing up. “You’d better focus on getting well before you concern yourself with winning anything.”

As you turn to leave, he calls after you again, this time more serious. “My lady.”

You pause but don’t turn around. “Yes?”

His voice is softer this time. “Thank you. Truly.”

You nod once before continuing on your way, trying to push the thought of him from your mind. You don’t have time for distractions, not with so many lives depending on you.

Over the next few days, Ser Gwayne’s persistence doesn’t fade. Every time you pass his bed, he finds some excuse to speak with you, to ask you how your day is. You try to remain professional, to keep your distance, but it becomes harder and harder to ignore the way his presence makes your heart skip a beat, even if only for a moment.

One evening, you find yourself alone for the first time in what feels like weeks. You’re sitting outside the maester’s tent, the cool breeze making you feel relieved at least for a moment. For a second, you allow yourself to close your eyes and breathe.

But, as if summoned by your thoughts, Gwayne appears, limping slightly as he approaches. “Lady Caswell,” he greets you.

You open your eyes and look up at him, surprised to see him outside of the tent. “You shouldn’t be walking,” you say.

He lowers himself onto the ground beside you, groaning as he does. “I needed some air,” he says quietly. “And I think you could use some company.”

You sit beside Ser Gwayne in the quiet of the night.

��You know,” Gwayne begins, his voice soft, “this is the longest conversation I’ve had in a while that didn’t revolve around injuries or strategy.”

You chuckle lightly. “I can imagine. It’s not easy finding moments of peace in a place like this.”

Gwayne nods. “I’ve been thinking about what you said before. About how you came here to make a difference.”

“Yeah?” you reply, looking at him.

Gwayne meets your eyes, “You’re doing more than most of us, you know. You’re saving lives, giving hope.”

You blush slightly, “It’s not always easy. Sometimes I wonder if I’m making any real difference.”

“You are,” he insists, reaching out to gently touch your hand. “I see it. I’ve seen the way you care for everyone, how you give everything you have.”

You feel a shiver at his touch, the warmth of his hand against yours.

Gwayne leans closer, his eyes searching yours. “I know this isn’t the place for… this,” he says softly, “but I needed to tell you how much I admire what you’re doing. And how much I appreciate you.”

Before you can say more, he gently closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. You respond, feeling the passion and longing in the moment.

But as the kiss deepens, a wave of realization hits you. This isn’t the time, and it’s certainly not the place for such feelings to complicate matters. You pull back gently, your breath quick.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, standing up. “We shouldn’t… We’re both here for important reasons, and this—” you gesture between you, “—isn’t right.”

Gwayne looks at you with understanding, his expression a mix of regret and affection. “I understand,” he says quietly. “It was a mistake.”

“No,” you correct him, “not a mistake. Just not the right time. We both have too much to focus on right now.”

He nods, his eyes filled with warmth and a touch of sadness. “Goodnight, Lady Caswell.”

“Goodnight, Ser Gwayne,” you reply, offering him a soft smile before turning away.

As you walk back to your tent, your mind is a whirl of emotions. The kiss was a moment of connection, but the reality of your situation settles in. You need to stay focused on your duties and not let personal feelings distract you from the important work ahead.

The next morning you found Lysa outside the tent, sitting on a barrel.

“You know,” she said as you sat down besides her, “I’ve seen the way that knight looks at you.”

You sigh, not in the mood for this conversation. “He’s recovering, Lysa. His mind is clouded with fever and pain. He probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying.”

Lysa chuckled, shaking her head. “No, his fever broke days ago. Trust me, that man knows exactly what he’s saying.”

You glance at her. “It’s nothing.”

“Is it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I see the way you talk to him. You like him.”

You roll your eyes, “Lysa, I didn’t come here for this.”

“Maybe not,” she said, leaning back, her gaze shifting to the distant horizon, “but sometimes life gives you things you didn’t expect.”

You and Lysa were still talking near the tent when the distant thud of footsteps reached your ears. The sound wasn’t normal. It was too loud, too fast. Then, the shouting started.

“Attack!” someone yelled from the other side of the camp.

Soldiers were rushing to grab their weapons as a group of enemy soldiers burst through the camp, moving with terrifying speed.

You turned to Lysa. “We need to get the wounded out of here, now!”

Together, you rushed into the tent where the injured men lay, Ser Gwayne among them. He was awake but clearly in no condition to fight.

“What’s happening?” Ser Gwayne asked, struggling to sit up.

“The camp is under attack,” you replied quickly, moving to help another soldier out of his bed. “We need to move everyone before the raiders get here.”

Ser Gwayne tried to get up, but his leg gave out, and he collapsed back onto the bed. You hurried over to him, “You’re coming with us. No fighting.”

He frowned but didn’t argue.

More healthy soldiers rushed into the tent, and together, you began lifting the wounded onto a cart that had been brought to the entrance. You worked quickly, heart pounding, as the sounds of the attack grew closer.

One of the soldiers, helped you carry Ser Gwayne onto the back of the cart. “Let’s get them out of here!” he shouted.

The man climbed onto the driver’s seat, grabbing the reins of the horses. You and Lysa jumped up on the cart sitting with the wounded.

The horses raced forward, pulling the cart through the camp. You could see the flames now, the camp had been set on fire.

The wounded moaned and shifted with every bump, but there was no time to stop.

“We’re almost there,” the man muttered, his eyes scanning the horizon. You could see the cliffs that bordered the camp, and just beneath them, the mouth of the cave you had mentioned earlier.

The cave was deep enough to hide in, and for now, it was your only chance of getting everyone to safety.

As you neared the entrance, one of the soldiers riding beside the cart let out a sharp scream. You turned to see him clutching his side, an arrow protruding from between his ribs. He fell off his horse, but you couldn’t stop.

“No!” Lysa screamed in disbelief.

“We need to hurry!” you yelled, gripping the edge of the cart.

With a final burst of speed, the cart entered the cave’s mouth.

“We made it,” Lysa breathed, her voice trembling with relief.

You jumped down from the cart to help unload the wounded. The soldiers who had made it into the cave with you began pulling the injured men off the cart, laying them down on the cool stone floor. Ser Gwayne was the last one off, his face pale.

“Thank you,” he said quietly as you helped him to his feet.

“You can thank me when we’re safe,” you replied. Outside, you could hear the distant sounds of fighting in the camp, but for now, the cave was safe.

“We need to stay quiet,” Lysa whispered, moving to stand beside you. “If they find us here…”

“They won’t,” you said. You turned to Ser Gwayne, who was leaning against the cave wall. “How’s your leg?”

“I’ll manage,” he replied through gritted teeth. “But what now?”

You looked around the cave, your mind racing.

“We wait,” you said after a moment. “Just long enough for the fighting to stop. Then we move again.” See Gwayne nodded, although you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

The wounded soldiers groaned softly as they tried to make themselves comfortable on the rocky floor. Lysa sat beside one of them, her face tight with worry as she tended to their wounds.

The night dragged on, and the once distant sounds of battle now sounded closer every moment. You and Ser Gwayne sat at the back of the cave, listening to the clashing steel and the cries of men in the distance.

You stared up through the small opening at the top of the cave’s ceiling, where you could perfectly see the moon high in the sky. You glanced at Gwayne, who was leaning against the wall, his face pale and tense as he listened to the battle. His leg was stretched out in front of him, still causing him pain despite the bandages. Every now and then, you saw his hand twitch toward his sword, as though he were ready to fight again despite his injuries.

"They're not going to stop," you said softly, breaking the silence.

Gwayne looked at you, "No, they won't."

The battle was drawing closer. You had been hiding for hours, and the hope that the fighting would stop had vanished. Even if you went back, the camp would likely be destroyed, the supplies either burned or taken. There would be no help, no rescue.

"We might not make it through the night," you whispered.

Gwayne's gaze softened. He reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently. "We might not," he agreed, his voice quiet.

“You ever think about how strange it all is?” Gwayne whispered after a moment. “One minute you’re fighting for your life, the next you’re here… staring at the moon.”

You smiled. “It is strange. But I suppose that’s life. Never quite what you expect.”

He laughed softly at that. “You’re far too calm about all of this. Most people would be panicking out of their minds.”

“Trust me, I’m frightened,” you admitted, meeting his gaze. “I just hide it well.”

He reached out, his hand brushing against yours, the touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself shifting closer to him.

“You’re something else,” he said softly, his voice low. There was an edge to his tone, something raw and unguarded.

You felt your pulse quicken. “Is that a compliment, Ser Gwayne?”

“It might be,” he replied, a teasing glint

You looked down at your joined hands. "I never thought it would end like this," you murmured, "In a cave, with nothing left but a few wounded men and no chance to save them."

Gwayne’s grip tightened. "It's not the end yet," he said, "But if it is…"

You took a deep breath, "If this is it… if this is the last night…" You said with a shaky voice, but you forced yourself to meet his eyes. "I don't want to spend it in fear."

Gwayne looked at you, he gave you a small chuckle. "You know… I've thought about that too. If we're going to die, why waste the time we have left in misery?"

You look at him, your gaze fixated on his lips "Then let's not."

Gwayne's eyes searched yours, and then, without another word, he pulled you toward him.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, filled with a need that went beyond mere desire.

He pulled you closer with his good hand. The kiss deepened, growing more desperate. You pressed yourself against him, your heart racing as his lips moved down pressing soft kisses against your neck.

He looked back up to you, “My leg’s no good for much, but I’m not about to let that stop us,” he whispered.

You smiled, “Then let me take over.”

Gently, you guided him down to the ground on his back, careful of his injured leg. He watched you with desperate eyes as you sat on top him, adjusting yourself carefully so as not to cause him pain. His hands instinctively slid to your hips, his touch firm but gentle.

