#I’ve been to and in both of these places and I cannot wrap my head around what I see now.

[luxurybrownbarbie]

I’m going to be honest with you. I’m not sure how we mentally, physically, emotionally, or spiritually move forward after witnessing genocide and collective punishment occur in real time like this. I don’t think we’ll ever forget the powerlessness we feel, the pain, the anger, the sadness. I don’t think anyone will ever be the same, nor should we be.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats

Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

“I can’t be ‘Aegon the Magnanimous.’ No one knows what Magnanimous means.” Aegon drawls, slumped over in his throne. The hour is late and there are many places he’d rather be. Namely with his beloved wife, who he’s scarcely seen, since taking on his duties. Their children will already be asleep, but if they wrap things up here soon, he may have a few moments with Y/N before bed.

“Aegon the dragon cock.” One of the piss drunk men raises his cup to the king.

“That’s more like it,” Aegon claps his hands together.

The men hoot and holler at the name. Dissolving into laughter.

“Speaking of,” Aegon rises to his feet, “I must get back to my wife. I did not wed her to admire from afar.” Aegon tosses back the remainder of his wine, throwing his gauntlet down beside the throne. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

He wastes no time, taking the stairs two at a time up to his chambers. His queen is already abed, waiting up for him with a bit of light reading. “What story is that now, my dearest love?” Aegon asks, pulling off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.” Y/N bends it open at the spine, setting the bound pages on the bedside table.

“Seems a bit morbid.” Aegon frowns, “especially in these times, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do you have something better in mind, your grace?”

Aegon doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “You are my equal, here of all places. Don’t do this to me, please. Do not ice me out, I cannot bear it.”

Y/N sighs, crossing both arms over her chest. “Helaena is frightened of the rats. I’ve been looking into their behaviors and customs.”

Aegon flops onto the mattress, unceremoniously. “The rats?”

Y/N nods, “to be honest, I’m not particularly fond of them either. Although, they are interesting.”

“No vermin shall touch you so long as I live, darling girl. The only thing nibbling your toes will be me.” He wiggles his foot against hers for emphasis.

Y/N huffs a laugh. Allowing the silence between them to hang heavy.

“I am sorry about your brother.” Aegon says, despite ordering his own brother, Aemond, away at the news and holding her through sobs, he’s yet to say the words. “I cannot stand your suffering. It’s made it nearly impossible to be away from you to perform my duties.”

Y/N brings his hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles.

“I want you to attend the petitions,” he decides. “At my side, in my lap, seated directly on my cock; whatever suits you.”

“Directly on your cock?” Y/N chortles, “your mother would have my head.”

“She will do no such thing, you are queen. You may do as you wish.”

“You spoil me,” that’s what everyone says anyway.

“You’re mine to spoil. They’re jealous is all.”

“Shall we practice then? For the hearings?”

“If you wish.” Aegon rolls onto his back, sliding both arms behind his head.

Y/N grins, devilishly as she slides off his clothes, allowing his cock to spring free. Her own nightgown and small clothes follow before she swings a leg over his hips and slides down his length.

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

His wife leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“A tenth of my flock has been taken, your grace.” Aegon tells her, repeating one of the smallfolk’s concerns.

“Your what?” Y/N blinks at him.

“Sheep,” he continues, “a tenth of them gone, taken by your guard, just before winter. What say you, my queen?”

“Give them back.” Y/N sighs as his hands finally land on her hips, guiding her movements.

“That’s what I said,” Aegon hums, thrusting up to meet her.

“Did they listen?”

“No.” Aegon purses his lips, “they might need them to feed the dragons.”

“It’s much harder to concentrate this way, my king.”

“I know,” he coos, “but you’re doing so well.”

“The dragons,” Y/N pants, “have never required sheep from the smallfolk before.”

“We have never been to war.” Aegon says, through gritted teeth as she clenches around him.

“My mother will want revenge for Lucerys.”

“And I want this matter resolved peacefully.” Aegon assures her, “still I cannot give my brother up for the slaughter.”

“I don’t see how this can end peacefully now,” Y/N laments, feeling the coil in her belly tighten. “It will end in fire and blood.”

“What would you have me do?”

Y/N shakes her head, “We must stop Aemond from claiming Harrenhal at the least.”

“Consider it done.” Aegon beckons her down for a kiss.

The clatter of metal against the floor breaks them apart, “what was that?” Y/N’s eyes search the room.

“Twas only the wind, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles up at his wife.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. “No. Something is wrong.”

“I agree,” Aegon takes her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to a taut peak. “You stopped moving.”

“Aegon,” she warns, “please.”

“Shhh,” he gentles her back to a steady grind. “I’m here. You are safe.”

Y/N offers a shaky smile. Still something seems amiss, though she can’t think much more about it with Aegon’s free hand toying with her pearl.

“Cum on my cock, then we will look into it, if you feel so inclined.”

Y/N nods, bouncing faster, harder. Trying to ignore the worry twisting at her gut.

Aegon’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you.”

“More than anyone or anything, save for our children. I want you to remember that…always.”

Y/N nods, feeling herself teetering on the precipice. “I-” she wants to say it back, only her brain doesn’t seem to be working.

“Hush, sweetheart.” Aegon groans, because he knows. Rubbing his fingers harshly against her pearl to push her over the edge. Shaking and crying her release as she milks his cock. “Good girl.” Aegon fills her pulsing cunt with his spend.

She leans toward her husband, capturing his lips as they ride out their high. Once she has caught her breath Y/N rolls away, off of the bed, shuffling back into her nightgown.

Aegon follows her lead, redressing in his tunic and trousers. “Head to the children’s room, wait for me there. I’ll have the guards help me search the floor for any sign of��rats.”

Y/N wrings her hands, knowing how silly it sounds. “Thank you, Aegon.”

He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to her forehead and cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He watches her leave the room before heading in the opposite direction. Where is everyone? The keep is never so quiet, even at night.

Y/N scampers down the hallway to the nursery, it takes a moment for her mind to make sense of the scene before her. Helaena with a knife held to her throat by a strange man. His counterpart hovering over the children’s beds with a blade at the ready.

“What are you doing?” Y/N breathes, clutching a hand to her chest.

The man holding Helaena shoves her aside.

Y/N catches the woman in her arms, smoothing down her white tresses. Helaena clings to her. “It’s ok.”

The children sleep better together, they always have. Besides the maids prefer Aegon and Y/N’s children close to Aemond and Helaena’s for practical reasons, until they are older.

“Which of them are yours?” The first man demands.

“All of them,” Y/N lies. “All of them are mine.”

“You have but four children,” Cheese insists. “Here lie six, tell me which are yours and I will spare them.”

“If I don’t tell you and you’re wrong, my mother will have your head.” Y/N clenches her jaw. “For all I know of our true queen, this was not her request. So who’s was it?”

“A son for a son, that’s what’s fair.” Blood insists.

“What did they offer you? Gold?” Y/N wonders, “I’ll double it if you leave now.”

The men look to each other, undecided.

“Or you could take me instead. I’m worth more to my mother than any bounty.” Rhaenyra’s eldest child offers.

————————————————————————-

Aegon completes his sweep of their chambers, along with the rest of the royal floor. Nothing is amiss. He moves to the children’s quarters and finds Helaena, curled up on the floor. “What’s happened?”

Helaena takes her brother’s outstretched hand. “They wanted to kill the boy.”

The boy? “My boy?”

Helaena shakes her head, “mine.”

Aegon looks to his nephew, still sleeping soundly. “Where is Y/N?”

“They took her instead.”

“Where the hell is Cole?” Aegon demands. “Where in the seven hells is anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Helaena sobs.

Part 2

[mywritersmind]

hellooooooo! I read yell and flight and let me tell u I was HOOKED. I cannot get fran off my mind the way this man is!!! It’s driving me wild and it’s barely been abt a week or two seeing him all over my socials👩🏻‍🦯‍➡️ I was wondering if you are still taking reqs obviously for fran? I know deep down in my bones that this man is so clingy like physically so maybe like him hugging the reader a lot like alot all the time, like long cuddle sessions just talking abt life?

xxxxxxx thx in advance

SEVEN TIMES WHEN FRANCO COULDN'T KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF - FC43

listen up : no warnings just some kissing!! this is cute so i hope you enjoy <3 franco x girlfriend!reader

word count : 1249

⋆｡‧˚���

When I first started dating Franco, it was obvious that his love language was physical touch. Back then however, I didn’t know how much he depended on it.

⋆༺

1. I’ve never been more excited for Franco than I was at that first race in Monza. As soon as I could, I ran to him.

He was still in his race suit, grinning that stupid smile that I so love. He was sweaty and gross and I couldn’t be happier.

“Corazón…” He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder even as I jumped up and down.

“I’m so proud of you!” I pulled him tighter, his curls brushing my face. “That was so sick!” I pushed him back to move my hands while I spoke but his hand stayed on my waist.

He let me recount his own race back to him as he just stared at me dreamily, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He laughed and pulled me in again, kissing me this time.

People cheered and whistled as I smiled against Franco’s lips. He kept that same hand on me all day, holding me close as if the two hours he was racing for was time lost for us.

He never cared who was watching, as long as I was in his arms, nothing else mattered.

⋆༺

2. “Let’s stay here.” He mumbled into my skin, laying completely on top of me with his face on my stomach.

I laughed, running my hands through his hair, “We have to go Fran… You were the one who said we would!” He frowned up at me when I took my hands from his hair.

I slipped my hands back through his waves and he smiled happily again, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist.

I look at his arms flexing against me, “Darling…”

He frowned up at me again, making me laugh and having to physically push him off of me, “Ay no…” He groaned as I stood, smoothing out my skirt.

“Come on!” I had to walk out the door just to get Franco out of the room.

⋆༺

3. We were at a charity gala and I felt like a genuine magnet. A magnet that only attracts Franco's hands. I smirked at him, “Like what you see?” I spun around in my red dress that hit right before my black heels, his hands staying on me as I turned around.

His gaze dragged up my body, nodding silently. Franco is never silent. He gave my waist a little squeeze before kissing my cheek and pulling me into his side.

The whole night, the only time he left my side was when I went to the restroom. He was waiting with drinks when I got back, I can’t help but smile at his stupid face that looks way too happy to be buying things for me.

We ended up talking to Lando and his date, she was definitely a model and honestly I don’t know if he even knew her name. When the girl left, Lando eyed us both, “You’re making me look bad!” He ran his hand through his curls as I rested my head on Franco’s shoulder.

“Not my fault that you don’t like your date!” Franco argued and Lando pulled his lips into a thin line.

“I like her just fine! You two are just disgustingly affectionate.”

⋆༺

4. “I’m just having a hard time, Franco!” I sat on the couch, my head in my hands. We’d been fighting like this for an hour and getting nowhere.

He paced in front of me, turning to me and placing his hand on my chin so I would look up.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as tears ran down my face, sinking to his knees, “I’m so sorry… I know you though. You can get through this.” His hands moved up the outside of my thighs, holding me tight like he always does.

⋆༺

5. I could practically feel Franco’s gaze burning a hole into the man across from me’s head.

He started over to us as soon as he saw the man take a step closer. He cleared his throat, placing his hand on the small of my back as he smiled at the man.

Franco leaned closer to me and the man left in an instant. I smiled softly at him, raising a brow, “Possessive, much?”

He sipped his drink, “With you? Always.”

⋆༺

6. “You look delicious.” I laugh out loud as he says it in my ear, I turn and swat his chest. The club music was loud and the lights were even brighter.

“Franco.” He knows he’s gotten to me, a smirk prominently on his face as he takes my hand in his and pulls me gently out of the crowd.

We make it to the bathroom, one stall, before Franco has his hands on my ass and his mouth on mine. “Needy.” I mumbled into his mouth.

“No shit, have you seen yourself?” I laughed as he pushed me up against the wall, his hand slipping below the hem of my blue dress.

He slips his tongue in my mouth, cupping my face and holding onto my waist tightly. I sometimes forget he’s an actual athlete until he brings his strength into the bedroom. Or in this case… the club bathroom.

⋆༺

7. Franco sat between my legs, my hands in his hair as he intently listened to the football match that was playing.

He's talking about some of the players but I'm busy braiding his hair which is quite hard given the length.

He moved his hands away from his water bottle that he was fidgeting with, playing them on my ankles and making me shiver. His touch is effortless and sometimes I think he doesn’t even realize because he was definitely focused on the game.

His hands slid upwards, brushing over my calf then back down. He repeated this for five minutes until I finished with his partially braided hair.

The game was still playing as he slid his fingers up my legs once more, making me shiver. He didn’t even realize until I pushed my hands over his and his head leaned back to look at me.

He smiled and kissed my hand, turning around and kneeling in front of me.

I watched his muscles move as he extended his arms to wrap around my waist. He looked up at me, his green eyes shining while his hair looked like a mess. “Are you excited for today?” We were in his drivers room, his suit unzipped.

“Yes. Because you’re here.” His hand rubbed against my face softly, like he wanted to memorize every part of me.

“Do you get nervous?”

“Of course. I don’t want to mess up when you’re were.” I frowned at his words, caressing his neck.

“I don’t care what you do, love… as long as you’re safe.” He sighed and laid his head on my knees.

“You that worried?” I nodded. “I don’t want you to be.”

“Well I’m your girlfriend and it’s my job because you chose a job where your life is in danger every weekend.” He laughed at my sarcastic tone, shaking his head and kissing my knee.

“I like that you care. But I promise you corazón, you cannot get rid of me that easily.” He kissed me softly, I kissed him back.

[luvnaomixo]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 I ONLY HAVE EYES FOR YOU

꒰ “you have beautiful eyes”… “yeah so do you” ꒱

• ⋆. you are assigned someone as a model for your college fashion show. While you are with this tall man taking his measurements he can’t help but take the chance to talk to such an angel like you . ۫︎

˚｡⋆ 𝒫𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. model!riki x fem!reader — 990wc.

stangers to lovers, kissing, cute lil crush on reader. ༝༚༝༚ … fluff 𝜗𝜚.

• 𝗻𝗮𝗼𝗺𝗶: hope you lovely’s enjoy (><)

︎ ︎︎ You and riki only see eachother at parties, this was someone you’d never even think to speak to only because of the pure opposites you two were. Riki Nishimura had so much intimidation to him you’d never even come to think he was in a modeling minor… only when you had looked at a list online of the names who were assigned to model for your piece in an upcoming fashion show.

The faint scent of fabric softener filled the Fashion studio it’s was only you in the building waiting for Riki. As you had arranged all your materials to start measuring. you look down at the folder with the name “niki shot” on it, you pick it up to open and examine the photo. it was niki.. damn he was so fine. A snapshot of niki that was honestly something you’d wanna keep after this project. You take a hot moment to look before you hear a voice from behind you… “he looks handsome,” you turn to see niki towering over you. The height difference was everything. “you cannot do that shit” you muttered turning back to the table with materials—placing your hands on the table.

“my fault” he makes a small smirk before walking around the table to look at your sketch of what you were planning on making. “this is what your making?” “yes I have to change a few things still but that’s what I had in mind” you say pretending to rearrange stuff so it looks like your doing something instead of looking at him… “So… what’s your name again?” Riki asked breaking the silence. “y/n” you replied without looking up and focused on what you needed.“Pretty name for someone who’s so serious”

“please stay still” you said as you took the measuring tape to start measuring his chest. Riki gave out a soft laugh, low and warm. making you feel that you had accomplished something just by making the boy laugh. As you move down to his waist to his thighs he looks down at you to ask “Have you done this before?”

“Plenty of times” you’d state going back to the notebook to jot down the measurement. “you’re not the first” you come back up to go measure his shoulders. “um could you..” indicating to take off his jacket. “speak up princess” he says looking at you. “your jacket riki…”you mutter. Riki shrugged, the movement effortlessly smooth as he slipped off his jacket and handed it to you. He wore a wifes beater exposing his shoulders. Just seeing his shoulders made it seem like he was hand sculpted by a literal god. You come out of your daze to wrap the measurement tape around his shoulders. Pausing for a moment. you notice how your murre inches away from him. You look up at him… “you have beautiful eyes” you realize what you just said and turned your head to hide your shame.. ain’t no way I just said that.

Riki smiles as he looks down at you. “yeah.. so do you.” it goes silent for a moment. “you know i’ve always been meaning to talk to you”. Riki states as you turn your head in shock to what he had just said. “shit I even signed up for this just to have a reason to.” Riki says while looking to the side making your heart skip a beat. “i just never thought my luck would land on you being my designer” he said looking back at you. Words couldn’t explain how shocked you were, but also relieved. You couldn’t explain it but something about him confessing this to you was really cute... “well i’m glad i got you too..” you quietly admit to Riki letting him know how you felt as well. You two take a good second to notice how close you were before you both had made contact with each other. Feeling his lips on yours was something out of a dream, you quite literally melted in his touch as his hands moved towards your waist and your hands to his chest with the measurement tape unraveled and still in hand. You both parted for a second to catch your breath. That didn’t last long once you both went back to each other deepening the kiss. One of Riki’s hands moving to cup the back of your lower head as you lift your arms to wrap them around his neck. This simply didn’t feel real… oh but it was… As you both parted your lips away from each other all you could hear is both of your heavy breathing. You looked at each other and smiled before Riki’s phone started spamming with notifications. “this fucking dude” Riki whispered to himself pulling out his phone as you chuckled a little. You snapped out of your trance before you realized it was sunset. Riki called his roommate jake, while over in the corner telling jake that he was cockblocking and such. Riki walked over back to where you were to grab his jacket and backpack. And you took your tote bag and put your notebook in it gathering your belongings while Riki hung up his phone putting it in his back pocket. Both of you were looking at each other when Riki took your phone opening it and point the screen at you to unlock it. “I’m adding my number” he said while smiling. Putting both hands on your phone you unlocked it, Riki turned the phone to put in his number. As doing so he put a cute little heart next to his name, handing the phone back to you. You took it back and smiled saving the contact.

As you turned off the lights you both walked out of the studio heading out the door. You both had stood outside while Riki asked you out on a date… I think we all know the answer<3 Riki had said that you two were gonna call later then said your goodbyes.

you had been walking back to your car when you got a text from niki saying…

Riki💗: i’ve only had eyes for you.

2024 © luvnaomixo

[mydadleft471]

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Summary: Messmer decides to surprise you in more ways than one.

Spoilers for both Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings tho, just me loving my fiery redhead.

MESSMER LOVERS COME EAT!

I finally got the courage to upload the fic I was working on! Everyone was so nice (and starving for Messmer content) so I folded lmao. Please enjoy and understand that I have never written anything like this, especially with ye olde English. It's a pain.

