#my dear retired lady

[merriclo]

When Morning Breaks by Tom Paxton is so MaLink to me btw. i forget the exact circumstances of Link’s death, but i believe it was due to some intense battle/war that finally put an end to him. he softly tells her that he’ll be gone before sunrise tomorrow, and then he never ends up returning. and the lyric “i breathe your name through the fire” is something he would absolutely do in my eyes. idk man maybe im just losing my mind but. to me it’s them

please listen to Tom Paxton gang he’s such a good artist

[candysunoo]

ೋ◦ ❀❀ enhypen as a

bridgerton story ❀❀ ◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦dearest gentle-reader ◦ೋ•

❀my name is lady whistledown. you do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall. but be forewarned dear reader, I certainly know you.❀

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❀ now, before we shall begin dear gentle-reader there is something you must know. this author has no rights to the Bridgerton stories/ series. thus all of the following are loosely based on them. this author also does not know any of the boys personally; and thus this is not an accurate portrayal or representation of them and their lively hood. thank you in advance dearest gentle-reader. please enjoy. sincerely, your lady whistledown (aka kei ;D) ❀

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Lee Heeseung - Queen Charlotte ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ King Lee Heeseung, 3rd of his name, the ruler of Great Britain and Ireland, your new husband.

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❀❀❀ When your tiny island kingdom falls apart under the scrutiny of the large countries around it your brother has no choice but to marry you off. Marry you off to none other than the King of Great Britain and Ireland. Lee Heesesung ascended the throne young after his father tragically died. Years after finally coming of age, his mother decides it’s time for him to marry and produce the next heir, despite his covertly concealed mental illness. When you arrive it seems as nothing can go your way. From mistakingly talking down to the king after being caught trying to run away, to what was supposed to be your honeymoon night your ladies maid explained. But must you know dearest reader, that love does indeed conquer all and secrets don’t stay secrets for long.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: may 22nd, 2024❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: strangers - to kinda friends- to lovers, traditional gender roles, 1700’s societal expectations, arranged/ forced marriage, bitchy mother-in-law, mentions of parental death, mentions of mental health and feeling like an outsider, medical malpractice, mention of feeling unloved and trapped in a marriage, SMUT, sex (lots of it), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, put that wiener in a blanket), breeding kink , praise, mention of pregnancy and birth, angst and fluff, idiots in love, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: 11.8k ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Park Jongseong - The Duke & I ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ Park Jongseong aka Jay, first of his name, The Duke of Hastings.

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Dearest gentle reader, haven’t you heard? The honorable l/n family is finally debuting the oldest daughter. A vision of beauty, just as her mother was, any young man would be happy to have her on his arm.

That being said being the eldest daughter of eight children can be tough. Especially as you are now of age to enter society. It was exhausting really, the trips to the modieste for the hours of standing for the dropping of hems and the countless arguments between your eldest brother, the head of the family, and your mother. After your father died your brother had become especially protective of you and your other siblings; much to the dismay of your mother. The protectiveness only gets worse when you catch the eye of not only the queen but also a certain Duke who is determined to stay out of the clawing hands of desperate mamas and their daughters.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: June 08th, 2024 ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: fake dating- to true love, traditional gender roles, 1700’s/1800’s societal expectations, mention of childhood trauma, mention of parental death, small mention of attempted assault (nothing graphic y/n gets forcibly kissed, it does not go into detail), retired manwhore jay, anxiety, traditional courting, mention of fighting/ light violence, forced to married - destined to stay, mention of having children, lies of omission, SMUT, corruption kink, virgin y/n, jay talking you through it, wet dreams, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Sim Jaeyun - Romancing Mr. Bridgerton ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀❀❀ Sim Jaeyun aka Jake, first of his name, 3rd eldest son of his family, and your longtime friend and crush.

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Dearest gentle-reader, ever since the successful seasons of not only his older brothers but sisters as well all eyes have fallen on the 3rd eldest son of the Sim family. Will this be the season he finds a presentable young lady to hold him down to the mainland; or will he end up on yet another voyage across the sea?

Ever since you can remember you have been friends Sim Hyunjin, the middle daughter of the Sim family. Also since you can remember you have had a massive crush on her younger brother Jaeyun, or as he liked to be called Jake. Everyone who knew you knew that you were nothing less than a soft, quiet, wallflower. Always sticking close to the edge of the room, alone and watching the courting couples dance the night away. Jake was always so kind in that regard; pulling you away from the wall and to the dance floor but never letting it get further. Never officially courting you or even giving you the curtesy of signing your dance card. However when you overhear a conversation not meant for you everything changes. Will Jake be too late to fix what he had broken?

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: ft. Loossemble/ Loona’s Kim Hyunjin as his sister (they share the same birthday lol), friends- to strangers/ acquaintances- to friends again- to lovers, traditional gender roles, 1700’s-1800’s societal expectations, mentions of hard family situations, mentions of feeling alone and like an outsider, reader gets called names (by Jake he doesn’t really mean it?), flirting, jealousy, heartbreak, fights between friends, POSSIBLE SMUT I HAVEN’T DECIDED YET, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Park Sunghoon - The Viscount who Loved Me ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ Park Sunghoon, first of his name, eldest child of his family, The Viscount. The bane of your existence.

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Dearest gentle-reader, after the ever successful season of his younger sister last year Park Sunghoon has declared himself available to be wed. Making him the most desirable young gentleman of this season. May we wish luck to the other young men, as the nagging mamas and their equally difficult daughters shall be all over the Viscount.

Being the eldest son of a prestigious family was no walk in the park. Especially for Park Sunghoon who had taken over as the head of his family after his father’s tragic death. After the past year his mama had been insistent on him marring. Especially after she found out about a certain opera singer and the way he funded her lifestyle. Entering the marriage market his wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a woman with at least half a head on her shoulders and child- bearing hips. No need for anything else. He just needed a wife. You and your sister had just arrived in town, sponsored by an old family friend to join this marriage season. Staying with Lady Lee Chae-rin was nothing less than a dream. She was kind and understanding towards you, your sister and your mother. Strong willed and outspoken you were determined to find someone for your sister to wed, if not for her, for your entire family. However what happens when alls not fair in love and war?

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: enemies- to lovers, mention of parental death, traditional gender roles, 1700’s-1800’s societal expectations, arguments, extortion(not by Sunghoon or reader), mentions of family issues, shitty grandparents, rushed engagement, technical cheating (Sunghoon is with readers sister), angst to fluff, Sunghoon is a world class rake, breaking off an engagement SMUT, hate sex, light degradation, some praise, public sex (in a private garden no one else is there)❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Kim Sunoo - An offer from a Gentleman ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ Kim Sunoo, first of his name, the 2nd son of his prestigious family, an artist, and perhaps your Prince Charming?

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Dearest gentle-reader, love has a funny way of finding its way around the ‘ton. Of course, when there are so many eligible young men and women how could it not? This author happens to think that one of the eligible young men of the ‘ton may find love where he least expects it. Or rather with whom unexpected love comes with.

When your mother died it felt as if the warmth of the universe had gone with her. The flowers no longer grew and the wind no longer sang a tune as it blew. As you approached the age of your debute into society you had some hope. However it was all crushed into small bits when your father married Seo Minhae. The literal devil in disguise. After that her and her ill-mannered daughter moved into and made you a servant in your own home. Pushed out of your room and into the basement, forced to do housework and cook you were treated as nothing. Finally reaching your breaking point you snuck out of the house. Finding yourself at a masquerade ball and in the arms of a tall, slim, dark haired man. Feeling like royalty and like you were on top of the world you had the night of your life. That is until the clock struck midnight.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: strangers- to lovers, Cinderella type content, traditional gender roles, 1700’s - 1800’s societal expectations, mention of parental death, awful evil stepmother and step sisters, running away, slight escapism, mention of depression and slight religious imagery, masquerade ball, reader is implied to be shorter than Sunoo, abrupt abandonment, angst and fluff, SMUT, soft sex, unprotected sex( wrap it before you tap it, put that wiener in a blanket), praise, dirty talk, overall sweet and fluffy, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Yang Jungwon - It’s in His Kiss ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀❀❀ Yang Jungwon, first of his name, an entitled aristocrat just like the rest; but could there possibly be more lurking underneath his greed for inheritance?

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Dearest gentle-reader, the time has come for the youngest daughter of the l/n family to make her debut into society. Though between you and I founder has it that the youngest of the l/n family is too much to handle when it comes to romance. Loud and outspoken one can only hope the youngest will find someone suitable for her.

Yang Jungwon was the eldest child in his family. He was born for greatness. He planned his whole life as he seen fit on the promise of his inheritance. You however were the youngest daughter, loud, outspoken, intelligent and brash. Yang Jungwon could hardly stand you. That is until he needs your help of course. After his father has taken over the family’s business and title he didn’t seem to want to give it up. Yang Jungwon didn’t know what to do with himself. After all what grounds does his father have to deny him his birthright? Finding a journal from his long dead grandfather, Jungwon finds himself in a bind; the journal is written in an entirely different language and could possibly hold the solution for his predicament. However, the only person he knows who can remotely translate it, even if it’s not perfect, is you. The one person his calm and quiet self can not stand to be around for long periods of time.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: acquaintances- to friends- to lovers, shitty parents, mention of parental death, Jungwon is technically an orphan, threats of disinheriting, mean comments (towards reader not by jungwon), reader is a bit much for Jungwon at times, overall fluffy, heavy petting, make out session, LIGHT SMUT( nothing too in depth just an after scene) MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Nishimura Riki - On the way to the Wedding ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀❀❀ Nishimura Riki aka Niki, first of his name, the youngest son in his family, trapped between the glamorous dream of love at first sight and the harshness of reality.

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Dearest gentle-reader, do you know that true love conquers all? Well this season we are in for a treat, the youngest of the Nishimura family finally has plans on marrying. This old author can’t help but wonder what shenanigans this season will hold.

Nishimura Riki was the youngest of eight children. He had grown up watching all of his sibling find true and meaningful relationships. That was all he wanted for himself. Riki believed in love at first sight. Especially when he saw her Danielle Marsh, your best friend. When his gaze first saw her it was as if he had been struck with Cupid’s arrow. It went so deep in his heart he couldn’t breathe, the entire world was stopped as he watched her from afar. However that didn’t last for long as he witnessed her approach another man, fluttering her eyelashes and giggling at him.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: love triangle, love at first sight, unrequited love- to true love, idiots in love, “let me help you help her”, breaking up engagements, mentions of family issues, love confessions in a garden, heavy petting make out session, ‼️NO SMUT‼️, angst with happy ending, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

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❀ i hope you all look forward to reading the stories! i‘ll update the content warnings as i finish the stories! please ignore any mistakes i may have made as i will start to go through and correct them! also ignore the bad formatting i did it on mobile 😭 - kei ❀

❀ a taglist has been created you can find that post here! that is the current standing of who will be tagged in the first post. feel free to ask to be added by commenting or sending an ask/ message! ❀

‼️‼️ ©️ @candysunoo 2024 DO NOT copy, repost or translate without permission ‼️‼️

[dcxdpdabbles]

Master Posts Links

All the dabbles I have posted on my DC x DP account. Under a read more due to how long it is. Broken into three categories:

Multi-parts - Dabbles that have more than one part written.

