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sophie-looks-at-things · 11 months ago

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As You Wish

Pairing: Aemond x wife reader

Summary: Aemond's new wife has a moment of reflection wondering if her new husband truly cares for her. Aemond is determined to prove to her that he is utterly devoted to her.

Warnings: smut, some slight angst? maybe idk honestly haha, Aemond loves his wife he just has issues expressing it lol, p in v, oral (f receiving) man is a champ when it comes to that, praise, 18+, vulgar language lol, slight breeding kink

AN: hey y'all! long time no see haha, I finally watched the season 2 hotd premiere last night and had to finally write something! this is my first go at a legit fic and not just headcanons so don't be too judgy haha. but I hope y'all enjoy it! :)

PS: it is unedited rn, but I was just too excited to post it, so I'll edit it later!

The rose-scented bubbles of the bath water lapped soothingly against your flesh. This had become your routine, after the evening's supper or feast you would call to your handmaid to draw a bath. Scalding hot water, warm enough to turn your skin pink upon contact. The boiling water and the familiar scent of the roses were one of the few things that brought you comfort after your marriage to Prince Aemond. Your family had come seasonally to court for many moons now, your mother being a friend of Queen Alicent. As your brothers sparred with the young princes in the training grounds, you took more kindly towards the gardens. Wandering around the maze of flowers and bushes searching for faeries and nymphs. Of course, you had been only a child then and had not yet known that such silly things don’t exist.

It had been the Prince himself that informed you of such. You had been crouched on your knees before a bed of yellow roses, looking between the stems and leaves for the little creatures. The skirts of your dress soiled and stained brown from the earth beneath you. You had been so preoccupied with searching for them, that you hadn’t heard the crunching of grass and footsteps behind you.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?” Aemond had asked you, voice bitter but curious. You stood up hastily, nearly tripping on your own two feet as you spun around and curtsied clumsily.

“I am searching for faeries my Prince. Mother said that they can be found amongst the stems of the most beautiful flowers!” Your small hands began to nervously dust themselves off on your already dirty skirts. Aemond’s eye followed the motion, his upper lip curling in disgust. It had only been a couple of moons since the young prince had lost his eye. The scar was still fresh and red around the edges, the eyepatch clearly bothering him. For it appeared to be fastened too tight around his head.

“Don’t be absurd, such pathetic things don’t exist. All you’ve succeeded in doing is soiling your clothes.” He motions down towards your skirts, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. Feeling ashamed to be talked down upon by someone you hoped to be a potential friend. Even though his eye, or lack thereof, scared most, you had found it intriguing. Your father had told you stories of men in faraway places who wore their scars like badges of honor, like trophies of war. The marred skin being a testament to their victories in battle. Your father however did not return to tell the tails of his own scars, for he had passed in the Stepstones, aiding Lord Corlys and Prince Daemon in their war.

“My apologies my Prince, for I-” you dared a look up into face, his brows knit together, arms crossed over his chest. You lowered your eyes in shame once more “I shall go change my skirts at once.” And with that you darted off, not waiting for a response from the young Targaryen.

That had been many years ago though, and you were no longer a child, and nor was he. Prince Aemond had grown into a handsome man, not just physically, but intellectually as well. The water of your bath had grown tepid as you recalled the memory, a slight frown adorning your features. Why had he wanted to marry you? He hardly had shown any interest, more likely it was because his mother and grandfather craved the military prowess your family possessed. They needed it for the impending war. So a proposal for your hand had been made, and your eldest brother eagerly accepted. After your father’s passing, and your mother grew older in age he had taken it upon himself to attend to the coming and goings of your house.

It wasn’t that Aemond was exactly an unkind husband, he just wasn’t present, ever. There was always a reason or excuse for him to leave a room once you arrived. The only full night you had spent with him had been your wedding night, in your marital bed. He wasn’t rough, nor was he gentle, but he possessed an air of duty and responsibility when it came to the consummation. For once he spilled his spend inside of you he had fetched a cloth for you to clean yourself. Then turned his back to you and slept, not uttering another word.

The sound of your chamber doors creaking open drew you from your thoughts. The clanking of a sword and heavy footsteps made their way towards you in the bathing room. You were met with the sight of your rather disheveled lord husband. Before you could offer him a greeting, however, his eye lifted to your face, and he asked:

“May I join you?” Taken aback slightly by the question there was a pause, the room silent. Then, you nodded, “Yes, yes of course you may husband.”

Aemond had waited for your approval before stripping himself bare of his clothes, riding clothes by the looks of it. He must have been out on Vhagar. You observe him as he untethered his belts and the laces of his boots. The years of training had done him well, his arms and back muscles lean and corded. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to drag your nails down them, as he fucked into you–

“Wife? Did you hear me?” Shit, he must have asked you something, looking up from the muscles of his arms to meet his eyes you shook your head. He chuckled a bit, smirking, you had been caught in your staring.

“I asked you, how was your day my lady wife.” A hint of amusement laced his voice, he had rid himself of his clothes, having placed them neatly over the back of one of the armchairs in the rooms.

“Oh, well, it was alright. Nothing too exciting I'm afraid. I did have tea with your mother and sister though. That was quite pleasant, Helaena was telling me of the butterflies that come for the roses this time of year. She said we must go see them once they arrive.” As you spoke Aemond made his way around the tub, to behind you. It took an embarrassingly great deal of effort not to stare as he had presented himself bare before you. To look only above his waist and not let your eyes drift down towards his cock.

“Mmh, yes we must see them then,” his cold hands met your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing, circles on them. This was his way of telling you to move forward, so that he may join you in the tub, taking his place behind you, and pulling you onto his lap.

“You take such tepid baths wife. You’ll catch a cold one of these days.” He mumbled into your ear as he made himself comfortable behind you, his legs outstretched beside your own. It wasn’t that such small talk was uncommon between the two of you when he was around. Besides, you two did share chambers, so despite his avoidance during the day, he was bound to return to you at night.

Turning fully to face him now, with a surge of annoyance, the water sloshing around the two of you with your sudden movements. “Why do you care? You are hardly even here to see me as is, I doubt you would even notice.” Aemond’s singular lilac eye widens, not from anger, but rather from surprise. His lady wife was always so sweet, so silent, this was new, and dare he say exciting.

“A woman can only take so much you know–” You go to stand, to leave the tub, and go to bed, done with whatever this conversation is. Aemond’s hand shoots out to grasp your wrist, stopping you from doing so.

“Wait!” It came out more harsh than he had intended. “I do care for you my lady, truly I do. I did not know that you–”

“Prove it.” You say interrupting whatever he is about to tell you. You keep your eyes level and voice steady. “Prove it to me then husband,”

Aemond says only one thing before attacking your lips, “As you wish,” He is not gentle in his kisses, he does not know how to be gentle. Perhaps you could teach him. His grasp on your wrist moves to your waist as he continues his assault on your lips. His hands roam the flesh of your waist, your hips, your thighs, his lips move down towards your neck. Biting and nipping at the flesh there, sure to leave a mark for all to see.

“Aemond–”

“Shhh, let me take care of you tonight. Let me prove to you how much I desire you, my love.” He murmurs between bites and kisses. He pulls back, only for a moment, “You are beautiful, I am sorry I have not told you this enough,” his lips attach themselves to one of your breasts, suckling at the nipple. You let out a surprised breath as he bites down, a wave of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

His roaming hands have found purchase on your ass, his deft fingers kneading the plump flesh. Suddenly his grip becomes tighter as he rises from the tub with you in his arms, water spilling over the sides and onto the floor. You hurriedly wrap your arms around his neck, in an attempt to steady yourself.

“Aemond! You’ve made a mess–” He laughs, fully this time, not just a chuckle. It’s a lovely sound you think.

“Fuck the mess, the maids shall deal with it in the morning. I’ve neglected my dear lady wife and that must be rectified immediately. One of the hands on your ass pulls back and gives it a small slap. You gasp in surprise, tucking your face into his neck, peppering small kisses there, just as he had done to you moments before. You could get used to this side of your husband. Aemond lets out a hum of satisfaction at your ministrations, soon after playfully throwing you down onto your shared bed.

“Aemond the sheets, they’re soaked now–” you began to protest cut off rather abruptly by his grip on your ankles. Pulling you down towards the end of the mattress, your cunt now level with his lips.

“That should hardly matter, we have others–” he places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Besides the only thing I care to see soaked is your cunt after I am done–” Without another word or hesitation, Aemond licks a hot stripe up the center of your core. Then a second, and a third, until he loses all control. He devours you like a man starved. His strong arms wrap themselves around your things, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue continues its assault on your cunt.

“You taste of the finest ambrosia–” the vibrations of his voice sending shock waves of electricity to your clit. Aemond is only spurred on further by the sound of your sweet moans. His name falling from your lips like a chant, like a prayer to the Seven. His lips find purchase on your clit, sucking and licking till you're writhing beneath him. Your hands shoot down, finding purchase in his long silver locks.

“Aemond, oh Aemond–” the words spill from your lips like nonsense. The only thing you are able to focus on is his lips and tongue lapping at your cunt. The man between your thighs devouring you like this is his last meal alive.

“Cum for me, cum on my tongue. And then I shall reward you with my cock. Cum for me my love–” As if on command, you feel the muscles of your lower abdomen contract, and then all that lovely pleasure overflows, and bursts from you. With a strangled cry of his name, you cum on his tongue. You look down at your husband between your thighs, his lips glistening in your release.

“Good girl, my good, sweet, perfect girl. You did exactly what I asked,” he crawls up your body, stopping only to place the occasional kiss to your hot skin. His lips return to your neck, sucking love marks into the skin over the faint ones he had left before. A newfound favorite of his perhaps. He gives his cock a few strokes, his thumb collecting the beading drop of arousal from his tip. Wordlessly, he brings the digit up to your lips, pressing down gently on your bottom one. You open your mouth, sucking the essence from his finger, swirling your tongue around it, eager to please him. He groans in response, resting his forehead on yours,

“Perhaps another night my love, I need to be inside of you now.” You release his thumb with a slight pop.

“Fuck me then, husband–” Not needing any further encouragement, Aemond sheathes his cock inside of your cunt. The warm, velvety walls squeezing him perfectly. “Fuck–” he moans breathlessly as he slowly begins to thrust into your weeping cunt. The squelching noises from his movements turn your cheeks red, you move to hide your face in the crook of his neck once more, but a hand on your chin stops you. From above, Aemond’s lilac eye bores into your own, like a spell, you are unable to look away.

Aemond’s thrusting becomes faster, harder, like a man starved. The grasp on your chin returns to your hips. As Aemond rolls back slightly, sitting on his knees, he brings your hips to meet his, your back still on the bed. From this angle he has full control over your body, not that he hadn’t before. But now he could control his thrusts, making them sharper, harder. Beneath him, your eyes screw shut in pleasure, consumed by his ministrations.

You look beautiful like this, he thinks. Cheeks red, hair a mess, sweat glistening on your skin. He had been a fool before, not indulging you more often. Not being by your side, it was a mistake he would make no more. He had been too afraid of your rejection, too afraid you would find him repulsive because of his scar. The scar that he himself found so disturbing. But clearly, the way his name fell from your lips, as your face contorted in pleasure, this was not the case.

“Shall I cum inside of your perfect cunt? Shall I plant my seed, and watch you grow and swell with my child?” He barely recognized the words coming from his lips, too lost in carnal desire to notice.

“Yes, yes Aemond, yes–” the words leaving your lips like a hymn, a prayer to your lord husband. Aemond’s fingers began to circle your bud as he continued to rut into you.

“Together then, I can feel you little wife–” As if he possessed some kind of magic, you did as commanded. Aemond’s release coating your walls, both of you warm and well sated. Once more he leans down, leaving a small peck on your lips before resting his forehead on yours.

“I have been a fool, a complete and utter fool. I am not a great man in many ways my sweet lady wife. But for you perhaps I could be,” He places another kiss on your lips.

“I would like that very much Aemond,” you smile a bit as you say this because it is true and it would be unfair to not allow him to prove as much. After all, that is what you asked of him is it not? Without pulling out or away from you, Aemond rolls to his side, tucking you into him, desperate to keep you in his arms.

“Stay like this with me tonight, please?” He asks, afraid you’ll send him away.

“Tonight and every night if you behave,” you give him a slight pinch to add emphasis to your comment. You feel his chest vibrate against your cheek with laughter.

“As you wish,” he says one final time, as the two of you drift off to sleep, held safely in the arms of one another.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader smut #smut #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #hotd aemond #smutty smut smut #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #love this man #god i love him #aemond x reader #prince aemond targaryen

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jacaeryssworld · 9 months ago

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sea salt and snow

pairing(s): cregan stark x fem!manderly!reader

genre: fluff

word count: no clue, just started writing on here & couldn’t bother to transfer it to a google doc/document

warning(s): arranged marriage, heavy on the childhood friends to lovers trope, cregan being a lovesick fool for reader (as he should!), short but sweet! (lowkey hate this & might rewrite it later)

note(s): i need this man so bad 😫

Your Mother loved to remind you that your blood ran thick with sea salt and sand. How the very turbulent ocean outside the castle walls was apart of your very being. Seeped into your system when you were still just a babe in her womb. She continuously reminded you to be proud of the house you came from, of the surname you carry. And you were, very much. Except that was doing nothing for you at the moment as you shivered and shuttered at the numbing cold Winterfell always had. Being of sea and sand brought you no warmth while in the halls of the most freezing castle you’ve ever been in.

The Stark family was a close friend of yours, the history going back since the establishment of Winterfell. So, it wasn’t anything new—the cold that is. Yet every time you went back, you found yourself chittering in your boots and quivering from the cold. But that was something you needed to get used to as you’d be staying in Winterfell for the foreseeable future.

“You’re practically shaking like a leave, darling,” a deep voice chuckled out, scaring you out of your stupor as you jumped.

“Gods, Cregan! You nearly scared the soul out of me!” You exclaimed, hand over your racing heart as you tried to slow it down from the fright.

Cregan Stark laughed, gently apologizing as he took the hand over your heart up to his lips, placing a barely there kiss on the chilled skin.

“Why don’t we go to somewhere more warmer, my lady” he suggested, wrapping your hand around his bicep, gently dragging you down the corridors to the library where he knew new kindle had been added to the burning fire in the fireplace.

You rolled your eyes in kind, huffing as you spoke: “There is no need. I must get used to the cold anyway if I am to stay here for the remainder of my life”.

Cregan and you had been betrothed since you were both ten and three, being friends way before that, frequently traveling to each other’s home to strengthen the bond. But just recently had it been decided that you were to stay there permanently as the wedding was just a few moon cycles away.

“I would like to marry you before you turn into an icicle. Plus, you’ll have time to get used to the snow and cold over time. You do not need to put yourself through this in order to get a head start. You could possibly get hurt,” Cregan responded, rubbing his thumb on the hand that rested on his bicep.

A small smile crept onto your lips, blushing at the fact that he said he’d like to marry you. “Well,” you started, “we must hurry then. I’m afraid if I stay in this cold any longer I will certainly freeze”.

Cregan grinned widely as he tightened his grip on your hand ever to slightly, chuckling at your words before speeding up his pace.

“We can’t have that now can we?” He mused.

“No, we can’t. Plus, I’d haunt the halls of Winterfell for eternity if I froze to death on your watch”.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, my Lady”.

And with that, a woman from salt and sea felt her entire body warm at the man from snow so carefully guided her into the heated library, love ever present in both of their expressions.

#jacaeryssworld #jacaeryssworld fics #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon fanfic #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark fic #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #fem!manderly!reader #hotd cregan #cregan stark x fem!reader #cregan stark x female reader

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space-matt · 1 year ago

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Could I request a Matt x reader.They have been dating for a while but the reader has never left that honey moon stage.One day Matt is not having a good day and the readers presence make him on edge.He ends up blowing up on her calling her overbearing and clingy.Things shift and she becomes more distant,for a while he feels ok but he starts to miss the relationship they way it was before.when he tries to talk to the reader she cries to him about the whole situation.He is really sorry and does his best to make it up to her.

I’ll make it up to you

matt.sturniolo x fem.reader

summary: It's really true that you understand the value of things when you lose them.. Matt figured it out too late, but will he be able to make up for it?

request: yes

author’s note: thank u so much for the request!! I hope you’ll enjoy it ♡ I added the song that helped me to write it. For everything I’m here!