“I have something I wish to show thee.” Messmer’s low voice cut through the silence reverberating in his chamber.

“What is it?” You look up from patching a hole in one of his cloaks.

“I cannot say. It is a surprise.” His eye twinkled with something akin to mischief. You put down your needle and gently fold his cloak, putting it on your chair to finish later.

“A surprise for me? Are you feeling alright, My Lord?” You smile at him from where he towers above you. 

“Shush. Wilt thou follow?” 

“Always,” you say.

He leads you down countless flights of stairs and through the castle’s corridors. Down a hallway, you follow him as he steps into a lift that takes you to a part of the castle that is unfamiliar to you. You assumed you had explored everything by now, but it seems you were wrong. Messmer had given you permission to freely roam the castle, and you had spent a lot of time exploring the various rooms. You had gotten lost many times within the many twisting and confusing hallways, but the castle staff always led you back to your quarters. 

The path from the lift leads out to a part of the castle almost entirely flooded. This seems like a place that hasn’t been occupied in many years. Some of the buildings you can see appear to be collapsing and debris litters the area. The water churns uneasily below you, as if something lurks in the depths. Taking a few steps away from the ledge, you stare out into the water that swallows surrounding buildings.

“What is it?” Messmer asks. He senses your trepidation in going any further, though you don’t think you have much to worry about with a powerful demigod at your side. Still, this place sets your nerves alight and has you on high alert.

“I’ve never seen this place before. Where are we?”

He speaks as if it’s common knowledge. “The Church District.”

“What happened here?”

He takes a second before he responds in a flat tone. “It does not matter.” Noticing your face falling slightly, he gives you a small smile. “Thy surprise is near. Come.”

You continue to follow him, your footfalls mere echoes of his much heavier ones. You wonder where he is taking you, and why he decided to surprise you. Though you have gotten much closer to him throughout your time in the Realm of Shadow, you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he wants to show you something himself. So many unanswered questions, though Messmer brings about many of those. Still, you cannot complain about how well he treats you now after you’ve earned some of his trust. You are safe within his walls, and you are welcome.

Though you wish he’d let you into his heart and mind more often, you take what you can get.

Finally, he stops in a room with a large, and complete, statue of Queen Marika. Many throughout the Realm of Shadow have been beheaded, sending icy chills through you when you first arrived, but this one is intact. The only signs of damage have been from the apparent age of the statue.

“Dost thou trust me?”

His question catches you off guard. Looking up at him, he looks vulnerable and almost uncomfortable. 

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have followed if I didn’t.” You smile at him to ease his tension.

He relaxes slightly. “Of course. I will ask thee to trust me again.”

You shoot him a puzzled look. How could you trust him any more than you already have?

“Close thine eyes. I shall lead thee, hand in hand.”

The prospect of him holding your hand makes heat rush to your cheeks, but you comply. Closing your eyes, you hold out your hands, and a few seconds later, he grabs them in his much larger ones. He holds them delicately, as if you might break if he dares to squeeze your hands. His skin is surprisingly smooth and warm. 

“I will ensure thou dost not fall and injure thyself..” 

“I’d appreciate that.”

He chuckles at your comment, a sound so rare and pleasant you want to hear it again and again. He begins walking, gently guiding you down a hill and you soon feel sunlight on your skin. The air feels lighter and there is a pleasant smell of lavender and fresh grass in the air. You wonder where you could possibly be. You haven’t seen much greenery in the Realm of Shadow.

After a few minutes he stops and lets go of your hands. You instantly miss his warmth, but you soon feel the heat of him behind you. You keep your eyes closed out of obedience and trust; you know he would not harm you.

His hands gently find your waist and he moves you a few steps to the left. Satisfied, he lowers a hand over your eyes to ensure you will not open them prematurely.

“This place is sacred. Inviting thee here was not a spontaneous act.” His voice is a mere whisper in your ear. You can’t tell whether to be scared or excited for what he will soon allow you to see.

He moves his hand away from your eyes, but they remain closed. You will not sully his trust. 

You can hear the smile in his voice. He’s pleased by your obedience. 

“Open thine eyes.”

You do, and you are immediately greeted with a grassy field speckled with vibrant flowers. You’ve never seen so many in one place. You think it would take all day to identify them. Trickles of gold sit suspended in the air like shattered stained glass and the sunlight kisses your skin sweetly. Not far up a hill is a small village made up of a few wooden houses. They look old and mostly abandoned. You take in the beauty before you. Not even Leyendell was this spectacular.

“Thou’rt pleased, I take it?” His voice wavers slightly with uncertainty.

“This is a most wonderful surprise, My Lord. Thank you for bringing me here.” You look up at Messmer, whose golden eye seems to shine brighter in the sanctity of this place.

“Forget formalities here.” He sits down in the soft grass and you are soon to join him. He looks relaxed, even happy, here.

“May I ask where we are now?” You idly skim your fingertips over the silky petals of the flowers swaying in the breeze around your skirt.

“Mother’s home. Her village before she became a God.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock. It takes you a few moments to gather yourself enough to speak. “Queen Marika lived here?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Long ago.”

You wonder if Marika wanted Messmer to guard her old home, or if he does it out of love for her. You’ve seen the state of other Shamans within his infirmary, his medics working day and night to try and reverse the torture they’d went through. You knew Marika was a Shaman herself, but you’d never realized this place was originally her home. Your heart hurts for the God-Queen. Behind all her power was a girl who wanted her people safe.

You sigh, and Messmer shoots you a curious look. “This is the first time I’ve seen Marika as a person. Knowing she lived here, knowing she suffered… I understand now.”

Messmer reaches up and takes his helmet off, gently placing it to his side. “Mother desired revenge for her peoples’ suffering, and I became her instrument to do so here, in the Land of Shadow.”

“Did you want this?” 

He closes his eye. “Mother has endured what a thousand people could not. I will ensure she receives her long-awaited deliverance.” He dodged the question. He does not want this, but he desires to avenge Marika.

“I know you won’t answer me truthfully, and we don’t have to talk about this anymore. But know this: you are not ‘The Impaler’ to me.”

“Thank you.” His response is so quiet you almost can’t hear it, despite being right next to him.

As promised, you change the subject. “Have you brought others here?”

He looks away and you can see a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I have not. The first to lay eyes on this place is thee.” He admits.

“Why?”

“I-“ he begins. “Surely thou must know thy importance to me, yes?” 

The realization hits you. 

This is his way of saying he loves you.

You scoot closer to him and lay your head against his arm. You feel him tense, then slowly begin to relax. One of his snakes gently perches itself on your shoulder. You smile.

“You can touch me, you know.” You reassure him. “You won’t break me.”

Silence hangs in the breeze as you wait for him to respond.

“Dost thou understand my reason for bringing thee here?”

You nod against him. “I think so.”

He moves away from you, earning himself a confused look, then he slowly grabs your hands and pulls you closer until you are comfortably sitting between his legs. You look up at him and see that his face is almost as red as his hair. He is adorable when he blushes.

You could get used to this.

“You will forgive me if I am too presumptuous. I am… not accustomed to touch, yet I want thee closer.” His soft, silky voice makes your heart melt.

“I want you closer too. It’s okay.” You cup his face with both hands, and though it’s a simple gesture, he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. His eye closes and you try to memorize the look of peace etched on his face.

“With thee, I am content.” He whispers to you.

“Then I’ll see to it that we’re never separated.” 

His eye flutters open and he hazily looks down at your lips. His hand engulfs your cheek and you feel the warmth radiating from his palm.

So many have met their demise from the man sitting in front of you now, content and complacent, and that thought sends shivers down your spine.

“No man nor God could tear thee away from me. That is a promise.” 

He leans forward and kisses you. His lips are soft and he pulls you closer to him and his hands are splayed possessively over your face and back. You don’t want to pull away, and you get the feeling he doesn’t want to either.

You are his as he is yours.

[msfantasy-magic]

Return Home Visit

Paul Lahote x Cullen!Reader

Summary: Rosalie and Emmets daughter visits during college break.

“I said get out of my house dog!” Rosalie spits venomously to Paul who stands awkwardly in the door way. “I don’t care if she’s your imprint, she’s not going to be with you! Over my dead body!”

“You can’t keep her from me forever.” Paul retorts edging in closer. “She deserve to know she’s my imprint, we’ll be together eventually whether you like it or not.” Rosalie pulls her fist back which Emmet lunges and grabs her arm before any damage is inflicted.

“Don’t, she’s almost here.” Emmet whispers. Everyone in the Cullen household listens to the echoing foot steps walking up the drive way.

“Leave before-“ Your voice cuts off Rosalie’s threat.

“Oh my god Paul?! Is that you? What are you doing here?” You squeaked excitedly, placing your bags down only to swing your arms around Paul’s neck pulling him into a tight hug. Leaning away, Paul looks down to your face, looking into your beaming eyes. God his heart yearns for your affection. He just wanted to look into your eyes forever, and hold you just like you are forever. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” But before Paul could utter another word, Rosalie interrupts.

“Uh - hello? Aren’t you going to greet your own mother first?” Rosalie snaps making you quickly withdrawal from Paul’s embrace, the warmth of embarrassment creeps along your cheeks.

You quickly pull your mother into a tight hug. “I missed you Ma.” Your sweet words of proclamation melt Rosalie’s soul into a puddle. Your presence always managed to soothe her nerves.

“My turn babygirl, come give your old man a hug.” Your hulking father doesn’t give you a chance to pull away. He just wraps his large arms around you and Rosalie. “Both my girls are here with me. The world feels right again.” His corny words only make you giggle.

“Come now, we have your favourite take away ready on speed dial.” Rosalie hoaxes making you giddy with excitement.

“Thank ma, I’m starving! What do you feel like Paul? They have an awesome burger that has your name all over it.” Paul sheepishly enters the house hesitant under Rosalie’s murderous gaze.

“Sweetness… I thought it would just be a family evening…” You look to your dad to sooth the vein popping out of your mothers forehead, but your father only folds to your mother. Typical.

“She’s right sweetheart, we just want to spend the night with our daughter, we haven’t seen you in so long. I’m sure you understand Paul.” He says amicably, but the strong push of Emmets hands are anything but as Paul goes tumbling out the door and thudding shut on your long time crush which only serves to anger you further with the rush of humiliation.

“What is up with you guys?! What’s your problem with Paul anyway?” Your cheeks begin flaring in humiliation at your parents not so subtle dislike. “Ever since I met Paul you’ve acted so hostile and unwelcoming towards him. He’s never even done anything to deserve your wrath.”

“He’s a turns into a dog! They’re slave to their emotions, what happens if he gets upset with you one day and you come out more disfigured than Emily?” The horror of your parents words and actions light your head on fire.

“Uncle Jasper almost wrote the end date on my gravestone once, or have you forgotten?” You spit angerily, Rosalie doesn’t flinch.

“I have never forgotten, it’s why we are so cautious.”

“Your caution is suffocating me! I cannot live a long a fulfilling life if you guys are protecting me at every moment. Besides it’s not life Paul and I are serious or anything.” Now Emmet twitches at your statement.

“What does that mean?” Your Pa’s jaw clenches at your insinuation.

“It doesn’t mean anything Pops, it just means you and Ma are so over protective that we haven’t gotten more serious.” Your voice waivers.

Too late the words have settled outside of your mouth and Emmet looks ready to commit murder.

“That filthy beast! I’ll kill him!” Emmet announces, trudging to the door with great anger and throwing open the glass door.

It took all members of the Cullen family to hold Emmet back from a rampage. The boys had no choice but to call in Bella for her new born strength to hold back the over protective papa bear.

But Rosalie stared at her daughter, ignoring her husband and his antics whilst Y/n yelled to calm down . It only felt like yesterday when Emmet and her picked up their new born adoptive daughter, enamoured with her tiny hands and squishy rounded cheeks. Now a grown woman yelling at her dad to back off her unlabelled lover.

Rosalie yearned to turn back time to relive the glory days of having a baby, but just like human life, time is flashy by too quickly and she just wasn’t ready to let her baby go.

But she had to, this was her baby’s rite of passage.

Y/n, is Rosalie’s and Emmets grown-up daughter, and it’s time Rosalie finally accepts it.

[blaydie]

ᥫ᭡ LEARNING TO ACCEPT — “If I ever return home, I’d like you to accompany me. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Dan Heng x GN reader.

Word count: 2.9k

Contains: Dan Heng x GN reader, Dan Heng IL, affection, kissing, making out, cuddling, NSFW content, love bites, scratches, brief (singular) mention of blood, handjob, brief oral, penetration, aftercare

How long has it been? Since completing his duties on the Luofu, Dan Heng has hardly left his room. It doesn’t go unnoticed by any passenger of the Express; even Pom-Pom has begun voicing their concern over the situation. He has always been distant, but not to this extent. Ignoring text messages, leaving knocks on his door unanswered—it’s as though he’s no longer here. 

To say it hasn’t been bothering you would be a lie. You don’t blame him for wanting to be alone. Anyone would feel the same way if they had to relive every torturous memory of a past they cannot control. You just miss him—you never thought it would be possible to grieve the presence of someone who is only a few steps away from you.

Walking out of the parlour cabin, you pass by the archives, noticing the gap from the slightly ajar door. As you were about to carry on, you bumped into someone, unsure of who else could be lurking outside of their room at this hour. It was dark, but regardless of light, you know whose hands are gripping both of your arms to stabilise you.

“Dan?” You kept your voice low, respecting his means of privacy. If he doesn’t want anyone to see him, it would be unfair to reveal he’s finally taken a step outside of his room.

“Hello.” His voice was soft, the grip on you loosening while you find your footing. 

Without thinking twice, you step towards him and wrap your arms around him, your head resting against his shoulder. As though relieved by your gesture, a huff of air exerts from his mouth as he holds you in an embrace. It’s been a while since he last saw you; he had come to forget how you felt in his grasp.

Just as you were about to talk again, he pressed his finger to your lips. You notice a light flick on down the hall, your bodies slowly backing up into the archives. When safety is ensured, Dan closes the door and brushes past you, clearing a space for you to sit down on his mattress.

The lights remained off, giving the impression to outsiders that no one was home. You take a seat, eyes glued to the messy pillows and blankets beside you. Dan stands at the databank, finalising some pieces while you get yourself comfortable. 

“Are you feeling any better?” You inquire, snuggling one of his pillows to your chest.

“Not really. I’ve been trying to take my mind off of things.”

“That’s okay, take your time. Everyone understands, but we all miss you.”

“I missed you too.” Dan smiles to himself, his steps drawing closer. “I left you a gift; it’s outside of your room door. I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“I’ve had trouble sleeping recently. What is it?”

“It’s a teddy bear. I bought it for you when we were in Belebog. I couldn’t find the right time to give it to you—so much has happened since then.”

“Thank you. I’m guessing I’ll be kicked out soon; I’m running all my luck dry.”

“You can stay if you’d like to. Remember to keep quiet about it though, please.”

“I’m good with secrets.”

“I’ve been taking a break from work for a change. I watched all of that series you recommended to me. It was good.”

“Really? You liked it? I have so many more!—”

“Shh.” Dan laughs, keeping his volume down as he places his hand over your mouth. When you settle, he retracts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders. “I did. We can start a new series together if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much. One that we only watch together.” You beam, poking around his face with your finger until you find his cheek, giving it a light pinch. “That means you have to see me every night. No watching it alone.”

“That would be nice. I’ve been meaning to catch up with you; I’m sorry for leaving your messages unopened. I do see them all. Your words are sweet.”

“Did you see the little kitty plush? It looks just like you!”

“I did. It’s too cute to be me.”

“I think you both look alike. I haven’t seen your face for so long; how do I even know this is Dan Heng? What if you’re a Dan Heng imposter?”

Leaning over you, he flicks on the lamp which produces low lumination, allowing you to gaze upon his facial features. He was in his nightwear, his lips pursed together.

“I know you’re still confused over what you saw on the Luofu. You can ask questions if you’d like.”

“I don’t want to pry. I am worried though.” Upon saying this, his features soften. “You’re not going to leave the Express, are you?”

“Not anytime soon. Don’t stress about that.” Dan reaches for his phone, opening up a streaming app. “I have my reasons to stay.”

“Good. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” You poke your head over, looking at the series he’s selecting to play. “You don’t have to hide your form when you’re with me. I didn’t find it weird; you looked beautiful.”

“Ah, it’s… It’s not like that. I prefer this one. That’s all.” His cheeks flush, eyes flickering up to you then back down to his phone. “There’s too much negativity tied to it. Plus, I don’t exactly blend in.”

“Can I see it again?” You brush your thumb over his hand, a small huff exiting his parted lips.

As your thumb continues to travel his skin, he locks his fingers with yours. Your eyes drift up, the change in his appearance evident. His hair flows behind his back, ears pointy. You instinctively reach to feel the horns crowning his head, but he stops you, holding your forearm in place.

“Let me do it for you.” He speaks in a hushed tone, guiding your fingers around the curve of each horn. The feeling is unlike anything you can think of. They’re much smoother than you imagined.

“Dan, they’re so pretty. Wow…” You’re in awe, captivated by the beauty of the man in front of you. Freeing yourself from his clutch, you tuck a long strand of hair behind his ear and run your finger over the cartilage.

“…” The faint blush on his cheeks darkened, spreading over the ears you have your hands all over. He clears his throat, doing his best to shake the feeling of the way you’re touching him. “Thank you.”

“I think you look amazing. This is who you are; you shouldn’t have to hide it because of a past that’s gotten stuck to you. You’re much better than he ever was.”

As you move back, you catch a glimpse of the wide-eyed expression he’s giving you, his eyes glowing and his mouth twisted into a wide grin. With his arms weaved around your waist, he tugs you closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“I want people to see me for who I am. I’ll never be him. I want all of my accomplishments to belong to me. Nothing of mine should be tainted with his name.”

“That’s how it should be.” You bury your hand in his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

“I truly did miss you,” Dan mumbles against your skin, planting a kiss on your collarbone. “You understand me better than anyone else does. I appreciate that.”

“I try my best. I want you to feel that you can come to me for anything. You don’t have to resolve everything alone.”

Planting more pecks along your flesh, he returns to your neck, his tongue trailing up a patch of skin. His fangs graze you, nipping you abruptly. It felt like a needle, causing you to gasp, gritting your teeth while he quickly pulled back.