One-shots- Dabbles with only one part written.

Requests- Dabbles written for the requests of readers. (Note: If a request is for a continuation of the other two categories, they will be filed in Milti-parts)

Master Post 1 Link

Master Post 2 Link

Completed AUs Master Post Link

NSFW (+18 ) Link

Master

Please read the indexes to determine which master post each au is filed in.

As of 02/10/2024: The newest stuff is inside of Master Post 2. If there are many parts from Master Post 1, they will remain on that one.

MASTER POST 1 INDEX:

Multi-parts:

The Royal Consort,

Child Support

Alfred's Boy

Phantom's Number 1 fan

Danny and The Fan Blog

Congratulations! It's Triplets!:

Ghost King Summon dare

The Dauntless Matchmaker

Demon and Angel Brat

Single Dad

Jason's Doll

Alley Boyfriends

Misplace Baby

One-shots:

The Assistant

The Ghost Trio's Food Trip

Legal Compensation

Love Among Fans

Lex Luther's Youngest

The Infinite Realms Hobby Store:

Obsession Runs in the Family

Farm Hand

Vague Threats

Game of Deadly Love

Retired-Rouge

The Real Blood Son

The Kid of Candles

Magic Older Brother

Keep The God Kid Busy!

Dog walker

Clockwork's Cookbook

Respawn and Relive

The Summoning Conditions of the Ghost King

Finders Keeper

What's the rule again?

The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord

Big Fish in Gotham Pond:

Immunity system:

Wrong Number:

Timeline Prevention Squad

Requests

The Masters are Aliens

Ghost Zone Read

Red Hood's Snow

Jason Sees Dead People

Ghost Dad

Wayne Manor Ghost

The Siren of Iceberg Lounge

The Orginal

The Ghost King's Fibs

Red ParentHood

Woo thy Butler, My Lord

Double Vision

Dealeyed Soulmates

Rescue Mission

Danny's Online Persona

Practice makes perfect

MASTER POST 2 INDEX:

Multi-Parts

Cass the Halfa

Danny's Grill

Freelance Inventor

The Audit

Why Ten?

Mr. Flavor

Cluster of Cores

Demon Head Slightly to the left

Danny Fenton's Ex

New Management

Billy's Parents

Phone a friend

Passion for Fashion

Super Robin

Cassandra's Curse in Gotham

The Summoned Demon

One-Shots

Red Yummy

It's all Fun and Games Kids!

Professional Protector of Love

The Backroads

In 30 Minutes or less

One hell of a good bellhop

Corporate Rivals

Rude Kryptonian

Ecto-Specialist

Side Hustle

Copyright

Love at first (club) meeting

Catnip for heroes

Old Friends

Danny the Nanny

Lights and Camera

Hot Wings

Marriage trap the Office Supplier!

The ones who got away

Vanishing Bookstore

Petal to the metal

Lover Boy

PenPal

Fishbowl Bones

Unwanted House Guest

The Roommate

Missing Half

Danny's Did you Know?

Yeti's orders.

Requests

Batman with a gun's lover

IRS's boogie man

Dear Elder Brother's mistakes

The Undead Florist

Pit's Merman

Dullahan is my roomate

Nightowl Appartement

The one with Sunset Hair

The Cinnamon Roll's son

The lost In-Laws

The Lady and The Dad

Big Brother does not approve

Gotham's star and Shadow

Pride in Gotham

Revenant Prompt

The King and his Not-Knight

Contestant Number 3

The Lost son of the Bat

AroAce Danny

COMPLETED AUS MASTER POST INDEX

The Bakery is a Front!....right?

Cave Boy

The Adoptive Son

[andreawritesit]

Hello! I hope I am not bothering you :) I was wondering if I could ask for a Cregan Stark x Reader where they have a busy day and cuddle under the furs for the night, sweet kisses and pillow talks and all this kinda stuff. Just a small drabble would be ok.

i adore fluffy so please make it as sweet as you can, thank you :(

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Reader

Words: 952

The arrival of winter was always a busy time in the North. As the Lord and Lady of Winterfell, Cregan and you had spent the entire day overseeing the preparations for the upcoming winter. The castle buzzed with activity as you both coordinated food storage for the harsh winter to come. It was your duty to make sure that the people of the North would be well-protected against the biting cold. You had assisted Cregan throughout the day, your presence a constant source of support and encouragement. Whether it was reviewing the storeroom inventory or ensuring that the workers were well-fed and rested, you had worked tirelessly alongside him.

As the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the snow-covered landscape, the fatigue of the day began to weigh heavily on you. You glanced at Cregan, who was engaged in a final discussion with his advisors. His strong and commanding presence never ceased to inspire you, but even he looked tired at the moment. Finally, he sent them on their way and walked over to where you were standing, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You must be tired, my love. Come, let's retire for the night." He held your hand and led you out of the hall.

You made your way to your chambers, the warmth of the castle a stark contrast to the icy chill outside. Cregan held your hand the entire way. You felt a sense of relief as you entered the cozy room, the flickering fire casting a comforting glow. Cregan closed the door behind him, and the day's burdens seemed to melt away. You let out a long sigh which elicited a soft laugh from your husband.

"What's so funny, my lord?" you asked him.

He shook his head and hugged you from behind. "Nothing. You truly are very tired. Forgive me, in between all the preparations for the winter, I perhaps didn't pay much attention to you today."

You turned around still in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his torso. He rested his chin atop your head and hugged you closer to himself. "Not at all, dear husband. You were doing your duty and so was I. I'm indeed tired but I'm also quite proud of how much we accomplished in just a day."

He kissed the top of your head and released you from his hold. A chill ran over you in the absence of his warmth. Without another word, Cregan began to shed his heavy cloak and boots. You followed suit. You both moved in a comfortable silence, the kind that comes from deep understanding and mutual affection. Once you were both in your nightclothes, Cregan pulled back the thick furs on the bed, inviting you to join him.

You put your clothes on the chair and walked over to him. He had already climbed under the warm furs. You quickly slipped beneath the furs, the soft, warm fabric enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort. Cregan immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. Snuggling against his chest, you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

"You know what", his deep voice rang, sending shivers down your spine, "today was truly exhausting. It feels like there is a mountain on top of my head."

You tilted your head to look up at him, your eyes filled with care and love. "Does it ache a lot? I can call the maesters. There is no reason for you to suffer, my love."

Cregan shook his head slowly and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's nothing I can't handle. Besides, you've tired yourself enough today. Now I want you to stay here and rest."

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. Cregan leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble of warmth and love. When you finally pulled away, Cregan rested his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling in the cool air.

You lay there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a gentle light over the room. Cregan's hand stroked your hair, his touch soothing and tender. You were just starting to fall asleep when Cregan suddenly asked, "Do you remember the first time we met?" a smile playing on his lips.

A sound somewhat between a sigh and a laugh left your lips. "How could I forget? You were so serious and intimidating. I thought I'd never get through to you." Cregan smiled, looking at you with love and admiration in his eyes.  "We've come a long way since then," he said softly. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips soft and tender against yours.

"I love you, Cregan," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," he replied, kissing you once more. "More than words can say."

As the night wore on, the soft crackling of the fire and Cregan's steady breathing played on like a lullaby, summoning you into the land of dreams. Eventually, your eyes grew heavy, and you nestled closer to Cregan, your head resting on his chest. Cregan held you close, his arms a protective cocoon around you. "Sleep, my love," he murmured, pressing a final kiss to your forehead. "I'll be here when you wake." You sighed contentedly, your eyes fluttering shut. "Goodnight, Cregan", you breathed out before falling asleep.

"Goodnight," Cregan replied softly, his own eyes closing as he held you close.

[jyoongim]

Your hate fuck fic was absolutely SCRUMPTIOUS. Anything else with that mean ole’ radio demon degrading the reader would be greatly appreciated 🧎🏻‍���️🧎🏻‍♀️ maybe like the reader was angels friend- it’s a given she’s well versed in sex n such but has given up that life and he’s determined to see just what made her so popular 👹

themes: 18+! Fem!reader, creampies, fingering, begging, retired pornstar? Nudity, implied drunk sex (reader goes get sober), kissing, dick-riding, blowjob, long tongue, implied pussyeating,

Alastor x retired!pornstar reader

When you came to the hotel you were rather embarrassed to show up looking a hot mess, but regardless Charlie took you in.

You smiled when you saw a familiar face, Angel. Th two of you worked under Valentino until you ‘retired’.

“Toots here was the best in the business! She always knew how to bring in the big bucks” Angel had said during your introduction to the others, causing Husker to groan at the thought of another Angel in their midst and the others to be surprised. You really didn’t match the description.

You were the epitome of sex appeal before calling it quits. But the industry wasn’t like it use to be and Val wanted you to be more…willing to venture out of your comfort zone.

You weren’t really a pornstar per say, but you knew how to get the job done.

But you wanted to turn a new leaf. You ditched the tight and revealing outfits for more loose and modest clothing. It felt good to be your actual self.

But that didn’t mean that your sexual appetite just disappeared.

Alastor was the first to notice when you ditched the slutty attire to more conservative wears. You carried yourself like a well-mannered lady, but he always saw how you looked at him.

So he took it upon himself to see just how far you go when you couldnt contain your desires any longer.

You had been drinking with Angel, discussing how dumb Val’s scripts were and wondering how people enjoyed horribly written porn plots.

Angel had passed out on the couch and you stumbled your way to your room.

You giggled as you crashed into stuff and sighed in relief when you found what you thought was your bedroom.

You began undressing and in your drunken state, you caught sight of a full mirror. You took in your form and admired how you looked.

maybe you should have dibbled into porn. Your body was killer.

You pitted around to try and find a nightie for bed, but frowned as you came up empty.

”What are you doing in my room my Dear?” A voice asked, causing you to yelp and turn around to fins Alastor standing in the door.

You blinked slowly “y-your room? no this is…” you finally took in your surroundings and realized that you were indeed NOT in your room.

Instead, it was Alastor’s room.

You rubbed your neck, embarrassed “O-oh I’m sorry Alastor” you staggered to the door and went to move past him, but he shut the door.

”now now my dear a lady shouldn’t be walking the halls in your state, why dont you rest here for a while” his smile wide.

It had to be the alcohol in your system, because you smiled back and leaned your body into his, arms circling his neck “Oh Alastor youre so kind”

You had completely forgot you were practically naked.

Now that you were up close, you took in his features.

Angel was right. He was hot.

You always had thought Alastor was attractive. He oozed dominance and carried himself with such a prideful way.

You oftened imagined him having his way with you at night, resulting in many panties needing to be changed in the morning.

”something the matter my dear?” Alastor asked as he saw you stared at him, cheeks turning a rosy pink.

”H-has anyone every told you that you’re sexy?”

Alastor blinked and let out a laugh

”Oh my dear! Please this is Hell, I hear a lot of things. That pesky spider is always making depraved jokes of a sexual nature”

He grimaced with a shudder

You frowned ”then what about me?” You asked softly.

 You suddenly became aware that you were in the nude…in alastor’s room…and he was just conversing like he hadn’t noticed.

He tilted his head, grinning at the pout on your lip

“What about you my dear?”