Your hands rested on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat racing, matching the wild rhythm of your own. You leaned in close, pressing your lips to his with a tenderness that contrasted with the fierce urgency you both felt.

You broke the kiss for just a moment, sitting up to pull your shirt over your head. His eyes roamed over you with raw hunger, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing across your sensitive nipples.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, leaning up to press his lips against your collarbone, kissing his way down.

You gasped softly as his lips found a tender spot on your neck. Your hands moved to undo the ties at your waist, slipping out of your pants, leaving you completely bare before him.

With his help, you shifted slightly to tug his trousers down. He was already hard, his length pressing eagerly against your thigh as you settled back atop him. The tension between you both was almost unbearable as you pulled yourself up, the tip of him brushing against your wet entrance.

He groaned softly as you lowered your body and began to roll your hips against him. His hands gripped your waist tighter, helping to guide you as you moved.

“Does it hurt?” you whispered breathlessly.

He shook his head as he looked up at you. “No… it feels good. Don’t stop.”

“You’re perfect,” he breathed, his voice filled

with pleasure. He tilted his head up, capturing your lips in a kiss. Your bodies moved in sync, the sound of your panting breaths and the sounds of your bodies clashing filled the cave.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently as you kissed him harder, your hips rolling harder. You could feel yourself nearing your climax.

“Gwayne…” you gasped his name, breaking the kiss.

He groaned again, his eyes locked on yours as he thrust up into you with what strength he had,“I’m right here,” he whispered, his voice low.

That was all it took for you to come. Your body trembled as you reached your peak, your head falling back. You felt Gwayne follow moments later, his grip on you tightening as he came too, his body trembling beneath yours as he filled you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breaths in uneven gasps. You collapsed against his chest, your bodies still connected.

His hands moved lazily up and down your back, a gentle, reassuring touch. You lifted your head, pressing a soft kiss to his jawline.

“That… was worth it,” Gwayne murmured, his lips quirking into a tired but satisfied smile.

You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I think so too.”

“I think I can die at peace now.” Gwayne sighed gazing at the moon.

“I think so too.” you nodded smiling at him.

Pt.2???

[zeppelinlvr]

Still Feel Like That

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: you accompany Dean, Sam, and Bobby on a hunt. You and Dean go out for a drink and Dean looks after you when you've had too much to drink.

Notes: Reader is a yapper (cus same), kinda implied that reader is Bobby's kid but it's not stated outright, sorry if you like Poison or Bret Micheals reader hates on them for a second, I assumed that Dean switched out his radio with one that would be compatible with cassettes since a 67' would likely have a 8 track player, I got lazy with my research so I apologize if any facts are incorrect (feel free to correct me).

Warnings: Suggestive language, flirting, cursing, mentions of throwing up, y/n is used like three times, Dean in his undies (yummy!)

Word Count: 4.1k

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You sat at Bobby’s old wooden table, sipping hot coffee from your Garfield mug. You didn’t own it but when you saw the grumpy orange cat with a text saying ‘I'm listening I just don’t care’ sitting on Bobby’s shelf of mismatched old mugs you’d used the cup ever since. 

You sat in your pajama shorts, slippers, and an old tee shirt, the cracked text reading “Winfield national flatpickin’ championships”. The shirt previously belonged to Bobby and he couldn’t remember how he acquired such an item, he assumed he was passing through Kansas and picked it up along the way, but you loved it so much he felt it was necessary to give it to you. 

You were reading through a book you had picked up on demonology. Bobby had given you a few vague events that had occurred and you were trying to figure out what exactly he was dealing with. You had a book on Pagan gods on standby. 

You heard the front door open, figuring it was Bobby you chose to continue reading but when you heard unfamiliar voices you quickly looked up in a panic, nearly knocking your chair over to try to scramble and find Bobby. You were not a hunter by any means, you just did the research and stayed in the comfort of motels. You knew some basic self defense but you could not fight a serious threat on your own.

You were making a dash for the nearest room when you heard Bobby yell your name. 

You quickly spun around to look at him, seeing two tall, handsome, potentially dangerous, men standing next to him. 

“What the hell are you doing kid?” Bobby asked you, concerned by your panic stricken expression.

“I heard people- and I was trying to find you and not die” You uttered out, still confused about who the two other men were. “Sorry, who the hell are these guys” you added 

“Sam and Dean I talk-” Bobby started but you cut him off 

“Winchester?” you asked excitedly “Bobby talks about you two all the time and I really wanted to meet both of you, especially Dean, Bobby says you make stupid decisions but you sound fun” you rambled quickly, a smirk growing on the shorter ones face at your mention of him. 

“Oh my god you have to be Sam, you totally have that sad puppy look” you said to the taller one “You could ask me to donate my life savings to a charity then build a shelter for the homeless and I totally would” you continued to talk.

“I like her” the shorter man who you had now assumed was Dean said with a grin 

“Wait Dean” you started turning to him “Did you drive your car here, I’ve heard rumors it's a totally awesome 67’ impala and I’ve been dying to see it” 

Before Dean could respond with a comment about how you were marriage material Bobby interrupted your rambling “Okay motor mouth, I’m sure Sam and Dean are enthralled by your commentary but they need our help” 

“Are you the super smart Y/n?” Sam asked 

“The one who has saved our asses more times than we can count” Dean added

“Yes, that's her, and I don't prefer to shout about her to the whole world because she's not exactly Hulk Hogan” Bobby said, growing slightly annoyed with the continued blabbering. 

“Really? Hulk Hogan? You have to compare me to that doofus, call me Bret Micheals while you’re at it” You shot at him 

“I’m sorry, would you prefer to be Kerry VonErich” Bobby sighed 

“Yes, minus his incredibly tragic life” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Bobby why have we not met this chick sooner, she's awesome” Dean said slightly in awe. 

“You two don't care to stop by all that often and I knew you and her would get along real well and we wouldn't get anything done” Bobby responded hinting at the exact situation that was happening. 

“Let me see Dean’s car then I promise I will be productive” you offered

“Yeah let her see my car” Dean added, Sam smiling at the situation and Bobby rolling his eyes and reluctantly agreeing. 

The four of you made your way outside and when you saw the impala you let out a gasp of excitement before sprinting towards it. 

“She is so beautiful” you gushed to Dean “You keep her in phenomenal condition, does she run well?” 

“Like she’s new” Dean responded, smiling at your excitement over the car. 

“Is there an 8 track player? I have a few tapes I could give you if you want” You offered 

“Switched it out for a cassette player” Dean told you

“Good choice, 8 tracks are such a hassle, you can hear another song playing in the background of whatever you're trying to listen to, and don't even think about trying to fast forward to get to the song you want, at least you have a slim chance to land on the right song with cassettes” you rambled 

“Yeah no kidding, you wanna see my tape collection” Dean offered 

“Nope, we agreed on just the car now we need to figure out what the hell is going on in Pawnee Nebraska” Bobby interrupted as the four of you made your way back into the house 

“I’m so sick of going to these ho-hum towns, why can't you guys hunt things that reside in memphis or something, I want to go to a museum that isn't about the butter cow or a mayor who died of dysentery” You said with a sigh

“Hunting in this ho hum town means road trip and i'm sure Dean would be delighted to let you ride down with him” Bobby offered for Dean, partly because he wanted some silence in his own car and he also wanted you, Dean, and Sam to be able to talk as much as you pleased and hopefully be caught up so you could focus on working. 

Dean agreed to the idea and Sam shrugged, hoping you would prevent bickering between him and his brother. 

“I promised I’d focus so Sam, you’re smart, have you found out more than some bad weather and a ‘still under investigation death of a couple’” You asked, turning to the taller brother, offering him a smile, slightly feeling bad you’d paid so much attention to his brother and not talked to Sam much. 

“Yeah, I think the weather is unrelated, I found autopsy reports and the couple had these wounds on the back of their necks. I don't recognize the pattern but you might be able to” he replied to you with a soft smile, he made his way to his computer and set it on the table where your abandoned books and coffee lay. 

You made a noise of disgust upon seeing the picture but you instantly recognized the wound pattern “That has to be changelings, they feed off of the mother until she dies, it's so creepy” You started “In a lot of the books I’ve read they switch out an infant for a changeling, did the couple have a kid?” you asked 

“Yeah, but she's a little girl who’s ten years old” Sam replied to you

“Different cultures have varying takes on changelings, some of them say they can grow and develop like a human would, so it's definitely a possibility” You told him “We have to get down there asap before more kids are switched out, and when you figure out where the little girl is at now, monitor her behavior closely, she's gonna be hungry and use abnormal phrases for a ten year old.” You explained

“Alright you heard her” Dean said, squeezing between you and Sam and placing a hand on your shoulder. He secretly wanted your attention back on him. 

“Let me pack a bag and change then I’ll be ready to head out” you told them

“Same goes for me, give us five minutes” Bobby added

You headed to your room and changed into jeans and tee shirt, additionally throwing on a crewneck from a college in Louisiana that you had found in the aisles of a thrift store. 

You threw a few additional outfits in a duffle bag and your pajamas which consisted of sleep shorts and a tee shirt, you threw your slippers for your constantly cold feet in the bag and you were ready to go. 

Your socked feet padded against the floor as you made your way to the front door to grab your shoes. You threw them on and told the group you were ready to go. 

Dean, Sam and you crowded into the impala, Dean leaping on the opportunity to tell Sam to sit in the back after you had informed the brothers you get carsick. 

“I have zofran, Sam can sit in the front, I don't want to take his spot” you said 

“Nope, Sam get in the back” Dean quickly said as he took his spot in the driver's seat. 