“I’m so sorry.” He wipes his mouth, a small trickle of blood escaping the puncture. “My teeth are sharper like this. I forgot…”

He places a kiss on top of the small bite mark, lifting you so you straddle his lap. Both of your hands remain on his shoulders, your foreheads pressed against one another. Pulling down his bottom lip, you lean into a kiss. He holds you tightly, allowing you to take the lead. In all truth, he’s terrified of hurting you. It’ll take some adjusting to get used to interacting with others in this form, particularly in more intimate ways.

Your tongue brushes against his, winning the battle and continuing on. It’s clear he’s holding back, but you aren’t willing to push him. Taking things slow will help him; the last thing you want to do is make his discomfort in this form grow worse. You and Dan have established in the past that this relationship has far surpassed friendship, though there’s yet to be an official label. Whatever reason there may be for that is unclear, but you both know your hearts belong together. Neither one of you would look for this with another person.

Fabric rustles while your hips wind against him, too lost in the moment. His hands tremble as they dip under your clothes, index finger gliding around your waistband. You disconnect the kiss, chest heaving. He pulls his sweater from over his head, rolling to the side to trap you under him. One of his knees is lodged in between your legs, pinning you flat to the mattress.

You drag your hands down his torso, dancing over his pecs and down his abs. His breathing turns heavier, eyes half-lidded as he fumbles with undoing the buttons of your attire. Whether it be due to his recent heightened emotions, he almost seems desperate for your touch. Desperate to touch you.

By looking at him, a pang of guilt ripples through your heart. You can’t imagine being subjected to a life like his, having to deal with the sin of something you wish to not associate with. Dan doesn’t deserve to be treated or viewed the way he is. Sitting back up, you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him into another kiss, causing him to fall with you.

This time, you roll on top, holding both of his hands against the pillow. His lips pout, almost as though he were encouraging you to go further. Due to all of the touching, he became hard a while ago. He was waiting for you to be the one to initiate things.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re the only blessing this life has to give me. I must’ve used up any remaining luck I had to cross paths with you.” He rests back against the headboard, breaking his hands free so he can hold you.

“There’s so much more out there for you. We’ll find them together. We have an entire galaxy to search.”

“And much more beyond that.” He adds, the warm smile reappearing on his face.

You nod, returning your focus to his body beneath you. Sliding down his pants, you see his hardness outlined in his boxers, a small damp spot where pre-cum leaked out. His arousal for you didn’t bring him shame; he was pleased to allow you to see him this way. Vulnerability is something you only share with those you trust most.

Sliding them off, you take his dick into your hand, giving it a stroke before rubbing your thumb over his tip. The sensation shoots tingles up his body, goosebumps appearing up his skin. You continue rhythmically stroking his length, focusing your lips on leaving a trail of marks across his collarbone. He leans forward, allowing you easy access to the back of his neck where his hair covers. Swooping it out of the way, you leave a distinct hickey in a place no one will see. The only two people aware of its presence are you and him. It wouldn’t be the first thing you have both kept secret from everyone else.

Since he was already sensitive, it didn’t take him long to build up a climax, edging closer to an orgasm while you continued your motions. He panted, mouth directly beside your ear as you continued to decorate his skin with kisses and elaborately placed bites. A droplet of cum drips down onto your finger and you stop, wrapping your lips around his tip to clean him up. He swallows the lump in his throat, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand while you sit back up.

After removing your underwear, Dan guides you into the correct position, his tip pressed against your hole. He tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to tell him when you’re ready. With a nod, you lower yourself onto him, feeling him thrust up to speed the process. It didn’t take him long to bottom out inside you; your body is already familiar with his shape, fully accustomed to his size.

You both fall into the natural rhythm, your hips grinding against him while he pushes himself in and out. While he never fails to make you feel good, you intend to dedicate this night to him. He deserves the relief more than you. The longer this played out, the harder it became for Dan to suppress his urges, his knuckles turning white from the force he’s gripping your hips. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face, raising your concern. 

“Are you all right?” You whisper, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m—” He bites his lip, suppressing the groan that tried to escape. “—I’m fine. It feels nice.”

Gradually, he begins thrusting into you with more power, your body falling forward, unable to remain upright. He rubs your back, now carefully nibbling the exposed section of your shoulder. His teeth glide over you like a dagger, sending a shiver through your core. You reach the peak of your climax, back arched as he continues to fuck into you, relishing the way you react.

His breathing pattern resembles that of a predator in the wild, the deep grumbles and pants revealing how much of his energy he’s exerting to get you this way. Unable to hold on, you release your orgasm, repeating his name quietly as you ride out the waves of pleasure. His nails dig into you, his final few thrusts sloppy. He held you close to his chest as he came inside of you, refusing to break the connection just yet.

Both of you are gasping, exhausted from the intimacy. Taking advantage of his current position, he litters your arm with kisses, lifting you up to get a look at what he has managed to do to you. Your neck has bruised, alongside a few of the bites on your collarbones; a breathtaking sight to see. You’re marked up by him, completely spent. All his.

The silence between you remains until the sound of heavy breathing dies down. When composed, he slips out of you, watching as his cum spills out of your hole. Reaching for a packet of tissues, he cleans himself and then wipes you down, removing the sticky fluid from your body so you don’t become uncomfortable. You roll off of him, lying on your stomach while he stands. As he’s walking to grab you a more comfortable set of clothes to borrow, he catches a glimpse of his appearance from the reflection of a frame on the wall. He had completely forgotten he revealed his true form, not feeling the horrors associated with the person of his past.

Returning to your side, he helps you up and slips a sweatshirt over your head, readjusting your hair for you. Large scratch marks trail down the length of your back, something he’s too ashamed to tell you about at this given moment. You were a mess, but you’re still as flattering in his eyes as you are usually. 

“Go get your teddy. It’ll look strange in the morning when people pass by your door. I’m going to use the restroom.” 

“I’m tired.” You yawn, pressing your forehead to his chest while he slides back into his pants.

“I’ll grab it for you then. We can watch the first episode of that series while we try to get some sleep. It’s late.” He flashes his phone screen at you, the large numbers declaring 1:01AM.

Silently leaving the archives, Dan grabs the teddy he gifted you from the floor of the passenger cabin as he redirects himself to the restroom. While in there, he can’t help but stare at himself in the mirror, realising he has a smile on his face as opposed to the usual sombre expression when he sees himself this way. A snicker leaves his mouth as he notices in detail each tiny mark you left on him, rendering it equal to the damage he left on you.

Tossing the teddy at you, Dan climbs back under the blankets and rests his head against yours, clicking play on the first episode of a series he had been hoping to watch with you. Even though you were drowsy, you kept yourself awake with small talk, grateful he trusted you enough to allow you to enter his personal space during such a tough time. As the episode plays out, you can see Dan waiting for the correct opportunity to speak.

“If I ever return home, I’d like you to accompany me. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” His tone was matched by the tender smile on his face, squeezing you tighter in the cuddle.

“I’ll go wherever you go. We’ll stay by each other’s side for the rest of time.” You reply, closing your eyes with a passionate flare sparking flames in your heart. You can rest peacefully knowing that no matter how long it takes, you’ll ensure he can live freely in his own body, being able to experience all the joys life has to offer without feeling the need to hide. 

[k4marina]

— ix. The Dragon and the Wolf || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: finally, the day of the long awaited meeting is here. while everyone prepares for the face off, you're left the wonder if things will play out like they have before or not.

warning: cersei lannister, explicit language, mentions of gore and rape (nothing too graphic), game of thrones cannon themes and violence

all dialogue in italics is Valyrian

series masterlist || next part

word count 9.8k

game of thrones x fem!modern!reader

[gif found on Pinterest]

The sun had barely broken the horizon when I was woken up. Today was the day we were meeting Cersei and presenting her with the dead. For the last few days there’d been a heavy weight on the castle as everyone got ready, deep in their own thoughts about what would happen, the good, the bad, and the worst. 

It was an almost unspoken rule to even talk about what Cersei’s reaction would be. Would she agree or was this a trap and she’d been planning to kill us all right there? The tension was almost palpable.

Surprisingly, my bath was lavishly prepared by the maids. I almost told them to go empty the bathwater out and fill it with regular water, but instead I was chastised and ushered into the hot water with essential oils and rose petals mixed in. 

When the fuck did we have lavender oil and rose petals?

“You’re going to go meet the would-be queen, you have to put her in her place so you must look your best,” one of the maids spoke as she dunked the water over my head. The other two maids eagerly nodded, the both of them adding in their own remarks. 

“Everything must be perfect. You cannot appear to be losing sleep over her and her plotting.” 

“But I’m not?” I gave a perplexed look at them. 

“Exactly!”

After the bath they skillfully braided my hair, brading the top and letting the rest flow down my back in loose curls with two pieces of hair framing my face. Instead of my typical dark clothes I wore a long burgundy coat with a fitted bodice and leather detailing with a flared out waistline. My shoulders were covered in textured leather pauldrons and my forearms were covered in matching leather braces. The coat was secured at the waist with a belt and my hands were covered in leather gloves with the fingertips cut off. My dark wool pants were stuffed into knee high brown leather boots and a chain that slightly resembled Daenerys’ was pinned from one of my shoulders and across my chest with a small dragon pin sat high on my other shoulder.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, nodding in approval when there was a knock. The doors opened to Daenerys walking in and holding something long wrapped in a black cloth. The servants quietly left the two of us, closing the door shut behind them.

“How did you sleep?” She asks. 

“Alright.” I replied. “Had some tea the night before. You?”

“I slept a few hours, but it appears that I should have done as you did.” 

I walked over to the armor stand. “Are you ready to finally meet Cersei?” I grabbed the belt and my weapons and then turned back to her. “It’s been a long time coming after all.”

“I’m nervous.” She watches as I place my dagger in its holster by my thigh. “I can’t believe the fate of the world relies on Cersei Lannister.” 

I nodded, reaching for my belt. “Crazy times we’re’a livin’ in.” 

She doesn’t reply, placing her hand atop of mine when I go to hook my sword. 

“Ever since you brought it back I’ve been thinking about what I should do with it.” Carefully, she unwraps the thing in her hands. “And I realize, after everything, I want you to have it.” 

She pulls out Dark Sister and moves my hand away from my sword and to the Valyrian blade, securing my fingers around it. 

“Daenerys.” My eyes flicked between her and the sword. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I am.” She squeezed hand. “And I’m certain that the only person in this world that deserves to wield it is you.” 

I took in a breath, shakily exhaling. I already took a gamble going to that cave in the first place, but this was something I’d never imagined. Slowly, I pulled the blade out of its scabbard, seeing my reflection in the Valyrian steel blade. She’s had the sword polished and the handle cleaned of any rust restoring it to its true glory. 

This wasn’t Daenerys just giving me a sword, she was giving me a piece of her family's history, a relic that’s passed down from generation to generation. The amount of trust she had for me almost made me cry. I could feel the sword double in weight in my hands, a new wave of responsibility falling over me. 

I let out a breath and tightened my grip. “I swear to you, that I will serve you until my dying breath.” I took a moment before continuing. “I swear to be your shield and keep your counsel, by the Old Gods and the New.”

Daenerys’ eyes shimmered as she said the next part, nearly choking over the words. “And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New.”

We both smiled, the both of us on the verge of crying. With a laugh we leaned in and embraced each other. 

I pulled back, sheathing Dark Sister and attaching it to my belt. “Alright,” I said, clearing my throat. “Let’s go meet Cersei Lannister.”

––

The ship was ready to leave by the time I’d arrived at the island docks. The sails were set, the three headed red dragon standing out against the black background. Someone shouts aloud, a final call for everyone to board before they’d set sail.

I stepped onto the ship, wearing the same black cloak I’d taken to Eastwatch flowing behind me. The crew worked efficiently to set sail, raising the anchor and leaving the port swiftly. I stood at the front of the ship, looking out into the sea. 

“You seem the most calm.” Jon says, coming to stand by me. 

“Would it help if I was hysterical?” 

He looks forward. “No. It’s good that you’re composed. Someone has to be.” 

I slowly nodded. “How did your men take you pledging your allegiance to Daenerys?” 

He looks down. “They were confused to say the least, but there’s not much they could do about it now.” 

“I take it Ser Davos already told you how he saw it coming?” 

He nods, smirking. “You could say.” 

I turned around, spotting Tyrion and Missandei walking down to the lower deck towards us. 

“Okay,” I grabbed everyone’s attention. “Let’s go over everything one last time.” 

“Grey Worm and the Unsullied are already at King’s Landing and the Dothraki should be arriving shortly.” Missandei says. 

“When we arrive we’ll be escorted by the City’s Watch to the Dragonpit. We will all arrive first then Daenerys with her dragons.” Tyrion adds. “I’ll get up and we’ll continue with our demonstration and hopefully, Cersei agrees to help us.”

“Right well, that sounds promising.” Ser Davos muttered. 

“It’s better than nothing.” I said, leaning back on the railing of the ship's bow. “We may have agreed to a mutual armistice for now, but that doesn’t mean that Cersei won’t blow us up with Wildfire, like she did to the Great Sept of Baelor.”

Missandei glanced down at my waist and frowned. “Is that a new sword?”

“New? Not technically.” I brought my sword forwards. Tyrion's eyes raked over the sword before staring wide eyed at me. 

Jon, also quickly realized what I had in my hand.

“Is that?” Jon askes.

“Dark Sister.” I finished. I nodded, holding it closer to him. “Her Grace gave it to me.” 

Tyrion looked like his jaw was stuck open. “How? It was lost North of the Wall.” 

“And now I’ve found it.” 

Jon carefully eyes the sword, finally understanding. “This is what you were looking for beyond the wall?”

I nodded, “it was. Truth be told I wasn’t expecting it to be there, so imagine my surprise when I did find it.” 

“Forgive me, what is Dark Sister?” Missandei asked. 

Tyrion’s quick to reply. “It’s one of the two ancestral swords of House Targaryen.” 

“It was first wielded by Queen Visenya Targaryen and then hundred of years later, Brynden Rivers, the last one to wield it, took it with him beyond the Wall and since then it’d been lost.” I said. “When Jon and his men were going to Eastwatch I took it as an opportunity to go look for this, as well.” 

I sheathed the sword, my left hand coming to rest on it naturally. “We’ve got one of the two in our possession now.”

“You think you can get the other one?” Ser Davos asks. 

“Where is it?” Jon asks aloud. 

“If I recall correctly, Aegor RIvers took the sword with him when he went to live in exile in Essos; however, nothing is known about it after that.” Varys replied. 

“Forget about it.” I waved my hand, dismissively. “We have other things to worry about, like a certain Lannister queen.” 

––

The long hours had dragged on but we were finally there. In the distance, we could see Aegon’s hill and the Red Keep. Next to the castle’s harbor were all the remaining ships of Euron Greyjoy, who was still rotting away in Dragonstone’s cells. Tyrion, Theon, and Varys stood on deck, looking off into the distance at the castle. Jon, Jorah, Missandei, and I stood on the foredeck, also taking in the sight in front of us.

“How many people live here?” Jon asks Tyrion. 

“A million, give or take.” He replied. 

“That’s more people than the entire North crammed into that. Why would anyone want to live that way.”  

“There’s more work in the city,” Tyrion says. He turned to Jon. “And their brothels are far superior.”

I shook my head. “I forget you used to be a connoisseur of brothels.”

Once we were docked and unloaded we were led through King’s Landing by carriage. I pulled my hood over my head, concealing myself. The less attention I attracted, the better our plan would go. 

The carriage halted and one of the City’s Watch’s men opened the door. Everyone stepped out, glancing up at the remains of the Dragonpit. 

“Follow this path,” a Gold Cloak ordered. 

We walked ahead of the Dothraki guards we’d brought along. Jon, Tyrion, Jorah, Missandei, and Davos walked ahead while Varys, Theon, and Sandor and I walked further back. Sandor was in charge of making sure the crate was not touched by anyone other than him. 

“Why did they build it?” Missandei asked aloud.

“Dragons don’t understand the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t.” Jorah explained, a slight sadness in his tone. “Land, livestock, children… Letting them roam free around a city was a problem.”

“I imagine it was a sad joke at the end.” Tyrion siad. “An entire area for a few sickly creatures smaller than dogs. But in the beginning when it was home to Balerion the Dread, it must have been the most dangerous place in the world.”

We approached a crossroad, spotting Lannister guards marching from the road that led to the Red Keep. They were led by Ser Bronn of the Blackwater and accompanied by Brienna of Tarth and Pocrick Payne. 

“Welcome, my lords.” Bronn said. “Your friends arrived before you did.” 

The Dothraki and their leader, Qhono, looked at them with suspicion while Brienne and Sandor exchanged looks, the former surprised that the latter wasn’t dead. 

“I’ve been sent to escort you all to the meeting.” Bronn waves his hand and the Lannister guards part, clearing the path for us. Tyrion motions to Qhono to take the lead, the rest of the Dothraki moving forwards with the rest of us behind. 

“A pleasant surprise in an unpleasant situation.” Tyrion says to Podrick. 

“I never thought I’d see you again, My Lord.” Pordrick gives him a small smile. 

“Supporting the enemy, no less.” Tyrion jests. 

“Hard to blame you.” 

“Cersei will anyway.”

They share a glance before Podrick sets his eyes forwards. “I’m glad you’re alive.” 

“Come on!” Bronn looks back at the two. “You can suck his magic cock later.” 

The Lannister guards behind us eyed the crate with curiosity, muttering amongst themselves before one of them had the courage to ask. 

“What’s in there?” 

Sandro glared back at him and let out a gruff, “fuck off.” 

Ahead, Brienne slowed her pace to match Sandor’s, “I thought you were dead.” 

“Not yet.” He said. “You came pretty close.” 

“I was only trying to protect her.” She reasoned. 

“You and me both.” 

“She’s alive.” She turned to him. “Arya.” 

Surprised, Sandro asks, “where?”

“Winterfell.”

“Who’s protecting her if you’re here?”

Brienne shook her head. “The only one that needs protecting is the one who gets in her way.” 

“It won’t be me.” They both smiled like proud parents, falling into a comfortable silence between the two. 

Tyrion and Bronn shared quips at one another for the rest of the walk uphill. The remains of the once beautiful arena came into sight. Lannister banners were hung up high, as a show of power. Sandor attends to the cart that was transporting the wight, bringing it down to the lower level of the pit. 

“Anyone touches it, I’ll kill you first.” 

The rest of the party entered the ruined pits taking their seats while they waited for Cersei to arrive. Like clockwork, she, the Mountain, Qyburn, and Jaime arrived. Cersei and Tyrion exchanged glances, Cersei glaring daggers directly at him. The “royal” party seats themselves on their respective sides, stoic. The Hound and the Mountain glare at each other from across the pit ready for a throwdown. 