”You have the best piece of ass that ever graced the pentagram and you’re doing nothing. I’ve had guys kill to get this close to me” 

That liquid courage must have been working double in your system, because you nuzzled your nose under his jaw, whining “Don’t you want to touch me?”

Alastor hummed as you trailed your lips up his neck

what a tempting little thing you were

”why don’t you show me what makes you the best doll?”

You had sobered up after the second orgasm.

Alastor had made you cum by his fingers and mouth. The tongue on that one

You were currently bobbing your head p and down on his cock. Eyes locked on his glowing red eyes as you deep throated him. Alastor had a lazy smile on his face as you sucked to your heart content.

You released him with a pop, keeping your tongue wrapped around his length. Happpy with your work you let him go and turned your attention to his balls.

Back in your hay day, you would have never let a man get this far with you, but you wanted this. You wanted to treat Alastor to what made you so appealing.

You climbed your way back onto his lap, slamming your lips on his as you Lined him up to your entrance.

Fuck you were soaking.

A throaty whine escaped you as you lowered yourself on his cock

Alastor’s hands found purchase on your plush ass, helping you set a steady pace.

You were riding him like you’ll never get this chance again.

His cock felt so good. Hitting spots that had you mewling in his mouth.

You were sure his cock was coated white with how soppy your cunt was.

Breaking from his mouth, you moaned as he thrusted up into you, meeting your downward thrust. You were about to cum again. That sweet tingle shot through your core as you bounced on him.

”A-Alastor! Ah! P-please…I-I’m I’m gonna cum” you moaned quickening your pace.

You leaned back, one hand bracing his thigh, the other found your clit and you rubbed tight, fast circles as you rode him.

Alastor watched as you fell apart on his cock, he sped up his thrusts and growled when your cunt started to squeeze him.

”Go on dear. Cum. I want to feel that cunt cum on my cock.”

you whimpered, throwing your head back, a silent scream on your lips as your orgasm ripped through you.

Alastor braced your hips and rutted into you until he tensed; spilling his cum deep into your cunt.

You collapsed into his chest, grinning on him to ride out your orgasm.

panting, you sighed as he peppered your shoulder and neck with kisses.

”Finest cunt to grace Hell indeed my dear”

[helaelaemond]

Honey on my Tongue - Aemond x reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x betrothed reader

Summary: You’ve been betrothed to Aemond, and he has shown little interest in you during your engagement. It hurts so much, for your heart yearns for him. You can't hold it back any longer

Slightly possessive Aemond. Suggestive situations.

Rating: T

Word count: 1.9k

"Would my lady care to dance?"

You look at the hand held out to you, and glance up at Prince Aegon. He grins down at you, and you take his offer graciously. "Thank you, my prince."

Next to him, the princess watches you curiously, and opposite her, your betrothed, Prince Aemond, keeps his one eye fixed on his brother.

"I think we have an audience," you say quietly, smiling.

"Just as I like," Aegon jokes. His hands are sure against you as you begin the simple dance, stepping in time to the music. At every opportunity, he presses himself closer than is proper. It should bother you - but at least you're getting attention from one prince.

"I do wonder about you sometimes," you tell him when steps bring you closer.

Walking in the correct steps around you, Aegon flashes you another grin. "I am on your mind often, then?"

You can't help but roll your eyes. "When you say things like that, a certain curiosity is sparked."

"And is that a curiosity you wish to be satisfied?"

The wine they serve in the Red Keep is stronger than you're used to, and with it brings a boldness that is also foreign. "Is curiosity the only thing you can satisfy?"

He laughs loudly. "Gods, I am sure you think about that often! Should your curiosity ever grow too great to bear, you come and find me."

"And what of your wife?"

Taking your hand, he glances over your shoulder at sweet Helaena, and shrugs. "What of her?"

"How often do you dishonour her?"

"Where there is no love, there is no dishonour. Perhaps you would do well to remember that."

You raise your eyebrow at his implication. There is mirth in his pretty eyes. "Do you think I am destined for an arrangement where love will not flourish?"

Again, Aegon holds you closer than is proper, and his lips are closer to your ear. "My brother is a warrior and a scholar, not a lover. How warm can steel be in a marriage bed?"

There is a tightness in your chest at his words. Perhaps he means only to be charming, to be suggestive, or perhaps he is deliberately cruel. But it is not the elder brother who gives you butterflies. You glance over at your betrothed, and the ice of his glare makes you shiver.

"My lady?" Aegon asks. You've stopped dancing.

"Ah. My apologies, my prince. I think the wine is stronger than I am used to."

"All the better," he answers quietly, and he winks at you. "Should you desire oblivion this night, come to my chambers."

Your face is close to his, and you smile up at him. "I think not, my prince. Perhaps your hand is more curious than I."

Why did you say that? What in the world made you say that? His jaw hangs open in shock at your boldness, and a blush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. You return to the table where Aemond and Helaena are sat, and where their mother and grandfather talk together quietly.

"Please excuse me, my queen, my Lord Hand. I think I might retire for the night."

Queen Alicent looks at you, and then at Aegon behind you, her eyes wide and searching. "Are you well, my dear?"

"Just a slightly sore head, Your Grace. Nothing a good sleep will not remedy."

Her smile is tight. "Do not hesitate to send for the maester should you need him. Sleep well, my dear."

You curtsey, and turn to do the same in Helaena and Aemond's direction. "My princess, my prince."

Helaena smiles at you, and Aemond's face is as cold as before. You sweep past Aegon on your way to the door, and ignore how he tries to reach for your hand as you pass him.

Out in the corridor, you lean against the cool stone wall, and try to hold back your tears. The soldiers either side of the hall doors keep their gazes forward. You clamp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stay silent. How much distaste looked at you with pierces you.

Since you met him, you have felt a draw to him. Sometimes, you have even managed to make him smile enough to laugh. Each time, the queen had looked so pleased. He doesn't seem to laugh often, but you bring that out in him. What a prize. And then, other times, he barely pays you any mind. He doesn't strike up conversations with you unless you speak first. He doesn't invite you to dance.

Those moments with him are precious to you. To him, they don't seem to matter in the slightest.

Meanwhile, Aegon throws himself at you like a whore. Perhaps, one day, you'll take him up on the offer - if for no other reason than to feel something. To close your eyes under his touch and imagine Aemond. Anything is better than this loneliness, surely.

You have to get out of here. As weak as your legs feel, you overcome the desire to crumple, and quickly, you begin walking down the corridor towards your rooms. Until you are married, your rooms are far from the royal quarters - quite a trek through the maze of the Red Keep. The doors to the hall where you have just had dinner with the royal family swing open and then closed, and footsteps join yours.

"Wait!" a command is barked. "My lady."

You ignore the order. Your betrothed is not yet your lord husband - he does not command you. Well, as a prince, he does. But the tears have begun to stream, hot and thick, from your eyes, and surely that will disgust him.

"My lady!"

Even Prince Aemond's harsh voice brings butterflies to your stomach. His gait is far longer than yours. You won't disgrace yourself by running like a child from him, and so he quickly catches up with you. As you walk quickly, he matches his steps to yours.

"You have no respect, do you, my lady?"

Furiously, you wipe your cheeks. "I have respect."

"Then stop when you are commanded."

"The command itself is not respectful. I wish to retire."

"And I wish to speak with you."

The wine. Blame the wine. "That is quite unusual."

He grabs your arm and pulls you into a shadowy alcove. "Do you deliberately wish to displease me?"

You try to wrench your arm from his hold but he's too strong. "There is nothing deliberate about it, but it seems it is the only feeling I can inspire in you."

He stares at you through the shadows, his purple eye searching, cold, and his jaw set. "And here I had thought you were intelligent."

"Do you often think of me?" Your voice is laced with accusation.

"More than you know."

"I know nothing."

"On that much, we agree."

You try to pull out of his hold again, but his slender hand is impossibly strong, a vice around your bicep. "What do you want from me, my prince?"

"Dignity."

"What, pray tell, have I done that you deem undignified?"

His lip curls slightly. He pulls you closer to him. "You danced with him."

"He is your brother - it would be shameful to decline his invitation."

"And what of his other invitations? Do you accept those?"

Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "I know not of what you speak," you lie.

"He is a lecherous beast, not worthy of my sister, not worthy of-"

"Of whom?" you challenge.

His lips pull back over his teeth for a moment. The dim light makes shadows sharp across his angular face. Gods, he is beautiful. Even in rage, he is beautiful. And you do not fear him. You only fear his indifference. "You are my betrothed. I expect you to act as such."

"And how ought you act as my betrothed?"

"As I see fit," Aemond says, each word slow and deliberate.

"What of my expectations?"

He glares down at you. Gods, he's tall. It makes you weak. "What expectations do you have?"

"That my betrothed at least pretends to like my company."

That makes his spine straighten. The hand on your arm loosens slightly, and to your surprise, it trails up your shoulder and lightly touches your throat. It's impossible to breathe under such sudden tenderness. You can feel the callouses on his palm. "Pretend?" he echoes.

You nod stiffly. "I do not need to pretend. You know I enjoy your company. Too much, I think."

"Too much?"

"Don't. Do not do that."

Aemond's eye watches as his finger touches the base of your throat in the soft spot between your collarbones. It's where he gently feels your pulse. It's so quick. "Do what?"

"Do not pretend that you are unaware of my feelings."

"There is no pretence. I know not."

You push his hand away, although the touch has made your skin rise in goosebumps from your thighs to your scalp. "Then you are as blind with one eye than with none."

He snorts humourlessly. "Elucidate for me."

The wine, the wine, the wine. You shove his chest and he stumbles back, caught unawares. "I like you a great deal. And it agonises me that you do not feel the same. It is a humiliation!"

Swallowing thickly, Aemond's expression softens. "Aegon makes you laugh. I do not."

"Aegon is a fool, and makes me laugh as such. But I do not... I do not care... like I do... for..."

"You care?"

You could hit him, you really could. "If you could not tell by now, then we shall never make one another happy."

When you turn away to walk off, he catches you again, and suddenly he pulls you tight against his tall frame, and his arms are around your back, and his face is close to yours. "You make me laugh, my lady."

"I make many people laugh. You could make me a royal fool."

"Do not say such things," he hisses, anger flashing again. "You're my betrothed. Mine."

"I do not want to belong to you like a book or sword."

"Yes, you do." He leans down and whispers against your ear. "You are mine, and mine alone. I am sorry that you did not know that until now."

"Do you say this out of pride or love?" you ask, more bravery in your voice than you truly feel.

"My love is proud. And so too is my betrothed."

"Pride does not drive me, my prince. Only love."

"Do you love me?" he murmurs. It is good he is too close to look at. If he faced you, you would not have the strength to answer.

"I do."

"Not Aegon?"

"No."

He kisses under your ear. You whimper. His voice is so silky. "You will not dance with him again."

"Will I dance with you?"

"Every night until we are wed."

As he winds his arms tighter around you, you press a hand into his hair. "And once we are married?"

"We shall have no time for dancing. I shall have no mind for anything but possessing you."

"You want to possess me?"

He kisses your skin. "Entirely. For already, I am yours."