After the three of you had gotten in the car and started on the trip Sam complained “Dean, I know there's a pretty girl but what if I get carsick in the back” 

“You won't, and the very pretty girl won't complain about my music choices” Dean told him and raised his brows at you.

Your face heated at how they referred to you, you cleared your throat and changed the subject “I know you guys are more hands on than me so I know a few ways to figure these things out, different folklore says if you can make them laugh they’ll reveal their truth, or you can shout god bless you, you can cook with eggshells. German legends say you can whip the child but honestly the easiest way to kill them is just lighting the fuckers on fire” You explained “People used to throw them in the fireplace or in the oven but you can get away with a blowtorch and a can of hairspray” 

“That's more our speed” Dean replied 

“People were seriously throwing these things in ovens?” Sam asked “What if the kid wasn't actually a changeling” 

“People got overly paranoid and it wasnt exactly common knowledge back then that someone could be born with physical or mental disabilities, also families used to be really reliant on everyone in the household being able to help out so a lot of child abuse ensued because parents didnt want to have a changeling on their hands” You explained “Anyway these things creep me out so lets talk about something more lighthearted on the way there” 

“i agree sweetheart” Dean said and you blushed at the name “I heard your comment about Bret Micheals, are you a Poison hater” 

“I can tolerate them but I will not go out of my way to listen to them, they’re definitely one of the lamest hair bands” you told him “I definitely prefer Van Halen, Quiet Riot, Def Leppard and Cinderella if I’m going to listen to hair bands” 

“Atta girl, you don’t like that Barry Manilow bullshit do you?” Dean asked 

“God no, fuck Styx too, that Babe song pisses me off” you laughed 

“Cus you know it’s you babe” Sam started singing off key and you groaned in annoyance, Dean laughing. 

The three of you talked about music, movies, and Sam and Dean's past hunts, asking odd would you rather questions when trying to think of new conversation topics 

“Okay would you rather have to eat a little bit of cheese on everything or never eat cheese again” you asked 

“Never eat cheese again” Sam quickly answered 

“I’d put a little bit on everything I fucking love cheese” you answered 

After extensive conversation and small bits of bickering the three of you made it to Nebraska, Bobby close behind.

Dean checked into the hotel, getting two rooms, one for him and Sam and one for you and Bobby. He gave the woman behind the counter a credit card with a name that most certainly was not his then the three of you made your way to the rooms. Dean opened the door to one of the rooms and the cowboy theme of the room made you laugh.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em’ Dean” you said 

“It’s fun, this cowboy boot pen holder on the desk is cute” he said, picking up the small red ceramic boot with a few pens sticking out of it.

“It is kinda cute, and I like the lasso on the wall” you pointed out 

“Oh man, creepy” you said as you noticed the sad clown painting hanging above the bed. 

“That's coming down” Sam said and quickly moved over to the painting to take it off the wall and lay it face down in the corner of the room. 

“Sammy here is a afraid of clowns” Dean informed you

“I don’t blame him, they’re scary, and all the media about killer clowns doesn’t exactly make me want to see one” you replied 

Bobby arrived at the motel shortly after the three of you had gotten the rooms. The four of you were discussing plans for the next day as it was later and you all agreed to start interviewing people in the morning. 

“i’m gonna go grab a drink, I saw a bar about ten minutes from here” Dean announced 

“I’ll join you if Bobby and Sam don’t need help with research” you said 

“Go take a break kid, you work your ass off, me and Sam will be fine” Bobby told you, you thanked him and gave him a quick hug before heading out with Dean. 

You weren’t surprised by the crowd at the bar, mostly older men who looked like they had just gotten off work, farm clothes and dirty work shirts adorned most of them. A few of them had women who you assumed were their wives at their side, chatting quietly with them. You were glad your outfit wasn’t out of place for the scene. 

A man who you guessed to be around fifty was working behind the bar, he gave Dean and you a soft smile before asking what you’d like to drink. 

“I’ll take a beer” Dean told him

“Busch okay? We don’t have anything else” The bartender replied 

“Perfect” 

“And for the pretty lady” the bartender asked 

“I’ll just take a vodka cranberry” you said, not minding his comment too much, you knew he didn’t mean anything by it, people just talked like that. 

You and Dean sat at the bar after getting your drinks, chatting with each other. 

One drink led to another and you lost count of how many you had drank. You were asking Dean silly questions and you began to vocalize your thoughts about how handsome he is.

“I know you can't kill a vampire with a wooden stake, but have you ever tried death by stereo?” you asked with a giggle, you had taken your hand into his and were toying with his fingers. 

“The Lost Boys is a great movie, me and Sammy will try out death by stereo just for you the next time we hunt vampires” he replied earning a laugh from you.

“You are so manly and cute and handsome” you slurred poking a finger into his chest, eyes widening at the firmness of his muscles “Oh my gosh you’re strong too, I feel like I just poked a rock” 

He laughed and shook his head at your comments “Let's get you to bed before you say more shit you’ll regret tomorrow.” 

“I don't regret anything, I’ve been thinking about how cute you are all day, and those big arms wrapped around-” You blabbered but were cut off by Dean.

“Yep time for bed, but give me a heads up sweetheart if you still feel this way after you’ve sobered up” 

“I’m going to pay, then we’re going to get in the car, then get you to bed” he added

“Very forward, I like it” you giggled with a raise of your brows. 

After Dean paid he walked you out to the Impala, you stumbling slightly finding it hard to walk after being sat down all night. 

“I'm cold” you lied, you were not cold but you wanted his jacket.

“You have a sweater on?” he replied with confusion lacing his tone.

“You're supposed to give me your jacket then I can smell like you” you told him and tried to give him a hug while still walking. 

He forced a sigh then wrapped his jacket around you. You snuggled into it and thanked him.

After a car ride consisting of you informing Dean your feet hurt and you were tired, the two of you arrived back at the motel.

Dean opened the door to yours and Bobby's shared room. You giggled noticing the lights were off. 

Dean attempted to shush you “he's probably asleep already, quiet down” 

You only laughed harder at the fact you needed to be quiet “he looks like Ebenezer Scrooge when he sleeps, he just needs the little hat” you commented through your giggles, Dean tried to hide his smile to not encourage you. 

“I always think the ghost of Christmas past is gonna get him” you said before bursting into laughter and Dean quickly slapping his hand over your mouth. He pushed you into the bathroom and shut the door attempting to muffle your giggles. He flipped the light on and asked you where your duffle bag was. 

“In the room somewhere” you shrugged 

“Well no shit sweetheart” 

“It's on my bed I think” you giggled 

“Okay perfect you stay right here and I’ll go get it then you're going to change and go to bed” he told you

Dean groped through the dark until he found your bag, it was sitting on your bed as you had told him. He made his way back to the bathroom to find you sitting on the toilet lid, playing with the toilet paper roll that had the first square folded into a fancy shape. 

“Isn't this just precious” you said and showed him the toilet paper

“Yes, very cute put it down” he said and took the roll out of your hands, placing it on the counter. 

He opened your bag and fished out your shorts and a tee shirt “get changed” 

“No can do, can’t get my pants off” you shrugged with a fake sigh 

Usually Dean would be enthralled to take a girl's pants off but he wasn’t in the mood for an ass whooping from Bobby. 

He just prayed Bobby wouldn’t wake up because you weren’t budging. He helped you shimmy your jeans off your legs, then slipped your shorts onto you. 

“Need help with my shirt too” you said as you shrugged his jacket off your shoulders and put it into your lap. 

He slipped your crewneck over your head, your shirt coming off with it. He quickly took in your figure, admiring the sight of you in your bra before he slipped a clean shirt over your head. 

You unclasped your bra and slipped it off from under your shirt before tossing it on the bathroom floor. 

“Really? you can do that but you can’t change on your own” Dean whisper yelled 

“I can’t show you too much” you shrugged “now can you carry me to bed?”

He was willing to do anything to get you in bed at this point so he scooped you up in his arms and carried you out to your bed, you giggled as he threw you down onto the sheets. 

“Go to bed now” he whispered and you quickly made yourself comfortable under the blankets, cuddling into his jacket that you still held in your arms. 

You heard the door close and you soon drifted off to sleep. 

You awoke around four in the morning the red numbers off the alarm clock informing you of the time. You were starving and the alcohol had barely worn off. you crawled out of bed and slipped on Dean's jacket, it hung loosely on your figure, the length going past your shorts and the sleeves being far too long. You were glad for the added warmth because you were freezing. 

You were absolutely craving fried chicken and you dug through the mini fridge wholeheartedly expecting to find some, when the disappointment hit you, you left the room and went into Sam and Dean's room, letting yourself in with the spare key you had been given. 

You began to dig through their refrigerator in the dark, expecting to find some chicken but when you heard a gun click and the light flipped on, you spun around, met by Dean in his underwear and Sam shuffling in moments later with his blanket wrapped around him.

“What the hell are you doing” Dean asked 

“I want fried chicken so bad” you complained 

“Why would we have fried chicken?” Dean asked, still groggy and confused. 

“I don’t know I just wanted to check” you told him 

Sam laughed at the interaction, telling Dean he shouldn’t have let you drink so much before he headed back to his bed. 

“I promise I will get you fried chicken in the morning but please go back to bed” Dean told you 

“You look cute in your undies” you giggled 

“And you look cute in my jacket now go to bed” he mimicked your giggle. 

You agreed but not before you made him promise to get you your food in the morning, you made him lock pinkies with you despite his complaints of annoyance. 

You made your way back to your room and quickly fell asleep again. 