The Cleganes size each other up before the dais. 

“Remember me?” Sandor glared at his brother's bloodshot and glazed eyes. “Yeah you do. You’re even fucking uglier than I am now. What did they do to you? Doesn’t matter. That’s not how it ends for you, brother. You know who’s coming for you. You’ve always known.” 

With a final glare, Sandor walks away, the Mountain watches him go before taking his place behind Cersei. 

“Where is she?” Cersei asks Tyrion, who’s eyes had been on his fiddling hands.

“She’ll be here soon.” 

“She didn’t travel with you?” She nearly scoffs. 

“No.” Tyrion replied. 

In the distance footsteps could be heard, Cersei raising her head to see who it was. I walked up the stairs to the Dragonpit, my clock long left behind. I held her hostile gaze as I spoke. 

“Her Grace will be here shortly.” 

She masks her confusion well as I take a seat next to Daenerys’ empty seat. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs, my eyes staring running across the Lannister banners hung up on the ruined walls that were hung up just for the summit. 

I had to give it to Cersei, she was good at emotional warfare. Holding the summit at the ruined Dragonpit was a way for her to remind Daenerys of her family and their dragon’s fate in a subtle way. This is what happened to your family, and I’ll make sure that the same happens to you, is what Cersei was trying to say. 

Everyone waits, Cersei growing more agitated by the minute. She folded her hands on her lap, gripping them tightly. Then, just as she was about to speak, dragons screech. Cersei finches while Jaime and Bronn rush to stand up and crane their necks to watch the dragons flying overhead. Viserion and Rhaegal circled around the Dragonpit. Drogon lets out a deep roar as he flys down, powerfully landing on the collapsed walls of the pit and shaking the ground. Jon and Davos look on as Drogon takes in a deep breath and roars loudly, nearly shaking the ground. He roars again, directly at Cersei, lowering his head to reveal Daenerys on his back. 

“Beautiful aren’t they?” I said to Cersei, keeping my eyes on the dragons. Drogon climbs down and Daenerys begins to dismount. I turned to meet Cersei’s eyes. “They’re so big that it’s hard to forget that they’re only six years old.” 

All of us, except for Cersei and her party, raise as Daenerys walks up the dais as Drogon flies away. I cleared my throat, preparing to take another jab at Cersei.

“We are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.” 

The two queens eye one another as Danerys takes a seat between Tyrion and I. The rest of us sit down after her, the meeting finally beginning. Missandei gives me an amused look, happy that I’d added more salt to Cersei’s wound.

“We’ve been here for some time.” Cersei says, angry. 

“My apologies,” Daenerys replied, lacking any sympathy and refusing to elaborate. Daenerys looks to Tyrion who stands up in response. 

“We are all facing unique circumstances.” He steps to the middle of the dais. “We are a group of people who do not like one another. We have suffered at each other’s hands.” He holds Cersei’s gaze. “We have lost people who we love at each other’s hands. If all we wanted was more of the same, there would be no need for this gathering. We are entirely capable of waging war against each other without meeting face-to-face.” 

“So instead, we should settle our differences and live together in harmony for the rest of our days?” Sarcasm and venom drips off of Cersei’s words.

“We all know that will never happen.” Tyrion folds his hands in front of him. 

“Then why are we here?”

Jon stands and walks forwards to make his case, Tyrion standing off to the side. “This isn’t about living in harmony. It’s just about living. The same thing is coming for all of us. A general you can’t negotiate with an army that doesn’t leave corpses behind on the battlefield. Lord Tyrion tells me a million people live in this city. They’re about to become a million more soldiers in the Army of the Dead.” 

“I imagine for more of them it would be an improvement.” Cersei says, poking fun at the poverty in King’s Landing.

“This is serious. I won’t be here if it weren’t” Jon pressed. 

“I don’t think it’s serious at all. I think it’s another bad joke.” She turns to Daenerys. “If my brother Jaime has informed me correctly, you’re asking me for a truce.”

“Yes. That’s all.” Daenerys replies. 

“That’s all?” She almost laughs. “Pull back my armies and stand down while you go on your monster hunt. Or while you solidify and expand your position. Hard for me to know which it is with my armies pulled back until you return and march on my capital with four times the men.”

“Your capital will be safe until the Northern threat is dealt with. You have my word.” 

“The word of a would-be usurper.” Cerseir grits her teeth, 

“Like your husband?” I jabbed. “Or do you mean yourself?”

Quickly, Tyrion continued to negotiate. “There is no conversation that will erase the past fifty years.” He looks directly at Cersei and Jaime. “We have something to show you.”

The Hound walks up the steps from the lower lever of the pit, carrying the crate on his back, secured by ropes. He brings it to the middle of the summit, both Jon and Tyrion standing far off to the side. Sandor staggers to his knees, dropping the crate down. He removed the chains and pins that secured the crate one by one, throwing them haphazardly to the side. He pries off the lid, fumbling as he gets nervous of what was in it, before fully removing it and throwing it to the side. He takes several steps back, eyes not once wavering away and his hand grips the hilt of his sword. 

Everyone watches the crate, but when nothing happens he kicks the crate forwards to reveal the wight, who immediately charges forwards to Cersei, screeching loudly. Cersei recoils, leaning back in her chair and frozen in fear as it got only an arm's length away from her. It goes to reach out for her but it’s roughly jerked back and thrown onto the floor. The Hound holds the chain attached to the wight's collar while the other end is attached to the bottom of the crate. 

The wight then sets his eyes on the Hound, now charging at him. Sandor draws his sword and cuts the wight in half right through the waist, but it does nothing as its legs keep kicking. I glance at Cersei who’s had a mix of confusion, disgust, and fear written on her face. She was seeing something that everyone thought was impossible. The wight’s toros crawls towards the Hound, still screeching terribly. The Hound brings his sword up and slices through the wight’s rotted hand as it reaches for him. 

Everyone watches in horror except for Qyburn who wordlessly steps forwards to pick up the still moving hand and forearm, examining it with pure fascination. 

Jon, grabs an until torch and Ser Davos lights with a flint. Jon takes the hand from Qyburn. “We can destroy them by burning them.” He moves the torch to the hand, igniting it. The other halves of the wight squirm and let out a high pitch scream. Jon drops the hand as it burns and hands the torch back to Ser Davos. 

He draws a dragonglass dagger from his side and grabs the wight's other hand holding up its torso. “And we can destroy them with dragonglass.” He drives the dagger into the wight's heart. It lets out a screech, scrambling to get away before falling still, lifeless. 

“If we don’t win this fight, then that,” he points at the dead wight, “is the fate of every person in the world.” 

He steps closer to Cersei. “There is only one war that matters: the Great War. And it is here.” 

Cersei, for once, finds herself at a loss for words. 

“We were ambushed by them,” I said to her. “When we traveled North of Eastwatch. They were everywhere, some of us thought that we were about to join the Night King’s army.” 

“How many?” Jaime asks. 

“Nearly two hundred-thousand, and growing by the minute.” 

His face falls, the reality of the situation now dawning on them. Everyone watched on bated breath for Cersei to finally speak. 

She keeps her hands folded, eyes on her lap. “If those things come for us, there will be no kingdoms to rule. Everything we’ve suffered will have been for nothing. Everything we’ve lost would be for nothing.” She raises her head to Daenerys. “The Crown accepts your truce. Until the dead are defeated, they are the true enemy.” 

Relief floods everyone, grateful that she’d seen the truth. I eyed her suspiciously, careful to not get too optimistic. 

She turned to Jon. “In return, the King in the North will extend this truce. He will remain in the North where he belongs, he will not take up arms against the Lannisters. He will not choose a side.” 

“Just the King in the North? Not me?” Daenerys says. 

Cersei gives her a bitter smile. “I would never ask it of you. You would never agree to it, and if you did I would trust you even less than I do now.” She turns back to Jon. “I only ask it of Ned Stark's son. I know Ned Stark's son will be true to his word.”

Cersei watched him, expecting him to agree while the rest of us prayed he would lie and not say a word about his allegiance to Daenerys. 

“I am true to my word, or I try to be.” He takes a moment to find his words. “That is what I cannot give you what you ask. I cannot serve two queens. And I have already pledged myself to Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen.” 

Daenerys sucks in a breath, clenching her jaw and Cersei abruptly stands. 

“Then there is nothing left to discuss. The dead will come for the North fist. Enjoy dealing with them. We will deal with whatever is left of you.” She walks away from the gathering, her Queensgaurd swifty following her. Bewildered, Jaime scrambles after her but is stopped by Brienne. 

“Ser Jaime,” she calls. 

“It’s been good to see you. I imagine the next time will be across a battlefield.” Jaime quickly moves, but Brienne goes to stand in his way. 

“We both saw what just happened. We both saw… that thing.” 

“Yes, I’m not looking forward to seeing more of them. But I’m loyal to the Queen, and you’re loyal to Sansa and her dolt brother so-” 

“Fuck loyalty,” she hits his shoulder. Jaime stops in his tracks at her words. 

“Fuck loyalty?” He echos.

“This is beyond houses and honor and oaths.” She pressed him further. “Talk to the Queen.” 

Jaime looks over Briennes' shoulder to see Cersei watching him stand there with Breinne, a twinge of jealousy in her eyes.

“And tell her what?” He doesn’t give her time to reply, rushing back to Cersei’s side, leaving the Dragonpit.

Ser Davos, staring at Jon, shakes his head. “I wish you hadn’t done that.” 

“I’m grateful for your loyalty,” Daenerys stands in front of Jon. “But we’ve risked far too much for all of this to mean nothing.” 

“I’m pleased you bend the knee, but have you ever considered learning how to lie? Every now and then, just a little?” Tyrion sighed. 

“I’m not going to swear an oath I can’t uphold. Talk about my father if you want, tell me that’s the attitude that got him killed. But when enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies. And lies won’t help us in this fight.”

“That is indeed a problem. The more immediate problem is that we’re fucked.” Tyrion runs a hand down his beard. 

“Any idea as to how we might change that state of affairs?” Davos asks. 

“Only one,” Tyrion says. “Everyone stays here and I go talk to my sister.”

Daenerys shakes her head, hating the idea. “I didn’t come all this way to have my Hand murdered.”

“I don’t want Cersei to murder me either. I could have just stayed in my cell and saved a great deal of trouble.” Tyrion replied. 

“I did this, I should go.” Jon suggests. 

“She’ll definitely murder you.” Tyrion deadpanned. 

“I’ll go with him,” I stood from my chair, stretching out my back. Daenerys shoots me a glare, but I stop her from saything anything. “I’ll be there if she gets a little too trigger happy and stop it.” 

“You can’t. Neither of you can.” She argued. I grabbed her hand, leaning in so that only she could hear me. “Remember when I said that Jaime would be an asset?” She nods. “I think now might be the time.” 

“Besides,” I pulled away, going to stand my Tyrion. “If she even touches a hair on either of us you can burn down the Red Keep with her in it.”

“Shall we?” I look towards Tyrion. He nods, bowing to Daenerys and then the two of us were on our way. 

––

A group of Lannister guards stood outside the Dragonpit. Two Unsullied guards, who were sent by Dany, stood behind us. They glanced over to us as we stepped closer to them. 

Tyrion cleared his throat. “I need to speak with my sister.” 

The guards shared a few glances, but ultimately allowed it. They lead us down the hill silently, only sparingly glancing back to us. We walked along the Street of Flower to the Red Keep, the bustling city street rushing past us. Street vendors called out to potential customers, the merchant vendors flaunted their goods, and children ran up and down the street, playing with one another. 

“Not that I mind, My Lady, but you’ve come along to do more than make sure Cersie doesn’t put my head on a spike.” Tyrion glances towards me. 

“You are correct, My Lord.”

“Can I ask what your purpose is?”

“To talk to your brother and knock some sense into his big head.” 

“Ah, well, do have fun with that. It’s not as if I haven’t tried to do the same for my entire life.” He jests. He thinks back to the many times he’s had to sit down with his dear brother and talk him out of Cersei’s grasp, only for him to talk in circles and hit a brick wall, but something deep down told him that perhaps I might be the one to finally get him to listen.

The city streets of the Capital were far different than what I could have imagined. It was off putting, truth be told. I’d spent a good chunk of my life living in King’s Landing in the modern world, surrounded by cars, buses, skyscrapers, and highrises. Seeing how the city used to be hundreds of years ago was slightly dystopian. Everything seemed so familiar, yet so different, it was both off putting and comforting. 

We were led up into the castle through a side entrance, the Kingsgaurd not warning to grab any attention from the public anymore than they already had. We were led into an underground portion of the castle and down various different tunnels that Maegor the Cruel had built during his reign. It looked like over the many years as the tunnels were being rediscovered the guards had started to use them as a way of quickly moving around the castle. 

Out in the distance I could hear something shift around, as if it were trying to stay hidden from us. I paused, and looked around, catching everyone’s attention. I waited for the sound again, glancing around the tunnel. 

One of the Queensgaurd, annoyed, spoke up. “Keep walking, woman.” 

The Unsullied stepped closer to me, but I motioned for them to stand down, not wanting a blood bath. Just as I was about to give up, the sound arose again this time louder. I walked over to the darkness, where the torch's light couldn’t reach and peered into the darkness. 

Two feline eyes peeked out of the darkness, a low hissing sound coming from it. I crouched down, and held my hands open for the cat, having a sneaking suspicion I knew who it could be. 

“It’s okay,” I said as softly as I could. “No one’s going to hurt you. Come out, please.”

The cat hissing grew louder and louder, but the cat still cautiously stepped out of the shadows. It was a black tomcat with one ear. If you looked carefully, one ear was chewed and the other torn off. 

“It’s okay, honey, I’ll keep you safe. It’s okay to come out, Balerion.” 

The cat's hissing stopped, as if it had been pulled out of a trance. A look of familiarity glossed over the feline's eyes and its hostility dampened. After all these years he was addressed as “you” or “it” or “bastard” or anything else, he was finally addressed by his actual name. 

Balerion.

I reached out slowly and scooped the cat up in my hands, cradling it near my chest. Apprehensively, he turned itself closer to me, still worried that I might be a threat. I stood up and turned back to the men. One of the Queensgaurd shook his head and spat out a misogynistic comment and then started walking again. 

“I never took you as a cat person.” Tyrion said. 

“I like all kinds of animals, but this one,” I glanced down at the black cat, “this one's special.”

We finally emerged onto the Middle Bailey out by the armory and were led up the winding Serpentine Steps and into Maegor's Holdfast where the two Unsullied were told to stand outside. I handed off the cat to one of the men, ordering him to protect the cat with his life. The Mountain waited for us by the steps and wordlessly led us up the staircase to wherever Cersei was or possibly our death.

He led the two of us down a corridor of the Keep towards Cersei’s chamber. Oddly enough, the place hadn’t changed that much in my time. A portion of the Keep had been turned into a part of the University of King’s Landing, which I attended, and the rest was a museum. 

Tyrion looked up at the Mountain who towered over the two of us, and no doubt could kill either one of us. We turned to a corridor and at the end of it was Jaime, waiting for us, and the doors to Cersei’s chambers closed.

“You brought her,” Jaime's points out, eyeing me. 

I raised my hands up, showing I meant no harm to him. “Don’t worry, nothing up my sleeve. Just here as a delegate.”

“You spoke with her.” Tyrion states. 

“At her.” He corrected. “Until she kicked me out. She thinks I was an idiot to trust you. A lot of people seem to think that, actually.” 

“I’m about to step into a room with the most murderous woman in the world, who’s already tried to kill me. Twice. That I know of. Who’s an idiot?”

Jaime almost smiles, “I suppose we should say goodbye, one idiot to another.”

Tyrion nods and the Mountain opens the door. With a deep breath, Tyrion steps into the room to go speak with his sister with the Mountain following closely behind, closing the door behind him leaving Jaime and I alone. 

We stood in silence, the two of us glancing at each other when the other wasn’t looking. 

“I was there,” I began, leaning against the wall. 

Jaime frowns not knowing what I meant. 

“At Highgarden.” 

“On the other dragon?” He recounts. 

I nodded. “Yes and when you left Olenna’s room.” I said, catching him off guard. “I entered right after you’d left.” 

He suspiciously narrows his eyes towards me. “What are you trying to get at?” 

“Nothing, just wanted to give me condolences for the death of your child, well, all of them, really. Sweet Myrcella and Tommen, and I guess Joffrey too. No parent should ever have to outlive their children.” 

Jaime hardens his jaw, his throat’s apple bobs up as he swallows down. 

“But, I can’t help but wonder why you’re still with her. I mean, in some way she’s at fault for your kids' deaths, and you're still with her.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I’m afraid I do. Joffrey, he was a spoiled cunt, knew how to dress, but Gods still a cunt. He even tortured and murdered those prostitutes in his chambers just for sport. If she’d raised him right maybe he would have turned out better. And then Myrcella, Gods, poor her. Living her best life in Dorne only for her to be killed just so it would hurt Cersei. She died in your arms, right? You’d finally had that one father-daughter moment you’d been deprived of just for her to die in your arms. And Tommen, I mean what kind of mother is she? Rather than mourning the loss of her baby boy, like you were, she says that he betrayed her?” I shake my head. “I don’t get how you don’t blame her for their deaths, I know I would.” 

“How do you know all this?” He rasps out. 

Ignoring him, I continued. “I mean, I understand you fell in love with her when you were young. But when are you going to wake up and realize that she’s not the same Cersei anymore?”

“You’re wrong,” He shook his head. 

“No I’m not. Deep down, you know I’m right. What kind of “Queen” blows up the Great Sept of Baelor with hundreds of people in it? What kind of Queen allows her people to starve while she eats and drinks all day long? What kind of Queen puts her own ego above the good of mankind when faced with the Army of the Dead? A woman that doesn’t deserve to be a Queen.”

“And you think Daenerys is better?” He tried to defend Cersei. “She’s a foreigner-”

“She was born on Dragonstone and forced to live in exile or die. Her family has ruled Westeros for nearly three hundred years, and before that they lived on a little island in Blackwater Bay.” I said, exasperated. “I understand the Mad King has left some scars, and I don’t blame you for doing what you did, but you need to stop thinking with your cock and with your brain instead. They wouldn’t have let her live if she was on Dragonstone. That thing in there, the Mountain? He stabbed a little girl, her niece, over fifty times, bashed her little brothers head in and then raped their mother with their blood on them before killing her as well, and your sister parades him around as her Queensgaurd.” 

I took in a deep breath, composing myself. “Everything is laid out. You know which queen stands for what values and now it’s your turn to decide who you want to stand by.” 