[gtgbabie0]

Hello! I enjoyed the Cregan fanfic. May i ask if it's okay with you if i have another request?😅 (if it's not too much to ask huhu) I kept thinking how Cregan would be like if he had a daughter

-Cregan Stark x Reader

{A small sweet moment with your daughter and Husband}

I hope this is okay, its a super small blurb. Thank you for the request!! Enjoy my lovelies💕

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If anyone dared to ask if Lord Stark had a favourite amongst his four children he would tell them “No.” in a firm, cold manner. A look so deadly it would send a violent shiver down any man’s spine.

However, between his four children- three boys and one girl- it was his daughter who would get away with anything and everything.

They say that it was little Mariah who melted away all of Cregan’s ice walls after he arrived back in the North. Holding her in his arms when she was just a babe brought back his humanity, which he thought was long gone since the war, warming his heart back to life with love.

The same little girl, now of age four, who is adamant about sitting with Cregan as he attends meetings with other Northern Lords, making her voice loudly known. She was headstrong and Cregan had no one to blame but himself.

He had not long returned from one of these meetings, bidding goodbyes to the Lords who looked less than pleased about the comments his daughter was making. But they did well to hide their displeased expression behind polite smiles, everyone knew how to stay out of the Stark family business.

“How did it go?” You wonder, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as he walks through the shared bedchambers with Mariah perched on his hip.

You could tell from the tired looks in both of their dark eyes that the meeting was long… perhaps even boring.

“I got to sit on the big chair.” Mariah giggles, giving you a toothy smile as Cregan places her on your lap before taking off his furs.

You hum in surprise at her words as she rambles on about how she is now “Lady Stark” and how her father could ‘rest’ instead of going to such meetings. Although you could tell- as she spoke through a yawn- that perhaps it was her that should rest.

The notion of such an idea makes Cregan chuckle, his eyes creasing with amusement. “I’ve got plenty of time yet, Lady Stark.” He says, looking between the pair of you with a gentle smile. One full of adoration.

Your daughter continues to defend her case, insisting that she is ‘smart’ and that it would be 'practice for the future'. She would certainly be trouble in the future, you thought to yourself, looking down at her with a soft smile.

"I can go alone, Father," she murmurs sleepily, making the pair of you laugh. There is no doubt in your mind that she would boss all those Lords around, after all, she has practically grown up in those meetings with her father.

“She’s trying to send you into early retirement my dear.” You smile, looking up at your husband who busies himself with taking off his worn leathers, leaving him in a loose-fitted tunic.

He bends down slightly, his big hand rubbing your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. “She’s succeeding.” He whispers in response before walking over to the window, closing the thick tapestry to keep the warmth in and the cold out.

Mariah rests against you, letting out another yawn as your fingers brush through her hair, she was getting sleepy. However, as soon as Cregan sits down beside you she’s immediately sitting up, holding her arms out for her father expectantly.

“Come here flower.” He whispers, sitting her down on his lap as his fingers begin to braid her hair gently, getting the loose curls out of her eyes.

Your heart swells with love at the sight, the way she desperately tries to keep awake whilst blabbering on about her day to you, her words mushing together as the exhaustion begins to take over.

“Lord Ryswell wasn’t happy about her input on the docks.” Cregan smirks, the fireplace bathes him in a supple light making him glow in contentment that makes you feel a giddiness in your chest.

“I can imagine, he’s always been far too proud.” You whisper, not wanting to wake her up.

He looks down at Mariah, fast asleep curled against his chest, her cheek squashed against the fabric of his tunic. “He’ll just have to deal with it.” He smirks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring you close to him, his lips pressing against your hairline as he enjoys the peace while he can.

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[elronds-meleth-nin]

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

I heard a song and one of the lines got stuck in my head, so here's a fic. (If you're curious, it was "Figure You Out" by VOILÀ.) No idea why, but Thranduil just felt perfect for this.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Thranduil x Reader

[A/N: This is mostly just fluff, but there's some innuendo, so... 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, Elf x Human romance, mutual pining, idiots in love, Thranduil being dramatic, fake betrothal speedrun, Thranduil being soft for one (1) person only, protective Thranduil, Human!Reader has been adopted by elf who had no idea what he was getting into and Thranduil thinks he's an idiot, mild innuendo.

~*~

My mind wandered during my guard shift. Given that nothing ever penetrated this deep into the realm without the king's consent, the risk of allowing my focus to roam among my busy thoughts was minimal. The night air was brisk as I sat on one corner of the king's balcony with my bow laid across my lap.

Normally, the night air was soothing, but at that moment, all I could think about was how different everything would be soon. There would be no more extravagant views of the stars framed by elaborately gilded windows, no more training with my bow, no more front row seats to royal audiences, and - the worst of all - no more late night conversations when King Thranduil grew weary of his work.

I'd taken those things for granted. Oh, I hadn't squandered my time once I'd become one of his guards, by any means, but now that I might be forced to give up that position sooner than I'd anticipated, a list of regrets seemed to be cycling endlessly in my mind's eye. One that caused me the most pain was that I would very soon no longer be the recipient of his majesty's secret smirks when something we'd discussed privately occurred in his court.

The sound of a quill scratching away on parchment within the king's study ceased abruptly, but not even the anticipation of a quiet, intimate talk with him could lift my spirits. Not after the news I'd had that morning.

The swish of a cloak being removed was followed by unhurried footsteps toward the balcony, and then he was there beside me. The King of the Woodland Realm stood less than a few feet from me in all his finery, save the little circlet that usually rested upon his brow. He tended not to wear it when he retired to his chambers for the evening, choosing instead to lay it atop a book of poetry which resided permanently on his desk.

"On a lovely, cloudless night such as this, what cause would a newly-engaged lady have to look so forlorn?" The smooth, regal voice of my liege met my ears, and under any other circumstances, I might have scrambled to my feet to bow before him, as was his due. All I could muster, however, was a quiet, sincere apology over my shoulder as I remained seated on the balcony. I could feel his keen, pale blue eyes on me as I set my bow aside and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, dear. Is he that repulsive?"

"Not physically, but...all he seems to see is himself. I am perfectly aware that the betrothal wasn't either of our choices, but he could at least pretend that he's interested when our parents are nowhere to be seen." I was aware that I sounded ungrateful, but just because I was a mortal woman in a realm of Elves didn't mean that I had to like it when I was constantly looked down upon by others.

One of the few people who never gave me the impression that he thought less of me took a seat beside me in robes much too elegant for anything less than a perfectly padded chair to touch.

"Have you spoken with your guardian - apologies, your father - about your fears?" Instead of sounding judgmental, Thranduil's voice held only softness - a rarity, to be sure, but such a tone was more common when he conversed with me than with anyone else. I nodded my head as I recalled the cold aloofness in my adoptive father's voice as he'd dismissed both me and my protests.

"He seemed more concerned with maintaining the status associated with his name than with some silly little mortal's concerns." I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, I really did, but the sharp edge that crept in made me cringe a bit. "After all, who am I to complain when he took me in? My life could have been over before it had even truly begun. He could just as easily have left me to die in the ruins of our burning village and adopted an Elfling instead. I...owe him for all that he has done."

One of Thranduil's hands rested lightly on my shoulder, coaxing me to face him. My eyes met his, and his free hand laid over my wrist. The warm weight of his palm covering my pulse made my heart flutter in my chest.

"Is that what he told you?" When I stammered about it being nothing more than the truth, he shook his head while stormclouds gathered in his expression. "What foul words of comfort from one who claims to care for you."

To that, I had no response. Naturally, several statements sprung to the tip of my tongue - defenses for my father's actions - but I swallowed them all down when my king's gaze warned me that he would tolerate no such excuses.

"Remind me, mellon-nin, how long have you served in my guard?"

"Twelve years and a few months, sire."

"And in all of our many conversations, have I ever given you any reason to doubt that I value you as highly as any other in my kingdom? After that first fortnight, when you were terrified of making a mistake, have you ever felt out of place because of your mortality?"

The memory of that fateful night drew a smile to my lips.

"No, mellon-nin. That rather thorough tongue-lashing you meted out made your stance quite clear to all in the palace," I murmured allowing myself the small liberty of turning my hand beneath his and threading our fingers together.

The guards he'd berated for their rudeness and bigotry had practically fled the throne room when he was finished with them. After that night, he'd ordered that whenever I was on duty, I would be assigned to his personal detail.

"Then, what cause have you to believe that I would tolerate anyone treating you so poorly anywhere else in my domain?"

"This is different–"

"How? Enlighten me," the king ordered giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Father has the right to demand that I repay him for the time he has spent on me," I hedged, but Thranduil shook his head.

"Just because he raised you, that does not mean that he was unaware of what he was choosing. He may not have known the full extent of the demands made of a parent, but that was not the fault of the innocent babe he rescued." He sounded so calm, so casual about his assertions that I could do no more than blink as he spoke. "I do not expect Legolas to sacrifice his happiness to satisfy some imagined debt incurred at his birth, nor should your guardian make such ludicrous demands of you."

We sat quietly for a moment, side-by-side and hand-in-hand beneath the moonlight before words began flowing from my mouth almost without my consent.

"He's an ass, you know, the man to whom I have been promised. Nothing brings him greater pleasure than a mirror, and nothing strains him more than remembering a preference held by someone other than himself," I murmured feeling as though this confession of my unkind thoughts about the Ellon would give me some measure of comfort beyond another's commiseration. "Six different times he has insisted that he knows my favorite flower, and six times have I received something completely different. He claims that I keep changing my answer, but, truly, I have given the same response every time."

"He chooses not to listen," Thranduil muttered almost to himself.

"Quite correct, aran-nin. He is dismissive...practically ignores me when we are in the same room..."

"Had he been listening, he undoubtedly would have heard your scathingly pointed sighs, not unlike those which you direct toward any who insult your king in the throne room," he teased, and a huff of laughter bubbled out of me. "I shall have you know that I enjoy those little sighs. They convey a great deal about the receiver's lack of intelligence and manners, whilst simultaneously broadcasting that you would like nothing more than to drag them from the gates by the scruff of their neck. Quite effective, do you not agree?"

"Oh, yes, mellon. As I recall, you've allowed me to do just that on several occasions," I said glancing over at him. The answering sparkle in his eyes coupled with the wicked little smirk adorning his lips made my heart thud faster in my chest.

"And I reveled in every second of their humiliation at your beautiful hands," Thranduil practically purred in satisfaction at the memories, but I sobered rather quickly as I recalled the reason I was so down in the first place. He must've seen my smile slip. "Forgive me, I was certain that you enjoyed dragging witless rats from my sight...?"

"I do...rather, I did." The correction was small, but he pounced upon it immediately. The hand that had been on my shoulder grasped my chin and forced me to look back up at him. He didn't need to say a word. The question floated between us unasked, yet requiring an answer. "My betrothed made it clear that he believed a guard was no proper wife. He has demanded that I resign my position here."

More seriously than he had all night, Thranduil gazed into my eyes.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to give up the station you fought so hard to attain for a man who cannot remember even the simplest of things about you?" I shook my head as hot, desperate tears filled my eyes. "Then tell me, what do you want? What desires fill your mind when you allow yourself to dream under cover of darkness?"

I most certainly could not give him the whole truth. I couldn't tell him that over the course of our acquaintance and friendship I had fallen in love with him. Nothing could ever come of my pathetic heartache. I was only a guard. A peasant. Peasants might fall in love with royalty, but they did not end up with them. That was not the way of the world.