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English is not my first language, if you see grammar and typing mistakes, I apologize in advance! I just ask you not to be rude to me ♡

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revised

Still lying in bed you feel the heat coming from the window left half open in Matt’s room, with your eyes closed you stretch by turning to the other side meeting a boulder of a blanket, you reach out your hand in search of your favorite person but to your surprise, your hand leans on the mattress, so you open your eyes trying to focus and notice that half of the bed is empty.

You've been together for seven months and thirteen days now, and you have to say that they are the best months of your life; Having never had previous relationships, it can be said that Matt is your first true and actual relationship in your 20 years of life.

Everything had started as a pure joke between you two to make fun of Chris and his girlfriend Maddy, but the more time passed, the more you began to feel real feelings towards the boy who unlike you had liked you for a long time, but for fear of being considered only and solely a friend, he wanted to avoid putting his heart in the foreground and listening to the rational part of his brain.

But fate wanted that one evening while you were saying goodbye to go to your own house, the moment you were about to press a kiss against his cheek, Matt turned earlier than expected causing your lips to collide, making you immediately move away but when you stopped to look into his eyes you saw in both of them a spark to burst a breathless kiss.

It must be said, from that moment you have been together, indeed perhaps precisely because it is your first relationship that you try to always make everything go for the best unlike Matt who still had his first relationships during his adolescence that, however, according to him, ''they can't compete with you''. Of course, it scares you that sooner or later it may get bored or otherwise lose interest in you, but you still try to eliminate this thought and be the best girlfriend in the world.

So you get out of bed by completely opening the window so that the room can change air, leaving the bed undone; Take your change in the drawer that Matt has free so that you can put some of your things when you stay at his house to sleep, and you head to the next bathroom without noticing who is in the open space connected by a small corridor to his room.

Meanwhile Matt was lying on the sofa, the TV turned on in the background, with the phone in his hand looking at the various social networks but his mind was elsewhere, indeed the day had started in the wrong direction.

All night you did nothing but stay attached to him not making him move, which didn't make him sleep a wink and that's why he was quite nervous.

His brothers were still in their respective rooms changing, as they would then be out all day under your precise instructions, as you wanted to spend a day entirely with Matt before leaving for spring break in two weeks.

When Nick and Chris find themselves in the living room ready to go out, Matt pulls up his head ''Do we have any meetings today?'' He asks confused getting up and putting the phone in his pocket ''The two of us yes, you have the day off today.. enjoy it'' Chris replies with a grin on his face which vanishes when he hears a puff from him ''Wow I didn't expect all this enthusiasm '' exclaims ironic Nick going to the door of the house ''Please let me come with you, I need to disconnect, I need air'' Matt responds whispering so as not to be heard by you ''Sorry MattyB but no'' says Chris taking a can of Pepsi from the fridge and then he goes out too.

Another puff comes out of his lips knowing he has to stay with you all day, and resignedly throws himself back on the couch closing his eyes.

When he feels your steps approaching a sense of annoyance and nervousness pervades his body, he can't even understand the reason for all this but it's already been a couple of days that he just wants to have a moment for him, but with you in the middle it's almost completely impossible.

On the other hand, you do not notice anything different, perhaps because taken by too much love even the most obvious things go unnoticed by your eyes in the shape of a little heart.

All happy you go to the kitchen take water pouring it into a glass, you notice Matt on the sofa, you leave the glass on the counter and go in his direction lowering yourself to his height ''Babe, let's go out for breakfast?'' you ask trying to caress his hair but at your touch, he moves by sitting down looking at you ''I can't, I have to go out'' he responds annoyed without even looking at you, leaving you a little surprised but doesn't give up trying with a ''Then when you come back we can go for a ride at Lake Hollywood Park, right?'' hopeful in one of his answers but the only thing he pronounces is a ''See you later'' without greeting you and leaving the house, leaving you standing in the middle of the living room.

The hours go by and so does your enthusiasm, you start thinking about the worst situations in your mind, which do nothing but increase your paranoia;

Okay maybe you recognize that in the last period, you have always been with them but although it has been almost a year since you moved to Los Angeles, you have not been able to make many friends due to your armor that you tend to raise when it comes to new people. But with Nick, Chris, and Matt it's different, you've known them since you were little, and with them, there was never a need to create a wall to protect you, because they are your guardian angels.

You've always gotten along, except for a few quarrels which is normal, but you've never noticed before behaviors so distant from Matt, as if your presence wasn't welcome.

When you hear the door open you hope that your boyfriend's figure will come out of the stairs but you recognize the voices of Chris and Nick, you resign yourself completely on the couch with your pajamas and the tray of ice cream on your legs.

''Ookay... why are you at home? Didn't you have to go out?'' Nick asks looking at you confused ''By the way where is Matt?'' Keep looking around ''I have no idea'' you answer him in a subtle voice while you eat a spoonful of vanilla ice cream, you feel the tears stop at the corners of your eyes, so you don't see you turn your head on the other side putting the teaspoon in the tray ''He came out this morning and never came back, I tried to text him and call him a couple of times but I didn't receive an answer'' you keep whispering closing your eyes making the tears fall.

You feel the package of ice cream being removed from your legs and two arms that surround you, from the essence that envelops you, you recognize that is Chris and with your eyes still closed you abandon yourself in a liberating cry after holding it all day ''Shh, it's okay'' he whispers massaging your back ''You know that now and then he has its relapses and behaves like this'' he keeps trying to reassure you.

You pull up with your nose and detach yourself from his arms ''But with me, he had never behaved this way.. at all he always came to me'' you explain looking in his direction receiving almost an expression of pity on his face ''What do you say if we order something and watch a movie here all together? We will make you choose'' announces trying to cheer you up But on your part, he only receives a nod with your head.

Even though he had spent the whole day outside walking around the crowded streets of Santa Monica, his mind did nothing but think about the time to get home, the only thought of having you always stuck made him take his breath away, of course he cared you but this so much physical contact, at that time, was leading him to detach himself from everything, but especially from you.

That's why he had waited for a late time to come back, so as not to have to face you trying to postpone everything to the day of your departure. But you know how his thought works more than yourself, in this way after finishing watching your comfort movie together with the two boys, you decide not to go to sleep right away but to stay on the couch not being able to stay alone in bed without Matt by your side, with the knowledge of having done something wrong.

The fact that there was no communication between the two of you was new, you have always been the anchor of each other, and not being it in a short time has completely upset you, especially not understanding how to act, and consequently how to find a solution.

The silence that reigns in the house is broken by the noise of the keys that are inserted into the door patch, your heart begins to beat quickly but you remain motionless sitting with your gaze turned in his direction, while he tries to slowly climb the entrance stairs but when it reaches the last one, he stops seeing you pulling his eyes up ''you shouldn’t have waited up for me, there was no need'' he says changing towards the fridge taking a bottle of water but no longer being able to hold back your thoughts for you ''What have I done? It's all day that you avoid me indeed it's days that you behave strangely'' you blurt out getting up to get closer to him, and given your height difference you are forced to pull up your head to look him better in the eyes.

As you stand in front of Matt, you can feel the bitterness in his words cutting deep into your heart. "What did you do to me?" he asks, his voice laced with anger and frustration. "There's that you've become overbearing and clingy. I can't take it anymore. You're always sticky, I never have a free moment, and if I have it, you're always there" he exclaims with clenched teeth and a hard look.

His words strike you like a bolt of lightning, and you take a step back, not believing what you're hearing. "We weren't like that before, and now I understand why no one has ever wanted you" he adds with wickedness, making you feel small and insignificant.

You try to speak, but your voice catches in your throat. You know what you've been through, and you've always hoped that Matt would understand. But instead, he holds it against you, making you feel like an outcast.

"You're an asshole" you finally manage to say, raising your voice as tears slide down your face. It's not like you to use such harsh words, but you're hurt and angry, and you can't help it.

At that moment, Matt opens his eyes, and you can see the surprise and shock on his face. He had never heard you say such a thing to him. Among all people, it was always you who used a calm tone, even in the most difficult situations.

Seeing you rush into his room, he follows you around, but when he sees that you start to take your bags, he realizes that he has exaggerated. "What do you do?" he asks, trying to take your arm. But with all the anger that you had in your body, in very little, you wriggle from his grip. "Let go of me" you say in a dry tone.

"I'm not going to stay in the room with you anymore. I'll go to Nick's, and I'll bring all my stuff" you finish, closing the zip and dragging the bag on the ground. As you come out of his room, you find yourself facing the two guys who, from the screams, immediately catapulted to see what had happened.

As you ask Nick for help, you feel exhausted and drained from the situation at home. Without even turning to see him, his hand takes the bag from yours and you head up to the room with the older brother. In the distance, you hear Chris saying, "Dude you have already done too much damage, let her be."

Days pass by, but the situation at home remains the same.

After receiving some harsh words, you decide to build a wall between you and Matt and try to avoid being alone with him.

You attempt to behave like a mature person, spending more time with the two brothers and going out on your own when they can't accompany you.

Matt, on the other hand, feels good when you're not around. However, as time passes, guilt starts to creep in, and he realizes that he doesn't want to push away the one person who means the world to him.

He understands this even more when you don't even look at him at the airport and leave without a single glance. "Why did I do wrong to her?" he says to himself as he watches you go through security checks. "Because you're a jerk, that's why" answers Nick, watching him with a serious expression.

Although he regrets his actions, Matt is determined to make things right between you two. Without telling anyone, he packs his backpack with only the bare minimum and heads off to the other side of the country.

Spring break is coming to an end, and leaving your family and friends in Boston again feels like a stab in the heart. This time, it hurts even more because you know that once you get back, you'll have to fend for yourself completely, starting with finding an apartment.

You and your family were having a pleasant evening playing board games when you heard the doorbell ring. "Were you expecting someone?" you asked, moving your pawns on the board. "No, we weren't. Why don't you go and answer it?" your mother replied, gazing at you with a gentle expression. You got up from your spot, a little confused.

As you reached the door, you saw Matt standing outside with a bouquet of your favorite tulips and a puppet with the words <I'm stupid> written on it. The sight of the flowers made you smile, but you didn't let your guard down completely.

''Please, I have to talk to you''

"You have five minutes" you told him as you closed the door behind you and sat on the porch, keeping a distance. He handed you the flowers and the puppet, and you accepted them, putting the flowers next to you and holding the puppet in your hands.

"I'm sorry" he began, fiddling with your fingers. "I know I'm not good with words, but I realize now that I was wrong to say what I said.

I shouldn't have blamed you like that. I just wanted to talk to you and explain my side of things."

He paused, looking down, and when he looked up again, his eyes were watery. You felt your own eyes fill up with tears, too.

"I don't want to lose you" he said, touching your cheek. You closed your eyes and put your hand on his. "I was an asshole, but I understand that now that you're gone."

You spoke up, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was a low blow. You've never made me feel so small and helpless before. But I have to admit, I've been clingier than usual lately. That's just my way of showing you love, and if you don't like it, we can end it here."

"No way" he said, taking a step closer. "I flew over 2,500 miles to see you and tell you I love you more than anything. We just need to communicate better and make sure we're both happy. I'm here because I want to be and make it up to you." concludes by looking into your eyes '' I love you too... but please let's not hurt ourself anymore'' you leaned your forehead against his and felt his lips on yours in a gentle kiss.

When you pulled away, you grinned and grabbed the puppet. "Would you be him?" you asked, laughing together.

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

Taglist: @sturniolosreads @mayhem-72 @dracoflaco @lyzsaphrodite @ifilwtmfc @xoxo4chrisss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @inlovewithmattstur @sturniolobendystrawsposts @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #romance #travel

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genderfluid-insomniac · 8 months ago

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Hey, i'm not sure if i can ask u this(u can just not answer if u want)but here i was wondering....

What Would happen if Sun and Mac(separate) met a fem Reader that is an incredibly nice and chill(and very beautiful)person, she's really kind and looks out for them, they bond and become friends in the process, but then after one crazy drunk Night, they don't see the Reader nor hear bout' her for a while(which upsets them a lot), until they run into her again, trying to contain their joy(or frustration if u prefer) they suddenly notice a child behind her,one that looks exactly like them, demanding an explanation, turns out the Reader didn't tell them anything BC they were scared of simply Being Seen as a "one Night stand", not having their feeling Being reciprocated and having their child Being rejected(also didn't want push the fatherly into them) so she raised the child herself, and always made sure to give them all her love despite not having it's father(s) by her Side.

a/n: I got a bit carried away and of course Macaque’s is long because this would shatter his trust and it wouldn’t recover as fast as Wukong would.

One night stand reunion //Sun Wukong x fem!reader x Macaque (separately)

Sun Wukong

When he first met you he swore that love at first sight wasn’t a thing but you were incredibly nice and beautiful, maintaining a chill attitude no matter the situation and easily continuing the conversation naturally.

You both first met at a festival on the outskirts of the city where you found him talking with another boy before catching your gaze. Of course, you knew who he was but it didn’t really matter to you since you just wanted to talk to him.

After a couple of minutes, you both warmed up to one another and talked the night away. You both clearly hit it off immediately and slowly became friends which started edging towards more as you both said flirt after flirt.

One night both of you were having drinks and became tipsy, getting closer and closer with hands roaming up both of your bodies. You kissed passionately and slowly stripped down to nothing, ending the night in each other's arms exhausted and panting harshly.

However as days passed he didn’t see you and started to search all over the city, asking MK and the gang if they’d seen you and describing your features only to find nothing. Anybody could tell Wukong was depressed about your sudden disappearance and tried to cheer him up only for every attempt to fail.

A couple of years later suddenly MK calls Wukong to come to the shop since someone was asking to meet him and zoomed over to meet this stranger. You were nervously pacing back and forth with your child holding onto your hand behind you, poking you to get your attention, and looking wide-eyed at Wukong who stares shocked at you both.

His eyes go from you to your child who is almost a carbon copy of him aside from a few details and back to you, ushering your kid to MK and Pigsy while you listen to his frustration and grievances. He was right on some points and you teared up when you yelled that you were scared he didn’t love you back or worse that he didn’t want the baby so you raised them alone.

There were a few minutes of silence before Wukong kneeled down and peered over at his kid, slowly coaxing them out and smiling warmly when he introduced himself and apologized for not being in their life.

The entire night was emotional for everyone and you all spent the night on FFM, sharing stories from the past years and cuddling each other to make up for lost time.

Macaque

Now you were at a full moon harvest festival when you decided to take a break and hang on the edge of the area when you spotted a dark-furred monkey leaning against a tree. He didn’t seem up to chat and mostly ignored you for a bit, respecting his wishes and sitting in pleasant silence. You heard him sigh and speak up, making a joke about how persistent you were to make conversation.

Macaque was surprised by how insistent you were to talk to him but also how nice you were, respecting his wishes and relaxing next to him. You were gorgeous on top of how amazing your personality was it made him want to know you more than just a stranger but his fractured trust issues made it hard to get to know you better.

Unlike Wukong it takes a couple of weeks to become good friends and a couple of months to get to that night where you get drunk, leaning on him and slowly creeping closer. Another drink and you both go for a kiss, climbing onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring him back to your apartment and lead him to your bedroom, quickly stripping and feeling him trailing kisses down your neck.

All of a sudden though, in the following days you disappeared, and he at first thought you were busy so he left it at that but it quickly changed when he couldn’t find you anywhere. All he could find was a note taped to your door for him and it read that you were eternally sorry for what you were about to do but you didn’t want to burden him.

This shattered already broken trust issues and caused him to go into a year-long depression where he had so many different emotions bothering him it physically pained him. No one could get him out or break him out of it and he hated that a part of him still held out hope for you.

2 or so years later he seemed to have finally been getting over you or at least seemed as though he got over it to others when he was walking along the marketplace only to see a familiar face pass through the crowd. Without hesitation, he slipped into the shadows to see if it was really you and it was!

Part of him was furious that you had the audacity to show up here like nothing had ever happened but the other part was nearly crying out of joy that you were back. Without question, he dropped you through a shadow portal to a more private area and stepped out of the shadows.

You both stared at one another before he started shouting about how you didn’t even explain why you left or bothered to even tell him in person. He laid into you with shout after shout and screaming how much you hurt him with tears pricking his eyes, looking at your face with tears streaming down your face, and waited patiently for a response.

However, a small voice spoke up, and a nearly identical version of him but a toddler pulled on your hand also crying, asking you if you were okay and to not cry with a hand over one set of their six ears. You continued to sob but kneeled down on the concrete to hug your kid barely sputtering out apologies to them about the noise and that you were just sad.

He watched in shock as the dark-furred cub wrapped their tail around your arm and cupped your face, trying to wipe your tears and getting caught in a staring match with him. The kid looked back and forth between their mom and him before standing protectively in front of you and correctly assuming he was the reason you were upset.