The next morning was hell, Bobby woke you up around 8 and you were met with a headache and a need for water. The second you stood up you found yourself running to the bathroom as a nauseating feeling built in your throat. 

You heard Sam and Dean talking as you were throwing up the memories of last night. Both of them asking how you were doing, and Bobby explaining you were currently throwing up, expecting an explanation from Dean as to why. 

Dean ducked out of the conversation “I’m going to get her water and hold her hair back, like a man does” he walked into the bathroom and gave a small chuckle at your figure hunched over the toilet. 

“Do not fucking laugh at me” you groaned 

“You still want that fried chicken” he asked, and you gagged at the thought, he grabbed you a cup of water to rinse your mouth out with and handed you the toilet paper you had been previously admiring to wipe your mouth off with. 

You wiped the sweat from your forehead and the tears from your eyes before standing up to brush your teeth. 

“You still gotta work today you know” Dean told you 

you rolled your eyes at him and after you had finished brushing your teeth you said “I’ll survive, I can tolerate sitting and reading, you have to go fight the things” 

You and Dean joined Bobby and Sam, Sam having told Bobby about you breaking into their room. You were expecting to get your ass chewed out but all you got from Bobby was “Kid I’m glad you had fun, you need to loosen up sometimes, but we still need your help today, so I expect your best” 

You agreed and gave him a quick hug before setting up a spot to research on the desk in the room. 

Sam and Dean left to put on formal clothes as they were posing as detectives and had to look the part. They returned to the room after changing. 

“Don’t you boys look handsome” you said with a grin 

“We have to be believable” Dean grumbled 

“I’m being serious, you look nice” you smiled “I’m going to look for potential demonic activity in other areas, call me if you need anything” 

“Will do sweetheart” Dean replied 

“Thanks for all your help y/n, we’ll pick you up some fried chicken on our way back” Sam grinned 

Your stomach churned at the thought of eating anything but maybe you’d change your mind later in the day, so you didn’t shut him down. 

As the three were turning to leave you said “by the way Dean, I do still feel like that” earning a grin from him and his head flooding with thoughts of what he could do to you when he got back. 

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[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Have you had enough?

Targaryen reader x Aemond Targaryen x Aegon Targaryen.

Your husband and brother, Aemond, have been taking everything that belonged to Aegon. You're tired of it, the drop that spilled the glass was Aegon's incident. Your brother, the one who you actually love, badly injured, that was the end of your patience.

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to, I took them from the Tumblr blogs: bbygirl-aemond / Winterswake/ tarth. Grammatical and spelling errors, I haven't watched this chapter of HOTD yet, I just needed to take the idea out of my mind so I can continue with a new chapter of the story (By fire and heart).

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Everybody running and walking from one room to another, you didn't understand at first why all the scandal until you saw a group of guards carrying your brother.

Aegon and you were close, spending much time together which your mother clearly didn't see with good eyes, you loved him in the way you couldn't love your husband.

Aemond took you as a wife and treated you with respect but not love, he never loved you, he simply took you because both were single and your little brother was far away from home to save you from that terrible unhappy marriage, it was only you and him, when he heard about your little secret romance with Aegon, he made you his wife before you could dishonor yourself that was his argument, but the truth was he did it for the simple fact to not give Aegon the satisfaction to also be the owner of you, or your body, silly Aemond never thought what actually mattered it was your heart, Aegon was deep inside your heart. A thousand men could be between your legs but only one could have your heart, loyalty and devotion.

You walked behind the guards questioning what happened. None of them could answer you, once they're in the king's chambers, one of the masters asks you to not interfere and wait out of the room.

- My princess, please you have to wait and let us work. In your conditions the least you need is stress.

You're going to respond when you see Aemond walking inside, he doesn't even stop to see you, you're sure he didn't listen to what the master told you, he walks directly to Aegon's bed. You walk and stay behind him, your tears falling as soon as you see your beloved brother, his precious face now half burned as much as the rest of his body, you're sure Aemond was behind all that, you left the room looking for Ser Criston, you found him on the way to your mother's chambers.

- What happened?

- My princess, I don't know, everything was fast, I just saw the king and his dragon falling.

- Don't dare to lie to me. Did my husband have something to do with this?

He doesn't talk but silently nod at you. Your body is burning with rage, you're furious you would love to burn your husband alive. His thirst for... power? Revenge for the traumas of childhood? Whatever it was, has taken it too far. Your nephews death and now your brother fighting for his life, Rhaenyra claiming the throne, dealing with a war and the pain of her newborn and Lucerys deaths, the poor Helaena trying to accept her son's death too and now carrying with a husband who probably will end as your father ended, in that bed looking the days and nights go until the gods have mercy and let him die.

You've been avoiding Aemond since they arrived, you spent much of your time with Aegon, Helaena doesn't complain, she's okay with it, she always knew your feelings for her husband, she's glad you're taking care of him and occasionally visit the king's chambers to help you or at least to talk with you. Even your mother visited Aegon, but there were no signs of Aemond.

Until one evening, you were holding Aegon's hand, whispering something close enough to him hoping he somehow could listen to what you were sharing with him, when the doors of his room opened, you did not see him but you were sure it was Aemond for the sound of his boots on the floor, you know his way to walk by heart.

- Ao spend olvie jēda kesīr (you spend much time here)

- Se ao spend olvie jēda sitting va zȳhon dēmalion (And you spend much time sitting on his throne)

You don't Even look at him, you're still holding Aegon's hand, contemplating what once was his face.

- Perhaps my wife could support me as much as she's supporting our brother. Your devotion to him is admirable, but it's what I'm expecting you to give me, not to him.

- Why would I support you? All the atrocities you've been causing and you expect me to congratulate you, to love you?

- Are you accusing me of something, wife?

His jaw tensed, his eye looks at you full of anger.

- Don't pretend you're innocent, I know you. You always wanted to take Aegon's place. You always take what is not yours, tell me husband, have you had enough? What else do you want?

Before he can argue again, Aegon opens his eyes, with the few strength he still has, he squeezes your hand.

Aemond notices it and pushes you aside, he starts to talk with Aegon, asking him what he remembers, he insists it wasn't his dragon who attacked him. Aegon simply says he doesn't remember anything, but you know he's lying, Aegon always has been good to keep himself safe, his facility to preserve his own survival and right now his only chance to survive it was to pretend he did not remember what happened.

Aemond was not going to leave the discussion in the air. He left but you're sure he will be back to try to make you regret your accusations.

Just as you predicted, At the hour of the owl, he appeared in your chambers, you were awake, looking through your window, you know how much he hates your indifference against him.

- So, what else will you take from our brother this time?

You say without any worry. Aemond walks until he's right behind you, you can feel his jaw against your head.

- What he expected to claim too. You.

He whispered while placing his hands around your waist, you couldn't contain your laughing, Aemond confusion made it harder to keep. You laughed loudly on his face, you are now face to face with your husband, he has never seen that look, your eyes darkened and your smile was full of evil, giving him a small kiss on the lips, murmuring almost whispering.

- Oh Aemond, do you seriously think I was still a pure untouched little princess?

He stepped back, his face doesn't show any emotion but you can feel his blood boiling.

- I am pregnant.

- Liar. I made everything to be sure he would not put a finger on you.

- Ask the master, I'm waiting for my first child.

Seeing his body tensed and full of anger brings you a new kind of feeling, it's an addictive pleasure you didn't know could exist.

-You know what makes it funnier? Even if one day I have your child, he will be just like you.

- What do you mean?

- A Second son who will not inherit anything. Or even better you will never have a child with me because I will prefer to be burned alive before giving birth to your children.

He quickly takes you by the neck and slams you against the wall, pressing his body against yours, even with the lack of air in your lungs, the pleasure of seeing him frustrated makes you feel alive, excited. He released you and left the room without saying more.

Once you take some air, you smile to yourself, your husband and his poor try to keep you away from Aegon, expecting to have you all for himself, but not even your body belongs to Aemond, he never thought he would be so frustrated about such a little thing like that, not having your love or your respect was the last thing he thought he would care about, the last thing he would desire to have more than anything else.

[midnightsslut]

religion is one of the most prominent recurring themes on the album, and it has been present in some capacity for quite a few records now. taylor previously compared love to religion: her saving grace, her belief system, and a fated divine intervention (false god, cornelia street, and cruel summer are the best examples of this). ‘sacred new beginnings that became my religion’ and ‘we’d still worship this love even if it’s a false god’ are two of the defining statements about her philosophy on the lover album.

taylor doesn’t want to leave all of that behind on ttpd, at least not at the beginning. the first supernatural force she mentions is the spaceship on down bad, which she compares to a skylight of freedom in the epilogue. *something* has finally come to save her from her life of suffering. she doesn’t care if it’s a force of good at first; if anything, she’s just fine being taken away by aliens. she views this man as her destiny. it isn’t until guilty as sin? that taylor starts to ponder the moral implications of what she’s doing. is she guilty as sin for wanting to leave her previous religion and relationship behind? she comes to the conclusion that, even if she rolls the stone away and gets resurrected/redeemed, she cannot avoid the fallout. she is okay with the thought of having to wait, as long as both lovers vow to be together forever, just as she once did with someone else in false god. ‘I choose you and me religiously’ finishes the bridge of the song in a direct callback to cornelia street.

the next mention of religion has murkier imagery. she claims that she does not need the Lord’s help to save this man. she sees the halo that he has, and she can fix him herself. now that she feels free of her prior cage, she isn’t looking for divine intervention anymore. she wants control. she is their route to salvation.