"Love," I breathed instead. "I want to be loved for myself, not my father's position. I wish to be cared for and to care for another. I wish to remain a guard, a warrior for the Woodland Realm, and to be accepted as I am, not swept aside. Obviously, I am not without fault, but while I attempt to grow wiser and gain experience, I do not wish to be impeded or judged by someone who could never remember even the most basic facts about me. I...What I want is impossible."

A small, gentle smile crossed the king's lips, and an intense, burning desire to kiss him fought a war within me against my common sense. Thranduil could forgive much, but a lapse in judgment as severe as throwing myself at him? Never.

"Your presence here is proof that nothing is impossible. You are much easier to love than you have allowed yourself to believe." His deep, rumbling voice sounded at once comforting and sensual, which proved quite effective at helping me blink back my tears before they could even begin to fall. "When are you next due to meet with this unworthy cad?"

"Tomorrow. My father has invited both he and his parents to our home for the evening meal as it is my day without a shift." I was surprised at how steady my voice sounded after how vulnerable I'd just been. Strangely, though, I felt no shame in having allowed my friend to see my pain.

King Thranduil nodded his head pensively, brushing his thumb over my chin as he did so - why had he not yet released his grip? Not that I was going to complain, of course. Being this close to him, touching him, speaking with him in confidence...that was as close as I was ever going to get to him, and even that might soon be pulled from my grasp, so I savored every moment that I was afforded.

Neither of us had much more to say. Instead, the Elvenking slipped an arm around my waist and tugged me close enough to his side for me to lay my head on his shoulder. We sat in companionable silence until the time came for the guard change. Bidding me sweet dreams and a safe trip home, Thranduil dropped a soft kiss onto my hand and retreated back inside his rooms.

As usual, the guard who was to replace me gave me a raised eyebrow at my familiarity with someone so far above my station, and, as usual, I ignored him.

Sneaking to the stables on my way out, I plucked an apple from my coat pocket and headed to the gilded gates of the stall holding the king's mount. Slicing the fruit quickly in half with my dagger to delay my return home by a few extra seconds, I cooed gently to the large elk, stroking the soft fur on his muzzle as I offered him the treat.

"Who's a good boy? Hm? You are! Yes, you are," I praised as he gingerly bit into the first half of the bright red fruit, then the second. He was a gentle giant, in truth. Much of the kingdom supposed that he would be as prickly as his rider, but nothing could be further from reality. Firstly, the king was only short with those who deserved his ire. Secondly, the admittedly imposing elk upon which he rode hadn't a mean bone in his very large body. "Aww, you're never grumpy with me, are you, mellon-nin?"

He chuffed and snuffled, nuzzling gratefully into my caressing fingers as a 'thank you' for his treat. Even he would be a far superior companion for life than the idiot with whom I'd be forced to spend yet another pointless evening the next day...and perhaps the rest of my life.

"Don't worry, mellon, even if he makes me resign, I'll still find a way to sneak in and bring you extra apples." The pleased little snort he gave me drew a giggle from my lips, but I knew that soon the guard patrolling this section of the grounds would be here. I bid goodnight to my tall, fur-covered friend and set off on the path toward home with our secret intact.

Had I so much as bothered to glance back, I would've seen a familiar head of bright blond hair watching as I tugged the hood of my cloak over my head.

--

When I awoke the next day, it was still early morning. The lateness of my shift usually tired me out well enough that I slept for at least another hour or two, but after a few bleary blinks, I realized that I'd been awakened by voices.

Odd. My adoptive father did not usually entertain guests at this hour. Either something had happened, or today was destined to turn out rather strangely. As he hadn't bothered to come wake me, I gathered that there was no urgency in whatever had transpired. What was not in question, however, was the way my stomach growled as I tried to roll over and go back to sleep.

With a sigh of defeat, I climbed out of bed and dressed, even going so far as to tie my hair back in a quick braid since it looked as though it might rain. Thus, clothed and presentable, I cleaned my teeth and ventured from my bedroom in search of food.

The voices seemed to be coming from my destination, so it seemed as though I would get both sustenance and an answer to my curiosity all at the same time. A fortuitous turn for such a gray morning.

"...ere she is now." I was able to make out my father's voice as I intentionally stepped on the creaky board in the hallway. I wasn't as quiet as an Elf when I walked, but I still didn't like to appear as though I was eavesdropping or sneaking where I shouldn't be. When I stepped into the kitchen, I froze.

There in all his regal, perfectly-groomed glory was King Thranduil, sitting at our tiny wooden table.

What in the name of the Valar was the king doing in our kitchen?

"Aran-nin," I greeted him, bowing slightly less steadily than I might have if I'd been awake for more than a few minutes. A low, velvety chuckle floated around the space.

"Come now, meleth, you know there is no need for such formality," Thranduil crooned giving me a charming, mischievous smile as I straightened again, but that statement alone nearly shattered my poor tired mind.

He'd said 'meleth,' but...that meant 'love.' He'd never called me that before. And I still didn't know why he was in our kitchen.

Glancing between my king and my father, I tried silently to piece together what the hell was going on here. Thranduil must have seen my lack of progress in my eyes, because he continued as if this was all completely normal.

"Come, break your fast. Your guardian has been kind enough to make tea and lay out some provisions for us," he said standing and pulling out the chair directly beside him.

Almost without thinking, I did as he asked, and my heart thudded rapidly in my chest when he seated me as if we were at some lavish feast instead of around our small, wooden table. He acknowledged my hastily-murmured gratitude, then resumed his own seat with his usual flourish. The three of us ate quietly for a few moments, staunchly ignoring the fact that the king was in our tiny kitchen eating with us as casually as if he had always done so.

It was...pleasant. Strange, obviously, but much more enjoyable than my usual solitary morning meal.

"So, meleth-nin, would you like to tell him the good news, or should I?" Thranduil asked, and I looked up at him. Slightly more cognizant than before, I recognized the glint in his eyes that usually accompanied a desire for me to play along with whatever he said next. I could do that.

"I'm quite certain that it would be much more eloquent coming from you," I demurred, and I very pointedly avoided looking across the table at my father's reaction to whatever bit of theater my king had orchestrated. Less than a heartbeat later, I found my free hand firmly in Thranduil's grasp as he looked at my father.

"The betrothal you arranged for your ward is hereby declared invalid by order of the king," he said, and the stunned expression on my father's face was worth every moment of confusion I'd experienced that morning. He took a moment to gather himself before clearing his throat and looking between us in askance.

"If it is not too presumptuous, sire, may I ask why you have done this? Her betrothal to–"

"That engagement was no more than a farce. We meant to announce it earlier, but with how busy I've been attending to my royal duties, I fear I have been remiss." The king cut him off, and the indignation in my father's eyes gave me a sick sort of pleasure. "You see, your ward is not available for the suitor you preferred, because she has already accepted my own marriage proposal."

Oh. So, that was what he had in mind. A faux betrothal. Somehow, that was both intensely flattering and a knife to my chest.

The announcement worked to perfection, though. My father looked as though he'd been punched soundly in the face.

"You...?" He blinked and made a second attempt at speech. "Why would a king want her?"

Thranduil's head tilted in a manner I recognized as indicative of the imminent rise of his temper.

"Why does a king desire anything? Tell me, why should a king not desire a worthy queen for his realm?" He asked, and my father caught up rather rapidly with the realization that he'd said the wrong thing. Thranduil looked back over at me as he lifted my hand to his lips. "Why should an Ellon not marry the one whom he loves?"

Ow. Those were the exact words I'd longed to hear from him for so many years, but to hear them now knowing that they were all an act...

"And why should I not wish to marry the Elf with whom I have grown so close over my many years of guard duty?" How far he intended to carry this fiction, I didn't know, but I could play along for now. I could hide the pain.

"I...Congratulations," my father stammered hesitantly, but he was no longer relevant. Not now.

"Thank you," the king said without taking his eyes off of me. "Meleth, I believe it is time for you to live in the palace. It will be your home once we are married, and if you are prepared, I can take you back with me. My mount is outside."

"Of course, but I shall need a few moments to pack–"

"Nonsense. You needn't do such menial work. You are to be my queen. I have already arranged for your belongings to be brought to you this evening. For now, you need only bring yourself and a riding cloak," he insisted with a warm smile.

"Might it not be simpler, my king, if I were to save you the trouble of taking her with you? I could escort her to the palace myself this evening so that you needn't be burdened by sharing your mount," my father said, and the blush that sent my cheeks burning at the thought of the pair of us riding together atop his elk was automatic. No acting required.

I prayed that Thranduil was unaware of how drastically he affected me, even within my own imagination.

"Bringing my queen to the palace is my responsibility and privilege. And, if you shall forgive me for saying so aloud outside of the solitude of our marital chambers, meleth-nin, I view the opportunity to feel you in my arms with great anticipation," the king said turning my hand over gently and placing a slow, sensual kiss right over my racing pulse. My breath caught in my throat at the hunger in his eyes. His lips lingered a few beats longer than I expected, only pulling away when my father cleared his throat pointedly. "My apologies. In the presence of such beauty, I find that I am transported into the realm of fantasy."

Thranduil's words did not match his expression. He was an Ellon who found vast satisfaction in playing those around him like an orchestra. He wasn't sorry at all.

"As much as I adore seeing you like this, my darling king, I do hope you will be more discreet while holding court," I teased, but his smirk only grew.

"When my queen is so breathtaking? Never." If it wasn't for the disgustingly sexy wink he tossed me, I'd have thought he was laying his act on a bit thick. As it was, though, he seemed to be staying in character quite effortlessly. For my part, I was one shaky breath away from giggling like a brainless idiot, or bursting out in tears because of the simple fact that this was all an act.

Ducking my head in what I hoped was a passable semblance of bashfulness, I tried to steady my breathing.

"I...trust that you still plan to give up your position in the guard?" My eyes flicked up and met my father's. There was something in his expression - disbelief, confusion, suspicion - that I couldn't quite place.

His obvious lack of trust after all these years angered me.

With the sweetest smile that I could muster, I tilted my head curiously.

"Not at all. A queen must be willing to fight for - and alongside - her people if she expects them to fight for her in return. Loyalty must be earned; it is not a gift to which one is entitled." Thranduil gave my fingers a gentle, supportive squeeze. "Surely, after your many years as a warrior, you of all people understand how crucial it is to inspire loyalty in those whom you command?"

He couldn't protest. When Thranduil said nothing, giving him neither a change of subject nor an opportunity to dodge the question, my father stammered about his question being a foolish one and about the change in suitors being so sudden.

Almost as soon as we stepped outside, the king's elk snuffled happily. He walked over to us, but to my surprise, instead of vying for Thranduil's attention, he made a beeline for me. Without thought, I patted his muzzle and ran my fingers down his neck. Snuffling lower, as if he knew I usually kept his apples in my pockets, he looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mellon, I don't hav–" I was silenced by a large, gentle hand landing on my shoulder.

In my king's grasp was a bright, ripe, red apple. The same kind I usually smuggled out of the larder as a treat for my furry friend. He'd already sliced it in half - when had he even found the time?

"Thank you, but how did you...?"

"Nothing happens in my realm but I know of it," he whispered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my scalp.