After a couple of minutes, he knelt down as well continuing to look at your kid and having trouble figuring out what to say since he was still hurt but also now understanding the situation. You sniffled and wiped the remaining tears from your eyes, staring at the ground beginning to explain that you panicked.

You told him how after a couple of days you took a pregnancy test and it came up positive but you assumed that he didn’t love you back and would be disgusted or hateful if he found out about your baby. Then explain to your kid that he was their father and profusely apologizing and understanding if he never wanted to see you again.

It was like Macaque was looking into a mirror as he saw the child’s six ears flutter and he took down the glamour around his own ears, seeing the cub light up in astonishment and touch their own ears. They slowly walked toward him and tentatively put his hand out, wanting to touch his dad and slowly allowing them to hug him.

All the while you looked on with a bittersweet smile and heard Macaque respond that it would take a long time for him to fully trust you again but he could understand why you what you did. You started crying when you saw him quietly crying too and crumbled as you were allowed to hug him as well.

#lmk x reader #lmk macaque #lmk macaque x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong #six eared macaque x reader #six eared macaque

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getaapologist · 3 months ago

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The Tension and the Terror............Part XV

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length)

Summary: The chaos surrounding the death of Macrinus keeps Letha and Geta apart much longer than either of them expected. Geta has an urgent question for Letha.

Warnings: make-up sex, and a shitty understanding of ancient Roman procedures around rule, 18+ only.

Word Count: 3.6k

Part 15 of 15!

[ Part XIV ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: I would like to preface this by saying thank you for reading this self-indulgent slop. I hope you got some small amount of enjoyment out of it. Your comments along the way kept me engaged enough to actually finish this. It's the first thing I've ever started writing that I actually feel like I finished. There's so much I could've added to this post-reunion that this would've never been done. I could always embellish at a later date if anyone wanted it. I'm also a bit sad to finish this because I don't have anything to look forward to now. Thank you for your time and attention. It means a lot.

Also, mea lux is 'my light' I believe.

Almost two weeks passed before Letha laid eyes on Geta again.

It was prevented by a combination of things. There had been so much to deal with after the incident in the gardens. Geta had been embroiled in meetings, debating things Letha wasn’t privy to. There was a ceremony for Ancus, to honor him for his efforts to protect his Emperors. And at every party, everyone was so desperate to show face to their Emperors, to remind them of their loyalty in wake of the exposure of Macrinus’s plot.

Though she wasn’t invited to any official meetings or ceremonies, there were situations where she could’ve sought Geta out at these fetes and events. But she didn’t. She was scared to have that conversation that needed to happen.

She knew she was still treated as a guest in the palace. More like a fixture, really, available to distract Caracalla whenever the burden of rule grew too tiresome with more poetry, read under the shade of a tree in the gardens, Ancus always nearby. But aside from that, she felt quite restless.

It’s not as if she expected things to go back to how they were, but she didn’t think it would be this hard to put her thoughts together. Leaving the gardens that evening, neck still sore, she was imagining how she’d look over at Geta the next morning and fervently apologize, for all of it. She’d tell him she would understand if he sent her away, and he would assure her that he wouldn’t dream of it.

But the next morning she couldn’t leave her bed, paralyzed by this new fear. She’d gotten a chance to see what her relationship with Geta could be, she didn’t know what she would do if it was not that. And the possibilities he’d promised her most certainly couldn’t and wouldn’t happen anymore. She stewed in the hesitance, the uncertainty, until she became convinced that it absolutely would be different. No matter what different meant, she was sure it wouldn’t be good.

And so it continued, Letha skipping mealtimes that used to be routine, bumping into servants gossiping on her way into the kitchens to eat. Occasionally she heard her name on their tongues, her appearance causing them to freeze as if Letha were Medusa herself. Not wanting to make a scene, she’d just duck right back out, resolving to return later.

Caracalla assured her his brother was just being kept very, very busy in the wake of the subterfuge and death of Macrinus, but she couldn’t help but feel like it was a little intentional.

What did you expect, honestly?

She didn’t know why she was still allowed to wander the palace, as if she were back to being a guest. There were no guards posted outside her room, and for the last week she spent her evenings in the gardens, observing the moon, asking no one in particular what happens next.

She wasn’t naive, she knew Tegula didn’t trust her. And nothing spread faster than a salacious rumor. They weren’t so foolish as to speak poorly of their Emperor, so they resorted to tarnishing her reputation instead. She was a witch, had steered Macrinus to his end, was desperate to attach herself to the divinity the Emperors were entitled to.

It was ridiculous. If she had such powers, she sure wouldn’t have suffered all this.

It was all just more fuel for her suppositions, perpetuating her unhappy cycle until she felt like it would be better if she just snuck out one night. She could become a ghost story. But against all odds, she still carried hope that the next day would be different.

As for Geta, well, Geta was trying to prevent an economic collapse. Some part of him thought Letha might think poorly of him if he let the empire fall around them because he would rather be locked up in his rooms, curled up in her. Because that was what he wanted. But he had a duty, a responsibility to steer this monstrous empire in a direction he could have heirs in. Perhaps the danger had put things into perspective.

Listening to the senators describe just how involved Macrinus had been in arming their voracious armies became more and more painful as they dove into the minutiae of complex accounts and processes he never bothered to pay attention to before. It was overwhelming. But he knew their efforts were working. Still, there were moments where he’d trade it all for those eyes on him again.

What little free time he had was spent trying to avoid Letha, because he needed hours, days, uninterrupted, for him to spill his heart to her. A few minutes here and there wouldn’t be enough to relay any of the complex emotions he felt. He couldn’t avoid her forever, though, because there was a certain conversation that had to happen. He needed to know where he stood with her before he picked a particular path to tread down.

So that was why he stalked the gardens that evening, waiting for her to appear for her nightly stargazing. And as he watched her spread out the emerald-dyed linen on the grass, he felt calm. Almost peaceful. He let himself forget the weight of all that had happened, the guilt, too. Everything they’d all been through.

Well, not everything.

“You should have run far away from here,” Geta spoke, disturbing her peace.

Letha looked over her shoulder, her breath held in her lungs as she appraised him. It almost felt like the first time. The first time she saw him and admitted against her better judgment that he was beautiful.

The moonlight glinted off the laurels and the golden chestplate he still wore, though the ceremony had long been over. His hair was shiny, neat, framing his fair face. His deep, dark eyes, still lined in crimson, were locked on her.

He looked close to divine standing there in the golden armor, easily one of the most opulent things she’d ever seen. He somehow looked taller, broader, in the armor. Untouchable, too.

It was so late in the evening, he should’ve changed. He should be in bed. Anywhere but here.

No more hiding.

“I was locked in a cell, I wasn’t running anywhere.”

He surprised her by sitting beside her on the blanket, the ceremonial armor quite uncomfortable to lay down in. He kept his arms slung around his knees, the bindings of the tall sandals flexing over his shins as he joined her in staring up at the large moon.

“What about after?” After Macrinus. “You’ve had no chaperone for well over a week now.”

Letha felt her stomach twist. “I’ve thought about it.”

“But?” Geta supplied, turning his head away from the splendor of the night sky to peer down at her where she laid out beside him. A challenger to the celestial might hanging above.

“You know there would be no point.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I do?”

She rolled her eyes, a treasonous activity if done by any other, but it filled Geta with warmth, bringing the beginnings of a smile to his lips. It all felt so familiar.

“There’s something that is keeping me here. Besides the fact I wouldn’t last a day out there with nowhere to go.”

“I dared to hope,” he admitted, taking her own admission and shoving it into the cracks that were slowly mending, a makeshift mortar.

She looked over at him, a line forming between her brows as she studied him, thinking very hard about what to say next. He reached down with a finger, gently pressing at the center of her brows, pushing away the line.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, the pressure of his closeness becoming overwhelming.

“No,” he shook his head, moving his finger lower to press to her lips, silencing any further unnecessary apologies. “It is forgiven.”

Letha felt relief, could feel a tear forming at the corner of her eye. But she didn’t want to cry, not now. She recalled her apology muttered into his hair that day. He’d told her ‘no’ then too.

“Do you still care for me?” he asked, his voice low.

“Of course I do,” she whispered, feeling the tear slide down the side of her face.

He noticed it, moving his fingertip to wipe away the trail before resting his hand on the ground beside her head. He licked his lips, staring at her, all his weight bearing down, as if daring himself to collapse onto her.

As much as he might have enjoyed frolicking beneath the stars, removing this armor was not a graceful job, even for two.

“I want to show you something.” He pushed off the ground and sat up, the haze of him dispersed. She made herself sit up, kept her eyes on him as he stood up. He could feel a swarm of bees in his stomach moving angrily as he held a hand out for her to help her to her feet.

There was a split second of indecision and he nearly faltered, but her tight grip on his hand was a balm, immediately settling his nerves. As she leaned down to gather up the blanket, he tugged her hand, urging her to leave it.

Geta lifted the small chest off his desk and carried it over to where Letha sat on the side of the chaise in his room. It sank into the plush seat and she looked up at him, surprised.

“It’s quite heavy.”

“I can manage just fine,” he smiled, his teasing tone returning.

It was so easy to get caught up in his magnetism. She wondered if he knew he possessed such a thing.

“Go on,” he urged. “Open it.”

She obeyed, pushing up the lid, exposing a rich ruby interior, the box created to house this one ornate bauble. Laurels, golden and sparkling. There were small, dazzling red gems hidden among the leaves here and there.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, reaching in to run a finger along one of the gilded leaves. “Seems a bit small for you,” she admitted.

“It is,” he confirmed.

“Well I think Caracalla will love it,” she smiled, lowering the lid. “It’s a thoughtful gift.”

Geta reached down, pulling it back open. There was a look in her eyes that gave him pause, all the smiles and teasing forgotten. As if she knew already what he was about to say. To ask.

“It’s not for my brother.”

His words sent an icy chill down the center of her back, forcing her to sit up a bit straighter. He was already moving away, pacing.

“I have been busy, Letha,” he admitted. “I’ve spent more time with the senators than I can possibly stand. And in exchange for those long hours, I got this.”

“Geta, I—”

“Don’t feel like you need to say yes right now. Just promise me you will think on it. I know these last couple of weeks have been difficult, we’ve had a hell of a time trying to navigate—”

Letha stood and walked over to him as he rambled. She reached up and curled her fingers around the collar of the chestplate, pulling him down by it, pressing her lips to his.

Geta recognized the action immediately, bringing one of his hands up to cover hers where she held the armor, moaning against her lips. He pulled her in by the small of her back with his free hand. Her necklace clattered against the metal plate until it was muffled by the press of her against him.

He could not get near enough air into his lungs. He felt dizzy, incoherent, his blood at once diluted but also thickened, leaving his limbs feeling heavy with a honeyed sludge passing through his veins. The pressure of her hauling him down to her eager mouth by the bronze plate persisted in his brain, in his gut, and he suspected he would relive it for the rest of time.

“Letha,” he breathed, his palm pressing to her heated cheek. “You can take time,” he offered, though he would be lying if he said he was satisfied with this and nothing more.

“I’ve taken it,” she replied quickly, releasing the armor.

Before the dissatisfaction crept in, he felt her fingers at his side, brushing the underside of his arm that he immediately lifted. She worked at the buckle, pulling the leather free before moving down to the woven golden string keeping both halves together.

Once his brain caught up to hers, he pulled at the cords holding the pauldrons over his shoulders, the both of them picking up speed as an unspoken sense of urgency grew in the silence. It all hit the floor with a loud clattering, the pteruges joining it not long after.

Free from the weight of the heavy armor, Geta reached for Letha’s neck, pulling her into him, groaning against her lips as he attempted to make up for lost time.

As he held her, he realized she was working herself out of her dress. It was bunched up on her shoulders by the time he looked down. The next chance she got, the two of them needing air, she threw it off over her head.

“I would have gotten to that,” he breathed, allowing himself to look her over.

“Like I said, I’ve taken it.” she spoke with intention. He felt it low in his belly.

She got to spend only a moment more on her feet before he collected her in his arms and carried her to the bed. She let out a laugh as she sank into the plush arrangement of silks and pillows. He stared down at her, feeling that blooming of warmth in his chest that only she gave him.

“What are you waiting for?”

As the words left her lips, Geta threw off the white tunic and joined her, crawling up her body to seal his lips to hers, finally allowing the weight of him to press her down into the bed. He had missed this. Her skin, already hot beneath his hands, her movements only drawing him in further, seeking his touch, his lips.

It had been a long couple of weeks.

He felt her bring a leg up around his hip and he reached for it, fingers digging into her thigh as he rutted against her. The ragged moan that left his throat said more about his desperation than anything else.

The tension in his arm trying to hold him up off of her was too much to ignore. He turned onto his side, clinging to her thigh, slowly bringing her with him until he was on his back. As she settled in this new position, she looked down where they met, a bashful smile on her face.

He couldn’t deny the wonder that overtook him at the sight of her above him, the way her mussed hair hung around her face, a few strands now loose. She was radiant, even in the night. Her nervous smile took hold in his chest, and he knew then that he would make it his goal to continue to find ways to draw that same smile from her.

“I missed you,” she admitted, eyes cast down to the expanse of his torso beneath her hands. “I thought we might never…”

“Letha, you possess me.” Her eyes widened, her body frozen in his hands. “I think that was why it hurt so much to be separated from you.” He shifted his hips, forcing heat into her cheeks. “And I owe you an apology.”

“It is forgiven,” she insisted.

He shot her a look. “I could have lost you. It was cruel and impulsive.”

“We are fortunate your brother had the good sense to intervene, then.”

“Please, do not speak of my brother right now,” he pleaded, squeezing her thighs.

She laughed at him, covering his hands with hers. “Let me distract you,” she offered, bringing his hands up higher, his fingers skimming her belly before she pressed his palms into her breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his hands squeezing her soft skin.

She ground herself down on him, using him, the sight filling him with desire for her. How he ever got pleasure from anyone else, he could never know. This was all he ever needed. He could only thank the gods, the fates, whoever brought her to him.

She surprised him as she swung her leg over him, leaving him there in the bed, a pathetic whine leaving his throat as the air hit his slick-wet cock.

Letha felt a bit unsteady on her feet as she walked through his room. She was ready to show him that she would take on the mantle, the responsibility of keeping him sated and happy.

Possessed him? She would never get over it.

She found the chest and lifted the lid, reaching down for the delicate crown. Even in the dim light it sparkled. Her prize in hand, she set it on her head and nearly sprinted back to Geta.

He still laid in the middle of his bed, a vision of long limbs and pale flesh. At the sound of her feet padding on the floor he craned his neck, his large brown eyes passing over her, lingering on her head, where the crown sat precariously.

His full lips parted in a grin. “Eager to fulfill your duty, Empress?” he questioned, his voice low with desire. He held his hands out for her, helping her return to her place astride his hips.

“Do you like it?” she asked a bit bashfully, her hands leaving his to steady the crown in her hair.

He let out a deep breath. “Mea lux,” he smiled, reaching up to pull her down to his chest, “you spoil me.” He stole a kiss from her lips before he reached up to adjust the crown so it would sit more securely on her head. She leaned into every touch, relishing the sensation of his large hands on her skin, skimming, gripping, squeezing.

She was so overwhelmed by him that she didn’t notice him preparing to shove into her, her only warning a quick swipe of him through her slick. They let out matching sighs as he filled her, like this was all they needed. Letha sat up, a hand pressed against his abdomen for support as she reacclimated to him.

“W-What exactly are the duties of an Empress, Geta?” she asked. His hips snapping up forcing a wanton moan to leave her lips.

His flush extended from his face and ears down to his chest. “Besides the obvious?”

She nodded, shifting her hips, moving on instinct, eager for relief.

He grunted, letting his head fall back. “Well,” he began, bucking his own hips up slightly to reward her. “You will sit with me in all the boring meetings. We will suffer together.”

“Mhmm,” she moaned, nodding. “I can do that.”

“You will advise me, keep me in line,” he grunted. “Tell me when I’m being a fool.”

“I will relish every chance I get,” she grinned, chasing her pleasure.

“Don’t look so excited,” he chuckled, biting his lip.

She felt her thighs burning, but she didn’t dare stop, the coil pulling ever tighter. “What else?”

“You will guard my heart, Letha,” he breathed, his eyes meeting hers.

Her hips stilled.

Geta flipped them, bringing his face down to hers. She ran her hands up his sides, over his shoulders, tangling in his hair as he kissed her. She relaxed beneath him, her legs wrapping around his hips as he drove into her at a steady pace.