The doors quickly open, revealing Cersei and Tyrion behind her. She looks between Jaime and I, but says nothing. Wordlessly, she walks, prompting the rest of us to follow her. The Mountain followed close by as we followed her out of the Red Keep and back to the Dragonpit. 

Jon and Daenerys were stood talking to each other when we arrived, shocked to see Cersei and her people back. 

“My armies will not stand down.” She begins. “I will not pull them back to the capital.” She paused for a moment. “I will march them north, to fight alongside you in the Great War. The darkness is coming for us all. We will face it together.” 

Shocked, everyone looks at Cersei and then Tyrion. “And when the Great War is over, perhaps you will remember I chose to help with no promises or assurances from any of you. I expect not.” She turns to Qyburn and gives the order, “call our banners. All of them.” 

With that, she turns to leave. Before Jaime can leave, I grab his arm, leaning in. “When she goes against her word, send a raven to me.” I let go of his arm and step up the dais to stand next to Daenerys, watching the rest of them leave.

––

Daenerys and I sat around the table watching Balerion walking along the Painted Table, knocking over the figurines we’d placed on it. It entertained himself well, pouncing on the Lion on King’s Landing and leaving an array of scratches on it, while it playfully toyed with the Dragon on Dragonstone.

“I can’t believe it.” Dany said. Her eyes never left the cat’s taking in it’s every move. 

I shake my head. “To think that that cat was the last living thing that saw your niece and nephew before their murder. I can’t imagine the horrors he’s had to see.” 

Balerion walked over to us and leaned in. Dany smiled and reached out to pet him only for him to recoil and hiss. Dany frowned, and moved her hand back, surprised. 

I laughed, reaching into my pocket. “I think he’s hungry.” I pulled a piece of dried fish out of a small bag and held it up to him. He sniffed the treat and immediately pounced on it. I handed another piece to Dany and encouraged her to feed him. Like before, Balerion sniffed the fish and then ate it happily.

The door’s opened and Jon and the rest of them entered, ready for the meeting. Startled, Balerion jumped down into my lap and hissed at the people who entered. I held him close, softly housing him as the others took their seat. I gave him another piece of dried fish as Daenerys started the meeting. 

“We’ve got our armies,” she spoke. “But how do we get to Winterfell?”

“If we have the Dothraki ride hard on the Kingsroad, they’ll arrive at Winterfell within a fortnight.” Jon suggested. 

Daenerys nods, “and the Unsullied?”

“We can sail with them to White Harbor and meet the Dothraki here on the Kings Road, then ride together to Winterfell.” Jon pointed to the long stretch of road that reached from the capital to Winterfell.

“Perhaps you should fly to Winterfell, Your Grace,” Jorah stepped forwards. “You have many enemies in the North. Thousands fell fighting your father. All it takes is one angry man with a crossbow– he’ll see your silver hair on the Kingsroad and know that one well placed bolt will make him a hero: The Man Who Killed the Conqueror.” 

Danerys nods, agreeing with Jorah's sentiments, and goes to speak, but is stopped by Jon. 

“It’s your decision, Your Grace. But if we’re going to be allies in this war, it’s important for the Northerners to see us as allies. If we sail to White Harbor together, I think it sends a better message.”

She weighed her options, seeing the logic and faults in both arguments. She turned to Jorah. “I’ve not come to conquer the North. I’m coming to save the North.” She turned to Jon, nodding, “we sail together.” 

Jon bows his head, a slight smile on his lips and Jorah back’s down. 

“When we arrive at White Harbor, I’ll have to make a detour.” I said. 

“For what?” Daenerys asks. 

“A young wolf’s crown,” I said cryptically. “I need to go to the Twins, but I will rejoin you all before we’ve stepped foot in Winterfell.” 

Understanding, Daenerys nods. It’s not the first time I’d gone off alone, and every time I’ve come back I’ve brought back something that has benefited her. 

“How is the dragon's food?” She asks Varys. 

“We’ve got plenty of food, Your Grace. Lady Vellarys’ suggestion to appeal to the island villagers worked. Almost all of them have offered to give two or three of their livestocks.” He reported. 

“Have a few sail boats with food ready for King’s Landing, we’ll be needing them soon.” I ordered. 

“For the city?” Tyrion asks. 

“Yes, they’re starving and we’re going to be their saving grace, well, Daenerys is.” I turned back to Varys. “And keep your eyes open for any ravens coming from the Red Keep.” 

Jon narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think she’ll send her army north.” 

I nodded, “I’m hoping she proves me wrong, given her current circumstance, but this is Cersei Lannister. She thinks she’s the smartest woman alive when in fact it’s the opposite.” 

The meeting ended smoothly, everyone knowing what they had to do now. I was the last to leave, spotting Jon and Theon having their long awaited talk. I decided to walk around the castle, needing to clear my head and plan what to do next. When I walked towards the docks I saw Theon giving orders to his men and Ironborn ships in the docks. 

“You’re leaving, I assume?” I asked. 

“Yes, My Lady. My sister has taken the Iron Islands and I must return to her.” He replied. 

“And your beloved uncle is going as well?” 

He nodded. “Euron will be punished for his crimes however Yara sees fit.”

“And your conversation with Jon?”

“Good,” he nods, fiddling with his hands. “We’ve..” He tried to find the right words. 

“Reconciled?” 

“Yes. Reconciled.” He looks down and then back up to me. “I want to thank you for.. that night. I almost.. lost my sister, and if it weren’t for your words I wouldn’t have found it in myself to speak to Jon again.” 

“There’s no need to thank me. I only said a few words, you were the one who found it in yourself to do those things.” 

An Ironborn, already aboard the ship, makes the final call for the crew, raising the sails. I stuck my hand out to Theon. “Stay safe, Lord Greyjoy.” 

Our fingers wrap around each other's forearms, giving a squeeze and light shake. 

“You as well, Lady Vellarys.” 

He walks up to the ramp of the ship, boarding and orders the vessel to start moving. I watched on as the Ironborn ships left the ports and further and further away. 

––––

It was late in the evening, Daenerys and I were sat together in her room, having our supper. The food was spread all over the table, meat, fruit, stew, bread, and deserts. A pitcher of wine sat in between us. I poured myself a glass, swirling the white almost golden wine and took a swig. 

“Arbor Gold,” I placed my glass down. “Do you know how much this would cost someone like me during my time? Thousands, hundreds maybe, millions. And here I am, sitting next to you, having dinner, and sipping on one of the finest wines in all of Westeros.”

“Now that we have control of Highgarden, you can drink all the Arbor Gold you what,” she smiled. 

“Oh, believe me, I will.” 

Daenerys sets her fork and knife down, folding her hands in front of her. “We’re going to be leaving for Winterfell soon.” 

“We will,” I mirrored her stance. 

“I want to know what I’ll be facing.” 

I raised my brows and thought back, “well. They don’t like you. Partly because of your father, but also because you’re an outsider, as in not being from the North. The main person you should be wary of is Sansa Stark, Ned’s eldest daughter. She, her father and her younger sister, Arya, traveled to King’s Landing almost seven years ago. Ned was to be Robert’s hand after Jon Arryn was killed and Sansa was Joffery Lannister’s betrothed, but we both know how that went. Her sister and her were separated the day of Ned’s execution and while Arya bounced around Westeros and Essos, Sansa was imprisoned in the Red Keep at Cersei and Joffrey’s mercy. She was humiliated and belittled by both and then forced to marry Tyrion-”

“Tyrion?!” She almost shouts, surprised.

I nodded. “Both of them didn’t want it, but he was a good husband, never made her do anything and defended her even at his own expense. After Joffrey was poisoned she escaped by the help of Littleginger, Pyter Baelish who’s a mess and a half himself, and the two escape to the Vale where Sansa’s aunt, Lysa, former widow of Jon Arryn, was waiting for them. Baelish and Lysa married, which made him Lord of the Vale, which was his main goal, and then he later killed Lysa, who killed her husband under Littlefinger's orders.” 

“What a charmer.” 

“Tell me about it. But don’t worry about him, he’s dead or should be by now.” 

“That’s comforting.” 

“Anyways,” I waved my hand. “After securing the Vale, he sells Sansa off to Ramsey Bolton, who’s one of the families that betrayed the Starks at the Red Wedding. Ramsey was a sadistic fuck, born a bastard and couldn’t seem to move past it and made it his entire personality. She was once again a prisoner, except in her own home. It wasn’t until Theon, who was also imprisoned and tortured by Ramsey, helped her escape as well as Brienne of Tarth, then she was reunited with Jon at Castle Black. Jon, enraged, pleaded to almost every house in the North for support, and got almost none, waged a war on Ramsey – we called it the Battle of the Bastards. Jon nearly died, but the Knights of the Vale came just in time to help, and Jon was able to take back Winterfell.” 

“I can’t imagine what horrors she’s seen.” Dany shook her head, her heart breaking for the poor girl. 

“We need to empathize with her, Dany. Share your experiences, show her that you’re not so different after all. Two girls, no family, alone in an unknown place trying to find themselves back home. It’s going to be difficult, she’s a Stark and Starks are hard headed, you’ve seen how Jon is.” 

She shakes her head, understanding my words and the importance of them. “You said her younger sister was in Essos?”

“Arya. She’s more like her aunt, Lyanna. Less “ladylike” and more “I want to be a knight and go on adventures,” her and Jon have a really close relationship. She went to Braavos to learn the way of the Faceless Men, once she did she came back to Westeros, laid waste to House Frey and then traveled to Winterfell.” 

“And what is her attitude towards us?”

“Positive, from what I recall. She still has her Northern mentality, but she looks up to strong female figures; Nymeria of Ny Sar and Visenya Targaryen to name a few.”

“And the Crown you referred to, of the wolf? Was it Robb Starks?”

“It’s still in the Twins, hidden in some treasure chest. I think if we give it to them, especially Sansa, as a sign of good faith to the Starks and the North they won’t be so hostile.” 

“And you think you can find it?” 

“I have to try.” I shrugged. “If I find it then we start off on the right foot with the Starks, if we don’t then we’re going to have to work harder.”

Daenerys’ eye trails off to the right, a servant just entering with a worried expression. 

“I apologize for the intruding, Your Grace, but a raven from King’s Landing has arrived for Lady Vellarys.”

–––

The tension in the room was palpable, everyone staring off, almost defeated. The message that we’d just received sat at the table in front of us. 

You were right. She’s refused to send the army North. Cersei has betrayed us. – J.L

 Jon stood at the end of the table, seething with anger, feeling foolish that he believed Cersei at all. Daenerys sat at the head of the table, hands folded in front of her. Tyrion looked defeated, a goblet of wine in one hand and the other ready to reach for the pitcher to pour more. Varys had an unreadable expression, standing there with his arms crossed and eyes on the floor. 

“Cersei said she’d send her armies North,” Tyrion muttered under his breath. 

Angrily, Daenerys turned to him. “You trusted her, Tyrion. You said that she would never betray family.”

“I believed her. I made a mistake– we all make mistakes.” His voice came out angry and defeated. 

Daenerys angrily stood up from her chair, the wooden feet scraping against the stone floor. Fire burned in her violet eyes. “She fooled you. You knew she was dangerous, but you still listened to her, trusted her.”

Tyrion shook his head, not at her words, but at his own foolishness, blinded by family. “I didn’t want to believe that she was capable of this. That she’d risk the fate of the world for the throne.”

Before Daenerys could lay into him even more I placed my hand on her shoulder, reeling her back. She turned to me and the look on my face was all she needed to know. 

“You knew.” She sneered. “You knew, and you still let us meet. How could you? You were supposed to help me–” 

“Daenerys.” 

“No! Tell me, did you–” 

“Of course I fucking knew!” I scoffed. “Did I have some hope that she’s turn a new leaf and be a good fucking human being? Yes. But deep down, just like all of you, I knew that that bitch would only think about herself.”

“What else do you think I’ve been preparing for?” I took in a deep breath, feeling a migraine approaching. Calmly, I turned to Daenerys. “We still have enough men, we still have the Dornish army, the Reach, three fucking dragons – Daenerys we have enough. We are going to win, and when we do we’re going to take the throne and put that whore’s neck on a chopping block.” 

I turned to Vayrs. “Put you little birds to work. Tell them what we know; The Army of the Dead march towards us and that Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow pleaded to Cersei Lannister to help defend the Realm, but she refused. Tell them that Daenerys is marching North to fight the dead with her army and dragons. Tell them to sing her praises. Tell them if anyone else wants to fight for all of humanity alongside the rightful Queen then to march North now. Send the ships filled with aid to King’s Landing, tell them it’s from their true Queen, that she can’t stand to see her people starving in the streets, that she thinks of them in her prayers while she’s off to fight against the Night King.”

Surprised at my outwards aggression, Varys stands there, shocked only snapping back to reality when Daenerys’ sharp eyes are on him He quickly bows his head, muttering a “as you wish, My Lady,” and scurried out of the room to do as he was commanded. I walked over to Daeneys, who was a bit more calm now than before, taking her hands in mine, reassuringly. 

“Don’t worry, we will prevail. Don’t let this get to you. You have to think forwards and to the battles ahead. I swear to you, we will win.” She closed her eyes as we brought our foreheads together. “Rest for now, I’ll handle everything.” 

Daenerys nodded. “Be sure to sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us.” She turns to leave, not sparing anyone a glance. Jon and Tyrion watch her go, wanting to say something but staying quiet at the end. 

I walked to Jon, “go, comfort her. She needs you.” Without a word he dashes out the room and towards Daenerys’ chamber.  

Exhausted, I take a seat at the table, closing my eyes. There's some shifting and metal clinking before Tyrion speaks. 

“You’re a lot better at being the Hand than I am.” I open my eyes and catch him placing a fresh cup of win in front of me. I reached over, taking it. 

“Trust me, I’m not.” I take a great swig, letting the Dornish Red run down my throat. “I wasn’t lying,” I played with the cup in my hand. “When I said that I believed her a little bit. I thought that after losing all of her children in horrific ways that she would join us to protect the one she’s pregnant with. But I guess not.”

“To be deceived by my sister,” Tyrion raises his glass as a toast. 

I grimace, raising mine in agreement. “Let's never toast to this ever again.” 

–––

Our day started off even before the sun had crossed the horizon. Begrudgingly, I got prepared for our long travel with the help of the servants. As the days went by, the weather got colder, and now with the Night King at our doorsteps, the days were going to get even worse.

Some servants hulled the last of my belongings down to the ships. I stood by the railing, looking down at the people working hard for our departure when Daenerys came to stand by my side. 

“You were right,” She says. “Deep down I knew that she was lying, but like everyone else, I believed her. I was deceived.” 

I turned to her, but spotted someone behind her. “Lord Varys.” 

He bowed, addressing us both. “You were right to prepare, My Lady. My little birds tell me that the people are growing more hostile to Cersei and favoring Daenerys. It won’t be long until riots start to break out and they storm the Red Keep.” 

“Do you think she will send her armies North now that the people have turned?” Daenerys asks me. 

“No. That woman fears no one, not even the Gods. If she sends her armies North now it would mean swallowing her ego and giving up the throne, which is inevitable at this point.” 

I glanced towards the oncoming sunrise. “By the time we’re finished with the Night King, the people of King’s Landing will open the city doors for us with welcoming arms.” 

––––

Snow falls from the sky, but that doesn’t deter the Army of the Dead from marching forwards. Nothing does. The wights come out of the treeline by the dozens, all itching to feed off of a living creature. They all stand there, mindlessly looking up at the seven hundred foot tall wall made of ice and magic, the only thing standing in between them and the Seven Kingdoms. 

Waves can be heard hitting the cliffside. The cold ocean wind carries all across Eastwatch. But that doesn’t do anything to them. The Army of the Dead relish in the bitter cold, they are the cold. They are the everlasting winter.

They part like the sea, letting the Night King and his entourage through. The snow crunched under the hooves of their undead horses. The Night King’s ice cold, glowing blue eyes took in the sight before him. Finally, after hundreds of years, after growing his army and his powers he was here ready to accomplish his task; utter annihilation of all mankind. 

And the only thing standing in his way was a wall made of ice, holding the same magic that ran through his frozen vines made by the same beings that birthed him into this world. 

He gets off his horse, leisurely walking to the ice wall. The White Walkers watch him bring his hand to the wall. He caresses it, taking in every second of this moment. Closing his eyes, he focuses his powers to a point under his hand, willing himself to break the wall. 

The ground violently shakes, trees rattling and swaying side to side, and a faint crackling sound grows by the minute. The wind blows around them, threatening to rip out the trees from the earth, it howls and lets out the deafening whistle as the Night King uses more of his power. He digs his nails into the ice and the chucks of the wall start to fall from the sky. Bit by bit, the wall crumbled, hitting the ground with loud thuds and shattering on impact to more ice shards. The Night King uses more of his power and the protective magic in the ice finally breaks causing the walls foundation to crumble and give away, finally collapsing.. 

The wights let out a shriveling screech and charge through the fallen wall, eager to feast and lay waste to everything in sight. The Night King walks back to his horse, mounting him and making his way over the remains of Branden the Builder's greatest creation. There’s almost an excited expression on his ice cold face. He grips onto the horse's leash and he can still feel the remnants of his power at the tips of his icy fingers. So close. He’s so close to finally achieving his goal. If he could, he'd smile triumphantly.  

Winter was coming. 

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia @llynx7 @pookynknowntranger @riley-625-bell @myathegoat @evilunicorns4minions @honeycola-umbra @nen-nyy

a/n: i'm back from my little vacation which means more chapters :))

[thesassypadawan]

So Uncivilized (Master Obi-Wan x FemPadawanReader)

Summary: After a long mission all Obi wants is a good rest. Too bad that will have to wait. You ‘accidently’ left something of yours in his sleep couch…and got your poor master all hot and bothered. Oppsies!

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut. Panties, masturbation, some good time riding, and Obi’s big, fat cock. Padawan reader is of age.

Notes: A little something for @fluentlyspeakingtreason! It was truly a pleasure to write this! As soon as I read your ask, I knew exactly what do! I had a lot of fun with it, cannot not emphasize that enough!  Hope you like it! 💙

Sighing heavily, Obi-Wan plopped down on his sleep couch. It had been a long mission and, what felt like, an even longer debriefing with the council. All he had craved from the moment he set foot back on Coruscant was a good rest and, finally, he was able to do so.

Having stripped down to nothing, he pulled back the covers and was met by the very ‘interesting’ surprise of…your panties.