Choosing to temporarily ignore the implications of his statement, I accepted the apple and fed it to his elk. After a moment, Thranduil moved nearly soundlessly back toward my father.

"Ah, before I forget, this is for your ward's former suitor," he said pulling an envelope with the royal seal from his pocket. "Please convey to him that if the contents raise more questions than answers, he is most welcome to see the palace healers about his obviously failing memory."

With his cloak swishing behind him, Thranduil swept back over to me and helped me onto his mount's back. Once he was seated behind me with an arm wrapped firmly around my middle, it all sank in.

This might be an act for my father, but this was happening. I was really riding toward the palace with my king's chest pressing against my back. The guards who manned the gate would see us. Any who encountered us would bear witness to the king's act. How far did he mean to take this?

Surely, he wouldn't actually marry me just to get me away from one unsuitable Ellon? And when he did eventually end this ruse, what then? Would I be forced to go home with my tail tucked between my legs?

When we were around the halfway point in our journey - far enough from both my home and the palace that I was certain we wouldn't be observed - I asked if we could stop for a moment. Despite his confusion, Thranduil gave the command, and his elk trotted to a graceful stop. Without waiting for assistance, I slid off the saddle and landed rather hard on my feet.

Ignoring the new pain in my ankles and the ache that the loss of Thranduil's steadying grip left in my chest, I took a few steps and tried to slow my breathing. The sound of my traveling companion landing infinitely more gently than I had met my ears along with a concerned call of my name, but I just shook my head.

"Are you hurt, meleth?" He asked, and I swallowed heavily.

"No, but...my king–"

"You are perfectly allowed to call me by my name. After all, we are betrothed. It would not do for our subjects to see us behaving as if no love exists between us," he said as he patted his elk's neck, and a pang of hurt wound through my heart. Thranduil was saying all the right words, but it was an act. There were no longer any witnesses. There was no longer anyone to watch as my heart broke.

"Why are you doing this?" At the pain in my voice, confusion and concern washed over his features.

"Whatever do you mean?" The Elvenking asked stepping away from his elk's side. His cloak billowed around him, and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees at the sheer majesty of the figure he presented. All it did, though, was reinforce what I already knew: Thranduil was not for me.

"Please, do not misunderstand, I am grateful that you have saved me from such an unfortunate match. However, you needn't spare my feelings by pretending to love me. There is no need to waste your precious time playacting, mellon-nin."

"'Pretending'?" The word escaped him as a harsh, dangerous whisper. Oh dear. I'd seen the king's rage before, but never had his icy fury been turned upon me. Despite the outrage in his tone, his next words were at the same hushed volume as before. "'Playacting'? What do you take me for?"

I could see why Prince Legolas had insisted that raised voices were preferable to the fear that his father's cool, piercing anger inspired. I wasn't afraid, but I was acutely aware of the severity of his emotions. I wasn't intentionally trying to anger him, but I needed him to know how close he'd come to breaking me beyond repair. Before I could answer, he advanced another step and continued.

"And, pray tell, what am I, in your estimation? Cruel? Unforgiving? Demanding? Judgmental?" His eyes flashed with something akin to pain. "Perhaps your censure is not based upon personality, but upon appearance."

The glamour he kept constantly in place over his scar melted away.

"Is this the source of your misgivings? Am I too ugly for you to accept, even as a king?"

"You know that's not true," I snapped, with an edge of warning in my voice, recalling the first time I'd seen him without the glamour.

A few months after my appointment to the king's guard, I was given a jar of pain-dulling ointment by one of the healers to pass on to the king. I'd delivered it, of course, but when I'd been hesitant to leave him, going so far as to ask if he was injured, he'd locked the door and showed me what the great serpents of the north had done to him. Thranduil admitted later that he'd intended to frighten me that night, but all I'd done was ask if he needed help applying the medicine. Once he realized I thought no less of him for his injury, he'd let me.

Yet he had the gall to stand before me and accuse me of being shallow? Had he learned nothing about me over the years?

"Then answer the question," Thranduil bit out quietly. "What exactly do you take me for?"

"A king," I breathed looking up into his eyes. Confusion mingled with his anger. "Peasants may fall in love with royalty, but they are not offered the luxury of marrying them. Kings do not give lowly guards a second thought, even if they afford them the title of 'friend,' so I will ask you again, sire: Why are you doing this? Why are you acting as though hope abounds for my doomed heart where none has ever existed?"

His brow smoothed, his lips parted a fraction, and his glamour slipped silently back into place as he processed what I'd said. Oh, Valar, what I'd said! I'd confessed to loving the king!

Comprehension melted his anger away into nothingness. Instead, he moved within a single step of me, lifting one of his large, graceful hands to caress my cheek.

"You truly do not know?" I couldn't even bring myself to answer as I leaned into Thranduil's touch. This might be the last chance to do so after what I'd just admitted. He'd dismissed guards in the past for much less severe transgressions. "When we spoke last night, you told me that you desired to be loved - not by the whole of the Woodland Realm as I believe you deserve, but by one person. The Ellon your father chose for you certainly could not do that when remembering something as small as your favorite flower caused him such strain."

Low and gentle, his voice trickled over my ears as smoothly as honey. He...He didn't sound angry, anymore. Why wasn't he enraged that someone like me had dared to cross the more-than-generous boundary of friendship that he'd allowed me?

"My king–"

"Thandruil," he corrected, but there was no real bite to his words despite having to repeat himself again. He never repeated himself, yet this morning alone he'd done so twice. "You adore the blue wildflowers that grow along our western borders, but if you smell them for too long, they make you sneeze. During the summer, you set them on the sill in your room and keep the window open so that you might enjoy them without discomfort."

I blinked in surprise. I could vaguely remember a conversation years ago where I'd mentioned the flowers, but it was such a trivial thing that I was quite certain it would've been forgotten by morning. After all, what I did with flowers had no bearing on the fate of the kingdom.

"You prefer your tea sweet but not overly so. When you believe it might rain, you take the precaution of braiding your hair so that the humidity will not render it impossible to untangle when you return home."

The Elvenking began slowly, allowing each small fact that he'd observed about me to sink in along with the realization that he'd favored me with his attention frequently enough to accrue them.

"Your confidence with daggers is low, but with a bow, you are as bold and graceful as any skilled Elleth warrior. When I express my anger at some wretched fool in my court, you often struggle to suppress your laughter at how close they come to wetting themselves in the throne room - do not deny it. Your body gives you away each and every time."

Had he truly seen so much of me during my service to him?

"When your temper is tested, there is a small line that appears just here," he touched a spot between my brows, "that brings me great consternation. On the one hand, I wish to give you my sword so that you may more easily remove the head of whomever has dared incur your wrath, but on the other, I wish to soothe your frustrations with my words, my lips, my body, whatever you will allow–"

"Thranduil–" His name fell from me as no more than a whisper. The leaves on the trees surrounding the path rustled in the breeze, but the Elvenking could not be stopped.

"Your free time is often spent reading. Once a week before you return home, you sneak out to the stables and feed my elk an extra apple, because you find him sweet-tempered. When you laugh, your eyes sparkle brighter than any star ever could, and you steal the breath from my chest each time you look at me."

My vision blurred, and only when my king's thumbs brushed tears from my cheeks did I realize that I was crying. I'd loved him for so long that this felt as surreal as a dream.

"You said that you wish to be loved, meleth-nin. To answer your question, I am doing this because I can give you exactly what you desire. I could love you with my eyes closed, because I have done so with them open since the day you were assigned to my guard."

Thranduil leaned closer, freezing but a hair's breadth from my lips.

"If you do not feel the same, we can remain friends, but if there is the slightest chance that you could find happiness by my side, then marry me. Be my queen. I am yours." His whispered promise was filled with so much tenderness and hope that my restraint snapped, and I closed the distance between our mouths.

My fingers gripped his robes in an attempt to ground myself, but this heady feeling of being wanted - being loved - robbed me of all coherent thought. There was only the feeling of gentle hands drawing me close by my waist and the nape of my neck. Only soft lips kissing me with the skill of thousands of years' worth of experience. Only a king claiming his queen's heart.

There was only love.

~*~

mellon-nin = my friend

aran-nin = my king

meleth-nin = my love

[lirotation]

This set is done =D

Putting it together with a fanfic.

Dancing Across Faerûn

Spawn Astarion X Female Tav, fluff. Post game, on the journey to search for a cure.

The aged tome lay open before Amaara. She leaned in, squinting to make out the faded text as the nights blurred together. A promising lead at last began to take shape...

Suddenly, familiar arms encircled her from behind as Astarion's chin came to rest on the top of her head. "Still poring over those dusty books, my dear?" he purred, "It's well past time you retired for the evening."

Amaara waved him off distractedly. "In a moment. I'm so close to..."

Astarion turned her chair around, “Oh, no, eyes on me.”

With a sly wink, he began to unbutton his shirt with exaggerated slowness. Amaara's eyes widened as she realized his intent. Piece by piece, his clothing puddled to the floor until he stood gloriously nude before her.

Then, as only he could, Astarion launched into an impromptu lap dance - swaying his hips and running his hands over his body in a practiced routine that would surely make even the most experienced courtesan blush.

By the time he finished by straddling Amaara's lap and crushing his lips to hers in a searing kiss, any thought of research had completely evacuated her mind. She could only gaze at him with a mixture of desire and exasperated fondness as he broke the kiss with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Bed. Now," Astarion commanded with a husky growl.

"Only if you teach me how to dance like that."

“It’s too advanced for you just yet, my pupil, let's continue your lesson for the horizontal dance first.”

Amaara couldn't help but laugh, even as she allowed him to tug her to her feet.

She knew she had a tendency of being single-minded, rushing headlong into everything as if it were a critical mission. An intense focus that had served her well in battle, but often caused her to neglect the simpler pleasures in life.

She was grateful to have Astarion by her side. He was full of life.  His very presence was a reminder to occasionally pause and truly savor the journey they were on together - not just endure it.

There were the inevitable hardships of life on the road - long days of hard travel, scratching out camps in the wilderness, and more than a few close brushes with dangerous beasts and unsavory folk. But those challenges seemed insignificant compared to the wealth of fond memories.

Amaara's mind drifted back to the spectacle of their first stop in Waterdeep, where Astarion had effortlessly charmed them into one of the city's most exclusive noble's balls. She could still see the look of devilish glee on his face as he bowed deeply and offered his hand. "My lady, would you honor me with this dance?"

Who was she to refuse such gallantry? With an elegant curtsy, she had taken his hand and allowed him to whisk her into a waltz amid the candlelight and champagne. 

For once, she just enjoyed the moment and the swirl of the dance.

Sometimes their travels found them staying in decidedly lower-end dwellings. Amaara vividly recalled one particular evening at a rather disreputable brothel.

She had been casting cleanse spells on everything in the room when the raucous sounds of music and laughter filtered up from the lobby below.

Before she knew it, Astarion was at her side, eyes gleaming with mischief. He grasped her by the wrist, flashing that irresistible smirk. "Shall we dance, my dear?"

Amaara tried to pull back with an awkward laugh. "Oh, I couldn't possibly. I don't know the steps..."

But he simply tsked, refusing to release his gentle grip as he tugged her toward the door. "Then you'll follow my lead."