when the relationship falls apart, she retreats back into the position of a believer rather than a divine figure. she compares him to a Holy Ghost who promised to save her and take her to heaven. instead, she is in hell in every sense of the word: she’s down bad and feels guilty for digging up the grave. he was a jehovah’s witness who promised that she could break free of the cage imposed by love without changing her religion altogether; she would’ve just had to switch denominations. she could still have a marriage and kids! she could still have a blue tortured poet! the man was different, but not the dreams they had together. the story of the first part of the album ends here. her faith has been broken, and she has only found any semblance of sanity by refusing to mention these belief systems altogether.

side b/the anthology blends the christian imagery of side a with goddesses, sorcerers, and prophecies. she bargains with these powers to let her have the future she wants (the prophecy). she doesn’t sound like someone believing in salvation. if anything, she feels cursed. she decides that the concept of divinely ordained timing will never work in certain relationships (‘the goddess of timing once found us beguiling / she said she was trying / peter, was she lying?’). this disdain extends onto her perception of other people’s faith (‘bet they never spared a prayer for my soul’). she does position herself as a prophet in cassandra, but even then, she admits that the role has hurt her. perhaps the pain in thank you aimee was meant to be, or perhaps she was just strong enough to build a legacy in spite of it, boulder by boulder. is she a martyr? does she want to be? or did she save herself?

the only real love song on this half of the album makes no mention of fate or any divine forces. it wasn’t meant to be. it’s not a supernatural invisible string or lightning in a bottle. she is just in love.

the album ends with the manuscript, which revisits an old story of a defining, formative heartbreak. as she sings ‘at last, she knew what the agony had been for’ while describing the legacy of her writing, she seems to revert to thinking about the purpose of trauma. the only exception is that, in this case, she is the one who found meaning in her pain by turning it into a manuscript. writing is her belief system now, and she proselytizes by telling her stories and thus giving up the manuscript.

ultimately, her belief in destiny has chewed her up and spat her out. she so desperately clung to her existing belief systems that she was fooled by a conman, which left her feeling cursed. religion is supposed to be with someone even in their darkest moments, but the album explains that taylor often felt abandoned. the only constant in her life was, well, herself. she’ll be okay, but her pen will be her saving grace.

[perfectlyoongi]

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who writes you a song as a marriage proposal. as intelligent as Namjoon could be, when he was nervous it was difficult for him to express himself verbally and he knew perfectly well that in that request he would run over every word and choke on them; that's why Namjoon decided to open his soul in the most natural way for him: the song was small, brief, just a verse and a chorus, but every word was beautiful, peppered with the love he felt, ringing with a melody of hope from an eternal future by your side. “i’m not very good with words, i hope the song is enough for you.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who hires a painter to portray your special day. yes, photographs were beautiful, faster, saving every moment and action they could; but, for Namjoon, there was magic on a canvas, in how each brushstroke was like a fragment of your dreams and hopes, the vivid colors complementing each other and appearing as an omen for your married life. “i think a portrait of us is more intimate. i think it’s with oil paints that you can clearly see our love and happiness.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who writes your initials in the corners of his music sheets. Namjoon felt like it was nonsense, a small, insignificant and quite embarrassing detail, but, in a way, he couldn't stop himself from doing it; like a lucky charm, your initials decorated the various pages with a touch of magic, as if the letters designated for you blessed Namjoon's mind and all his work. “i know it doesn't make much sense, but i feel like it really helps me. at least it always gives me strength when i see your initials in my art.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who gives you a bouquet of flowers every monday, even when he's on tour. Namjoon wanted to make sure you had a good week, he wanted to motivate you to get through five more days of intense work and complex people; so, he came up with a simple solution that, in addition to filling your living room with sweet smells of passion and longing, also brought with it bright colors that painted the gray days that could lie ahead. “i hope you have a good day today. don't forget that the world only makes sense because you are in it. i love you.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who goes on sunset walks with you. if when you were dating the two of you shared the sunrise on a bicycle, now in your marriage your attention has turned to the sunset, as if a natural representation of your love — at sunrise your love was still blooming, but now, already together with promises and vows of eternity, your love was based on a sea of reds and oranges that forever warmed your hearts. “i feel so complete with you. i still can't believe we're actually married. you just make my life better.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who takes you on surprise dates. it wasn't because you were married that Namjoon was going to stop dating you; without telling you, or simply spontaneously, Namjoon would take you to dinners or aquarium, ceramics classes or evening picnics, the possibilities seemed endless and Namjoon swore to you that he would explore each one of them with you. “just because we’re married doesn’t mean the romance is over. i hope you know that i will take you on dates even if we are eighty and use canes.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who swore an eternity of love for you. in any adversity, Namjoon promised you that your love would not weaken; in any opportunity, Namjoon promised you that your love would only grow; in any future, Namjoon promised you that your love would never end, for you were chosen by the stars, blessed by the gods — there was nothing that could ruin your love. “the dust of the universe are crumbs of our love that could not fit into our hearts in this life.”

[neithoftheveil]

Neith’s TGCF Fic Recs:

I’ve never made a rec list before, but for Christmas, I wanted to share some (not all—by god, we’d be here forever) of the fics saved to my kindle, some of my bookmarks, and some of my friends’ works (with overlap between those categories).

In no particular order:

tell you every day by scrapimmortal

Adorable amnesia Wulian oneshot that makes me smile.

melt (i’d tell them; put me back in it) by scrapimmortal

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve read this, I would have many dollars; perfection.

The flap of a butterfly’s wing by Ameji

Really enjoyed the political and personal drama in this one. A fun, exciting read that got me thinking about how to approach my own fics.

Pig in the Garden by illuminatingsceadugunga

I love FengQing’s heads exploding over hualian being married pre-third ascension; it’s delightful—very fun fic!

The Supplicant by ardenrabbit

The anticipation in chapter 1 was literally killing me; so excited to see more!

Land of the Callous by starvingwritist

A very fun, well-constructed truth serum Xianle quartet fic; Hualian are perfect for each other, truly. Couldn’t wait to see what would go wrong (and right)!

Heaven is Overwhelming by crispytaco

I love selective mutism fics; this one is very sweet! Comfort read.

there’s no rush by miska_za

Very sweet marathon sex; another comfort read.

quiet like stains by haysel

This soulmate AU has permanently altered my brain. It’s my favorite modern AU.

and the rain won’t make any difference by haysel

The atmosphere and the emotion? Out of this world. Love at first sight that takes your breath away. So sweet.

Your Courage, Your Despair by boomchick

I think about this fic at least once a week. Hualian hurt/comfort is my favorite thing.

‘Til our compass stands still by edenwolfie

Cannot watch the s2 opening of the donghua without getting nostalgia for this fic. Love the OCs. Love the characterization of XL. I would live in this fic if I could.

The Road I Walked Alone by aewea

Gives me literal chills every time (love it). What would happen if the play at the Mid-Autumn Banquet was actually the 100 swords scene.

We Stan Scrap Gege! by paidsubscription

Couldn’t stop laughing and smiling. Love this author’s AUs. Always so well thought out. And the “ghost citizens” are amazingly written!

The southern guide to a happy marriage by illuminate

The way this author writes Mu Qing makes me feral. FengQing get married before Xie Lian ascends a third time. It’s horny. It’s fun.

I can feel your halo by illuminate

Probably my favorite fengqing fanfic; I’ve read it a dozen times! Mu Qing’s spiritual powers are stolen, and he takes full advantage of them being gone to fulfill some long-buried desires.

common love isn’t for us by nobirdstofly

A really fun, dynamic piece that plays with FengQing’s deputy disguises. Hot too!

I Want to Ki** You by tyelperintal

I love every interaction Xie Lian and Mu Qing have in this piece, especially when XL gives way too many details about his sex life in order to help MQ navigate his desire for FX.

Wu Ming Loving Hours by featherpoet

A cute and inventive what-if. A canon divergence from Wuming’s death.

When I Was Older by corduroyserpent

An emotional time travel fic I love. Read it twice. Plan to reread soon!

Nameless Longing by corduroyserpent

A follow-up to the above fic; the “good boy” lives rent free in my brain. A roleplay Wulian fic with a twist ending.

Against All Odds by yuushoku

A really sweet royalty AU where Hua Cheng has to pass three trials to wed Xie Lian. Comfort read.

bring a light by uraa

A cute wangxian/hualian crossover!

charcoal daydreams by beesinspades

One of the first fics I read for this fandom! The first tgcf fic I ever downloaded! Artist HC runs into his old crush when XL applies to be his model.

steady love (in a place we know) by beesinspades

Hurts my heart but in a good way; it’s like missing someone who’s right in front of you. Hualian go on a road trip.

Is he, you know, a follower of Ju Yang? by airawyn

Very cute! Love the fengqing dynamic and banter!

Your Touch Means Everything to Me by fayleen

Love the tension in this one! A canon-divergent first kiss after the Banyue arc.

The State of You by peppaspray

Hot and sweet! Hua Cheng trying to seduce his husband in different forms.

to be seen by blessinglanterns

An interesting look at Hua Cheng coming back from being dispersed on Tonglu. Very sweet.

If you love me for me by fullmetalpotterhead

A really adorable royalty AU where Hua Cheng needs to marry Xie Lian for political reasons but quickly falls in love with him after he disguises himself in order to meet XL before their wedding.

[semisgroupie]

SINS OF THE FLESH

priest!nanami kento x fem. reader x priest!toji fushiguro

wc: 3.0k

warnings: sacrilegious, virginity loss, threesome (mmf), oral sex (m! and f!receiving), corruption kink, manipulation, blasphemy, lots of religious undertones, unprotected sex, creampie, Toji and nanami are so filthy here (it’s so sexy), reader is very naive and innocent (perfect prey), reciting of prayers during sexual acts, praise, slight manhandling

synopsis: it’s not a sin if you lose your virginity to two hot priests in a church right?

a/n: this is for my what’s done in the dark collab! and a lil belated birthday gift to myself!!