“Can you do that?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

“Haven’t I been already?”

He blinked down at her, absorbing her words. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she echoed, pulling his face down to hers.

In the kiss, he quickened his pace. She felt like she was falling apart in his hands, unable to form more words. He reached down between them, his fingers finding home in the apex of her thighs, his nose brushing against hers as he urged her to her release.

She clung to him desperately, choked gasps leaving her throat as he pressed his lips against it. She clenched around him, the coil finally snapping and giving way for her hard-earned release. He pushed her through it, her hands squeezing his hips in an effort to slow him down, too sensitive.

He sat up, pulling her to him by her hips, grunting as he pounded into her.

“Is giving you an heir part of my duties as well?”

He laughed. “Not a requirement, but–” He cut himself off, burying himself in her as he fell on top of her, pulsing into her. “–a perk.”

He settled on top of her, his lips pressing to hers before he buried his face in the side of her neck. She held him close, running fingers up and down his back, enjoying the warmth of him despite all the sweat.

“I would stay like this forever,” she sighed, trying to fight off the exhaustion she felt. The last thing she wanted to do was sleep now that she had him back.

“I have no pressing business for two days, mea lux. You’re not leaving this room,” he spoke into her skin. “And when we do, we will be wed.”

She felt nervous, but optimistic. “Should we not have waited until after for this then?”

He lifted his head, his warm eyes settling on hers. Full of love and mirth. “Oh, no, dear Letha. I believe you said you have already taken your time to think,” he winked, “and I would not deprive my Empress of anything.”

[ fin ]

Thank you for reading!

#emperor geta x ofc #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #gladiator ii x reader #joseph quinn x reader #gladiator 2 x reader

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cregansgf · 10 months ago

Text

If the world was on fire {A.T}

Warnings: slight mentions of smut, fluff, soft Aegon, Targest, i think that’s it?!

Everyone knew the only person Aegon truly liked was himself. And he never tried to make that ‘rumor’ seem false either. Until her.

At first he hated her as he hated everyone else, he’d ignore her, he’d assumed she was just as weird as their sister. Oh how wrong he was.

One evening he stopped ignoring her, shockingly he turned to her for a conversation as everyone else had been boring him. It was only then he realized how much they had in common. To say he was frustrated at himself for not letting her in sooner was an understatement.

Ever since that evening he was attached to her hip, he’d follow her anywhere she’d allow, she was the very thing that consumed his thoughts, especially at night as he laid in bed, hand wrapped around his cock, thinking about her, the way her dresses always made her body look amazing, her smile. seven hells that smile was the only thing he could see.

When he came to the thought of her for the third night in a row that’s when he knew how badly he wanted her. That’s when he knew he had to make his mother wed them. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Luckily for him his mother seemed to love the idea of them being betrothed, the idea of keeping the bloodline pure made her more than happy. He thanked her anyhow though, because of her, Y/n was going to be his forever.

When Aegon found Y/n in the gardens that morning he was eager to share the good news, hoping she’d be just as happy as he was. When he told her she froze for a moment, shocked to say the least but a moment later a smile formed on her face as she pulled Aegon in for a hug, and he let her.

••

As time went on he found himself growing more obsessed with her, it was as though he couldn’t breathe without her near. He would always tell himself it was just because he wanted to make sure she was safe, but he couldn’t fool himself. He loved her.

They’ve never said those three words to each other before, only when they were children and it was just them being kids. Aegon never said it because he’s never loved anyone before, he doesn’t know how to love, how to care for someone. But for her he wants to try, he wants to better himself, he wants to be good.

Y/n has never said those three words because she was scared he didn’t feel the same way, scared the moment she let the words slip past her lips it would scare him off, maybe even make him become cold and distant. She’s never been loved before, not truly. So she has no idea what it’s like, but the way Aegon has been with her these past moons.. She was beginning to think that maybe this was what love felt like.

That was until one night, as he held himself up on top of her, sliding his cock in and out of her, he let the words slip out as he came. “I love you.” He murmured his face buried in the crook of her neck.

She froze. Her hand going limp in his hair. He said he loved her. ‘He was the first to say it’. ‘He loves me’. Were the only thoughts racing through her mind.

When he noticed the way she stopped moving, the way her hand was no longer tugging at his hair he lifted his head, finding her eyes locked on the ceiling. That’s when he knew he messed up. He let the words slip, he let the truth out and she didn’t feel the same way.

Immediately he began apologizing, pushing himself off her. But that’s when her hand found itself on the back of his neck, forcing him to stay. His eyes scanned over her face as her’s did to him. “I love you.” She finally whispered

He couldn’t stop the way his face lit up, the way the corner of his lips twitched as a smile formed on his face. That was the moment he knew how much he truly cared for her.

If the world was on fire nobody could save him but her.

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x you #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine

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insomniamamma · 14 days ago

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We Go Again: Ezra X F!reader

A/N: so this is written for @romanarose 's Disability Visibility event. This takes place within the Prickle'verse, some time after they establish their homestead, but as always can be read as a standalone. Established, loving relationship. Roughly 1k.

Warnings: Phantom limb pain, some angst, a bit of miscommunication.

“Why’d you yank the mirror, down, Prickle? Call Skaathrand’s name three too many times while brushing your teeth?” “Fuck you, Ezra,” you say, but there’s real no bite to it, not after all this time, been off world long enough that the superstitions of your youth have mostly dissipated. “At least I don’t believe in the Grass Boys.”

“Now that’s not fair,” Ezra dimples, “My brother popped out of that Kevva-forsaken swamp in a gilly suit for the sole purpose scaring the ever-loving shit out of me! I told everyone who’d listen about how I saw one of the Grass Boys. That rat bastard let me tell the tale for years before admitting to it. Even after he fessed up I still wasn’t sure about what I saw that day.“ “Cee didn’t believe you,” you say, remembering the heat and swampy funk of Ezra’s home world. No family left at the home place except his grandmother who called him by his brother’s name and patted his hair with an arthritis gnarled hand, and told him to pull the spiker-traps from the water. Ezra wasn’t even sure of her exact age, records tend to be spotty in the Fringe. “Cee believes in nothing she can’t fix her two eyes upon,” says Ezra, “Suppose she’s wise in that regard. So what’s with the mirror? We got the points, we could get a better one if this doesn’t suit you, got points enough to gut out the bathroom to your liking—“ “I know it hurts you. Especially the time of year.” Ezra stiffens and that old fear crawls in, fear that you’ve spoken above your station, fear rooted in the early days of you and him, newly hired crew when he’d ripped into you for offering help with his suit checks, and later apologized shamefaced, didn’t mean to snap at you, but it’s best I do these things for myself. If I need your help I will ask, clear? Clear. “What do you know about it?” His voice has that brittle edge, been around him long enough to know that his words may cut, been around him long enough to know that the doubts and scars run deep, been around him long enough to know that even if he lashes out he’ll say sorry later. “I’ve noticed, that’s all. The weather changes and you hold yourself different. You flinch if I come up on that side. M’not stupid, Ez.” Ezra’s eyes narrow and then relax, dips his head. “Never thought you were,” he says, “And yeah, it hurts when the weather turns. It seems a foolish thing, after all this time.” “It’s not foolish, it’s pretty normal, I mean, I’m sure you know all that-“ “Tell me about the mirror, Prickle.” “I was poking around on the drop net and I found this thing called mirror therapy. Where you set up the mirror kinda between your legs? So you can see your reflection, it tricks your brain-“ “Woo-woo drop net bullshit most likely,” “Most likely,” you echo, “But we could still try? You won’t be any worse off if it doesn’t work—“ “We’ll give it a go. What could it hurt?”

“Okay, I’m gonna hold it steady, just look at your reflection, okay?” You brace the mirror against your body. “What’s you’re right hand doing?”

“My right hand is rotting somewhere on that wretched moon,” he says.

“Ez.”

“Making a fist. If I’d known how this was gonna turn out I would’ve clipped my nails before I let Cee do her gruesome business. They dig.”

“Make a fist with both hands and hold em out, like you’re reaching out—“

“Prickle-“

“Don’t look at me, just stay focused on the mirror. You gotta make make your left hand do the same thing as your right hand. Dig your nails in. It’s gotta feel the same.”

“I think I see what you’re getting at but my tattoo is not bilateral.”

“Fuck. Forgot all about it.” His reflection tilts away as you lift the mirror and lean it against the wall. Ezra looks at his hand, concentric circles between his thumb and forefinger. Orbits for him and Owen and Gabe, but now it’s just him. Remembers this buzz of the cobbled together tattoo gun, vibrating through the hand that isn’t there, his own set of orbits not so neat as his brothers, had a good couple shots of station swill in him before he turned the contraption on himself. He’d dug in a bit too deep and the rings hand scarred slightly, nervous habit of passing his thumb over the raised skin. Open your hand, he thinks, I can still feel you, you fucker so just open up, but he knows this almost never works. Those nails are going to dig for the rest of his days, price of survival he thinks. Hears you rattling around in the bathroom, and almost calls for you to forget it, let’s just go to bed, Prickle, tomorrow will be better.

“Here. Gimme your hand.”

“Which one?”

“Smart ass.” You dab a bit of Cee’s long abandoned concealer over Ezra’s tattoo, hold his hand in yours and blow on his skin to make it dry faster, and his heart twists a little, mix of melancholy and love. You’re good to us, he’d told you once, rinsing out your clothes in a stream on Syrinx-7, your hand in his, just as rough, neither of you accustomed to softness.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” you say, “Keep focused on the mirror. I’ll hold it steady.”

The next morning you find him in the kitchen, peering out the window, haloed in grey light, winter coming on, relentless rain that will turn to snow soon, rubbing at his stump.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work.”

“I think it worked a little,” says Ezra, “I slept better than I have in some time. Maybe we can go again?”

#ezra x f!reader #prickle 'verse #disability awareness #ezra prospect x f!reader

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mizusnose · 1 year ago

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The Devil You Know

“The salt on your lips, the hands that god gave you”

Reader who has been with Mizu through it all—now she helps when she’s struggling in the dead of night. Warnings for panic attack, anxiety, and general distress.

——-

It starts in the evening. It’s Mizu, in the dead of night, the darkness slathered against her edges: the sharp of it jagged and twisted against the corners of the bed. You’re in an inn tonight. A warm fire crackling downstairs, it’s heat a distant thing—one only quieted with Mizu next to you.

Yet, she shakes against you, a thrashing quiet kind of thing. An animal injured: the wet of its blood on your hands, your forearms, the dig of your elbows. She sobs and you search her eyes. Someone so strong and sure of herself becoming a mess next to you, unraveled and thin, like a child returned from war—one you don’t know if she’s truly yet won.

“t’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here, it’s okay.”

You soothe her at best as you can, but the planes of her back shudder, her shoulders work, and you can see her jaw move: a silent scream, a prayer perhaps. To whom, you wouldn’t know.

Maybe it’s the travel that made her this way, but you’d be kidding yourself if you believed that so easily. Mizu was traveling with wet feet, raggedy clothes and only a kasa to her name for kilometers before you both met. Now, years later, you’d scold Mizu for going outside without a proper outfit on.

It’s not the travel.

“Mizu..”

She gasps and moves away from your touch, the edge of the bed dips off into a void. You watch as she falls into it, the slip of her hair hiding the pale of her face, her moon-blue eyes in the night.

You knew. Knew that she’d heard it when you both walked into the room. A snide remark, a nastier reply, the silence on Mizu’s end.

You had let her handle it, but before she could leave to confront them she returned instead and didn’t say a word for the rest of the evening until bedtime. And now—

You’re on the ground next to her. You don’t hold her, know from her attacks before this that she’d only hate it more. So you set yourself down against her, a soft push against the ground and her leg.

She’s naked, partly. A loose cover against her chest, her breasts wrapped, but the bend of her neck is an open maw against her dark spill of hair. She’s crying, and you can’t see it, but you can feel it against her knuckles and yours when you reach out to let her know: i’m here, i’m here, i’m sorry, i’m here.

Mizu never tells you what she’s thinking about whenever this happens. But somehow, you can feel it, the way she’s not looking at you, not speaking, pulling away when you hum a lullaby you remember as a child, one you’d sing to Mizu whenever her nightmares would wake her in the middle of the night screaming and thrashing.

“It doesn’t matter. I love you. It doesn’t matter.”

A flash of anger, a beat of fear, and you wonder as you sit against the rosewood floor tucked against Mizu who is terrified and angry and scared, this is the devil they are so afraid of, this is who they hate.

She shakes her head no, a jerky sudden thing. Her hair hides her face and the red of her nose. You want to kiss it away, smooth her hair back and press your forehead to hers: an apology, a prayer, a beg.

You know the taste of her tongue and the salt on her lips, the hands that gods have given her, and the blood that has spilled over, and still—

“Mizu, I love you.”

You never understood why they all hated her when she is only this: a hollowed out thing, an injury dug into her flesh, a puckered cut that won’t heal.

The shape of her has fallen like night, a dark spill of hair and the quiet quick huffs of her breath. She’s only a child now, one that can love as large as she can manage—it isn’t her fault that they don’t know, don’t understand. A devil, that’s what they call her and yet—

You gather her in your arms when she’s calmed. Hold her like water, scared she’ll slip away. The panic you only feel when she’s like this: volatile and weary, soft and damp.

She has scrapes on her knees from the fall, and the blood that spills over glints in the moonlight. You brush back her hair and you kiss her hairline, the faint widow’s peak, the freckle in between her brows, just above her nose.

And you wonder how anyone could call her these awful things when she’s only this: only yours.

———

try not to write more than 800 words challenge failed

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #headcanons #mizu x fem!reader

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rafecamerons-national-anthem · 6 months ago

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𝐿𝒪𝒮𝒯 𝒜𝒩𝒟 𝐹𝒪𝒰𝒩𝒟-𝑅𝒜𝐹𝐸 𝒞𝒜𝑀𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒩

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 Y/N finds herself caught in the turmoil of her childhood friend Rafe's spiraling behavior. A carefree boy she trusted, Rafe has become someone distant and troubled. Struggling with inner darkness and a desperate need for approval, Y/N’s empathy brings down his walls.

✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮

The summer heat was thick in the air, clinging to your skin as you stood on the edge of the Cameron estate’s sprawling lawn. The soft buzz of cicadas filled the space between you and Rafe, who was pacing near the driveway. You had been waiting for him to calm down ever since you arrived, but it seemed like nothing could settle him lately.

It wasn’t the first time you’d watched Rafe spiral, but it was the first time it scared you this much.

“Rafe, you need to stop this,” you said, crossing your arms. Your voice was more frustrated than you meant it to be, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re getting in too deep with this stuff.”

Rafe stopped pacing, turning to look at you. His usually bright blue eyes were clouded with something darker, something you didn’t recognize anymore. There was a time when he’d come to you when things got bad, when you could pull him back from the edge. But lately, that seemed impossible.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, but there was a strain in his voice. “I don’t need you worrying about me, Y/N.”

You frowned, stepping closer to him. "Well, too bad. I'm always going to worry about you."

His jaw clenched, his hand running through his messy hair. He was dressed in a wrinkled T-shirt, dirt and sweat staining the fabric. You knew what that meant. He’d been hanging out with Barry again, doing God knows what. Rafe’s obsession with getting approval from his dad, from anyone was pulling him into more and more dangerous situations. It was starting to feel like you were losing him.

"Rafe, this isn’t you," you said quietly. "This isn’t the guy I’ve known my whole life."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a brief moment, you saw the boy you used to ride bikes with through the island streets. The boy who would sit on the beach with you for hours, talking about nothing and everything. But that boy seemed so far away now, hidden beneath the weight of whatever darkness he’d let creep into his life.

"People change, Y/N," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe you should stop expecting me to be the same, yeah?"

His words stung, like a sharp twist to your chest, but you refused to back down. “I don’t expect you to be perfect, Rafe. I just…I don’t want you to lose yourself.”

He scoffed, stepping away from you. “I’m not losing anything.” But you could see it in his eyes. He was already lost.

Hours later, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, casting a cool darkness over the island. You sat alone on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge, listening to the gentle lap of the water against the wood. Rafe hadn’t said goodbye when you left the house. He hadn’t said much at all. The tension between you two was getting worse, and you hated it.

You stared at your phone, hoping for a message, a call, anything to tell you that he was okay. But there was nothing. The silence was deafening.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the dock snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned quickly, expecting to see a stranger or maybe one of the Pogues, but instead, it was him.