She didn't have a chance to protest further before he swept her into the rowdy fray below. courtesans and patrons spun energetically to the driving beat. Before Amaara could catch her breath, Astarion pulled her in close, one arm snaking possessively around her waist.

Then, they were moving - his hips rolling sinuously against hers as he guided her into the smoldering rhythms of a tango. She could only gaze up at him, wide-eyed and flustered, as he led her through the heated, intimate steps.

His eyes burned into hers with a look that made her heart flutter. One calloused hand traced tingling lines up the curve of her spine as he dipped her into a deep backbend, bodies melding together. By the time he drew her backup, chest heaving, Amaara's face was flushed bright crimson.

The memory of that dance, of being so utterly undone in his arms, still brought a fierce blush to her cheeks.

Amaara's mind drifted to another fond memory - this one taking place in a small town they had passed through. The townsfolk were in the midst of some local celebration, gathered in the square as lively folk music spilled out into the streets.

She had always harbored a secret longing to join in the kind of unbridled communal dancing she witnessed, but had never had anyone to dance with. This time, however, she turned eagerly to Astarion with an huge grin.

"Oh, will you dance with me, please?" she asked, giving his arm a playful tug. "I've wanted to take part in one of these since I was a little girl."

Astarion raised one elegant eyebrow, “How unsophisticated.” Before her smile faded, he continued, “but how could I refuse such an earnest plea?”

He seized her hand and led them out into the swirling dancers and began leading her through a series of joyfully choreographed turns and circles.

Soon they were whirling amid the crowd, all cares forgotten in that moment. Amaara couldn't resist throwing back her head with a pearl of unfettered laughter, brown locks bouncing freely.

When she turned her bright smile back toward Astarion, she was surprised to find him chuckling as well. His deep crimson eyes sparkled with mirth, face awash in an unguarded expression of pure delight she didn't often see him wear.

Amaara's wandering mind was abruptly pulled back to the present as Astarion rolled them over, pinning her to the bed with his weight. His lips found hers in a deep, searching kiss that made her toes curl.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, she gazed up at him. This passionate lover, this mentor who had taught her to seize life's pleasures with unbridled zeal - had once been subjected to centuries of unspeakable torture and abuse. The fact that he did not merely survive that unimaginable hardship, but emerged with his radiant lust for living defiantly intact, left Amaara in awe. 

She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent. Despite the dark horrors he had endured, despite the vampiric curse inflicted upon him, Astarion still embraced each new day as a precious gift. His rich laughter rang out freely and without restraint - the most triumphant of melodies after the dissonance of his past. To him, the scenery unfolding with every winding mile was worthwhile in itself. Each experience, no matter how small, was relished and savored to its fullest.

He is living proof that no burden, no matter how oppressive, could extinguish the indomitable essence of the soul.

Yes, they are on a mission, but there will be no frantic marching or single-minded zeroing toward the end goal. Instead, they will dance every step of the journey, spinning wildly through every rise and fall of the Realms.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [16]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 15 | Fic Masterlist | Part 17

What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?

As you entered the grand hall, discomfort painted across your features, Jongho and Eunsook trailed closely behind, exchanging concerned glances. The announcement made by the palace staff had only made the prince's intentions abundantly clear to them.

The head maid, not wanting you to feel alone, stepped up beside you to check on you, "Are you feeling alright, mistress?" She inquired. Jongho nodded in agreement from your other side, suggesting, "Yes, perhaps we can leave early if you are not feeling well."

"Miss Jang! Are you not feeling well, my lady?" Yeosang's deep voice interrupted, your eyes widening at his appearance. As you began to perform the formal bow, he quickly halted you by gently grasping your arms, "No need to be so formal with me," He said softly, "If you're feeling unwell, you can come and rest in my chambers."

Jongho and Eunsook froze at the fourth prince's suggestion, dread washing over them. They could only hope you would decline the invitation, but they knew it wasn't their place to intervene. The idea was simply inappropriate; as a married woman, retiring to another man's private chambers was scandalous. If news of this spread, it would undoubtedly tarnish your reputation and bring dishonour to the general's name.

To their relief, you didn't hesitate to shake your head, "Oh dear, no, Your Highness. Thank you for the offer, but I was simply taken aback by the grandeur of everything. It's my first time attending such a prestigious event, and perhaps I just need a moment to take it all in."

That wasn't entirely untrue, as you finally seized the opportunity to marvel at your surroundings. While your husband's estate was luxurious, it paled in comparison to the opulence of the royal palace. Palace servants bustled about, ensuring everything was flawless. However, you couldn't help but notice the absence of banquet guests, which surprised and unsettled you.

Yeosang fought hard to conceal any disappointment, maintaining a composed smile at your response, "Ah, yes, indeed. How inconsiderate of me not to offer you a tour of the palace first, especially after the delightful tour you provided me at General Park's estate. I believe it's only right for me to return the favour now."

You blinked, "B-but the banquet—"

The prince grinned, cutting you off, "As you can see, you've arrived quite early, my lady. The other guests are not here yet, so I might as well keep you entertained until the event officially begins."

The assistant and head maid were deeply uneasy about the situation unfolding before them as they watched you, left with not much of a choice, agreed unsurely to the so-called tour. It was evident to them that this must be part of Yeosang's scheme. Jongho had ensured your departure from the estate was precisely timed; you couldn't have arrived too early.

"Fantastic! Now, if you'll just come with me," His Highness beckoned as the three of you began to follow him. Just as you started to move, he turned around smugly with an additional suggestion, "Oh, actually, your staff can stay behind if they'd like. That way, we can converse more freely, just the two of us, as we did back at the general's estate. What do you say, Miss Jang?"

It took everything in Eunsook to resist the urge to firmly remind the prince that you already belonged to another.

Similarly agitated by Yeosang's persistence, Jongho silently prayed that Seonghwa had received his letter. Despite being well aware of the impropriety of distracting the general during wartime, after much consideration and discussion with the other guys, they concluded that your husband deserved to be informed of the situation.

Fortunately, you offered a reassuring smile to your two chaperones before turning to address the fourth prince, "I'm sure that would not be necessary, Your Highness. I prefer having them close just in case I require any assistance."

As they witnessed your resolute refusal of the offer, Jongho and Eunsook felt a surge of pride. Truthfully, they had been anxious since Hongjoong had confided in them about the doubts you were harbouring regarding Seonghwa. But they dared not bring it up, wary of your potential reaction. Though a part of them had worried you might be swayed by Yeosang's charms, your firm stance reassured them of your unwavering loyalty to the general.

However, they couldn't shake off the sly glint still evident in the prince's eyes. He seemed oddly pleased despite your rejection to spend time alone with him. That troubled them deeply, and the two exchanged worried glances, silently contemplating what else he could possibly have in store.

With a light chuckle, His Highness replied, "Very well then, I suppose they could come along. This way, my lady. I know a few places you'll find intriguing."

Unlike your husband's staff, you were entirely unaware of Yeosang's intentions. Even then, there was just an inexplicably ominous aura to his demeanour that unsettled you, further intensifying your longing for Seonghwa. The banquet had barely even begun, but you already felt mentally exhausted, wanting nothing more than to rely on the general as you always had.

I miss you, Park Seonghwa.

Before you could dwell on thoughts of your beloved and his well-being, you suddenly recognised the surroundings. The enchanting cherry blossom garden, where you had first met the prince, spread out before you, "Do you remember this place, my lady?" He asked, his tone soft with nostalgia, "It has become my favourite spot in all of the palace since meeting you."

"How could I ever forget, Your Highness?" You replied, momentarily causing Jongho and Eunsook's hearts to sink until you continued with a genuinely innocent smile, "This garden is the only place I've had the pleasure of visiting so far."

Although your response should have let him down, Yeosang found his heart melting at your sincerity. It only served to deepen his admiration for you, knowing that you weren't one to offer insincere compliments or put on a fake smile just because of his status. You were simply yourself, and he found that utterly captivating.

As the four of you neared one of the garden's tallest and most exquisite cherry blossom trees, you found yourself gazing upward in awe at the falling petals, taking in the breathtaking sight. The beauty of the place was undeniable, and you couldn't help but imagine spending hours strolling around and admiring the flowers if this were your home.

His Highness watched you beneath the gently falling pink blossoms, feeling his heart swell with warmth. The scene before him was like a painting, and he longed to preserve it in his memory forever. Just standing there with you, experiencing this moment, filled him with an overwhelming desire to give you everything he had. It was a new and unfamiliar feeling for him, this deep sense of affection for another person. For the first time, he found himself completely enamoured by someone's presence.

"It truly is a sight to behold, isn't it?" You nodded wordlessly in response to the prince's question, reaching out to catch some of the delicate flowers before he continued, "You know, perhaps it's not too late to change your favourite flower from lotus to cherry blossoms."

Though his words seemed simple and harmless, they carried a subtle yet unmistakable implication. This was apparent to the assistant, the head maid, and, for once, to you as well. Deep in thought, you pondered the best way to respond to his suggestion. Somehow, you sensed a deeper meaning in his words from the determined look in his eyes that were almost silently urging you to choose him.

With a soft smile, you caught a falling flower, "Thank you, Your Highness. Cherry blossoms are indeed beautiful, but I still prefer lotus flowers. You see, cherry blossoms may be stunning when they bloom, but they also fall quite fast. To me, the lotus represents endurance and resilience, as it thrives in adverse conditions and blooms beautifully despite its surroundings."

This time, you hoped the prince understood the subtle implication behind your words. The short lifespan of cherry blossoms symbolised fleeting happiness, whereas the lotus embodied strength and perseverance through difficulties—a sentiment you hoped would mirror the love shared between you and Seonghwa.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged a subtle glance, their smiles growing wider as they registered the meaning of your response.

Meanwhile, Yeosang's composure faltered ever so slightly at your polite rejection. The light in his eyes dimmed momentarily, but he quickly regained his composure, masking any hint of disappointment, "Understood, my lady," He replied with a gracious nod, "You do make a good point. Since we've already been here before, let us move on to the next location then."

As he guided you through various parts of the palace, you found yourself fascinated by the history and beauty of each location. The royal library, with its towering shelves of ancient texts, stirred a sense of awe in you as the prince shared stories of his lessons there. The astronomy tower offered a breathtaking view, and you marvelled at the cityscape from above.

In the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly prepared dishes filled the air, His Highness confessed with a mischievous grin that he often snuck in for a late-night snack. You couldn't help but chuckle at his antics, finding his playful side endearing.

However, as Yeosang led you past the main hall where morning assemblies with His Majesty were held, Jongho's earlier worries resurfaced. Despite the seemingly innocent nature of the tour, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at him. Each step further into the heart of the palace felt like a step into unknown territory, and he feared what might happen next.

The assistant's breath caught in his throat as he realised the path the fourth prince was leading you down, the daunting sight of the palace torture chambers coming into view.

No, not this place. Anywhere but here.

In the warzone on the other side of the nation, General Officer Song grappled with his own internal conflicts as he tightly gripped the letters from Jongho and Prince Yeosang. He felt a strong reluctance to deliver them to his superior.