“Through him, with him, in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, almighty Father, forever and ever.”

A unified Amen filled the entire room then people stood to line up, waiting to receive the small wafer and a sip of the wine dubbed the blood of Christ. You helped the elderly man seated next to you stand then walked behind him to join the line. You looked around at the familiar faces and sighed happily to yourself before making eye contact with the two men wearing cassocks, Father Kento and Father Toji.

You have always been involved with the church, your earliest memories were filled with the church. So, it was only natural for you to start attending your local church when you moved. That was when you first met Father Kento, he greeted you with open arms and a warm smile. It was easy for you to adjust to the new environment and then about a few months later a new priest in training joined the church, Father Toji. It was interesting to see how the two men interacted with each other when they were seemingly polar opposites. But what you weren’t aware of was what the two men had in common.

An insatiable urge to corrupt an innocent parishioner and both men had their eyes on you.

You were the perfect church girl and they knew how to get you right in their bed and between them. They knew you were the type to save yourself until marriage but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t drift you away from your original, innocent plans. Especially if they convinced you that, that’s what God wanted for you.

Being priests they had the gift of gab. That only meant it wouldn’t take much to convince someone as trusting as you to do what they needed you to do.

Each man stood at either end of the table, Nanami held the chalice with the wine inside and Toji started giving out the wafers. Each person went one after another and received their own blessing and finally it was your turn. You stood in front of Father Nanami and he brought the chalice to your lips and you took a small sip before pulling back. “Thank you Father Kento.” He smiled and leaned in, “you know you haven’t been to confession in almost a month, after mass you’ll go with me and Father Toji, okay?”

You nodded at his words and offered him another smile before moving to Father Toji. You watched how he placed the sacramental bread in others hands so they can place it into their mouths but when it was your turn, he ignored your cupped hands and tapped the wafer against your lips. “Open up, you know the deal.” He let out a low chuckle as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out slightly. Fuck you looked perfect like that, so innocent, so malleable, he could just take you in front of all the other parishioners but he had to be patient. He placed the small wafer on your tongue and pulled his hand back, “thank you Father Toji.” He nodded and watched as you got up and walked back to your seat.

The mass continued and everything happened so quickly. Both men couldn’t keep their thoughts straight, for you have infiltrated them so easily.

“May almighty God bless you, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Toji lifted his hand to the crowd and moved it in the shape of a cross as Nanami started the ending of mass. Another unified Amen filled the room and Nanami finished with the concluding words, “The Mass is ended, go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

“Thanks be to God.” Everyone started getting up and thanked the two men for a wonderful mass while you stood behind. There was no real reason why you hadn’t gone to confession, there was nothing you had to confess. You hadn’t sinned, well maybe some things here and there but nothing that would warrant a confession. You moved your hands down to play with the hem of your dress as you consumed yourself in your thoughts.

Both men approached you and stood at either side of you while you continued to toy with your dress. Toji leaned down to your ear and placed a hand on your shoulder, “come now sweetheart. We’ll be doing things a little different today, you’ll be confession to both Father Kento and myself.” You jumped a little at the deep rumble of his voice and nodded at his words, too naive and trusting for your own good.

He held out his hand to you and you took it without hesitation. He continued to hold onto it while Nanami followed behind you both, itching to get his hands on you. The walk was filled with light small talk as the men led you to a more private area, their quarters.

You looked around the room and turned to look at them, slightly dumbfounded. “Why are we here? Don’t we normally do our confessions in the confessional booth?” God, you looked so cute. A slight pout on your lips as you looked up at the two men while your hands went back to the hem of your dress. Toji spoke first and placed a hand on your shoulder, “yes but it’s currently being fixed, so we just decided to take you here if that’s okay with you?”

You looked up at the raven haired male and nodded, your gaze drifting momentarily to his scar before meeting his eyes. “Good, now sit.” Nanami pulled out two chairs and put them back to back, he led you to sit down on one while Toji sat on the other. “What about you, Father Kento? Don’t you need a seat?”

He shook his head and smiled at you, “Father Toji is the one you’re confessing to, I’m just here to make sure everything goes smoothly.” He sat down on the desk in front of you and nodded his head, “go on and start.”

You sucked in a small breath and started, “bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was two weeks ago. These are my sins, I have succumbed to a sin of the flesh.” Heat rose to your cheeks and burned through your whole body as the sin you committed left your lips in a soft tone to reach the ears of the two deviants you were in a room with before reaching God’s ears. Both men perked up and raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, please elaborate further on that. God cannot forgive you for your sin if you don’t explain it in its entirety.” You played with the hem of your dress more as Toji’s raspy voice reverberated throughout the room.

“I have touched myself in a sinful way, Father.” You kept your eyes down at your hands, if the world swallowed you whole in this moment you would be thankful. Toji turned his head to look at Nanami and nodded. Nanami stood up and took a few steps over to you and knelt down. He placed one of his hands on your knee while the other went on top of your fidgeting hands. “Darling, you can’t just stop in the middle of a confession. Do you mind if I help you?” You tore your gaze away from your dress and met his warm eyes, you nodded slowly and he smiled. He moved his hand from your hands and moved it to the other knee. You watched closely as he started pushing them apart and you instinctively tried to keep your legs closed. The issue is, he was much stronger than you so he easily overpowered you and kept your legs spread.

“Don’t you want God to forgive you for your sins? If you don’t let me do this then God can’t forgive you and you can’t truly repent.” Your eyes widened at his words and you shook your head, “no, Father Kento I want to be forgiven, I want to repent for my sins!” He had to bite back a smirk and Toji moved so he could watch over your shoulder, you felt his hot breath at your ear and you turned your head quickly to face him.

“Just trust us. We’re just doing what God wants us to do okay?” He cooed softly at you and you nodded, both men knew it would be easy to get you to submit to their will but this was just easier than they expected. Toji hooked two fingers under your chin and lifted your head up as he leaned in close, “have you ever kissed a man before?” Your cheeks burned as you peered into his eyes and you shook your head, “no, Father Toji.”

“Good girl.” With that he closed the remaining gap between you both and kissed you softly, you whimpered against his lips and gripped the arms of the chair you were sitting in tightly. His lips against yours felt like nothing you’ve imagined before and as he deepened the kiss you felt the same burning in your belly whenever you touched yourself.

Now that you were distracted, Nanami lifted up your dress so it scrunched up at your hips and let out a low groan at the sight of your panties, white to represent your innocence that was soon to be tainted by the two men you were with. He moved one hand up your thigh and started rubbing gentle circles on your clit over your panties. You instantly arched your back and gasped against Toji’s lips, “so reactive, little angel.” Nanami mumbled before pressing his thumb against the growing wet spot on your panties and then hooked two fingers under them and pulled them to the side.

Your pussy looked perfect, your swollen clit and your pretty virgin hole clenched around nothing. He adjusted his position and leaned in close, taking in a deep breath. Fuck, you even smelled sweet. He pressed gentle kisses along your lower lips and kissed your clit. You gripped the arms of the chair tighter and whined against Toji’s lips once Nanami took your pussy into his mouth. Toji broke the kiss and looked down at Nanami, chuckling at how disheveled you looked. Your kiss swollen lips were parted ever so slightly and your eyes drifted between the two men.

Toji disrobed and your eyes widened as you saw his muscles once he took his cassock and shirt off. They flexed and tensed with the most subtle movements and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Then your eyes traveled down his body and saw his bulge, he seemed like he was about to burst through his pants. “Enjoying the view, sweetheart? Tell me, when you touch yourself do you think about me and Father Kento? Because I have a little confession for you,” he leaned in close to your ear while you moaned and whined due to Nanami’s tongue exploring your pussy like a man who hasn’t had a drink in days. “Father Kento and I have had filthy thoughts about you, thoughts that would make even the devil blush.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words, there’s no way they could be true, right?

These men are supposed to be the definition of holiness, they’re not supposed to succumb to sin. They’re held at a higher tier due to their devotion to faith, you look up to priests and the clergy as an example of how you’re supposed to live your life. But to know that they’re just as depraved as you are excites you.

You moved one hand down from the arm of the chair to Nanami’s hair and messed up the perfectly styled golden locks as he suckled on your clit. Your mouth fell agape as he continued his actions and Toji took advantage of the position you were in. He gripped your chin and turned your head so you could face him but this time he was completely undressed, revealing his throbbing cock. Your mind started racing but the big question that circled around in your haze filled mind was how would he be able to fit it inside your mouth? There was no way you could open your mouth that wide but you couldn’t dwell on the question for long. He moved one of his large hands behind your head and pushed you closer until the tip laid along your tongue. “You just need to suction your mouth like you’re sucking on one of those cherry lollipops you love to have right after mass and I’ll do the rest of the work.”

So you did exactly as he said, you wrapped your lips around the bulbous head and he started moving his hips, thrusting shallowly to let you adjust to his size but the way you were whimpering and moaning around his cock made it extremely difficult to go slow. Nanami moved one hand from your knee and brought it to your entrance, now coated in his saliva and your juices and slipped one finger inside you. The feeling was overwhelming, he pumped his finger slowly then started picking up the pace as he sucked on your clit harder. Just as he picked up the pace of his finger, Toji picked up the pace of his hips. Guttural and borderline animalistic groans left his scarred lips as he forced you to take his cock entirely down your throat. You gagged each time his balls touched your chin and tears freely spilled down your face but it just turned you on even more.