Rafe stood there, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. His shoulders were slumped, his face worn from whatever trouble he'd gotten into tonight. His chest heaved slightly, like he’d run all the way here.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and rough. He took a hesitant step forward, and the crack in his tone made your heart ache. “I’m sorry.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden apology. Rafe never apologized, not to you, not to anyone.

“What happened?” you asked, standing up from where you sat. You moved toward him, noting the bruising on his cheek, the split in his lip. He looked like he’d been in a fight, and your stomach dropped. “Rafe…”

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair again, the way he always did when he was frustrated or trying to hold himself together. “I got into it with some guys. Over something stupid.” His voice wavered, and you could tell he was trying to keep it together, but there was a vulnerability in his expression you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Are you hurt?” you asked softly, stepping closer to him.

“No,” he said quickly, but then his voice cracked again. “Not really.”

You frowned, reaching out to touch his arm. “Rafe, what happened?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to find the right words. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, but when he finally spoke, his voice was broken. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Your heart clenched, and you reached up, brushing your fingers gently against the bruise on his cheek. “Then don’t. You don’t have to keep getting yourself into these situations, Rafe. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

His hand came up, gently wrapping around your wrist as he closed his eyes at your touch. “I don’t know how to stop, okay?”

You could feel the weight of his words, the pain he’d been carrying alone for so long. And in that moment, all you wanted was to take it away, to remind him that he didn’t have to carry it by himself.

“You don’t have to stop alone,” you said softly. “I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

He opened his eyes then, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the walls he’d built around himself started to crumble. Rafe pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours as his hands wrapped around your waist, holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered again, his voice trembling. “I’ve been such an idiot.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re not an idiot, Rafe. You’re just…lost. But I’ll help you find your way back. I promise.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes filled with something raw and unspoken. And then, without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and tender, filled with all the things he hadn’t been able to say.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours again, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you promised, tightening your hold on him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And as the two of you stood there under the moonlit sky, with the water softly lapping at the dock beneath you, it felt like maybe, just maybe, you were both finally found.

#rafe cameron x y/n #rafe obx #rafe x reader #obx #obx x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you

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umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken · 1 year ago

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Day 1: Heir of Spring

The enemy of my enemy may possibly be the father of my child

A small crack fic to start us off with a bang ;)

@tamlinweek

Tamlin winnowed into the Summer Court hall with a resounding boom. All eyes turned to face the surprise guest, then the murmuring began.

Tarquin stood from his seat in greeting.

“Tamlin, are you alright? We weren’t sure that you would join us today, we missed you at the last meeting in the Day Court.”

The male was dishevelled, his hair wild around his shoulders and his eyes bright and frantic. A green velvet robe hung precariously on his frame, gaping open at his chest.

Tamlin's hands fluttered by his sides somewhat helplessly before finally resting on his hips. He looked about the room.

“I need to make an heir.”

“I… beg your pardon?”

“Spring is dying. When the path was cleared for Hybern to invade, he destroyed the land. All life has disappeared from my Court. My people are scared and they need a home, yet it lies in ruin. If I want to have any hope of restoring my Court, it is my duty as the High Lord to produce an heir and bring forth new life. to repair the balance of Spring.”

He continued, pacing about the room even as several jaws dropped at this new bit of information.

“I won’t stay for long. I only wanted to share what I have learned and to ask you to inform your courts. Any males who you deem worthy of this task should journey to Spring immediately. Calanmai fast approaches and will be upon us within the moon. I want to take advantage of that.”

Thesan, who found himself seated next to Rhysand, could have sworn he heard the male emit a high squeak that he struggled to hide as his fingers clutched at his armrest.

The High Lord of Night coughed delicately. "Males, Tamlin?" He attempted a drawl, but his gaze was far too intent, Thesan thought delightedly. It completely belied his suave façade.

Tamlin spoke again, his eyes fixed on Rhys in a pointed stare.

“Naturally. After all that Spring has suffered, I trust no-one but myself to carry my child.”

Beside him, Feyre twitched.

A beat, then Helion’s deep laughter echoed throughout the hall.

“What a predicament you find yourself in, Tamlin! Rest assured, I will inform the members of my court and personally select my most capable of males for you. Perhaps I might even make an appearance myself at Calanmai this year.”

Helion waggled his eyebrows, Tamlin rolled his eyes.

“My thanks, Helion.”

Then, as if a dam had broken, each of the High Lords in turn spoke their agreement, promising their aid.

Then, there remained only Night.

Tamlin's lip turned upwards just a tad, “Rest assured, I will not be seeking aid from Night. You may keep your seed to yourselves.”

“Bold of you to speak as if the Night Court would ever willingly offer you aid.” Feyre said hotly.

“You know,” he smiled toothily, “I’m surprised that Tarquin has allowed you two back in his Court at all, considering what happened the last time he extended his good will towards you. I only hope you don’t steal any artifacts or destroy any monuments on your way out. Besides, I wouldn’t want any child of mine to have such abhorrent traits.”

Feyre glowered, opening her mouth to speak again when Tarquin clapped his hands, rising from his seat. "If that will be all?"

"Of course. Apologies for the disturbance, Tarquin. I'll be making my leave."

Tamlin turned back to Feyre, dipping his head mockingly, "My lady."

She glared viciously at him but said nothing in reply.

“Lords, Ladies. I shall see you all at Calanmai.”

Some time later

“... Er, is something the matter?” Kallias paused in his report to glance concernedly in Tamlin's direction.

Almost simultaneously, all eyes whipped round to the High Lord of Spring, who was wriggling in his seat, expression stormy.

Sitting across from him were the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, neither of whom had bothered to erase the stunned, slightly aghast expressions on their faces that had been present ever since his arrival.

“Fine,” Tamlin said tightly, his hand running over the swell of his stomach. “Just wondering if all of this is worth saving the Spring Court from eternal ruin, is all.”

Lady Freya of Autumn turned towards him.

“Perhaps you ought to shift, dear. I remember your mother when she was deep in her pregnancy with you. She would often shift as the mood struck to be more comfortable. Besides, the babe will be due in less than two months now."

Tamlin smiled, sadness tinging his lips at the mention of his mother. "I suppose I have been putting it off for quite a while now... If you’ll all excuse me for just a moment.”

A sudden glow engulfed the Spring Lord and shimmered in the air before dissipating, leaving behind-

A set of hands thudded loudly on the great table, accompanied by the sound of a crashing chair.

“You can shapeshift?!” Feyre shouted over at Tamlin.

She cocked her head in bemusement, running her hands over her stomach. “Feyre, you inherited your shapeshifting powers from me. Of course I can shapeshift.”

Feyre's face was a splendid shade of red. “I meant during pregnancy,”

Tamlin's lips thinned into a line, utterly perplexed. “Feyre, I am a shapeshifter by nature… Of course I can shapeshift during pregnancy. I would have thought that Rhys would have informed you of this, given the complicated nature of your own pregnancy.”

Quick as a whip, all eyes were on Rhysand, who had yet to speak. His face was frozen into a half smile, his knuckles white on the table top.

Feyre's eyes flashed as she crossed her arms, looking at him expectantly.

"I- had forgotten about Tamlin's abilities."

Tamlin arched an eyebrow sardonically. "I truly, truly find that hard to believe, Rhysand. I'd shifted between male and female enough times in our youth that I'd thought the knowledge might have stuck with you. It certainly made an impression on you the last time I shifted"

"I-"

"And besides, there are plenty of shapeshifters in Spring. If you didn't want to consult me all those times you were trespassing on my lands, you could have spoken to any of the fae in the Westerlands and they could have told you everything you needed to know."

Silence fell over the round table, then Feyre flung herself at Rhysand with nails bared as he scrabbled to escape, screaming shrilly.

All in all, it was a very eventful meeting.

#tamlin week 2024 #pro tamlin #tamlin #tamsand #feysand #feylin #feyre archeron #rhysand

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caratheewriter · 1 year ago

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Hey darling! I'm the anon who submitted this (https://serenewrote.tumblr.com/post/745794658206105600/i-just-read-your-daemon-x-dornish-daughter-and-im) and I loved what you wrote, but I can get the version with princess Martell fem!reader… And… I had another idea, I hope you don't mind… So reader gets pregnant and despite it being a difficult pregnancy and birth she gives birth to her daughter ( lady Martell), and they are living happily until when the girl is 5 years old, reader gets pregnant again, but this time she can't go to term, she is losing a lot of blood and the baby won't come out (and Daemon won't allows them to open her), then reader and the baby die, not before she says goodbye to her precious girl and Dae and makes him promise to take care of their daughter and try to be happy, they make one last vow of love and she dies . In this part, if it's not too much to ask, could you focus on Dae's relationship with his daughter? like how they deal with grief and how he takes care of her (in my head this happens before he marries Laena, but it's up to you) About two or three years pass and although he still loves and mourns the reader, he marries Laena who is a sweetheart to little Lady Martell and doesn't try to replace reader, and is an excellent maternal figure. In this part, the flow continues normally, Laena has the twins, years pass and they are well and happy, but when Laena gets pregnant again and dies, Lady Martell finds herself in the same situation again (she really feels the death of Laena and the baby while remembering Reader and her other unborn brother) She tries to comfort the girls and Daemon tries to comfort the three. They go to Westeros, the funeral and all that confusion takes place, but in the meantime Daemon receives a letter from Dorne saying that it is time for Lady Martell to return home (Dorne) and be prepared to take over the throne that belonged to her mother. Lady Martell is scared at first and goes to Daemon, they have a frank conversation and he says he will support whatever decision she makes (whether to accept it or not) but he encourages her to take on what is rightfully hers. She goes to Dorne and learns her duties quickly and efficiently. A year later, her coronation takes place Dae (who is beyond proud of his eldest daughter) and the rest of the family is there to celebrate. She is a good ruler and Dorne prospers under her leadership, but when the dance breaks out Rhae asks her to support the blacks, but Lady, or rather Princess Martell, says she will not take sides on any side (Dorne will not fight in a war which is not theirs) Rhaenyra, despite being disappointed, respects her decision, something the greens didn't do… please? (Sorry if I got carried away, but the original idea is so interesting that I couldn't help myself…but feel free to ignore this idea and do what you think is best, but if you happen to follow this idea, it will be Can you detail Lady Martell's relationships with Reader, Daemon, Laena, the twins and the rest of the family and her years ruling Dorne, please?)

Ok. Yes, I can absolutely whip this up for you! I had a feeling that is what you were leaning towards but I just had the first idea in mind when you had sent that request. So, I'm sorry that it wasn't exactly to your liking, apologies. Also, I'm gonna have to give y/n from that other one shot a name now. Little disclaimer: moons = 12 months aka 1 year. And here you go:

"It was all part of the story, even the scary nights" - Daemon x Fem! Martell! Reader

Prequel to "And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kind of free"

Warning(s): death during childbirth, infantile death

Word Count: 2085

110 AC

The battle at the Stepsons ended swiftly. They crowned Daemon, King of the Narrow Sea. To celebrate his conquest, Daemon set out to indulge in the finest of wines and there was only one place where it could be found, Dorne.

As Caraxas landed on the sands of Dorne, Daemon is greeted by the future Lady Y/n Martell, and her sister, Nymera.

"I heard the battle for the Stepsons was a victory. Congratulations, my prince."

The Rogue Prince smirks at Y/n, "Thank you, Princess. I also thank you for sending your fleet. Dorne isn't too fond of Targaryens."

Caraxes cries out and you look to see your sister walking up to him.

"Nymera! Leave the dragon alone! Sorry, my sister's curiosity will get her killed one day."

Daemon chuckles, "We were all a bit curious at her age."

Y/n looks Daemon up and down, "My father speaks of you."

"It seems my reputation procedes me."

"It's mostly just of what not to do and be as heir, my Prince. Although, I'm sure you are of good character."

Daemon scoffs. The audacity.

"I hope that your father won't turn me away, so that you can see how good my character is."

"Why do you think my sister and I are greeting you instead of him?"

Y/n led Daemon into the great hall where a celebration was taking place. She brought him over to her father, Qoren Martell.

"Father, Prince Daemon has come for a visit. I hope you can welcome him peacefully."

Qoren looks Daemon up and down, "A dragon in our midst can only bring trouble. I have half a mind to send him away."

Y/n rolls her eyes at her father's behavior. Daemon bows his head, "I promise, Lord Martell, to keep a peaceful visit and not disturb you."

"I hope for your sake that you keep that promise, dragon."

"Alright, father. That's enough. Come, Daemon. Let's join the festivities."

Y/n leads Daemon onto the floor for a dance, "You do know how to dance, right?"

Daemon scoffs at that implication, "I wouldn't be a proper prince if I didn't."

"But you aren't a proper prince. A proper prince doesn't leave for another city instead of returning to his wife."

Daemon places his hands at your waist, "I assure you, Princess. My lady wife is more than joyous for my absence."

The dance starts out slow then speeds up. At the music's climax, Daemon lifts you up. You look deep into each other's eyes.

"How unfortunate for you. To be trapped in a loveless marriage.

Daemon's eyes drop to your mouth. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"Yes, how unfortunate."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

112 AC

In Lady Y/n Martell's chambers, she has begun her labors. Her handmaidens crowd around her.

“My lady, is there anything you need?”

The exhausted and straining Princess grits her teeth, “I would love it if the Maester wasn’t wasting his time doing gods know what and help me bring my child into the world.”

Two of the handmaidens run out to see what’s keeping the maester and Daemon walks in.

“Where’s the maester, my love?”

“If I knew, he would be here. It seems he has decided to spend his time elsewher-ahhh!”

Lady Y/n tenses up. She grabs Daemon with a fierce grip.

“My dragon, my maester is nowhere to be found and our little sand dragon has took it upon itself to push out.”

“Now? Like right now?”

Y/n took a deep breath, “Daemon?”

“My love?”

“You are going to help me, right now!"

"Y/n, I'm not a maester. I've never even seen a woman birth a baby. I don't know what I'm doing."

"Lucky for you, I have. Now, go and sit between my legs. It's nothing you haven't seen before-ahh!! Go now!"

Y/n's skin shines with sweat. She grips onto the chair. Daemon lifts his head from the sheet.

"Now, do I catch it when you push or....?"

Y/n looks at her lover. Surely he is not this stupid.

"Catch? catch?! If my child has even a second of air time before their first dragon ride, I'll cut your cock off and that is a promise. Now I'm going to start pushing so, focus!"

After copious amounts of pushing, Y/n and Daemon's daughter, named Aelyssa after Daemon's mother, decided to grace Westeros with her presence.

"Such powerful cries for a small little one."

"She's a dragon. Her cries are like roars."

"You, Aelyssa Targaryen, are going to be great."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

117 AC- Aelyssa is 5

Aelyssa is conflicted. Her mother is pregnant and she is to have a sibling. She is only 5 moons old, she doesn't know how to be a big sister. She isn't allowed in the birthing room but if her mother's cries are anything to go by it seems like it isn't the place to be right now.

In the birthing room, Lady Martell isn't doing so well. The maesters are concerned with something.

"My lady, it seems as if the baby is breached somehow."

"I just need to push a little more, please!"

Maester Osferth looks at the woman with a solemn look. Daemon notices.

"What is it? Can she not continue pushing?"

"Well, my prince. It would be ill-advised to do so. Perhaps we could try and cut-"

"No, absolutely not! You will not cut her like some animal!"

Y/n looks up at Daemon, "My prince."

"My love."

"I fear the babe and I will not make it."

"Don't say that."

Y/n grips Daemon's hand, hard.

"And Aelyssa will need you more than ever. The rest of the realm will not be kind to her. You need to hold her and love her as you do now.

"I swear it."

Lady Y/n's grip on her lover loosens and she takes her last breath

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

118 AC - Aelyssa is 6

It has been one moon since Lady Martell's death and the baby. Once Lady Martell had died, they cut out the baby for burial. It was a boy.

Aelyssa has not gotten over it. She mourns in her room and has her food delivered to her door.

Her father has dragged her out of her chambers to break their fast. She hasn't taken one bite.

"Zaldrītsos, can you please eat something?"

"I am not hungry."

Daemon sighs, "Aelyssaa. You are grieving, so am I, but I do not want you starving yourself. Your mother would not want you to starve yourself."

"I'm just not hungry, father. It has nothing to do with Muña."

Daemon walks over to her and grabs her hand, "Come with me."

They walk out of the dining hall and down to the crypts. Aelyssa marvels at her people's ancestral burial place. They stop in front of Y/n's coffin. Daemon gestures for her to kneel.