True, a master shouldn’t know what their padawan wears beneath those robes. However you had, on more than one occasion, forgotten them in the fresher after you were done. Leaving Obi flushed in the face, head full of ‘thoughts’, and, well, painfully hard.

Despite all of that, he never dared act on these ‘thoughts’. Always pretending he didn’t see them and, to his great dismay, letting them remain behind. Because of the whole jedi code, you being his padawan, and what not.

That is until today though…

Not sure whether it was the lack of sleep, temptation getting the best of him, or maybe both. Either way, Obi-Wan found himself taking the small, lacey pair into his hands. Bringing them to his face and…

He groaned as he inhaled your heavenly scent. Mouth watering as he lapped at the tacky spot of your arousal that you so kindly gifted to him. “Maker, you’re a sweet one.”

Once they were licked clean, he wrapped them around his hard cock. Eyes closing as he began to pump himself. Imagining how your face would contort in ecstasy, while he pounded into you. How you would clench around him, head thrown back as you begged for…

“I’ve been looking for those!”

Obi’s eyes snapped open in surprise. He had been so caught up in his fantasy that he didn’t even hear the door sliding open. “Little one, I… Well, you see… Why are you naked?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you giggled softly. “Obviously because I couldn’t find my panties. Come on, master, I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I-I-I…” Was all he could manage to stutter out. He was flustered beyond belief. Face on fire from embarrassment. Cock twitching at the fact that you caught him in such a deprave act.

“Anyway,” you purred, snatching your lingerie off him. “Thanks for keeping them warm for me.”

Winking playfully, you kissed his oozing tip and turned to leave. But were stopped when…

“And where do you think you’re going?” Obi-Wan growled, an iron grip on your wrist.

He watched as a mischievous grin crossed your face. “I was going to put some clothes on. You know since I found my panties.”

“Oh no, you don’t.” Grasping your hips firmly, he pulled you down on top of him. Crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Forcing your knees on either side of his thighs.

“You’ve misbehaved, padawan of mine.” He reached between your bodies. Taking hold of himself and placing his fat head at your already soaked entrance. “And you’re not leaving here until you’ve been thoroughly punished.”

“Is that so?” You cooed, grinding your hips into him nice and slow. “Prove it then.”

He merely smirked and with a subtle persuasion of the force, Obi had you slowly sinking down on his impressive length. Stretching out your pussy as he made you take girthy inch after girthy inch. Until he bottomed out.

“Master,” you happily mewled, rubbing the slight bulge in your stomach. “So big, master.”

“Darling,” he scolded, large hand grazing over your little bump. “This is punishment, not enjoyment. Do you understand?”

He felt you squirm under his touch. “Yes, master,” you whimpered, giving a slight nod as you bit your lip.

“Excellent.” His arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Now be my good girl and take everything I give you.”

Snapping his hips, Obi-Wan slammed up into you. Making your cry out in pleasure, already desperately clamping down on him.

“So tight.” Using his hands, he moved you up and down. “So wet.” Bucking wildly, hitting that perfect spot deep inside of you. “And so naughty.”

He was bouncing you on his cock by this point. Hips thrusting at a ruthless pace as he lifted you effortlessly. Bullying and bruising your cervix over and over.

“M-Master,” you whined, your walls fluttering around him. “I’m so c-close…”

“Already?” Obi grunted, his hips beginning to falter. “All right, dear one, you may… cum.”

Tugging you down hard on his cock, he somehow buried himself even deeper. Groaning as you clenched him wonderfully, while he stuffed your pussy deliciously full of his hot cum.

“Well then,” he chuckled, noticing the satisfied smile you wore. “You certainly looked pleased with yourself.”

“You bet ya,” you giggled, pressing a fiery kiss to his lips. “Think I’ll have to misplace my panties more often.”

“So uncivilized,” Obi-Wan growled, emphasizing his point with a good, hard thrust.

Tag List: @cacti5539

[reiderwriter]

You'd Be Like Heaven To Touch♣️

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Female Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: After a whirlwind weekend, you're finally ready to go home and deal with the mess you created in Vegas. But you just cannot get your new Husband out of your head.

Warnings: Oral sex (F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, no mention of birth control, and you're going to hate me by the end of this sex scene bye

A/N: They're officially out of Vegas! I'm so excited to share the next few parts with you guys, and we finally got our first taste of smut!! Also, the Reid in the gif is the exact one I'm picturing in this scene so yeah 🤡 smirk and all 😏

Here's the series masterlist, and my general masterlist!~

Prev. Chapter // Next Chapter

The race back to the hotel was easy compared to the ensuing rush to pack up an entire hotel room's worth of mess in the time between their arrival and their check-out time. Sure, they’d had to pack light as travelling FBI agents, but with the added mess you’d created in Spencer’s room, and the additional luggage of their marriage licence, the packing was needlessly more frantic than usual. 

When you finally did make it down to the lobby, you froze up a little, realising that you were the final one to exit your room. You watched as seven pairs of eyes shifted to you as soon as the elevator door opened, hauling your go-bag further up your arm from where it was slipping down. You thanked your past self for having the foresight to put some makeup into the bag, having used up a copious amount of your concealer to cover up any evidence of your night with Reid. You still kept a small distance from the others, just in case.

“Sorry, were you all waiting for me?” you smiled at them as you got closer, hoping that they’d not ask questions at what had taken you so long. Your eyes caught Reid’s and you could see that he was looking down at your neck. 

After an entire day morning and night in your company, you knew he’d seen the results of his handiwork. You wondered if the look that raked over you now was that of the dominant Reid from the night before, who you presumed marked you in such prominent places so people would know you were his, or that of the concerned team mate, who didn’t want to be caught and questioned by the others. You tried to shake both images from your head, not sure which would please you more. 

“It’s okay, you’re not late, the cars are being bought around now and the jet leaves in 30,” Hotch greeted you when you finally got close enough. 

“Late night, mama?” Morgan laughed at you as soon as he turned to you. “How did all that drinking last night go for you?” 

You were so wrapped up in Reid and what he may or may not be thinking that you had to pull yourself back to reality for a second to realise that Morgan had been talking to you. 

“What? Oh yeah, I guess. I don’t think I drank too much, but I did sleep like a baby, so who knows.” You laughed a little to punctuate the point, and then watched Morgan’s reaction closely. You were still looking for the two “agents” who had been witness to your marriage, after all. 

“Ooh, you didn’t sample the local goods last night then? I’ve heard that Downtown Las Vegas is the best place to meet single men, and you were just complaining that you hadn’t been out in a while,” Penelope said from beside the man. 

“No, no, the place Reid took me to was more library than bar, and as far from Downtown as you could get, so it was a nice and easy night for me.” 

“And if the local men are anything like our resident Las Vegan,” Emily jumped in, looking at Reid. “Then I’m sure they’re not really what Y/N is looking for.” She laughed and they all start making their way out of the lobby. 

You try to avoid meeting Reid’s eyes after that last comment, sure that you wouldn’t be able to stop the grimace of apology from coming to your lips. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you forced your eyes up into a small peak at his face, only to see his downturned eyes and the small smirk that was crossing his lips. 

You hung back for a second, needing to clue this out, and nudged him with your elbow. 

“What’s that look for?” you whisper at him in a harsh tone, hoping that no one was watching the two of you. 

“It’s nothing.” He says, but the smile stays on his lips. You give him another look, silently communicating that you’re not taking that first answer and he nods a little as he walks beside you. 

“If they could see the marks on your neck, they wouldn’t be thinking that I’m not what you’re looking for, right?” You could feel the heat in your cheeks, and you playfully whacked him in the arm a bit, before pushing through the doors of the hotel and feeling the sun on your cheeks once again. 

You watched him climb into the car you took earlier and stop yourself from following him. You were going to need some time to think about how you should take that last comment, and a half an hour drive outside of his presence would probably do you good. Climbing up into the other SUV, you take a deep breath, feeling all the restlessness of the night before creep up on you.

–X–

You don’t know where you are, but you know that you’re burning up under his touch. His lips are on your skin, working their way down from your neck to the valley between your breasts and all you can hear is the sound of your own lustful moans as his hands trail further still. 

You don’t know who it is on top of you, but you know that you’re dying for him to be there, to push his tongue into your mouth and make you submit to his will. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your panties and roughly pull them down, opening you up to him. You feel his lips ghost down further still, until he’s there between your legs. 

“Is this where you wanted me, baby? So desperate to have me, my little slut.” His words send another shiver down your spine as you roll your hips up into his face again. 

He lets out a small chuckle and gives you what you want, finally lowering his tongue again and letting it meet your desperate cunt. He sets his attention on your clit, and your eyes roll back in bliss, not caring who it is between your legs giving you this much pleasure, just desperate for them to keep going. 

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, fisting a handful of your mystery man’s hair. It’s soft to the touch, a little curly at the ends and it feels familiar, but you’re unable to think about it for more than a second before he’s pushing a finger into you. 

“That’s it baby. Look at you, so fucking tight around my finger. You want me to push my cock into you, you’re going to have to relax for me baby, okay?” You still don’t know who it is, but you nod for him, knowing you want nothing except everything he’s telling you that you want. 

He’s thrusting his fingers into you at a relentless pace now, adding one digit every few thrusts, until he’s up to three. His face is still buried in your pussy, tongue still flicking against your clit, his other hand pushing you down by the hips as he forces you closer and closer to the edge. 

His hand drops down to your thigh, pushing your legs further apart, and it stays there feeling overly warm, almost burning you up from just that simple touch. 

“You’re so wet for me baby, going to take my cock now?” You whimper and nod your head as fervently as you can, begging him with your eyes to push into you. He finally pulls his head up to your own, and you’re finally face-to-face with your mystery man. 

“So wet for me, right baby? So wet for your husband?” Spencer questions you as he pushes into your wet, dripping hole, and you’re so surprised that all you can do in response is moan. 

With each thrust, he drops a moan into your ears, and you feel your climax building quickly. 

“Ah fuck yes, Y/N,” you claw at his back, desperate to pull him closer. 

“Spencer, don’t stop, fuck.” Your name begins dropping from his lips like a prayer as his thrusts get sloppier, wetter, deeper. 

“Y/N… Y/N……… Y/N….” 

–X– 

“Y/N, are you finally awake? We’ve been calling your name for a minute now.” Your eyes snap open and you come face to face with Emily and JJ from the seats opposite you on the jet. 

“We thought you might be having a nightmare. Want to talk about it?” JJ asks, her voice in a hushed tone as a look of sympathy crosses over her face. 

Whatever that was, it certainly was not a nightmare. But the scenario you were in now certainly was. 

“What? Oh, yeah. I don’t know, maybe it was a nightmare.” You desperately hope you sound convincing enough for them to drop the subject. The last time you’d mentioned a lack of sleep, half of the team had approached you with different home remedies and tips for getting your full 8 hours. The last thing you needed right now was the constant reminder that you’d just had a sex dream about Spencer Reid on the jet whilst surrounded by all your close friends and colleagues. 

Including the man himself, you realised, as you stretched your neck out from its awkward sleep position, and caught the sight of him there next to you. Your car had reached the jet first earlier that day, and it had taken all of two minutes after boarding before you’d been claimed by sleep, so you hadn’t realised he’d positioned himself next to you. 

A quick glance down had told you he’d done more than that. Wrapped around your legs, and so big that it stretched over his too, was a large blanket, the one that he usually used on your longer trips home. He was asleep in the seat next to you, you noticed after an embarrassing amount of time, head resting in one of his hands, lips slightly open, looking the image of tranquillity. 

His other hand was beneath the blanket, somewhere you couldn’t see, but as you shifted slightly in your chair trying to get comfortable again, you realised it was definitely somewhere you could feel. His hand had somehow fallen into your lap, and he had a firm but sleepy grip on your left thigh, the one closest to him. Now that you had moved, so did his hand, rubbing gentle strokes into your skin every few minutes. Slow enough that you were sure he was still asleep, but still enough to have am effect.

His hand was hot against your leg, and his touch burned. You remembered the sensation from your dream and immediately did your best to temper your facial expressions, not wanting to gather any more concern from the two women opposite you at the table than you already had. 

“Y/N? If you want to talk about it, we’re always here you know? This job can be overwhelming at the best of times, and we just worked a hard case. No one would blame you for needing to take some time for yourself.” Emily looked at you in concern now, and it was taking all of your will to keep your eyes on her, and nod at the appropriate time, your brain short-circuiting now that you realised Reid was so close. 

Where did this sudden infatuation with him come from? You’d always appreciated that he was a good looking guy, but you’d never thought about him so thoroughly before, and certainly not enough to lose yourself on the jet to inappropriate thoughts. 

It was the insanity of the weekend, you told yourself, it had to be. You’d learnt more about him and accidentally, possibly, maybe slept together, and now your body was just getting it out of your system. Either that or you’d just learnt too much about his preferences and your brain was just trying to come to terms with each revelation. 

You settled back into comfortable conversation with Emily and JJ, trying your best to convince yourself that your dream had meant nothing, blocking out any noise in your head that was suggesting otherwise. 

Especially the little thought at the back of your brain that was reminding you that you hadn’t removed his hand from your thigh, and that you really didn’t want to. 

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[thehistoriccemetery]

Bg3 Ladies React to Old Scars

Featuring: Shadowheart, Karlach, Minthara, and Jaheira

Something finally made it out of the bottomless pit that is my drafts! This was requested a couple times by several people so thank you to all who suggested it!

Shadowheart

She lies in bed next to you, absently tracing your bare back.

She always traces your scars. She’s tells you they are like constellations, worthy of as much worship as the night sky itself.

Tonight, though, she pays special attention to your biggest one, running vertically down your lower back, disappearing only under the seam of your underwear.

This is her tell tale sign she wants the story. She won’t ask or push you to tell, but this is simply her way of telling you she’s ready to hear it, if you’re willing to share.

“That one is…” you trail off and her tracing stills, “a lot. Not that I’m not willing to share, I just need you to know what you’re asking for.”

She places both her hands gently on your shoulders and kisses the top of your spine. You turn to face her and she takes your face in her hands.

“There is no part of your darkness I’m not willing to explore, love,” she whispers. She takes your hand in hers and softly kisses the knuckles.

You take a deep breath, nod, and tell your story. She does not let go of your hand. She doesn’t flinch when you find even the most gruesome details slipping from your tongue.

You hadn’t planned to go as deep as you did. But something about the peace you found in her green eyes compelled you. It was as if they were saying “you can let go now, you are safe.”

So you did. You let yourself fall. And now, lying in bed next to your lover, you were caught.

When you were done, you found yourself unexpectedly gasping for air, not so dissimilar to after climbing a steep hill with too much equipment on your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” she cooed, pulling you against her chest. You find yourself able to match her breathing.

“Thank you for sharing, I know it was not easy,” she kisses your head.

You shake your head into her chest. “I found it was not so hard with you. It doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. Perhaps it’s a burden shared and all that.”

She chuckles a little. “Sometimes you’re terribly cliché, darling. But, I cannot say I disagree. I was taught to find comfort in all recesses of darkness and absence, but, despite my best efforts, I was never able to find comfort in isolation.”

“And what a miracle we’ve found,” you move back to look into her eyes and smile. “A radiant love to pierce the shared darkness.”

Shadowheart smiles and presses her forehead against yours. “I love you. I’ve even grown to love the way you weave your poetic little metaphors.”

“I love you too,” you chuckle and kiss her nose. “And you’ve always loved my over complicated metaphors.”

Karlach

Karlach sat on the bed behind you, who sat cross legged at the foot, reading.

She took the time to examine your largely bare back, as your current outfit left little to the imagination.

Your body, just like hers was painted with scars. You were both mosaics of your past who had no choice to hide the traumas you endured.

She frowns and you feel a tail coil tight around your waist, pulling you back to sit against her. You look over your shoulder to see her, and then scoot yourself in between her legs and rest your back against her chest.

She wraps her big arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder. You hook your arm around her neck and place your hand in her hair.

“Is something wrong, love?” you whisper, kissing the space right next to her long ear.

“Sometimes, I wish things were simpler,” she sighs. “I mean I love smashing the baddies as much as the next guy, but… I wish getting sucked up by the squidies and forced to carry tadpoles wasn’t the best thing to ever happen to us.”

You nod, rubbing your face against hers. “We were born to be fighters, but I wish we hadn’t been forced to be soldiers.”

“It’s like, I love my little nub right? My dad always said it made me look strong. But,” she touches her own chest, “did she have to put her name on my chest?”

“And you, and your…” she traces the branding scar on your collar bone. You catch her hand in yours and press it gently against your lips.

You turn to face her, the pain in her eyes makes your chest tighten. “These bodies,” you gesture between the two of you, “these are ours. Forever. They can’t take that away from us.”

Her hand lands back on your scar. You press your forehead against hers. “And they,” you trace your own scar with her finger. “They can’t take me away from you.”

She pulls you in for a tight hug. You’re almost smothered in her chest.

You knew that even the idea that there was something she couldn’t protect you from was nauseating to her. The idea that she wouldn’t always be there to protect was even worse.

“It’s not fair,” she half cries into your hair. “Why can’t this life be ours forever?”

You take her face in her hands. Sometimes, Karlach beautiful optimism had its limits. It seemed she hit one today.

“It’s not over yet,” you remind her. “We still have choices. We just gotta save the entire world first.”

She smiles weakly. “Save the world. Save each other. Then we can have our little future together.”

You nod. “And we’re gonna adopt the meanest fucking goat Faerûn has ever seen.”

Minthara

One evening, just outside of Baldur’s gate, you and Minthara decided to take advantage of one of the several nooks and crannies Wyrm’s lookout had to offer.

She sat on the elevated edge of one of the abandoned watchtowers, the one you had climbed to after leaving the shadowlands.

You knelt at her feet, looking up at your beautiful goddess of a lover, smiling, naked in the evening glow.

She looks down at you and idly traces a scar that dances across your chest before taking your hand and holding it up to her own chest.

“We match. Feel,” she leads your finger to a short raised scar towards the top of her breast. It is shorter than yours, but likely just as traumatic.

“Such placement, yes? Just above the source of our lives,” she says. “Scars such as these are rarely from battle, as the armor is heavy around the chest.”

She stares wistfully off into the distance, holding your hand over her beating heart. You’re awestruck by her trust in you. To take a place that was once betrayed and allow you to hold it in your hand.

“Would you like to see? Where it came from?” She asks. You nod, and then you feel the familiar tadpole urging you into her mind. You enter.

She shows you everything: her mother, the betrayal, the hurt. It’s almost enough to bring you to tears.