Nanami’s cock throbbed as he looked up at you, you were taking a cock that was entirely too big for you almost with ease and he just had to have you. He slipped a second finger inside you and started pumping them quickly, the squelching of your pussy almost felt too loud and your legs started shaking at the rough pace. Before you knew it, the coil inside your belly snapped and your pussy clenched around his fingers tightly as your orgasm washed over you. Toji pulled out of your mouth so you could catch your breath and Nanami pulled away from you. “Let’s bring her to the bed and put her on all fours.” Nanami spoke as he undressed and Toji scooped you up from the chair with ease and brought you to the cot in the room, he put you on your hands and knees and sat down in front of you, his cock still standing proud while the tip leaked even more precum.

Once Nanami was fully undressed he joined you two on the cot and moved behind you. He pressed his cock against your slit and dragged it through your folds to collect the mix of his spit and your juices on it. “Just take a deep breath, this will hurt but it’ll feel good very soon.” With that he lined up with your entrance and started slowly pushing in, “oh Christ, if this is what heaven feels like then I never want to leave.” He groaned and continued pushing in slowly, tears pricked at your eyes and you stretched your arms out to hold onto Toji’s thighs. “You poor thing,” Toji cooed and moved one hand to caress your cheek and wiped at your eyes, “you’re doing so good, just doing what the Lord needs of you.”

His hips slowly started to move faster and snapped against yours. Toji guided his cock back into your mouth and started thrusting up, both men using you. Nanami gripped your hips tighter and leaned down, “remember you still need to repent for your sins. So I need you to repeat after me, this is Corinthians 7:10.” He snapped his hips into yours while Toji buried his cock in the back of your throat. “Father, when I sin, help me to not dwell in a worldly sort of sorrow that would lead to my death” he smirked as you tried to repeat the prayer while Toji’s cock was still in your mouth. “Grant me godly sorrow and the ability to recognize it.” He gave you another moment to try to repeat his words before continuing, “May it result in repentance that leads to deliverance and leaves no regret. Amen.” You repeated the final words of the prayer and let out a muffled Amen around Toji’s cock and the raven haired male groaned.

Both men started to move in sync, each time Nanami bottomed out so did Toji. Everything they did was mind numbing and all you could do was moan and hold onto Toji’s thighs. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold off your orgasm much longer, it was already quickly approaching. The way Nanami’s cock explored your walls was like his cock was made to be inside you. Nanami gripped your hips tighter and threw his head back as you clenched around his cock tighter. He angled his hips and hit that spongy spot inside, instantly making you cum. You let out a muffled cry around Toji’s cock as your orgasm took over you. Both men groaned and Nanami’s orgasm washed over him first, he pressed his hips firmly against yours as he coated your virgin walls with cum then Toji held your head down as he came deep down your throat.

You dug your nails into his thighs and he pulled you off once he was done. You panted and looked up at him as your tongue stuck out slightly, some remnants of his cum coated the pink muscle. You swallowed and Nanami slowly pulled out of you, allowing you to slump against the cot completely. “Thank you Father Toji, thank you Father Kento.” Your voice was raspy from the face fucking you received and both men pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You did very well but there is still more you need to do to be fully forgiven. What do you say about having confessions like these every week after mass and after Bible study?” Toji spoke and gently caressed your cheek while Nanami covered your body with a blanket. You looked up at both men with half lidded eyes and nodded, “if that’s what God wants from me then I’ll do it.”

Nanami and Toji sported the same smirk and nodded. “You’re the perfect child of God, now get some rest.” Nanami whispered and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

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[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

M!troll x f!reader

1.35k words

Both a light in the darkness and the last person you wanted to see now, once more you were with Zen'jan. While relieved at your rescue anger and fear still had their grip on your after seeing what he was capable of.

--------

The smell of blood filled your nose, nearly making you gag, but under the heavy smell of iron there was also incense. You could barely keep your eyes open, but you could feel that you were being carried. Looking up you saw a familiar silhouette in the darkness.

Desperately you wanted to yell at him, to scream why did he not say anything about following the god of shadows. To scream at him for tricking you into visiting his shrine. To scream at him to put you down now. But you could not.

You were tired, your head still throbbing, severely dehydrated, and still in a state of shock. You were thankful for the rescue, but it did not change that you were still angry with him, that you no longer trusted him.

The edges of your vision began to fade to black again, too exhausted to keep awake.

There was firm ground beneath you this time when you awoke. Zen’jan was clutching you against his chest while you were curled on his lap, sitting so your side was pressed against him, his tusks brushing against your face.

He was muttering something over and over again in his language, almost pleading sounding.

You stirred a bit and looked up to see his eyes squeezed shut while he continued his prayers, though not for long as your movements alerted him to the fact you were awake.

“I am so sorry” he wrapped his arms around you tightly though you quickly pulled away. “I deserved that” he sadly added.

He just looked broken, his shoulders slumped forward and head bowed, barely able to look at you.

“Are you hurt? Did they touch you?” he asked.

You did not answer, your voice was lost in your throat and now the chill of the night was setting in.

“Please, please come closer, you are shivering” he pleaded with you.

Reluctantly you leaned back against him and he wrapped his arms back around you, he was so warm.

“I am sorry I hid the truth from you” he began, “I was scared after you told me about the Light, I was scared that no matter what I did that one day you would know who I followed and hate me, or fear me.

“I saw how you looked at me on that first day, the fear in your eyes just when I reached out to you, it snapped me out of my own annoyance and panic. I did not want to ever be someone you feared, I did everything I could think of to make you feel safe, I never tried to touch you even on accident, I slept on the floor, I always tried to sit down around you so I did not tower over you. And it seemed to help. You started talking to me more, you stopped flinching when I moved.

“I thought that maybe if we were closer, maybe you would trust me and I could tell you. I knew you would be apprehensive, but maybe you would trust me enough to listen. But I ruined that”.

You felt him trembling too, but not from the cold. His voice wavered while he spoke, nearly choking on his own words.

“How did you find me?” you asked.

“Tsov’ka. You bear his blessing, as long as you are in the shadows he can find you, he first tracked you sitting in the shade of a tree, then later at the camp when night fell”.

The thought of that made your skin crawl, though it had saved you.

“When you ran from the shrines I thought it was best to give you space, let you calm down. I left a little after you and looked for you at home. When you were not there I went to Bira to ask if you were with her, but you were not there either. I started to look around the city anywhere I could think of, I asked every guard or shopkeeper I saw if they saw you until someone said they saw you leave the city.

“My heart sank, do you know how dangerous it can be out here?”

“I’ve come out here with Bira before” you pushed back.

“And Bira knows the area and would not have taken you this far. But way out here? There’s bandits! Gnolls! All sorts that would want to hurt you!”

You could hear the panic in his voice.

“I saw what you did” you told him.

He froze, his limbs stiffening up around you, “How much did you see?”

“Once it was quiet I peeked under the tent, I didn’t know it was you then, but I saw what was left”. It was brutal, not quick kills, people torn to ribbons and beyond recognizable.

“You were not supposed to see that” he sounded scared, “It was not supposed to be like that. I was just going to get you from the tent, it was supposed to be quick and easy, gone before anyone noticed I was there. But I heard them talk about you, what they planned on doing…” he trailed off.

“When I saw that humans from your kingdom found you I almost left, I thought that you would be better off if they took you home. That you could go back to your family and be away from me. That maybe one day you could find someone you loved and you could be happy” he sounded crushed, absolutely just shattered, and part of you felt bad for him.

“When I heard them talking though, I- I just- Tsov’ka offered me his gift, and I accepted. Even during the war I rarely accepted his power like that. Being a god’s avatar is not something to take lightly, to take his form, to weird his strength. I let my fear and anger guide me, and I did not stop until Tsov’ka made me.

“I know you already fear me, but I do not want to lie to you ever again, even if it means seeing me for who I am”.

You knew he had fought in the war, that he was regarded as war hero, but it often slipped your mind. He had always been so gentle and calm around you, doting on you and taking care of you, this was an intense reminder that he was not just a civilian.

“I do not expect you to stay with me, and I will not hold you against your will, ever. I will find a way to get you home to your kingdom. Bira knows a lot of traders and human outposts outside of your kingdom, she will know how to get you home”.

A few drops landed on your face and you looked up at him to see several large tears roll down his cheeks. His breath was heaving and shuddering as he held you.

You saw him for what he was then: scared. The fight you had on the first morning was because he was scared to go home and face you, so he left you alone there. He did not tell you the truth about all his gods because he was scared you would hate and fear him. He brutalized the bandit camp when he was scared for your safety and treatment. And now he was scared of losing you.

Knowing that fear drove him made his actions more understandable, though you did not know how much you could forgive, or if you could ignore what he was capable of. But at least knowing what drove him reminded you that he was a good person too, that he was kind and gentle, just very scared under it all.

You leaned your weight against him more, fully just melting into his embrace. Your kingdom and father were willing to have you killed to restart this war, returning to your kingdom was not an option, though Zen’jan did not seem to realize this. But here at least you had someone who cared about you enough to be scared of loosing you.

“Zen?” you asked, “Can you just take me to our home?”

His arms tightened around you, “Anything”.

Part 9

[rtfics]

That glare & Beej showing his love for Lydia.

In the counseling office Lydia says Beej's name once, so he screeches ( a' la the original movie) and binds her mouth. Her expression isn't one of fear or terror -- unlike Rory -- but of "Oh god, seriously, you're pulling this on me again, I could slap you, you jerk" that you have with someone you know well and who can irritate the fuck out of you, but you still want him around.

unmute

Later, Lydia rips off the stitches, proving that her lips weren't actually sewn shut, but the stitches were more like duct tape. Beej didn't do anything that would really cause her pain. And, more importantly, she has the power to defeat his power.