"Hello, my love. It has been one moon since you were taken by the Stranger. We are grieving, but it is hard without you here. Our little sand-dragon is having trouble adjusting, naturally. Maybe this can give her peace of mind."

Aelyssa places her hands on her mother's coffin, "Hello, Muña. I admit that I am not doing well with your passing. I am not eating, but I cannot find the strength to eat. Not when you're not sitting with us. I know that you wouldn't like it, and I would try to cope better. There are also talks of my ascension as Dorne's new lady. Aunt Nymeria rules in my stead until I am ready."

Tears roll down Aelyssa's face. She makes no move to wipe them.

"I have ignored father, which I know I should not do as he is the only parent I have, but it is hard. I hope that you are looking down at us from the heavens and shall be proud of the woman I become."

Aelyssa launches into Daemon's arms, unable to hold her sobs.

"Oh, my sand-dragon. It's ok. The hole of grief is never filled, but you learn to live with their memory. I am always here. Do not be scared to come to me with anything that dwells in your head. The ones who love us and the ones we love, never truly leave us."

Daemon and Aelyssa spent that night in the crypt, sleeping beside Y/n.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

125 AC - Aelyssa is 12

It has been 3 moons since Former Lady Martell's death. Aelyssa is still having some trouble adjusting.

She and Daemon are sparring in the training yard of Pentos. Instead of putting her all into it as usual, Aelyssa's been lagging and her father can tell.

"Stop."

Aelyssa looks up at her father, confused. "What? Why?"

Daemon takes her sword from her hand and kneels down, leveling with her.

"What troubles you, my little sunshine?"

"Nothing. Can we finish, Father?"

Daemon narrows his eyes, "No. We can talk about what's distracting you."

She sighs. Father always knows.

"You have married Lady Laena and she is with child, you will forget about me."

"Why would I ever push you aside? You are my firstborn. Nothing will change that."

"But your children will be legitimate in the eyes of the Seven Kingdoms- well six, Dorne doesn't count. The lords, ladies, and the king, I am naught but a bastard to them. And your children might rule Driftmark, a powerful ally to the King. What am I but a future Lady to a kingdom that will never ally with the rest."

Daemon caressed Aelyssa's face. His eyes softened. He remembers Y/n's last words: The rest of the realm will not be kind to her. You need to hold her and love her.

"You are my daughter. Not a political tool. Legitimate or not, I don't care. My brother can moan and groan about you all he wants. I fell in love with your mother and still hold so much love for her. Every time I look at you, I see her. And that fills me with so much happiness because our love created something so beautiful and precious."

"I am not yet sold on Lady Laena. It will take time."

"I do not intend to rush you. Just understand that I still love you and always will. Nothing will ever change that."

"Love you too."

Aelyssa hugs Daemon. Not too keen on his reassurance but she trusts his word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

137 AC- Aelyssa is 14 (Rhaenyra and Daemon have married and now this is following the last few episodes of S1)

Aelyssa is dressed in gold yellow with hints of red and black. She is pacing in front of closed throne room doors. Daemon is watching her, amused.

"Have you reached the sand yet?"

Aelyssa glares at her father.

"Not the time. I'm nervous and Mother is not here to advise me. I fear I will dishonor her and my ancestors."

Daemon grabs Aelyssa's shoulders to stop her pacing.

"You will be great. You have not dishonored me, therefore you have not and will not dishonor her. Your mother would want you to rule Dorne however you see fit. Now, are you ready?"

Daemon holds his arm out. Aelyssa latches onto him. The doors open. They walk. The room is quiet and all eyes are on their soon-to-be Lady. They reached the front and Ser Cyrbon led Aelyssa up the steps and she sat on her throne.

"I present to you all, Aelyssa Martell, daughter of Y/n Martell, and your Lady! Hail Lady Aelyssa!"

"Hail Lady Aelyssa!"

It's done. You are now Lady of Dorne. You should address the people.

"To my people of Dorne. I welcome you to the new dawn of our kingdom. I intend to rule as my mother did and more. But know this, Dorne will forever remain: Unbowed, Unbent, and Unbroken!"

The people cheered, the guards looked on in pride. Daemon smiles, and the sun- the sun shines a bit brighter on you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

141 AC - Aelyssa is 18

No body was found. The search was in vain. We burn his clothes in place of his body.

Aelyssa is conflicted. She knows not how to comfort her cousins and her sisters. She walks up to Rhaenyra, careful.

"He will be avenged, I swear it."

They walk into the council room. Making battle plans. Rhaenyra and Aelyssa make eye contact throughout the meeting.

"Cousin, I ask you this because I need it. I could use your help."

"Dorne will not fight in a war which is not theirs."

"I am desperate."

"Lucerys did not die in vain. Justice will come but not from us, I'm afraid."

Aelyssa pulls Rhaenyra into a hug.

"I pray to the gods that you are successful. I can't wait to see you on the throne, Cousin. The Iron Throne.

fin.

And if Aelyssa sent Blood & Cheese instead of Daemon, no one will know.

#daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #my writing #hotd daemon #send asks #caratheewriter

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 years ago

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I'll be full of the love you want

rated t cw: self-doubt, relationship doubt, light angst tags: happy ending, hurt/comfort-ish, super fluffy romantic words being said

a/n: firstly I am writing this absolute fluff because i've been listening to sleep token and decided i could handle listening to blood sport (i couldn't) and so now we get this fluff. second of all, i feel like before anyone comes for my throat, i LOVE nancy. i hate what the duffer brothers have reduced her character to canonically. she has so much potential, just sitting there, and what are they doing with it? making her worse. i do think that she is just very bad at reading what's appropriate to say to people, and that's what happens here. assume that it gets fixed and she apologizes later, this entire thing is to focus on the boys.

Sometimes, Nancy’s subtle comments remained in Steve’s chest, an unbearable weight that felt crushing.

“Eddie has plans, and they may not involve you.”

That’s what she’d said to him when he told her they were dating.

No congratulations, no friendly smile or hug, not even the expected game of 20 questions.

The words played on loop in his head as he found an excuse to leave movie night early, as he drove home, as he took a shower.

He barely slept that night.

Nancy was right in a way; Eddie did have plans.

—-

“She what?” Eddie yelled.

“Eds-”

“No, that’s. Stevie, you know how ridiculous that is, don’t you?”

He did.

But he also…didn’t.

It really wasn’t that ridiculous to think that maybe his boyfriend of barely a month would have plans that didn’t involve Steve.

Steve may be head over heels in love with him, but he hadn’t said that.

“Is it?” Steve asked, not looking up at Eddie pacing in front of him.

Eddie stopped in front of him, dropping to his knees on the floor between Steve’s parted legs.

His hands gripped Steve’s knees, squeezing in silent comfort.

“Sweetheart, I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I’m all in with us. I’m not going anywhere that you can’t or don’t want to follow. If someone sends me to the moon, you better start packing your bags,” Eddie left a kiss on his thigh, looking up at Steve’s wide, glassy eyes. “I don’t think she meant to hurt you, Stevie. I’d just talked to her about the band possibly going to Chicago for a show soon and how excited we were about producers being there.”

“And if they like you guys, you’ll leave. And you should! I don’t wanna hold you back. I just was so wrapped up in the now, ya know?”

Eddie looked up at him, eyes squinting at him for a moment before he stood up.

He sat down on the bed and pulled Steve onto him so he was straddling his thighs.

“You are more than just my now, Steve Harrington.”

Steve’s heart fluttered in his chest.

Eddie cupped his face in his hands, leaning his head down so their foreheads rested against each other.

“We’ve seen the end of the world together, we’ve seen each other at our worst, at our bruised, at our most vulnerable. You’re my entire world now, and in the future.” Eddie let out a shaky breath, something foreign for him, usually so confident in his words. “I love you. It might scare you off, but I do. I haven’t stopped picturing my future with you in it. Nothing could drag me away from you, not the band, not the kids, not myself. I’m yours, for the long haul, wherever that takes both of us.”

Steve sniffled, the tears pooling in his eyes fighting so hard to fall.

“You can’t say stuff like that,” he squeaked out.

“Why can’t I?”

“I might believe it.”

Eddie tugged him closer, one hand on the back of his head holding him against his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his waist.

“I need you to believe it, love. There is nothing that will keep me from loving you. If Vecna himself couldn’t, then Nancy’s words sure as shit won’t.”

And it could be simple.

It could.

Steve could believe it, he could say the words back, he could plan a real future with Eddie, something he’d never been able to do with anyone else.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Eddie interrupted his thoughts, his hand squeezing Steve’s hip.

Steve pulled back, looking at Eddie’s earnest face.

“I’m scared to love you the way that I do,” Steve admitted, voice barely more than a whisper.

Eddie heard him, though.

He beamed up at Steve.

“You can be scared, but you can love me anyway,” Eddie shrugged, as if it could actually be that simple.

Love was a silly thing.

Steve felt it easily, for Robin, for the kids, for the Byers’, even Nancy still. He’d known what he felt for Eddie was love way before this conversation, but he hadn’t realized how much that love could grow when it was reciprocated.

Eddie looked at him now like he already knew, like Steve holding back wasn’t changing the fact that Steve had loved him for months now, maybe even longer.

“You can love me, Stevie. I want you to love me. Love me the way you feel,” Eddie continued.

His words cut through his heart, but in a different way than Nancy’s had.

Steve never got to love people the way he felt, always too much, always overwhelming.

His parents taught him not to be needy, let people show their love from a distance and don’t force your attention and care on them.

Nancy taught him that he couldn’t be someone else just because he wanted to love someone, that he had to accept that love wasn’t always enough for a relationship.

Eddie, though.

Eddie had taught him that there was nothing shameful about being loud with your passion, with your love. He taught him that he can’t hold back his feelings, not for anyone, especially not for himself.

He was showing him, more every day, that loving someone can and should be fulfilling.

He couldn’t be scared of loving Eddie, not when Eddie had always shown him how to be brave.

“I love you so much,” Steve gasped out.

It wasn’t the declaration he’d planned, or even wanted, but that somehow made it better for them.

Eddie’s beaming smile proved that even further.

“I’m so in love with you, I don’t know what to do with it all. I just keep thinking that one day I’ll wake up and feel less, but I just keep feeling more. I’m not good with words like you are, but I love you,” Steve added, finally gaining his voice.

“Feels good, right?”

“To love you?”

Eddie leaned up, kissed his chin, then the corner of his mouth.

“To show it to someone who wants it.”

Steve bit his lip, realizing that yeah, it did feel good. Really good.

“You’re gonna get so tired of me loving you.”

It was said as a joke, but it was his last genuine fear. The one thing that he knew always happened.

“I will never get tired of you loving me. Not for a single second. Not even when we’re old dudes sitting on our porch yelling at the kids with the loud music,” Eddie poked his side as he spoke.

“You won’t ever yell at anyone for loud music.”

“You never know. I could become a grumpy old man. Will you still love me?” Eddie pouted up at him.

“I think I’d love any version of you. Actually, I know I would.” “And you say I’m the sappy one.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #light angst #happy ending #fluff

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neonlight2 · 2 years ago

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Jaehaera Targaryen (oc)

Masterlist

How did everyone react to her growing up and becoming more… scandalous? (Part 1)

Warning: small intervals of absolutely filthy smut— you’ve been warned.

Post “brothel incident”

Viserys

Where to begin…

The man man was absolutely belligerent when he found out about the small “trip” Daemon had taken Jaehaera and Rhaenyra on.

I think we all know that Daemon would get the brunt of it. He gets banished, as we know, and Rhaenyra is given the moon tea— which Jaehaera witnessed.

The banishment she did not. She would find that out later, early in the morning.

No, she was with Rhaenyra all the way through. As Viserys chewed into his heir more viscously than he’d ever before. I’m fact, Jaehaera may have even viewed him as a threat; the feeling would nullify not to long after however. She sat back, out of respect and some fear by the hard glare her father had given to her when she tried to argue for Rhaenyra. There she sat, until her father left— without a word said to her— and she watched as a cup was placed in front of Rhaenyra by one of the maesters.

Thus her hatred for them intensified ten fold.

She saw the way Rhaenyra’s eyes welled up with tears, and Jaehaera even offered to toss it out the window.

“No one need know Nyra. Just ask me so and it’ll be done.”

Rhaenyra shook her head and downed it in one gulp. A single tear trailed down the girls cheek, flicked off by the soft pad of Jaehaera’s thumb. She kneeled before the other princess, holding her face close to her own, whispering sweet nothings and hymns in valerian. It only took a few minutes for Rhaenyra to fall asleep, like putty in the magical girl’s hands, and that’s when Jaehaera bid her goodnight with a kiss.

Jaehaera would then seek out her father, pinning the growing knot to the depths of her stomach. This would be one of the moments the girl had ever felt truly scared after being rescued. Treacherous thoughts bubbled at the surface of her anxiety like clockwork.

You’ve done it now.

You’re spoiled goods.

You’re repulsive, and there’s no getting your reputation back.

He’ll toss you aside now.

He finally sees you as you are.

She simply swallowed them back the best she could as she twisted the door knob of the hidden entrance, leading to Viserys chambers, tight enough to tame the tremor in her hands.

“Father I know I have shamed you, I come to apologize. Please do not blame Rhaenyra, she would not have gone if I had not agreed, and Daemon—,”

“He’s been banished.”

Jaehaera would be taken back by the information, but then thought she should have known. She’d stare at the back of Viserys head, for he would not look at her. So she did the only thing she knew. She groveled, and she pleaded.

“My king, I understand if you wish me gone. Just order me to do so and I’ll be gone by daylight. All I ask is that I be allowed to take Shrykos with me. We’re bonded, and I’m afraid of what she might do if separated from me—,”

“What in the seven hells are you talking about child?!” Viserys would suddenly be in front of her, eyes wide, eyebrow furrowed, and mouth agape in disbelief to what he was hearing.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I swear I would never use her or any other dragon against the royal family—,” Jaehaera carried on, misunderstanding his expression for outrage due to her request.

“You’re family,” Viserys interrupted, grabbing the girl by the arm to hoist her up, “You are royal. You are a dragon. You are a Targaryen— my daughter.”

His nose would scrunch up in disgust. Not at her, never at her, but at himself. Had he truly made her think such a thing? That he would give her up? After all this time, he’d at least thought he made it clear how much her cherished her.

“I am merely angry my dear,” he scoffed, “and truly not even for your actions, nor Rhaenyra’s. You’re both children and wild, so was I. I am angered by your reputations being questioned, and so easily at that. I was only hard on Rhaenyra because she is my heir. Her reputation being at stake puts her hold to the throne at risk.”

Viserys would spend hours trying to convince Jaehaera that this would mean nothing. That this event would go by, that all would be well, that she would need not worry about leaving or being asked to do so. He’d continue to remind her that this was her home. Her family. Until the sun rose, he’d tell her that. It was only when she fell asleep at his feet, after fiddling with a new wooden project, that he realized that it was himself he was trying to convince.

Were his words enough.

Viserys would from then on put a warning on Jaehaera’s name. The first time someone else questioned her honor after that day, they were dismissed, dismembered, or disappeared. This brought a hushed whisper when the princess was brought into conversation at court. But she could feel their eyes. Jaehaera just chose to ignore them, later finding it funny to wink or bite jokingly at them— making most of them flinch either way.

And when it came to favors or requests… well Jaehaera had never been denied before.

It was rather easy to have Edeline become her private maid. (The princess had offered ladyship, but the girl refused, wishing to not take part of court. However, Jaehaera forbid her from actually ever working without getting paid.)

Otto

Holy shit this man would not get off Jaehaera’s back.

Spies would always try and follow her around, find out information on what or who she was doing. Key word being try.

Jaehaera knew about them of course. You can’t exactly sneak up on a shadow. They were playing her game; they were bound to lose.

So— naturally, Jaehaera took this as an act of war, and she did what she did best… making Otto Hightower look irrelevant.

Whatever he knew, she knew first. Whenever he was conjuring up a scheme, she was there to stop it. And if he even dared to whisper in the kings ear in order to persuade his opinion— let’s just say Jaehaera was standing on the other side of her father, listening, and laughing at his audacity. Particularly when it came to the affairs of her beloveds.

“You’re majesty, you’re brother is far to rash, even if he wins the war what would stop him from creating another one from within these very walls—,”

“I could always go.” She’d suggest, practically scaring Otto out of his skin.

“To war?” Both men would ask, their tones differing greatly.

Calming the smugness threatening to rise up her cheeks, the princess nodded. “I’ve enough skill in strategy, and I’ve bested every soldier you’ve put in front of me. This is a small war as well, it should be a great one for me to begin with.”