When the vision fades, you see her eyes already fixed on your own. Her hands presses over your heart. She senses the hesitation in your eyes even before you feel it.

“It is okay,” she says. “If you don’t want to go back there I will not push you to do so.”

After a moment, your hand closes around the one she’s placed on your chest. “I can do it. As long as you are with me.”

You close your eyes, allowing her into your mind. You flinch and grit your teeth as you recall the horrors that gave you your scar.

It’s odd, as if the your pasts, like your scars, mirror each other in some way. Two who have been betrayed find trust in one another.

“I do not believe in destiny,” she says plainly. “I do not think things are, ‘mean to be’, as they say. I do not think I have found and loved you in every life.” She takes your face into her hands. “But I am grateful that I have you in this one.”

Jaheira

To Jaheira, scars are simply props to tell kickass hero stories. She takes pride in nearly every one she’s earned.

And she is an excellent storyteller. So everyone is always excited and intrigued to hear them.

You’ve found a lot of confidence and freedom in this mindset: a scar as a prize rather than an imperfection.

However, not all of your scars have the story of hero behind them.

And that just happens to be the case for the long scar that runs across your shoulders, from one to the other.

“What is this one’s story?” She asks while doing your hair one afternoon. “It is from very long ago, yes?”

You nod, carefully not to disturb her hair fixing process. “How can you tell?”

“It has grown up with you,” she answers, though you still don’t know exactly what she means. She goes into more detail. “The scar was not originally this big because you were not this big when you received it.”

“I suppose I was not,” you respond. You nervously play with your fingers. “That one doesn’t have any heroic stories though. You rarely get a hero’s scar on your back.”

She pauses dealing with your hair and bends down to kiss your back. “You were a child. You should not have had to be a hero.”

Your eyes prick with tears. The story had only ever filled you with shame, yet you felt compelled to tell Jaheira anyway.

She continued to silently work on your hair, listening as you spoke.

She finished your hair before you were finished, and move to sit in front of you while you spoke. You hid your face away as you completed your story.

When you were finished, she took your chin in her hands. “Sometimes surviving is the most heroic thing one can do.”

[jiesqi]

first post gulp still deciding on a title!

pairing: re4 leon kennedy x fem!reader

synopsis: a lazy afternoon turns into playful chaos when you convince your boyfriend to recreate some video you just saw on your phone — does he give in? or not?.

wc:??? forgot to count xoxo

cw: tooth rotting fluff, domestic chaos, not proofread apologies for any mistakes, heart squeeze!!1!1

note: i’ve been seeing these videos a lot on my fyp and i literally cannot stop imagining leon kennedy to them, so! i decided to write my first ever post (yes, first, hello world) about this. enjoy!

⸻

it was one of those slow, lazy evenings.

your boyfriend has finally returned from the brutalities of his work. luckily he managed to get home early so you took the opportunity to melt into him, your head resting on your boyfriend’s thigh, alongside the soft patters of the rain that added to the comfort. his fingers gently scratching through your hair in that way that made your brain shut off in the best way.

videos played on your phone, random, chaotic—none of them mattered, getting cut off with each swipe.

until, a video of a couple.

some couple.

almost like you and leon.

the girl lying on her boyfriend’s arm.

the guy flexing his bicep.

the girl’s face? smashed.

you? wild.

feral even. leon well aware of how physique-matised you are.

you tilted your head up, giving leon a mischievous little grin. he groaned mockingly. “another one?” he has not skipped one couple trend and it’s all thanks to your insistence

you shamelessly grinned wider “pleeeeease?” giving him those doe eyes. the ones he never stood a chance against.

now you were upright, both hands squishing his arm with dangerous intent. he sighed, the kind of sigh that meant he was already giving in. “come on then. got no time to waste.”

you giggled like a silly teenage girl with a silly little crush — though in your case, that crush never passed away, and definitely wasn’t little. you got into position: head on bicep, phone ready, face primed.

his arm stayed soft for a moment. a decoy.

and then—BOOM. his bicep flexed, and your face? obliterated. cheeks squished, mouth muffled, eyes sparkling as you let out the happiest squeal known to mankind.

he released you, and you immediately turned to him. “again.”

“that’s enough.”

“agaainnnn,” you whined, jabbing his bicep like a stubborn child poking dessert.

he smirked, shaking his head. “don’t get pouty on me now sweetheart, you’ve had your time.” and then, as always, he pulled you into his lap—tucking you in like you were a blanket he couldn’t live without.

you pouted anyway, cheek squished to his chest.

“you hate me and want me dead”

he chuckled lightly and just looked down at you with that stupidly soft expression you pretended not to live for.

“you are the most ridiculous girl I’ve ever met,” he said, brushing hair from your face then playfully squishing your cheek.

you pouted more, burying your fave further into his chest in annoyance as he chuckled lightly.

he placed a kiss on your head. then rested his against yours. he felt you smile against his broad chest.

and that was it. you, wrapped up in the embrace of your beloved who appreciates your every pout and poke and ridiculous little moment.

love is loud sometimes. other times, it’s just a bicep to the face and a kiss to the forehead.

⸻

© est 2025. jiesqi — do not steal

[writtenbyan-aries]

Summary: The obx bonfire get a whole lot hotter when John B’s ex comes back to town from studying abroad - just in time for his breakup with Sarah.

Warnings: smut, google translations, swearing, drinking, ex!John B, unprotected sex, hair pulling, biting, scratching, hair pulling, general filth

Word Count: 3k | unedited (I’ve been in a funk - sorry if this sucks)

_ . . . . . . . ︿ ❀ ︿ . . . . . . . _

Your return to Kildare wasn’t a surprise for some.

Your close friends, and family have anticipated your return since you told them a few days prior. You’ve been in France for the last year, studying abroad for school.

You’ve been kept up to date on the normal things. Your friend’s day to day lives, your father’s business, and so on. But one thing you were really interested in, was whether or not the ex you left behind, was going to be surprised to see you.

John B was your boyfriend prior to you leaving. It was a mutual decision, mainly because you both knew you’d be too busy in France, so you mutually ended things.

You were on good terms, and then a few weeks into your year, he pretty much ghosted you. It wasn’t until a few days later that you were told he was now seeing Sarah Cameron.

“Oh my god! Hi!” You ran to your friends, attempting to hug them all at one time, “It feels so weird being back here.” You step back, looking around, “How are you?”

“We’re so happy to have you back, there’s so much that we didn’t tell you because we needed to tell you in person!” Nicole sighs, “Oh I’m so happy you’re home.”

“How was Paris, the city of love?” Sloane giggles, “Meet any cute French boys.”

You smirk, giving them a shrug, “Je n’embrasse pas et ne dis pas.”

They both look at you and you laugh, “I do not kiss, and I do not tell.” You walk with them to the car, “Oh I cannot wait to sleep in my own bed.”

The girls laugh and you give them a weird look, “What’s so funny?”

“You’re not coming to the bonfire tonight?” Nicole asks, “It’ll be a great welcome home party for you.”

You shrug, “I’m kind of tired. Might just go to bed early tonight. You know, jet lag.” Sloane sighs, “I can’t hold it in anymore. We need to tell her.”

“Tell me what?” You look at them confused and Nicole looks back are you, “John B is going.” You raise your brows, “Isn’t he with Sarah?” You roll your eyes and Sloane cuts in, “Not anymore. That’s what we wanted to tell you. A few days ago, I seen Sarah walking around with Topper.”

“Topper!?”

“Uh huh.” Nicole nods, “They seemed really close, but I don’t know. That’s why you need to go tonight.”

Your mind starts going on about why he didn’t tell you, or even want to reach out to you. Why did he ghost you at all? A part of you did want to see him, but then another part of you wanted to just stay home, let him come to you, if that’s even what he wanted to do.

You made it back to your house after a car ride full of France talk, “Well pick you up around five. It starts at six.” You give them a nod, “Sounds good.” You huffed as you wheeled your luggage to the door.

As soon as you walked through the doors, your mom instantly ran to you, “There she is!” She wraps you in a tight hug, “Honey! Y/n is home!”

Your father comes out and you do the whole thing you did with your friends all over again. France talk, what you saw, what you did.

You managed to slip away up to your room, letting out a sigh as you lay on your bed. As you turn your head, you crack a small smile at the picture of you and John B that’s pinned to your bulletin board.

You sit up, reaching over to snag it from its place. You study it remembering all of the good times you had before you left.

Your phone went off and a part of you was hoping it was John B, to which, it was Nicole, I know it’s going to be a lot, but I just got word that Sarah and Topper will def be going to the bonfire.

You glance at the picture one last time before you text her back, I’ll be ready by 5.

_ . . . . . . . ︿ ❀ ︿ . . . . . . . _

You stepped out of the car, hair blowing in the wind as the noise of waves crashing and people chattering fill your ears.

Sloane walks around and nudges you, “You’ll be fine.”

“I know.” You nod, “I’m just- being in France for a year, and then coming back here. It’s a change, really.” She nods, “I’m sure, but just keep your eyes on the prize, and that’s making John B’s eyes pop out of his head.”

You laugh as you nod, “Sounds like a plan to me. I need a drink.”

You make your way down the hill, the fire coming into view and someone turns on music. You dance around with your friends, laughing and enjoying the start of the night.

A little bit later, you notice someone sitting alone by the fire, a crushed beer can in his hand. You look at Nicole, “I’ll be right back.” You walk over to the cooler and grab two fresh beers before walking over to John B.

“You look like you need one of these.” You extend your hand out and his head snaps up to look at you, “Oh.. my god.” he takes the can as he stands up, “What- I- hi.”

“Hi.” You smile, “Long time no see, huh?” You open your can and take a sip. He stares at you, “I thought.. I thought you were in France?”

“le temps passe vite, John B.” You smirk and he shakes his head with a smile, “The only thing I got out of that was my name.”

You laugh slightly, “Time flies, John B.”

He takes a deep breath, “Yeah, sure does.” He tilts his head, “I, um. I owe you an apology.” You furrow your brows, “For what?” You fight back a smirk as he looks at you, “I think you know what.”

“Oh, are you talking about how we had a mutual break up and then a few weeks later you ghosted me to shack up with Sarah Cameron, kook princess?” You act shocked, “Yeah I mean, not like you couldn’t just tell me or anything.”

He looks around, “Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking. She uh, we.. broke up a few days ago.”

“So I’ve heard.” You flick your brows up as you take another sip of your beer, “Sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs, “I don’t know what I was expecting, really.”

You sit down, “Yeah. I mean.. She’s pretty and all that.” You look over at him as he sits down, “You were left high and dry, so.. I get it.”

He shakes his head as he opens his can, “Not as pretty as you.” You roll your eyes, “Flattering me wont get you anywhere, JB.” You glance over at him with a smirk and he squints at you, “You sure?” You shrug, “I mean, maybe.”

“Well, in that case. Looks like I have a lot of flattering to do.” He chuckles and you tilt your head, “I don’t know, a lot can change in a year.”

“Ooh, can it?” He sighs, “Damn.”

You smile, shaking your head as you look at the fire. You look back at John B, taking in how he looks within the orange glow of the blaze, “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I-“ he shrugs, “I don’t know, you were there, I was here.. I was stupid?” He laughs and you crack a smile, “I mean, you said it. Not me.” You take a sip of your drink and your eyes land on Sarah.

And she’s looking directly at you. You look back at John B, “Looks like we’ve been spotted.” He looks around, stopped when he spots her, “Yeah.” He looks over at you, “Come on.” He puts his hand on your lower back as you both stand up, nudging you to walk away.

As you make your way around to the cars, you hear Sarah yell at John B, “Really, John B?“ He turns around, “Aren’t you doing the same thing?” Sarah shake her head, “Topper and I are just friends.”

“Well then, in that case, y/n and I are just friends, so.”

You look from Sarah to John B and he nods, “Come on.” You turn, walking away with him and he points, “I can drive.”

“How much have you had to drink?” You look up at him and he shrugs, “One beer that JJ made me shotgun and a few sips of yours.” You nod, “Okay.” You get in after he opens the door and he walks around to get in himself.

“We can go to my house, my parents are at a dinner benefit thing. Won’t be back until later on.” You look at him, “If that’s okay?”

He nods, “That’s good. I want to talk, anyway.”

“Yeah, seems like we have a lot of catching up to do.”

He takes a deep breath, “I forgot when you were coming back. I didn’t think it was this soon.” He looks over at you, “I’m glad you’re back, though.”

“Yeah, it was today.” You laugh, “Feels weird. After spending a year in France, this place makes me feel like an outcast.” You look out the window, “But it’s home, you know?”

“I haven’t been anywhere outside of Kildare, so.. I don’t really know, but what I do know, is that I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Whys that?” You ask, looking over at him. He shrugs, “I guess I just wanted to see you.”

“But you didn’t know I was coming?” You furrow your brows and John B laughs, “I guess I’m just nervous, cause I know what I did, and how I handled things..” he looks over at you, “but now that you’re here, I know that I shouldn’t have jumped into whatever that was with Sarah.” He shakes his head, “She wasn’t.. it wasn’t what I wanted.”

“What did you want?”

“You.”

You take a deep breath, “the first thing Nicole asked me was how many French guys I got with.”

“Uh, okay.. I don’t see-“

“I told her that I don’t kiss and tell, but the real answer is that I kept thinking about you. I kept-“ you cover your mouth, “This is insane, but I kept looking for a French version of you.”

He raises his brows, trying to stifle back his laughter but he fails. He pulls into your driveway and laughs hard, “Oh.. my god.”

“Don’t judge me. You were looking for me in little miss kook princess, were you not?” You turn to face him, “Speaking of, what did you see of me in her? We aren’t even remotely the same.”

“Guess I just needed something to fill the void.” He leans back and sighs, “I don’t know.”

You look over at him, rolling your eyes with a smile as you open the door, “Come on.” You get out and walk up to your door. You unlock it and push the door open, John B following behind.

You go towards the steps and look back. He looks around and you laugh, “What?”

He shakes his head, “Shocks me how pretty this place always is.” He walks up to you and you shrug, “I kind of hate it.”

“Maybe we should move in with me.” He smirks and you raise your brows, “Petits pas, JB. Je reviens de Paris.”

He stares at you as he slowly walks up the steps, “Again, no idea what you just said.”

“Small steps, JB. I just got back from Paris.” You look back as you push the door to your room open and walk in. He follows you, closing it behind him, “So how much time do you think we have?”

“Three hours tops.” You sit on your bed and lean back as you kick your shoes off.

He looks around, stopping as he sees the picture of you two, “You kept this?” You nod, “Why wouldn’t I?” He shrugs, “Just wondering.” He sits down next to you, leaning back, “Tell me something in French.”

You laugh, “What do you want to hear?”

He shrugs, “Anything, it sounds pretty.” He reaches up, brushing hair from your face.

You take a deep breath, “Je n'ai jamais cessé de t'aimer.” You look into his eyes and he tilts his head, “Translation, please?”

You smirk, “I have never stopped loving you.”

“How do you say, me too, and I really want to kiss you right now?” He licks his lips and you look away to think, “It’s um, hold on.” You pause, looking back at him, “Moi aussi. Is me too, and je veux que tu m'embrasses is I want you to kiss me.”

He smiles and leans in, “Moi aussi.” His hand slides up to grab your neck to pull you in towards him. Your lips crash onto his and it was instant fire.

He rolls over, his body hovering over yours as he kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back as his teeth graze your skin, “You still like that? I know a lot can change in a year.” He smirks and you nod, “I like anything you do, except-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, “Can we save all comments and concerns until the end, please?”

You nod, pulling him back in.

His hand slides down to your skirt, pushing it up. His fingers hooking into the band of your underwear and he sits up to pull them down your legs.

He glances up at you, his lip pulled between his teeth. His hands slide down your thighs, pushing them open before dropping down to his knees. He slides his hands under, pulling you towards him, and he wastes no time connecting his mouth to your clit.

You let out a gasp, hand sliding to the back of his head, “Fuck, yes.” You watch him, brows knitted together as you watch him devour you for the first time in over a year.

Your whines and whimpers filled the room as your fingers drug his hair into your grasp. Your eyes roll back and close as his tongue works in and out of you, “F-fuck.”

He tilts his head back, eyes locking into yours as you open them and you pull him up, attacking his lips. You slide your hands up, working to undo each button on his shirt. Once it’s open, you push it over his shoulders and he takes it off.

Your hands roam his bare chest, sliding down to slip into the band of his shorts.

He sits up, pushing down his shorts, along with his boxers and you smirk as you move up the bed. You reach out for him as he crawls up, lips on his as he slowly slides into you.

You both pause, gasping as you feel him slide into you fully, “I’ve missed you.”

He nods, “Missed you more.” He presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans. His thrusts are slow, allowing him to feel every inch of you wrapped around him, “Missed making you sound like this.”

His thrusts pick up, earning more moans from you, “Feels so good, please don’t stop.”

He trails kisses up your neck, groaning lowly, “Fuck, I don’t ever wanna stop.” His lips press to yours and he rolls over, watching as you sit up to pick up on his thrusts.

Your hands press into his chest, keeping you steady as you bring your hips up and down.

“That’s it, baby.” He groans, his hands tightening their grip on your hips, “Fuck, yes.” You lean down, one hand on his cheek as you move your lips with his. You gently bite down on his lip, smirking as he gasps, “You still like that, huh?”

“Only when you do it.” He smirks, pulling you back in.

You slide your hand up, running it through his hair before sitting back up. You tilt your head, moaning out as you grind down onto him, “F-fuck, m’so close.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” He assures, “C’mon.”

Your eyes flutter closed as you feel that sense of pleasure rush through your body, moan out loudly as you guide yourself through your high.

His hands slide up to your waist, arm moving around to roll you over onto your back. His lips connect to yours, muffling your moans as he thrusts quickly. His hand presses to your cheek, a grunt slipping from his lips as his hips stutter, “Almost there.”

You pull him back in to kiss, gasping as you feel him slip out. You reach down, stroking his cock as he cums.

He rests his forehead against yours, taking a few breathes before lifting his head to press a kiss. You sit up as he stands up, “So what did you want to talk about?” You stand up to undress, “Or is that what you meant?”

“Little bit of both.” He chuckles as he pulls up his shorts, “I mean, doing that wasn’t first on my to do list, but it was on there.”

You nod, “Yeah. Same here.” You laugh, “I knew as soon as I seen you I’d fold like a lawn chair.”

He smirks, eyes scanning down over your body as you change. His brows furrow, “You kept that?” You turn around, looking down at the shirt that was once his, “John B, you act like we hated each other and I was supposed to burn all of your stuff.”