Beetlejuice grants Lydia autonomy over his admittedly massive powers. She apparently doesn't realize this yet -- she's pissed at him for the moment.

But, if this storyline follows logically, Lydia should eventually see Beetlejuice could pretty much force her to do anything, if he wanted. She should, I hope, notice that, as obnoxious and arrogant as he is, he gives her the choice in so many things.

In the counseling session he shuts up her just long enough to show what a coward Rory is -- he knows she'd interrupt. He shows how Rory refused to listen to what Lydia said about not saying Beej's name in order to force her to face her supposed delusion. If Lydia were paying attention she'd see Rory treats her as an inferior, that he thinks he knows what's best for her, that she isn't mature or clear-headed and therefore he needs to control her. Beetlejuice shows Lydia, not tells, that she can handle the strange and unusual and gross, but Rory has no stomach, or spine, for it. When Beej says "C'mere" to Lydia and draws her to him, he doesn't stop her from snapping "Home home home!" and leaving, which we can be pretty sure he could do.

He shows, not tells, Lydia what a lying, conning bastard Rory has been all along, and merely asks -- doesn't tell -- if she'd like to do something about it, and provides her with an aid -- the boxing glove -- to express her feelings.

My personal theory is Beetlejuice needs Lydia to decide for herself whether she warms to him or not. Twice he's made a deal with her and held up his end. Twice Lydia has broken her side of the bargain. But in neither case has he used his power to punish her for it. He stepped aside and helped her reconnect with her dead husband by going to "th' lil' Boys Room." He saved Astrid, not only from the Netherworld but from Jeremy. He saved Lydia from a bad marriage to a user who didn't love her. And, peripherally, he saved her from a life lost in a pill-popping fog, a life Rory kept her in as "an enabler" -- which Beej pointed out in the counseling session.

Sooner or later, Lydia should realize all this. Beetlejuice not shoving it in her face -- "HEY! I saver yer life an' yer daughter's life an' this is the thanks I get?!" -- shows he wants Lydia to come to this on her own, in her own time.

I mean, shit, what potential lover/boyfriend/husband does this?

Once her anger at her life suddenly being up-ended fades, Lydia, being an intelligent woman now free of mind-numbing drugs, should awaken to the strange fact that Beetlejuice has actually been doing things in her interest more than in his.

[kadwrites]

young love | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; a person from your past makes an appearance.

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope , fem!reader , idk what the hell is happening , SLOW burn

a/n ; i promise that i have a plot but i keep getting side tracked????

-

"what the fuck are ya doing here?" you pull the front door shut

"hello to ya too."

you look at him again , brows raised "what brought ya here hmm?"

"ya didn't even invite me to your engagement party." he looks down at you, his voice teasing

"oh i'm sorry" you let out a small outraged laugh "i didn't know that inviting your ex boyfriend was an engagement tradition."

"aren't ya glad to see me?" he gives you a sly smile

"what brought ya here?" you grit your teeth , looking up at him

"i came here for ya."

"for me?"

"to save ya."

"from what?" your patience is thinning

"well i couldn't let ya get married to someone like 'im could i?" he chuckles "not after the love we had for eachother."

"jeremy." you pinch the bridge of your nose "that was years ago," you try to not raise your voice "do ya even know who i'm marrying?"

"oh i do."

"ya do?" you laugh "and ya thought trying to convince his fiancée to run away is a good idea?"

"you're making a mistake."

you just look up at him, laughing. "jeremy, ya slept with your sister in law, i don't think you're qualified to give me any kind of guidance."

"i'm a changed man" he leans down to whisper to you

"no you're not!" you let out an angry breath , trying to compose yourself "what do ya think tommy shelby would do if he found out you're here? hmm?" you hiss at him

"i love ya." he looks at you, his eyes bore into yours , inching closer

"oh my god" you put a hand over your face, turning,

"i do, i can't let ya go" he hand touches your arm

"oh my fucking god!" your voice becomes high pitched , your eyes opened wide "why are ya still talking? do ya want to get killed?" you whisper angrily, keeping your voice down

"i can't let ya do this" he begs , he pleads

"yes ya can, ya just walk away" your hands wave at the door

"did ya not hear what 'appened to his first wife?" his nostrils flare in frustration

your jaw slacks , you feel as if your eyes would bulge out of their sockets

"do ya know what would 'appen to ya if he heard ya say this?" your voice is low.

he closes his eyes, licking his lips before speaking "look..."

"no" you raise a hand , stopping him before he could get another word in "i don't particularly like ya, but i'm telling ya this as a favor for old times sake" you point at the door "leave , and never come back"

"i'm not leaving ya."

"this isn't a joke, jeremy" you can't help the angry chuckles that keep coming out of you "this is probably the stupidest decision you've ever made."

"do ya want to marry 'im?" his eyes scan your face, studying you

"this is none of your concern." infuriated wouldn't even begin to describe what you felt, "what i do with my life is none of your fucking concern"

"i know ya , this is not something ya would do."

"ya said it yourself, you're a changed man now" you try to explain, "we're different, ya and i are so different now, we are not the same kids we used to be. this isn't what it used to be."

he doesn't say anything else in return, he walks out, shutting the door loudly behind him

you have a hand over your forehead , pacing around the living room, renee is still in her place, watching.

"you brought him here didn't you?" your mother stood in the living room with her hand on her hips, looking you up and down

"mum ... please stop." you stop in your tracks , frustrated "how would i bring 'im here? with telekinesis? i didn't even know he still lives in birmingham for fuck's sake."

she comes closer , gabbing your shoulders "we need to forget this, never speak of it in front of tommy"

"what if he comes back again?" you start to panic "what if he does something worse than this?"

she closes her eyes at the possibility, she doesn't answer.

"this is just what i fucking needed" you turn, plopping down on the sofa

"jeremy is a sweet boy... he wouldn't do anything, would he?" your mum picks at her cuticles nervously ,

you look up with a raised brow "he fucked his brother's wife while we were dating, his brother who by the way raised 'im." you rub at your temple "his moral compass is as useless as that brain of his."

"god, now i know why i always hated him."

"and yet ya wanted us to get married at 17."

"well i didn't want him to knock you up."

"so ya tried to talk me into marrying 'im?" your mother's logic made your head spin faster than it already was "ya know what, forget i asked that" you wave a hand

"what are ya going to do now?" renee finally speaks,

you and your mother look at each other, before looking at renee

"i don't know.." you mumble "i 'ave to go see 'im today, to talk about the wedding venues" you groan, the stress of it all comes back to her

"okay" renee gets up, and sits next to you "ya just act normal, ya get this done, ya forget about it for today and then tomorrow ya try thinking about solutions."

you smile when you step into his office, your hands clasped in front of you, and he's on his chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"why do ya look like that?"

"like what?"

"ya're too happy to see me."

you raise a brow "ya don't want me smiling at ya?"

"ya look possessed." he deadpanned, exhaling a cloud of smoke, his thumb scratching lightly at his lips, hiding his smile

you kiss your teeth, "i hope ya choke in your sleep." you walk up the chair and sit down

he chuckles, looking at you with his head tilted slightly "you'll miss me?"

"believe me , i won't."

"what's wrong?"

your brows pinch together "nothing is wrong"

"really?"

"yes."

"you're a very bad liar."

"i'm just ... tired" you shrugged, your voice squeaked

it's not that you're not used to lying, it's that you have a hard time lying to him

"how's your mum?"

a genuine amused smile pains over your lips, "she's good"

"who told ya?" he nods at you

"who told me what?"

"that i talked with your mother" he continues "was it your two nosy friends?"

"hey hey hey" you put a hand up "don't insult my friends"

"they are nosy, it's the truth"

-

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[prettyboypistol]

LoTR Fellowship Proposing! (GN!Reader)

Frodo

oh bless him, he's scared half to death you'll say no.

he starts the event off with thousands of butterfly kisses and monologues of how much he loves you- he's not subtle on how he fumbles with something in his pockets.

Sam

A lot more straightforward, albeit also nervous as hell about if you'll like the proposal rather than if you'll say no- he knows you'll say yes. you two have been together for ages and discussed marriage!

Cooks you the best meal you've ever had before proposing to you under the moonlight

Merry

He never thought this day would come, to be honest. He thought he'd be a forever bachelor- a playboy, if you will. You changed everything, though.

Merry asks Pippin for tons of help, hell, he even goes to Aragorn and Boromir about how to propose to you properly! He's so worried he's gonna screw it up!

Pippin

This cutie patootie accidentally proposes to you before he means to. One day you smile at him in the perfect lighting and he just blurts out "Please marry me!"

Absolutely mortified that he doesn't have a ring for you, but saves up to get you the prettiest one that matches your eyes.

Aragorn

Internally mulling over proposing ever since you two got together- he wants to desperately, but would it last? He's going to outlive you my centuries!

Despite his fears and worries, his love prevails. Falling to both his knees, he whispers in sweet pleas and begs to spend as much time as he can as your husband.

Boromir

He's the far more traditional type, dinner, a long stroll, and a pretty speech prepared for you- but he gets so transfixed on the way your beauty that he fumbles. HARD.

Bless him, he's precious and you love him.

Gimli

Dwarvishly traditional to a fault. He'd start off the evening with a warm bath drawn for you, then braids your hair all pretty when he ties the end of your hair with a proposal bead he made.

He showed you a tattoo he got in your name, a poem that sings the praises of a brave and strong soldier.

Legolas

God this loser is a total boyfailure. Compared to your natural poise, he feels a need to propose in the way only an elven prince can.

He gives you a crown of silver and adores your in delicate jewels as he calls you his lover, his forever partner, and perhaps... his future spouse?