“We’ll that would be preposterous—,”

“Very well.”

Otto almost lost his eyes due to shock that day. A woman— a princess was allowed into battle, to accompany the Rogue prince, and then proceeded to win AND rekindle the peace between the two siblings.

He was livid.

Oh and how he hated as she got closer to Alicent. His daughter had always adored the younger girl, finding no flaw. She would not here of any slander, not even from her father. Which only grew worse after he pushed her to marry Viserys.

He’d hoped that this would have put some rift in the girl’s relationship, it had with the other, Princess Rhaenyra. But no matter how hard he tried to place wicked thoughts of doubt into Alicent’s head regarding the raven haired dragon, she would become deaf to his words. She drifted from his control, became more independent. More defiant.

The only thing that brought him ease was the thought of his grandson succeeding the throne. But Jaehaera seemed to kill that dream as well.

“Perhaps if the princess were to marry… prince Aegon?”

A gagging noise came from behind him and Viserys, who also looked disgusted by the notion. Jaehaera quickly wrapped her arms around the back of her fathers chair, “The boy is barely two! That is foul.”

Viserys would hear no more of it.

All of this only egged Otto on to take revenge. And he only knew one way to do it.

He went for Jaehaera’s cherished handmaiden, Edeline.

He thought it would be the easiest, for she were a mere servant.

First, the plan was simple. Expose the true nature of the princess and the maid’s relationship to court, that way Viserys could no longer turn a blind eye, and he’d have to banish the girl from the grounds.

Yeah that didn’t work out to well…

Their breathing was haggard, filling the palace hall’s shamefully with desperate whines and the slapping of skin. Lords and Ladies passed by with burning cheeks, while others simply stopped to watch as the couple pleasured themselves— in their own room. The door was left open, inviting any onlookers to watch as the princess tossed the girl around like a rag doll. She held her thighs firm to the mattress as she ravaged her maid, before pulling away and turning her over to show the audience her weeping cunt. Or she’d bend her over the mattress, slapping the same sensitive area, then fucking her relentlessly with her fingers. Only to flip her over once again, after she had cum for the fifth time, to ride her Edeline’s face, making sure to make a good show for Otto’s spies— who had in fact opened the door (not knowing that she had left it unlocked for that very reason).

Let’s just say, she wasn’t reprimanded— and Viserys had Otto’s spies trialed.

Since that didn’t work, Otto thought he’d have someone — paid off knights— harass the poor girl instead until she finally left on her own accord.

Yeah… those guys ended up dead.

And it was only until a certain incident that he’d be able to hurt Edeline. That would also be the day his death sentence was written.

Rhaenys and Corlys

Literally could not give a shit. I stand by my statement that Corlys is an ally. He had a rough patch at first but as time past, let’s be real— he’s an ally. (He is in my story cause I said so)

Man believes in equal chances, so if men get to sleep around, then so do women. Simple as that. (Unless if they’re married and have promised to be loyal— not a Laenor and Rhaenyra situation— cause he doesn’t fuck around with infidelity.) I swear if Daemon had cheated on Laena, all hell would have broke loose.

Anyway— his son is also gay, and Laena is bi, so at this point he just has to expect that fruitiness is in his genes. And he treats Jaehaera like a daughter, so it’s not that big of a deal.

ALSO he hates Otto. So does Rhaenys. Because Jaehaera definitely talks shit about him to them all the time. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has in fact just traveled over to see them to vent and rant about how much of a pain in the ass Otto has been.

Oh, and they both know Edeline– everyone does let’s just clear the air. Corlys is kinda neutral about his feelings toward the girl. He doesn’t think anyone is good enough for Jaehaera, but Edeline makes her happy so he likes her in that since— and is kind to her/protects her when he can because Jaehaera cares for her.

Rhaenys, however, more of a love-hate relationship. No matter how hard she tries the only fault she can find in the girl is that she wished Jaehaera to be with Laena more. Selfish reason she knows. But she ships hardcore. But she definitely wouldn’t go out of her way to be cruel to her either.

(We’ll get more into that later.)

Daemon

He loves it… kinda.

Daemon revels in Jaehaera’s mischief, chaos, and numerous of scandals, which only grew after the whole brothel incident. But what he loved the most is when he’s apart of her shenanigans.

When he was banished, in the beginning he would live for the stories of what Jaehaera would do. However, as time passed and the tales grew wilder, Daemon became restless. Soon what had become fun and humorous was now something he envied and longed for.

And he promised himself that after he won the war, he would never be without the girl for too long.

Although, he didn’t expect her to appear in front of him before the battle began.

“Have you missed me, my Prince?”

The way he would have RAN to her.

It didn’t matter that she was now his height, or that she was clad in armor— begrudgingly due to her father’s request. Daemon was simply elated and showed it by tossing her in the air, before engulfing her in a hug.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” She’d joke, petting his head like an excited dog. “You know this would not have been a problem if you would simply stop getting banished.”

“I might have to take your advice.” He whispered, laying dozens of kisses along her neck, cheeks, and finally her brow.

“Would you kindly unhand my dear friend, Prince Daemon?” Laenor would interject, only earning a glare and a shove from Corlys. “What?! We need her to debrief!”

Oh and during the battle he’d gossip like a young lady in court, wanting to know if all the rumors were true.

When he returns to court, he keeps his promise and doesn’t get banished. He leaves on his own accord, often after Jaehaera would leave as well. He couldn’t stand being in court without her. Everything always seemed rather…dull. He had Rhaenyra of course, but she felt like forbidden ground. No matter how much he wished, Daemon couldn’t bring himself to go to her. He thought he was sparing her, taking away the temptation. As if he did know what went on between her and Sir Strong. Nor did she seem to acknowledge whatever relations he had.

Speaking of relations… Daemon and Laena.

That incredible ship is also thanks to Jaehaera.

The night of Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding, that obviously went to shit, Jaehaera danced with everyone she found pleasant. Yet she saved the most for Daemon and Laena. She had caught the looks shared between them, and found herself intrigued. It wasn’t long before Jaehaera left the cloak that had been wrapped around her frame go, revealing a dressed made specially from this very occasion— a gift from her father.

It was rare that the princess wore a dress, and for most a once in a life time opportunity.

The silk hugged her body until it reached the end of her spine, flowing out enough for it to take up a third of the floor when she spun. It was scarlet red, to no surprise, and accented with the finest gold, highlighting the glided plates covering her breasts. She look like a temptress, ready to plunge her sword into your heart if you dared to come too close.

This caught the attention of almost every lord or lady, and Jaehaera couldn’t help but grin as she watched Daemon and Laena’s gaze flicker between her and each other. Therefore, it almost shocked the girl when Lady Laena was the first to move, making her way toward the princess with those flirtatious eyes.

Gods she was gorgeous.

And if Jaehaera hadn’t cared for Daemon, she may have simply stolen the lady away to have her all to herself. That did give her an idea though.

In between the midst of a feverish dance, the eighth of the night for the inseparable trio— where touches had grown all consuming and more persistent in nature— Daemon finally relented to the constant teasing Jaehaera inflicted on them both. He halted their movements when it was his turn with her, whilst she kept an eye on their prime target of infatuation.

“What are you playing at Issa jaesa?”

“Why? Do you not wish to play anymore?” She asked with a teasing look.

Growing increasingly more restless, Daemon gripped the back neck to cease her wandering gaze. “I don’t like being left out of the rules.”

“Aw Dae,” she cooed at him like a child whilst running her nails through his recently cut hair. “You should know by now that there’s no rules.”

She’d escape his grip with a quick, hard tug of his hair, sliding under his arm to retrieve the Lady Laena. The daughter of the Lord of Driftmark giggled as Jaehaera pulled her close, swaying to music with playful sensuality. Soon the Princess would shift their feet in a new direction, disguising it with twists and twirls, and in a few seconds the girls had escaped the frenzy of the lively dance floor.

Daemon watched closely as Jaehaera led Laena away, hand firm on her waist while continuing to whisper in her ear. He didn’t miss the wink she sent him before they made their exit however.

It too him longer to make his way through, another way for the gods to punish him once again, because every lady of age wished to seduce the rough prince who was free of engagement. And every othe lord w wanted to congratulate him on his successes or talk his ear off for a proposal.

When he finally broke free to, one might say he was running out the door. The Prince walked furiously, keeping his ears open for an either of their voices— until he noticed a crack in the wall.

Sneaking his way through the small, practically unnoticeable, entryway, Daemon finally heard them. And what he saw matched the obscenities he had been imagining all afternoon.

Hidden in the darkness of the secret passageway, Laena was pressed against the cold stone walls. Her skin was flush, matching her shallow breathing and mewling whispers muffled by the back of her own hand. Small spots of red and purple decorated the top of her breast— low enough to hide later but not now when they pressed firmly against her bodice. Whilst her dress was bunched up at her hips, which were being pinned down by Jaehaera as she ravaged the girls wetness as if it were the elixir of life.

All of this was no shock to the Prince; he knew that that the fellow dragon’s hunger battled his. Yet he couldn’t help but laugh at the position she had contorted the Lady in.

It would seem the Princess would kneel for nothing other than her duty or honor, for rather than stooping to devour Lady Laena’s cunt, she simply elevated her lover. She held the woman firm to the wall, legs laid atop her shoulders, as she held her hips and the plush of her ass. The sight drove Dameon mad with lust, and he could feel as the blood rushed to his cock, leaving a bulge for both the women to notice as proof.

“Isn’t she wonderful Daemon?” Jaehaera asked, humming each word to make Laena’s head rush with ecstasy. “Look at how she quivers against my tongue.”

Daemon did as he was told, watching as Jaehaera’s tongue pressed and prodded against Laena cunt, before answering in a low tone. “You’re both magnificent.”

Laena let out a cry at the sudden sting against her swollen bud, looking down at the princess with pleasing eyes.

“He gave us a compliment, Issa gevie nymph. Be a good girl and thank him.” My beautiful nymph

Daemon groaned at the order, rubbing himself shamelessly through his pants. And he swore under his breath as the lady followed it without hesitation.

“T-thank you my prince, you are en-enchanting as well.”

“Oh look at her Daemon,” Jaehaera cooed with a patronizing tone, “talking like a proper lady. As if she isn’t getting herself off by riding my tongue as you watch.”

Her point only being proven as Laena whines and bucks her hips up as Jaehaera pulled her face away.

“Oh don’t act like a brat now,” she said, pushing two fingers into the Lady’s mouth for her to suck on. “Not when you’re doing so well.”

At some point Daemon couldn’t take it anymore and rid of his pants, stroking himself at the filthy sight. Glancing over at him, a sinister smile makes its way up the princess’s face.

“Don’t worry Daemon, you can have fun with her after I get another one out of her.”

Another one. Daemon hand stopped at the base of his cock, knowing he would cum just at the thought if he didn’t pace himself.

“She’s already cum?” He asked, just to torture himself further.

“Yes,” Jaehaera purred, testing Laena by pushing her fingers even farther back, until she was satisfied. “She’s rather sensitive Dae, it was only seconds before you joined us.”

Removing her drenched fingers for Laena’s mouth she spread them, watching as threads of spit spread across them. “Well done love, I suppose you deserve your reward now.”

Without a seconds notice the princess curled her fingers into Laena’s warmth, watching intently as her eyes were level with the woman’s sex.

“Lo ao lua bona bē nyke’ll spill isse issa ondos.” If you keep that up I’ll spill in my hand. Daemon spoke in an array of grunts and moans as he kept fucking into his fist.

Paying no mind, Jaehaera responded simply. “Umbagon.” Wait.

Her tone didn’t help at all.

Mercilessly, Jaehaera continued to curl her fingers just right, attacking Laena’s place of pleasure just right until she could barely think for herself.

“Do you fancy Prince Daemon?” Jaehaera asked with genuine inquiry. “I saw the way you were staring at him,” she glanced over at the him for a moment as well, “and you know he fancies you.”

“Yesyesyes—,” Laena sputter as Jaehaera pressed the pad of her thumb against her clit.

Smiling adoringly at the answer, Jaehaera nodded, making sure to drive the lady before her dumb with pleasure. “Would you like to marry him?”

The question made Laena and Daemon glance at each other before looking at Jaehaera with the same confusion.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. It would be great for the both of you,” she commented with an unfamiliar twinkle in her eyes, “Daemon wouldn’t have to deal with constant annoyances, and you would be married to someone interesting rather than a simple, mediocre lord.”

Jaehaera lifted her up farther, as if she were a feather in her hand, and used the leverage to thrust her fingers into her faster, harder. Laena’s eyes went white.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes!”

“Dameon?” Jaehaera question with a the same smile he saw that day during the festival as she danced with him for hours. “I am quite fond of her.”

He couldn’t say no.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t too long after that Laena came, her body quivering against Jaehaera’s, and whimpering as she felt her fingers leave her empty.

“No need to cry Issa gevie nymph, Daemon’s gonna take care of you now,” Jaehaera comforted her, caressing her thighs and face as she lowered her down. “And he’ll stuff you full again, if you want him to.”

Daemon’s jaw practically unhinged as he threw back his head at the idea. The most he had expected was for her mouth wrapped around him, but it would seem Jaehaera had other plans entirely.

“Is that what you want?” Jaehaera asked with a softer tone as Laena’s head bobbed incoherently. “You want him to fill you up? That way the King and your father would no longer have a choice but to wed you.”

That’s exactly what happened.

Jaehaera held Laena from behind, teasing her breasts and clit as Daemon fucked her relentlessly. He became crazed by the sight of the two women, as one crumbled between them, and the other touches were Daemon and Laena’s bodies merged. And in the end, all three shared a kiss of their own, and the two dragons helped Lady Laena become presentable once again.

When they returned to the banquet, both escorted her to her seat, whispering sweet nothings in her ear along the way. Laenor was the first to notice, and he couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.

Later he would come up to Jaehaera as Daemon and her split ways after what seemed to be a intense conversation, and she returned to the festivities. He would pull her arm over to his side of the table with drink in hand, letting out a yelling-whisper.

“You sisterfucker!” (He would call her that from then on whenever they were bickering.)

And… we all know the rest of the night went to shit.

Daemon would also know of Edeline, and he liked to keep their interactions to a minimum because he knows how much Jaehaera cares for her. Which means to keep his jealousy at ease, he distances himself from the trigger. Not to mention… she kinda terrifies him. Jaehaera is extremely protective of her, and he didn’t want to at the wrong end of her fury… as Otto had.

Rhaenyra

✨Jealousy✨

Sorry but it needs to be said. Like don’t get me wrong, Rhaenyra wouldn’t be too obsessive or anything, but she would get jealous easily. Especially when she’s younger, first few times seeing Jaehaera sweet talk women and actually mean her flirtations— it would drive her crazy and most of the time she would just take it out on the Ladies by disregarding them in court and refusing their friendship. Don’t even get started on Edeline.

She hated the way she was constantly by Jaehaera’s side after the brothel incident. Rhaenyra was already a bit emotional after the scene because of the confrontation with her father, so seeing this random girl suddenly appear out of nowhere— who became Jaehaera’s prized, personal maid in a fortnight— really sent her over the edge. Now she had to deal with Alicent and this girl named Edeline, and Daemon was banished so she had no help to cope.

However, one could call it a little melodramatic because Jaehaera gave her the most attention between the three without any coercion.

But Rhaenyra couldn’t get over how Jaehaera began to pull away from her during the night. She would begin to not share her bed more and more frequently, until Rhaenyra inevitably married Laenor. Then she stopped sharing it entirely.

Something else that also irked the Princess a bit was when Jaehaera started to push Rhaenyra toward Sir Harwin’s advances. Of course, this wasn’t because Rhaenyra didn’t like the night, quite the opposite actually. She had fancied him before she did Sir Criston, and only Jaehaera knew. She was the only way for the two to send each other letters or gifts, yet as Jaehaera became more occupied by Edeline or someone else who caught her eye, she seemed to approve of the pair even more than before. And while Rhaenyra would pursue the relationship further later on, she thought this was Jaehaera’s way of further distancing herself.

Harwin, after the he and Rhaenyra became more intimate, would later discourage the thought. He knew them both well enough, and Jaehaera had always been honest if nothing else. So he insisted that Jaehaera simply wished for Rhaenyra to be happy as she was.

Innocent and helpful in his mind, but in Rhaenyra’s it just seemed to confirm her own paranoia: Jaehaera was drifting from her and to make up for it she gave her Sir Harwin as a substitute.