“I guess you do have a point there.” He tilts his head with a smile, “So, I guess that leads-“

You walk over, pressing your lips to his, “tout revient à toi.”

“I’m going to assume that’s you saying yes to us?” He squints, his hands on your hips, and you nod, “Yeah, pretty much.” You smile, leaning in to kiss him.

_ . . . . . . . ︿ ❀ ︿ . . . . . . . _

I’m got gonna lie, I’ve been in a writing funk for the last few days. Everything I’ve written I hated, but I forced myself to finish this, hoping I can snap back into the swing of things. If this sucked, I’m sorry. But thank you for reading away! I love you so much, and I will catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[starryevermore]

love's never lost when perspective is earned ✧ cardan greenbriar

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader

request: I happened to stumble upon your Tumblr too and I saw some of your rules regarding requests, I don’t know if it’s proper to do it here or on your tumblr because I’ve never truly requested something, hahaha. But would you mind doing another continuation to this? A smut continuation of their wedding night? I have a feeling you’d manage to do such an amazing work- AllyLover2014

summary: and he won’t confess that he waited, but he let the lamp burned. as the fae masqueraded, he hoped she’d return. with her feet on the ground, tell him all that she’d learned.

word count: 1,910

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), dual povs, not proofread

PART ONE | PART TWO 

Cardan’s tail swished at his feet. From across the room, he watched as you danced with Jude. A smile tugged at his lips. His wife and his best friend. What luck he had been afforded for the two incredible women in his life to get along so well? He knew, of course, that you would. In your time at school, you often admonished Cardan for any cruel tricks he played on Jude. She didn’t deserve that treatment, you’d always say. Be better, because I know you can be. You were the only person he would allow to speak to him like that. After all, you were the only person who thought him above the part he played. If all of Elfhame thought him cruel, you saw him for he truly was. Jude, eventually, came to see that too—both your kindness and the mask Cardan wore.

You caught his eye and smiled. Cardan watched as you took Jude’s hand, gently urging her out of the swarm of dancing fae. She smiled appreciatively at you. It was difficult for humans to find their way out of these revels. If you were not watching out for her, Jude might have danced until she died. 

“You didn’t have to stop,” Cardan said as you approached him. Jude slipped away to the refreshment table.

“I cannot stand to be apart from you. I’ve had enough of a fill of that for a lifetime,” you said. Cardan’s heart soared. Your arms wrapped around his waist, and your head came to rest against his chest. “Besides, I think Jude was beginning to tire.”

“I do not plan to let you stray from my side for a long time.” Cardan’s tail wrapped around you and pulled you closer. If Cardan could achieve it, he would mould you against him so that you never could leave again. “I am glad you and Jude are friends now. She has so few she feels she can trust.”

“As am I.” Your smile faltered for a moment. So quick that Cardan might not have noticed it if he hadn’t committed himself to memorizing every part of you. He reached up, thumb tugging at the corner of your lips so that the smile might remain in place. “May I confess something?”

“Anything.”

You took a breath. You did not speak immediately. Instead, you took the time to straighten the crown that rested against his brow. “I left because I thought Jude was the one you cared for. After you were crowned High King, you were seldom from her side. It broke my heart to think that I had lost your favor. I would step aside for your happiness, but I could stand by and watch it happen.”

Cardan’s tail wrapped tighter around you. You would not run again, but he couldn’t stop the fear from sinking deep into his veins. “I was scared that you would not like the crown I wore. Jude took a liking to tell me how ridiculous I was acting. Truthfully, I think she liked that too much because it was the one thing that we could always agree.”

“Why did you wait so long then?”

Cardan laughed. “I may have agreed with Jude that I was being ridiculous, but it did little to quell the fear that you would not want me.”

“Well, whatever she said to convince you to act, I am grateful. Even if it did send me running.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Cardan smiled. “In some ways, I think we both needed it. Who knows how long we may have skirted around our feelings still.”

He combed your fingers through your hair and pulled you in for a searing kiss. He loved this. He loved being your husband. Cardan no longer had to pace the floors of the palace, wondering if he could confess to you his feelings. He no longer had to dream of what it would feel for you to be in his arms, for it was now his reality. And as you moaned against his mouth, Cardan decided he would commit every moment of his long life to bringing you as much pleasure as you have already brought him. It was his duty as your husband after all. 

“Let us retire,” he said, parting from you long enough for a breath.

“It is our wedding celebration. People will talk if we leave too soon,” you said, but your voice was filled with enough lust that he knew you didn’t truly mean a single word. 

“Let them talk, and let Jude run them through with her sword for disrespecting their Queen and King.”

You smiled up at him, and Cardan stole another kiss. “Whisk me away, my love.”

The entire walk up to your shared chambers, Cardan’s tail swished behind him in excitement.

Sex and nakedness are not regarded the same in Faerie as it is in the human lands. Yet, watching as Cardan undressed before you had you positively giddy. It had you even forgetting that you were supposed to undress, too, until your husband was reaching around you, skillfully undoing the laces of your dress with his nimble fingers. 

“You are beautiful,” you whisper, running your hand down his chest to his stomach. “The most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

Cardan grinned. “And to think you tried to deprive yourself of such beauty,” he teased. He kissed your brow, dragged his lips down to your ear. His breath was warm as he whispered, “I should be quite upset, you know, that you tried to deprive me of your beauty.”

Wordlessly, you sank down to your knees. The wood was cool against your skin. A nice contrast to how warm your arousal was making you. Cardan watched you, his mouth falling open to release a shuddering breath as you took his cock in your hands. “Shall I repent, my husband?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Any sign of his teasing had disappeared the moment you touched him. You wondered if he had always been so affected by you. You wondered how blind you must have been to miss it for all these years. “You may do to me as you please,” he breathed out.

Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips, before you took him into your mouth. As you looked up at your husband through your lashes, Cardan looked as though he might just fall apart under your touch. Pride settled in your veins. Neither you nor Cardan were strangers to pleasures of the flesh, but you were certain that no one could make him feel as you were now. You released him with a pop! and began to kiss down his length.

Cardan’s fingers found purchase in your hair. His grip tightened as you ran your tongue up the underside of his cock, taking time to flick over a rather prominent vein. But before you could take him fully in your mouth again, Cardan was pulling you away, gently nudging you back to your feet. 

“Was that not to your liking, husband?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. 

“I will not allow you to steal all the fun, wife,” he said. Cardan gathered you in his arms, carrying you the short distance to the bed and laid you down. He settled between your legs, which he had hiked over his shoulders. You reached down, brushing stray curls from his eyes. “It is my wedding night, too, after all.”

“Ah, yes, but what is that the humans say? Happy wife, happy life?”

Jude had been quite happy to share that one little line with you. Having grown up in Faerie, there was little she remembered from her time in the human lands. But she remembered that, and she shared it with you so that you could add it to your arsenal of things to make Cardan putty in your hands. 

“Oh, I fully intend to make you happy,” Cardan declared before diving in. 

Cardan ate your cunt as if he were a starved man. His tongue lapped at you, collecting your arousal as if it were the sweet nectar of an everapple. Just as he had you, your hand found its own wound through his silky curls. But where he had pulled you away, you drew him in closer. You could feel his smirk when he took your sensitive bud between his lips. 

You breathed out his name, chanted it as if it were the most precious oath. Recited it as though it were your vows to him. A cord deep in your stomach began to tighten, tauter and tauter until it finally snapped. Your chants became a scream.

Your husband emerged from your trembling thighs with a triumphant smile. He crawled up your body until he was draped over you like a blanket. Safe and secure within his arms. Cardan’s forehead rest against yours. His breath tickled your face, but you found delight in the sensation. His every breath was yours, and so yours were his. 

“I feel as though I am in debt to you,” you teased. “How can you let me finish, but not allow me the same pleasure?”

Cardan smiled. His tail dipped between your bodies, wrapped itself around your leg. “Your debt shall be paid soon enough,” he swore. 

You barely processed Cardan pressing his cock into you until the gasp escaped your lips. It had been a long while since you laid with anyone. You had forgotten how delicious that stretch felt. Acting of their own accord, your legs locked around his hips, keeping his thrusts shallow as he began to move. You pulled Cardan in for another kiss and did not let him pull away. 

His moans melted into your own. “I love you,” he chanted. His fingers intertwined with your own. “I adore you. I am yours to command.”

“Mm, don’t stop,” you said. And as though he were yours to command, he did as told, his thrusts beginning to grow sloppy. “I love you.”

Cardan gasped, and you felt him finish. He continued to thrust into you, one hand leaving yours to press against the still sensitive bud. He rolled it between his fingers, urging that taught cord to snap again. As though you were his to command, it did, and the tidal wave of ecstasy washed over your once more. 

“I love you!” you shouted, because nothing better encapsulated this feeling than those three simple words. 

Your husband came to rest against your chest, his ear pressed against the spot above your heart. He nipped at the skin of your breast until you scratched your nails against his scalp. His tail had unwound itself from your thigh, taking to swish softly in the air above you.

“I am glad I came home to you,” you said. “I am glad you did not let me stay away.”

Cardan lifted his head, a sleepy smile tugged at his lips. “I would run after you every day if it meant I got to have you in my arms for even a moment.”

“I shall never run again,” you swore.

“But then whom shall I chase through the palace?”

“I may run then,” you conceded. 

Content, Cardan rested against your chest once more. His breaths soon turned shallow, and a quiet snore echoed through the room. You followed soon after, because there was nothing in this life you would do without your husband at your side. 

[nuetralizedevangelist]

❝in that lavender haze❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- hear me out! lavender haze with tom 🤭

| A/N- done and done. im hearing you out and im listening so hard. i’ve been high probably like hundreds of times but still cannot properly word it sorry 💔

| WARNINGS- marijuana consumption (mega slay), kissing, eating, wine, tiktok, tooth rotting fluff,

(divider by @benkeibear)

the feeling of your lungs being filled with smoke made you giddy, everything with sharp edges turning soft and fuzzy. coughing lightly at the larger hit you’d taken you passed the blunt to your left, to tom.

your eyes fixed on the way his lips wrapped around it and the way he closed his eyes at the sensation. your hopeless crush on your mutual friend with rachel had been developing for months, seeing him at every gathering and meet up.

he was fairly nice and polite, the true english way. you just wished he’d converse with you, more than small talk. you’re laying on your back on the floor and studying the swirling patterns on the ceiling. out of your peripheral vision you see tom lay down next to you.

staring at the ceiling with you, you don’t ever say too much. and you don’t really read into my melancholia.

“you don’t have much to say, do you?” you question into the air hoping that tom would cling on. he hums and says “yeah, i don’t know what you like or what you don’t like so i jus’ say nothing.” you turn your head to face him- all caution thrown to the wind. you find it hard to care about your words in your state. “when i first met you i thought you hated me, you wouldn’t talk to me like how you talked to everyone else. thought i might’ve done something. sometimes i still think that.” you confess and it hangs lowly over both of you.

“i was honestly kind of scared of you. in my head you’re this cool actress who does slashers and everyone loves her. i didn’t wanna say the wrong thing.” you smile and place your hand on your chest. “you think i’m cool? i think you’re cooler, tom.”

his eyes crinkle when he laughs and you love it. you find it hard to decipher where the high ends and where how tom makes you feel starts, but they’re mixing. “i think you’re really cool. you do these cool like artistic horror movies and i’m kind of obsessed with your acting.”

i find it dizzying, they’re bringing up my history. but you aren’t even listening.

the group on the couch and chairs above you pass a bottle of wine and finish off the blunt. your friend laughs loudly and you turn to look at him. “do you remember that time last year when you dated the like entire cast of that one movie? what’s it called? i can’t remember. that was funny as shit.” you cringe and cover your face trying to forget.

tom lightly grazes your shoulder with his finger and whispers “are you hungry? i really want pizza right now.” you smile and nod. he wasn’t going to ask about your questionable past times. he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. “i can’t function enough to order pizza, could you do it?” you happily nod and scroll your way through the menu before you both agree on toppings you both like.

i just wanna stay in that lavender haze. talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral.

the pair had found themselves in a corner, talking and giggling over pizza whilst telling stories. “yeah! and she kept asking when i was going to settle down and get married. during an interview for a horror movie.” tom shakes his head and laughs. “i couldn’t get through one promo or interview without someone showing me at-least one edit of me. it was torture.” you pull your phone out and show him how edits of him had filled your timeline.

“you’re literally everywhere. i’m not complaining but sometimes i want to see something else!” he picks his phone up and shows your his own home page. “i’m sorry i ruined your tiktok, but this might make up for it.” his entire for you page was filled with edits of you and you co-stars from your latest movie.

you laugh and watch them “i had no idea people made edits of me, i feel honored. it’s like a right of passage.” he sets his phone down as well as his pizza. “they only the use the same ten clips of you covered in blood, i need more content.” you place you own pizza down and lean towards him.

“do you wanna know a secret i’m not supposed to tell anyone?” he nods and leans closer. “i’m gonna in the next scream movie and i’m one of the ghostface’s, you’re gonna see me murdering on the big screen.” he raises his eyebrows and you barley take into account how close your faces are.

“i love everything you’re in. when i first met you, i went home and watched everything you’ve done.” he confesses with a smile and red eyes. “i did the exact same thing, rachel told me i was creepy! we’re like each others biggest fans.”

get it off your chest, get it off my desk. that lavender haze, i just wanna stay.

you’re sitting in the bathtub of your bathroom passing a blunt back and forth between you and tom. “it’s so much quieter in here, i love them but they’re so loud.” you say leaning your head back on the tile. he softly chuckles and looks at you. “i can’t believe we could’ve been hanging out for months, i should’ve just talked to you.” you smile and set the blunt in the ashtray you brought with you.

“yeah but where’s the fun in that? this is probably the best night i’ve had in a while.” you turn to look at him and you study his features. you’ve never had a chance to really look at him, your glossy eyes try to memorize each slope and curve of his face.

“can i kiss you?” you whisper out before even realizing you’ve said it. he mutters a small ‘yes’ and you’re leaning in, like your body’s on autopilot. he tastes like weed and pizza, you couldn’t find a bone in your body that cared. you sluggishly manage to inch onto his lap. “you’re so pretty.” he whispers in between kisses. his hands find purchase on your waist, not letting you even dream of getting off of him.

you reluctantly pull back and his lips chase yours. “do you wanna hang out tomorrow?” you ask him with a smile. “i would be honored, maybe i’ll take you out on a real date.” his hands are rubbing small circles on your waist. “the press is gonna love that one.” you mutter out before leaning back into him.

[brotherwtf]

Hi, about the fluffy prompts

Lately I’ve been thinking about insomniac gale who develops a habit of falling asleep on John. Maybe it’s post war buckies, maybe it’s modern AU, where they are roommates but what if gale, who is tortured every night, accidentally falls asleep on John’s shoulder and is absolutely mortified after, but two days and another sleepless night later, Buck sees Bucky on the couch, watching some movie and his shoulder suddenly looks so inviting. “It was an accident, there’s no way I can fall asleep again” but he does and suddenly John becomes his favorite pillow. And John is more than happy to help because he has always been worried about Gale. Oh and what if one night, Gale’s initial plan was to sleep in his own bed, but torturous hours later, he knocks on John’s door, shifting uncomfortably, embarrassed. John takes one look at him and goes “come here”

oh my God this is so cute!! I always hc that Gale has hella sleeping problems, maybe even before the war, and like just CANNOT sleep when the war is over, just plagued with nightmares and sleep paralysis every night

he can't sleep in a bed anymore, as soon as his head hits the pillow he's thinking about German guards rousting him from his sleep, or an officer coming to shake him on the shoulder and tell him he's flying a mission, so he often tries to sleep on a chair or the floor as to not arise those memories, it often doesn't work, whenever he closes his eyes he's reminded of flames and fire and burning men, he hasn't had a restful night in god knows how long

he's a little jealous of how easily John seems to sleep, knows he must be plagued by nightmares as well but never seems to show it, always seems to be rejuvenated and refreshed every morning while Gale still feels like he's dying

he has moments of peace though, what if John came to visit him and Marge before Gale left her and they're both sitting on the couch, dutifully staying out of Marge's way while she makes dinner

maybe Johns just reading or something and Gale can feel his eyes droop with exhaustion in the late summer afternoon, doesn't even realize he's fallen asleep on John's shoulder until he can feel John rustling his shoulder

"didn't wanna wake you, Buck, but Marge says dinner is ready," John whispers and Gale's absolutely horrified by the position he's in, his face tucked into John's shoulder with his body curved into John's

it's the evening, Gale realizes, and he must have slept for a couple of hours, at least before he was woken up, and he realizes that's the longest he's ever slept uninterrupted

it haunts him, that oh so relaxing sleep on John's shoulder whenever he sleeps fitfully in Marge's bed, and that paired with a bunch of other shit (namely the feelings he has for his boy best friend), he decides to leave Marge and find John

and he shows up on John's doorstep, desperate and pathetic like a stray dog, asking for a place to stay because he left Marge, and John, always so fucking kind, allows him into his home

Gale banishes himself to the guest room even though John says he can take the master, and hopes that just being in John's proximity can help him sleep, but he's still awake to the long hours of the night with nightmares and curses to himself, why isn't this working?

and then they find themselves in a similar position again, sitting on the couch while the radio drones a baseball game or some music and Gale can't help but think that John's shoulder looks like a much better pillow than anything Gale's ever seen, so he lets himself lean over, and John's arm comes around to wrap around Gale's shoulder and pull him closer, and Gale sleeps for six hours in John's arms

it must be an accident, it can't be that Gale can only sleep in John's arms, so he tells himself he's going to sleep in his bed, still thinks it's only John's presence that's making him more relaxed, John had always been that sort of relaxing force for him, but when he jolts up in the night again after hours of fighting sleep, he curses to himself and quietly pads to John's room

he hopes he can just slip into John's arms without waking him, will slip out just before the sun rises and John will be none the wiser, but he can see John's body shifted towards him when Gale quietly opens the door and Gale curses to himself again, hoping he didn't wake John with his foolish ventures

but John just reaches his arm out, beckons with his fingers for Gale to come closer, and it's like John has a string attached to his heart because he can't stop his feet from moving towards the bed

"come here, Gale" John whispers, voice hoarse with sleep, and that's the final push for Gale to collapse in John's bed with him

and John so easily wraps his arms around Gale's waist, tucks his face into Gale's neck as an invitation for Gale to do the same, and it's almost as if John's blocking the nightmares and the restlessness with his touch and for the first time in years, Gale sleeps through the night

loved this prompt I love an excuse to make Gale a little pathetic with it 😔