And it didn’t help that Jaehaera began to leave, or voyage more frequently after she got married— not to mention Daemon had left and married Laena, who Jaehaera adored as well. (But it’s canon that Rhaenyra also really liked Laena too, because I will have no Laena hate in this universe.)

Again— here’s where the babies come in.

She noticed after she had Jace that Jaehaera spent increasingly more time at Kings Landing when she had a baby, which she did not do for Alicent’s children— which filled Rhaenyra with delight. A tiny victory in her eyes.

Although, no matter how hard she’d try to seduce or captivate Jaehaera’s full attention—

By unabashedly flirting with her, and holding her in private or public it mattered not.

“Rhaenyra!” Jaehaera would whisper loudly in playful scolding, as the other Princess’s hand had snuck its way down to squeeze her ass as they walked down the corridor.

Giggling maniacally, Jaehaera asks, “What’s gotten into you Nyra?!” She squeals as Rhaenyra kissed her where she were able. All while she stares directly at Alicent who sat only a few feet away from the pair, next to Viserys.

Oh and the “innocent” favors she asks for…

“Thank you for doing this Issa qēlos,” my star Rhaenyra said with a relieved sigh as Jaehaera’s hands massaged into her naked skin.

She was laid out bare, covered in the finest oil breast to thighs, while Jaehaera stood a over her skimming across her skin. Rhaenyra had asked her to massage where she had collected stretch marks from pregnancy, and she didn’t hesitate to help.

“Why don’t you have your handmaiden do this?” The raven haired girl mused, hands moving up and down her thighs— threateningly close to where Rhaneyra wanted her to touch the most as she ghosted passed to her stomach.

Gulping, the princess answered with a short laugh. “Their hands were to dainty.”

“Oh?” Jaehaera asked, squeezing harder below Rhaenyra’s breast— making her squeal.

One time she talked Jaehaera into bathing with her, leading to her making a whole hot spring for the two of them to enjoy while she was there for a month.

“Isn’t this fun?” Rhaenyra asked as the two women washed each others hair.

Humming, Jaehaera nods. “Reminds me of when we were younger. We were always with one another.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between the two, both reminiscing the past with fondness while brushing through the others hair. Something else they would often do in their youth, refusing all others who wished to do their hair.

“Don’t go.” Jaehaera stilled her movements, glancing back at Rhaenyra, who was already staring at her. “It could always be like this if you stay, so just don’t go.” She begged.

“I have to Nyra.”

“Why? Because father said so? You know he’d change his mind if you were to ask—,”

“Rhaenyra,” Jaehaera hand cupped her cheek, her voice growing firm. “I am going.”

Leaning into her touch, Rhaenyra looked at Jaehaera in confusion. Why would she leave me..if she knew she could stay?

It wasn’t long until her thoughts consumed her, and all she could think to do was press her lips against Jaehaera’s quickly. Maybe then she would see? She thought to herself, holding Jaehaera tight so they were chest to chest, mouths intertwined with every ounce of passion Rhaenyra could give.

And when she noticed that Jaehaera made no move to stop her, she only continued. Within seconds their bodies were entangled, making the heat almost unbearable. Eventually, Rhaenyra would find Jaehaera losing herself as well— pushing her tongue passed her teeth to battle her own. Never had Rhaenyra been so happy, never had she felt such excitement residing in the pit of her stomach, traveling to her core.

Soon, her hands began to travel, and all was well before she reach between Jaehaera’s legs, pressing her palm flat against her sex.

That’s when it all ended.

“No—,” Jaehaera tore herself away from Rhaenyra’s feverish lips. “Not yet.”

Shaking out a disappointed sigh, the princess whispered, “When?” As her lips hovered so close to the ones she had longed for, for years.

“When everything is done.” Jaehaera answered softly, a small smile putting Rhaenyra to ease, even when she had no idea what she was speaking of.

However, the next day, Jaehaera had left— three days before she had told Rhaenyra she would leave. And suddenly, Otto was banished, and Rhaenyra was told of the horrible tragedy that took place mere hours after they returned back to the palace.

Jaehaera didn’t return for a long time, only making a brief appearance at Laena’s funeral, then to leave before Rhaenyra and Daemon married.

Only one letter seemed to bring her back, mentioning of treason, and that Otto had returned. And she came back with a new vengeance in her eyes.

Laenor and Laena

To start off.. I put these two together because first, Laenor is the reason Laena knows of Jaehaera’s scandalous behavior, before she meets her of course. The man can’t keep his mouth shut, especially if he’s drunk. Plus— he’s a gossip girl, and super close to his sister.

So Laena had heard of Jaehaera’s silly antics, chaotic mischief, and promiscuous activities. And in the beginning she’d be lying if she didn’t say she was a little skeptical about meeting her. But after a while the idea of meeting the princess made her antsy.

Which brings me to this— Laena did NOT meet Jaehaera at the wedding. Just to clear the air. Jaehaera might be forward, but she also understands boundaries. And as charismatic and charming Jaehaera is, Laena would not put out on first meetings.

They would have met one of the many times Jaehaera visited Driftmark, whether it be just to visit and rant or rave, or to chart a course for a new voyage Viserys had ordered or let her envoy.

At first they’d be introduced by Rhaenys, who practically pushed them into each other every chance she got. Then it would lead to flirtatious stares, inside jokes about Laenor or one of their other family members, and talking for hours through the day into the night whether it be about literature, philosophy, or even strategy (which intrigued Laena to no end). Later the two would often sneak off together, and could be found jumping into the sea together with little clothes on, perhaps feeding the other fruit as the other read aloud. And they would ride dragons together all the time.

Oh, and during all of this (post brothel obvi), Edeline was with them. And Laena could care less. In fact, she was rather fond of the girl, and not just because Jaehaera was.

Unlike most maids, Edeline was aloud to speak her mind freely— Jaehaera had forbid anything less. (Which was another reason a lot of people didn’t like her *cough cough* Otto *cough*) Which meant when the girls discussed philosophy or topics of politics, she joined in immediately. Laena always found her perspective as a “commoner” to be refreshing and eye opening. And she loved how honest she was without feeling pressure. Edeline never even amused being interested in strategy or anything to do with combat. So whenever Jaehaera began to ramble about it, she’d simply sing out a tune Laena heard Jaehaera hum every now and then and braid the girl’s hair.

Then, if she had already finished using up all the hair she could— and Jaehaera was still going on about it— she say, “As attractive your passions make you My Highness, if you don’t stop soon I will be as dry as Kings Landing.”

Laena went into a fit of laugher after that.

Laena could never quite figure out why Edeline had become so vital in Jaehaera’s life, but in the end she didn’t need a reason. She grew to love them both, and was content in both their company. (She’s definitely the most civil of the bunch.)

And second, Laenor finding out that Jaehaera slept with Laena on his wedding night was honestly ironically funny. BUT he would be shook after hearing from his father that Daemon was to be wed to Laena because well— he knew for a fact Laena was in love with Jaehaera and he thought his bestie felt the same way.

He’d burst into Jaehaera’s chambers and yell something along the lines of:

“UM EXCUSE ME BUT YOUR UNCLE IS TRYING TO MARRY MY SISTER— YOU JUST GONNA LET THAT HAPPEN OR WHAT?!”

Then she’d tell him that she knew, and she’s the one that set them up.

Jaehaera would explain what their plan was, because Laenor would be a confused mess, and he’d finally be like: ohhh, that makes more sense.

Sir Harwin

This man>>>>

Jaehaera, Laenor, and Harwin are besties. The best trio I WILL HEAR NO ARGUMENTS

First of all, he’s definitely a feminist. So Harwin is all for Jaehaera getting her some just like the other lords of court. He would for sure be her wingman, and they would have a game to see who could get a girl to blush the fastest. (They both thought it a fair competition because he was an man, which went with the Hetero normative, but she was royalty so it kinda evened out the scales.) They would also have a ton of inside jokes about status and social norms.

“Oh fuck off!” Jaehaera would shove his arm off of her, laughing as she tried to walk away.

“Please be more specific your highness, I merely wish to abide by your commands properly.” Harwin would retort back in a prim and proper voice, bowing jokingly to her.

Or..

“Seven hells you’re a terror.” - Harwin after she jumped on his back because she didn’t want to walk down the stairs.

“Better than being a proper lady of court.” She’s remarked, not caring that people would gawk at the pair.

“Yes, I don’t think you have the temperament for it.”

Jaehaera hummed, “That and any lord I’d be sold to would feel inadequate after seeing how much bigger my co—,”

He’d also find everyone’s reactions or whispers about Jaehaera’s behavior hilarious. And he would probably tell her most of them, and they’d laugh together about it.

BUT— even though he knows she can take care of herself— I do think Harwin fight a bitch if they ever said anything that went too far. Once he heard a lord say call her the “common whore of the realm”.

Man lost his shit.

I will say that these two had a small moment when Jaehaera first started training with him, but from that moment on they were like, “You’re hot but no thanks.” (Plus Rhaenyra) And decided to just be friends.

He definitely knows about how Rhaenyra feels about Jaehaera, because let’s face it she’s not exactly subtle. However, he doesn’t feel intimidated by it because he knows that Jaehaera’s the very reason they can be together for the time they are. Not to mention, she cares about both of them, so she wouldn’t do anything to hurt them.

Oh and he pretty much knows everyone she’s slept with, because bro talk. (Laenor too)

Which brings me to Edeline.

Much to Rhaenyra’s disappointment, he’s friends with her. There’s no way he couldn’t be because if Jaehaera’s with him 9/10, Edeline is to. Plus, they definitely tease Jaehaera together; they have all the dirt.

They definitely had this conversation though:

“You do know if you hurt her I’ll have to kill you.” -Harwin as they watch Jaehaera train a young Aegon.

“You as well.” Edeline replied, sewing up a shirt Jaehaera had managed to rip right in half.

Raising an eyebrow he’d ask, “Oh? And how do you plan to do that?”

“There are more ways to kill a man then a sword,” she’d say, grinning to herself.

Basically, Harwin is the best and deserves better than his ending.

Alicent

Low key hypocritical.

Alicent would defend Jaehaera against anyone, even her own father. If her actions were deemed scandalous or promiscuous then she’d blame the other parties, or say that she could do whatever she pleased because she was royalty and it was her right.

“She’s a disgrace to the royal reputation.” Otto muttered, watching as Jaehaera stood in a corner of a banquet— letting various ladies lean, hold, and practically grope her frame, and she did the same as well.

“They are the ones to blame father,” Alicent practically hissed, unable to decide if she was more mad at her father or the ladies. “They’re very purpose is to be looking for a husband, not fraternizing with the Princess. It is their own doing.”

And at the same time, she’d shame Rhaenyra for having an affair with Harwin and producing “bastards”.

Her reasoning was simply, Jaehaera wasn’t bound by marriage or duty to produce heirs, and the King— her husband— permitted her the same right as a Prince. Not to mention, she brought good fortune to the kingdom everyday through her excursions, battles, treaties, voyages, good political standing with nobles and great social status amongst the commoners.

However, if she were truthful, Alicent would say that Jaehaera was gifting their kingdom by merely breathing in it.

And sometimes, when bold enough to allow her mind to wander, she’d dream of what life could have been if it were Jaehaera she had married.

It would have been no question if Jaehaera were a man, and Otto could have very easily made the argument to place Jaehaera as heir. In another reality, Viserys may have done so. Yet, even if Jaehaera were a man, she’d never rule.

Alicent knew that.

No matter how hard she tried to weasel the thought into Jaehaera’s mind, praising her intellect, her strength, and her popularity— the princess would not hear any of it. She refused the notion as if it were a plague, a fate worse than death. The first time Alicent did it, the young dragon merely brushed it off. Then, several times more she let her off easy because she was a dear friend, but finally, she lost her patience.

Nudging her chin upward, Jaehaera held the sides of her jaw— it didn’t hurt, but she gripped hard enough that Alicent could feel the pressure in her bones— and crouched low so they were at eye level. Her body, almost twice the size of Alicent’s in stature and muscle, looked over the young queen enough to send a tremor down her spine as her back pressed into a tree. They were in the garden this time, taking a stroll, when Alicent hinted at legitimacy again. She could see— feel, that was a mistake.

Alicent’s eyes were wide as she stared up at her friends, feeling weak in the knees at this new aura. She had only ever been treated with kindness; she only knew the sarcastic, flirtatious, yet sweet part of Jaehaera. Never had she been subjected to this. Not even that time when Jaehaera saw her in Viserys room for the first time.

“Wha-what are you—?”

Tsking at her like a child, Jaehaera placed her finger against Alicent’s lips. “Don’t play like this with me Ali. I am not in the mood, and this oblivious façade doesn’t suit you.”

Gulping back her nerves she nodded, her gaze flickering between the tall girls eyes, hand, and lips that were close enough for her to feel her breathing.

“Thank you,” Jaehaera said in a more genuine tone, removing her hand from Alicent’s mouth— almost making the young queen the whimper— but remained still to cage her between the tree.

“You know,” she let her eyes travel, followed by her hands, “I really hate when you do this Ali.”

“I don’t like it when you let yourself be so easily manipulated,” Jaehaera twirled one of Alicent’s free curls with her fingers, before finally looking back at her with a ferocious expression. “So stop talking like him.”

To the present, Alicent felt herself quiver at the memory, and she didn’t know why. Or rather, she just didn’t want to admit that she did.

Later on as she develops more as a queen, and has her children, she becomes more possessive. Her and Rhaenyra are similar in this aspect. Oh, and don’t think she doesn’t notice how Jaehaera would dote on Rhaenyra when she was pregnant, and how she coddled her children.

To be fair, she acknowledged that anytime Jaehaera was home she made sure to give Aegon and Aemond as much attention as she did Jace and Luke.

However, her emotions were more selfish in a way. She wanted the same treatment Rhaenyra got during pregnancy. Maybe more.

She wanted Jaehaera to be with her throughout her days, and most night, as she went through the stages. She wanted to be doted on, coddled, given plentiful affection, and even babied at times.

Jaehaera would literally break her back to do everything for Rhaenyra when she’s pregnant. Alicent envied that to no end. And one day her temper got the best of her, and she asked.

“Why do you only stay for Rhaenyra’s pregnancies?”

Jaehaera coughed, setting the cup of tea back on the table before she could make a bigger mess. “That’s one way to clear the air Ali.”

Blushing profusely, she looked down. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I asked that I just—,”

Tilting her head to look down at the woman, Jaehaera let out an abrupt laugh. “You’re mad at me.”

Snapping her head up Alicent’s immediately rebuttals. “No! I am not! I just—,”

Chucking at her friends sputtering, the princess leans back in her chair. “You’re actually, genuinely mad at me. Wow, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“I am not mad at you!” Alicent argues with growing aggravation.

“Then why are you yelling?”

“I’m—!” Alicent sighed, “I’m sorry, but I’m not mad at you. I just find it odd.”

Humming, the dragon nodded. “You wonder why I hadn’t been there for yours? Is that right?”

Alicent licked over her lips, placing her own cup down to not show her shaking hands. “Yes.”

“Well, for one, you’ve never asked.” Jaehaera stated rubbing her palms against her spread thighs. “From what I heard you wanted no one in the room with you for Aegon. So I assumed Aemond was be the same since you didn’t send for me. And I sadly wasn’t here for Heleana—,”

“Rhaenyra didn’t have to ask.” Alicent said bluntly, taking Jaehaera by surprise. “And I would have never asked you to leave.”

Sighing, Jaehaera gave her an understanding nod. “You’re right.”

Alicent furrowed her eyebrows. “Then why?”

“If— if you had asked I would have been there. But,” Jaehaera huffed, “You are my father’s wife.”

Alicent felt her heart stop.

“I do not hold you to it as a fault. I am glad that you have brought each other some semblance of happiness, but,” Jaehaera winced, “he is still my father. And you are still my childhood friend. I cannot tell you why, but it is different. It feels different. But I still have all the love for your children, my royal siblings.”

Alicent would also never forget that.

She feel contempt, though she would not know who to aim it at, so she found the easiest target. Someone that was in the way of what she truly wanted, and that could easily be disposed of.

Marching into Otto’s room, Alicent was practically fuming, breath shaking, face bright pink, and eyes watering. And before her father could get a word of question out, she simply said…

“I want her gone.”

Looking at his daughter in confusion, Otto raised a brow. “Who?”

“Edeline.”

***

A/n: Younger ones will be in part 2, which is pretty important because it has Edelines key parts in Jaehaera’s story, and what the whole “event” was that made Otto get banished and Jaehaera to leave for a while, and Alicent being Alicent.

Make guesses in the comments, I’ll tell you if you’re close.

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