The truth was that General Park had sustained injuries in his recent and one of the more challenging battles. While the situation had calmed down and most of the enemy troops were either strewn lifelessly across the battlefield or had retreated to their camps, Seonghwa's injury had been kept secret to prevent causing panic within their army, following the general's direct orders.

Mingi stood in the makeshift office tent, the letters weighing heavily in his hands. His mind raced with thoughts, torn between his duty as a military officer and his concern for General Park's well-being.

On one hand, keeping the letters hidden seemed like the logical course of action. They were in the midst of a war, and any distraction for their most crucial member could be detrimental to their efforts. Having Seonghwa away from camp for personal matters could compromise their military strategy and the safety of their troops.

Yet, on the other hand, he couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility towards the general and his relationship with Lady Park. If he withheld this crucial information and something were to happen between you and the prince, he would bear the blame. The thought of Seonghwa's potential anguish at being kept in the dark about his wife's situation weighed heavily on him.

With no time to spare for further contemplation, a soldier from the medical team entered the tent, "Officer Song, the general's condition has stabilised. You're permitted to see him in his private tent now."

Acknowledging the news with a nod, the military strategist expressed his gratitude, "Understood. Thank you, soldier. I'll head there immediately."

Not wasting another second, Mingi made his way over to General Park's tent, his concern for his friend overriding any other thought for now. As he pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside, his heart lurched at the sight before him.

The usually formidable military commander lay in bed, his complexion pale and his once-strong demeanour replaced by one of weakness. Seonghwa's hand was clenched tightly around the bandages covering his abdomen, his expression a mixture of pain and discomfort.

"Hyung-nim," Officer Song's voice was filled with worry as he approached the bedside, "How are you feeling?"

Suppressing a wince, the general released a breathy chuckle, "I'm fine, Mingi," He reassured, though his tone lacked conviction, "I've never seen you look this bothered before. It's almost funny."

The taller man scoffed in response, "And I've never seen you in pain like this before. But this isn't funny."

Seonghwa waved off his friend's concern with a weak smile, "Don't worry, it's just a scratch," He insisted, though his tone contradicted his words, "One of those sneaky bastards on the battlefield played dead. I let my guard down for a moment, and he took advantage of it."

Mingi's eyes widened in alarm, "And he managed to graze you?"

Nodding grimly, the general replied, "Yes, it could have been worse if I hadn't reacted in time. But it's strange. The wound shouldn't hurt this much, considering it's just a graze. Perhaps it's my age catching up with me. After all, I'm not as young as I used to be," He admitted ruefully, "But it's nothing serious. Just a minor setback."

Relieved that his superior seemed to be in stable condition, the strategist decided it was best to allow his friend some much-needed rest. With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, he advised, "You should probably rest up. We can't have you bedridden for long. I'll keep watch for now."

As he moved to leave the tent, the general posed a question, stopping him abruptly in his tracks, "Wait, Mingi, did anything happen while I was being treated earlier?" The taller man froze, his hand pressing on the papers he had kept in his pocket anxiously. He debated whether to reveal the contents of the letters now or wait until Seonghwa was in a better state.

He hesitated, grappling with the weight of his decision. After a moment's pause, he opted to keep the letters from your husband. Turning to offer a strained smile to the general, he denied any incident, "No, nothing happened. Don't worry, hyung-nim."

Seonghwa nodded slowly, his brows furrowing slightly, "I see."

A heavy silence hung between them until the strategist broke it with a forced cough, "I should probably head out now."

Before he could move, the general's voice cut through the air with accusation, "Do you honestly think me a fool, Officer Song? I offered you a chance for honesty, yet you persist in deceit. I may be injured, but I am not deaf. I heard the messenger loud and clear. Now, hand me my letters."

Mingi cursed inwardly, realising his mistake in attempting to deceive the great General Park. Sputtering, he reluctantly retrieved the crumpled letters from his pocket before handing them over, "I-I'm sorry, hyung-nim... I didn't mean to—"

Seonghwa shook his head in disbelief, snatching the papers from his friend's grasp, "I know you only did what you thought was right, just as you always do. But we both know you're a dumbass when it comes to anything outside of war strategising."

The taller man sighed as he observed the general's expression darkening further with each word he read from both letters. His fists clenched tightly as he digested the contents of the prince's letter, the paper tearing at the edges from his grip.

This son of a—

Jongho's prayers seemed to be answered as his master finally received his letter, but merely reading it wouldn't be enough to fix any of the damage the fourth prince was about to inflict.

As you gazed at the looming building ahead, an odd sense of dread filled your stomach, signalling that it probably wasn't a place any of you should be near. Yeosang's grin only heightened your apprehension, "Do you know what this place is, my lady?" His question struck fear into the assistant, who now realised the prince's strategy. Casting an anxious glance at Eunsook, his eyes conveyed the hopelessness of the situation. Previously confident in your faithfulness to your husband, they now harboured doubts.

Blinking rapidly, you croaked out, "I'm afraid I'm not too sure, Your Highness. But perhaps we should head back to the hall; we've been gone for a while now."

The prince shook his head dismissively, "You're always so thoughtful, my lady, but the banquet can wait. Come on, aren't you curious? This is a place General Park frequents. Surely, you'd be interested to learn what he does here." Your blood ran cold in an instant, sensing the conversation was taking a dangerous turn.

"I'm sure Assistant Choi has become quite familiar with this place by now, haven't you? You're always here to pick the general up after he finishes his sessions." Yeosang remarked, amused, as he observed the younger man struggling to respond.

Smirking, he went on, "Welcome, Miss Jang, to the palace torture chambers. I thought it'd be enlightening to show you where your... husband typically conducts important duties. You must have been curious about his activities during his working hours."

The revelation hit you like a tidal wave, freezing you in place. This was where your family had suffered, where Seonghwa had overseen their punishments, as San had explained. The weight of the truth settled heavily on your shoulders, sending a shiver down your spine as horror and disbelief mingled within you.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged a look filled with desperation. They silently prayed for some miracle to whisk them away from this awful place. Oh, how they wished their master could appear now, but they knew it was nothing more than a wistful hope.

Your silence seemed to fuel Yeosang's discourse, "We should be thankful for General Park's services to the nation, of course," He continued, his tone dripping with faux gratitude, "Only the lord knows how many war criminals and spies he had tortured behind these walls to protect us."

Feigning contemplation, he added, "And if I remember correctly, he was also here when the Jang family underwent their physical punishments. Though I'm sure the general must have already informed you of that," He glanced at Eunsook, who lowered her head, her eyes shut tightly in fear of your reaction, "Especially how he made sure to spend extra hours with the former minister post-punishment."

Extra hours...?

Your heart plummeted to the lowest pit of your stomach as his words sank in. Did your husband do more than just supervise the punishments? The implications gnawed at your mind, and a thousand questions raced through your head. What else could Seonghwa have possibly done to your father? Dread washed over you in waves as you struggled to comprehend the truth behind the prince's insinuations.

« Preview of Part 17 »

"General Park! Where is he?!" The military doctor rushed into the main tent in a panic after realising Seonghwa was nowhere to be found in his private tent.

Mingi looked up from his documents, "My apologies, I should have informed you earlier to prevent any unnecessary alarm. The general mentioned feeling slightly better and had left camp to return home briefly for a family emergency."

"He left?! Is he making the journey back to the city alone?" The physician squeaked, eyes widening in alarm.

Officer Song nodded, his brows furrowed, "Yes, doc. What's wrong? You're scaring me."

Gulping nervously, the doctor retrieved the dagger used by the enemy earlier, "We found it unusual for such a small wound to affect the general so severely. We ran some tests on the weapon and..."

Mingi began to rise from his seat immediately, anxiety was evident in his expression, "Tell me, what did you find?"

"This dagger was laced with poisonous viper venom. It's potent enough to cause damage to his internal organs. He's lucky it was just a graze, but even so, we can't be sure how much venom has entered his system. He requires thorough treatment to prevent the poison from spreading."

Shit, shit, SHIT.

I AM SO SORRY! Okay, I know I said there would be drama in this part, and believe me when I say this, I fully intended to include it in this part in the beginning... but I am planning to end the story in part 20. So, after careful calculations, seems like it's only right to put the climax in part 17.

Also, it's official! There will be spinoff stories for the other members, I'm so excited! I hope you are too! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[starstruckunknown-princess]

Clematis - Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Clematis (Clematis) - Meaning: Ingenuity, cleverness

Summary: Anthony's lover comes up with a way to see him after the ball.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count: 1504

Warnings: SMUT, probably poorly written cunnilingus (F receiving), reader has female anatomy, Regency era gender politics, Anthony loves giving head

Day 15 and not sure how I feel about this one. Getting it in under the wire, it's almost midnight where I'm at. I just want a man to come in through my window and eat my 😼 okay???

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated! ❤️

If this was how Anthony Bridgerton kissed, you couldn’t imagine how else he could make you feel. His lips were firm against yours, but gentle, coaxing, his large hands tracing down your neck and along the line of your decollete which made your breath hitch. 

Part of the intoxication was the danger of the situation — you were the daughter of an Earl, a respectable lady of the Ton, and if you were discovered with Anthony Bridgerton’s hands and lips all over you, you would be ruined. 

You broke the kiss, needing an influx of air or you would surely faint. Anthony rested his forehead against yours. 

“I need you,” you breathed out, “Anthony, I need you.” 

He ran a delicate finger down your chest, “Not here, dearest.” 

“Then where? When?” You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as you pressed your pliant body against his firm one. 

He sighed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “If only I could whisk you away from here without drawing suspicion.” 

An idea came to mind — it was risky, but if he agreed you could continue feeling like you were on fire, and oh, how you wanted to burn. 

“Come to my home, tonight,” you whispered, gasping a little as his lips pressed against your neck, licking over your jeweled necklace. “There’s a trellis just under my window, you can climb right up.” 

“You wish for me to defile you in your own bedroom?” Anthony growled against your neck, “Naughty girl.” 

He agreed to the plan nonetheless, and you straightened yourself before heading back to your parents, claiming a headache and asking for the carriage. 

“But dear, you haven’t danced with Lord Hollingsworth yet!” your Mama declared, having selected the oh-so-boring yet oh-so-available man as your best hope for marriage at the beginning of the season. 

“Now, now Cecelia,” your Papa chimed in, “if the girl is unwell we shan’t force her to dance. I’ll call the carriage, dears, you two gather your things and say your goodbyes.” He nodded at you and ducked away, eager to get home as usual. 

From across the ballroom, you caught Anthony’s eye and nodded slightly. He winked, sending the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. He was to give you ninety minutes to make sure your parents were asleep, then scale your trellis like a hero in a romantic novel. 

Immediately upon your return home, you excused yourself upstairs. Your maid helped you undress, but you dismissed her quickly, claiming you could handle taking the pins out of your hair on your own. Over the next hour, you listened as your father retired to his study and your mother to her bedroom. 

Once you were sure your parents were in for the night, you placed a candle in your window — his signal that the coast was clear. Unable to remain still, you started pacing your room. Would he show up or leave you twisting in the wind like this? 

Only a few minutes of pacing later a knock came from your window. You dashed over, unlatching it and moving the candle for Anthony to pull himself up. He did so athletically, like letting a tiger into your bedroom. When he was inside, you closed the window and he was on you in a heartbeat, hot kisses along the back of your neck while his hands slid around your waist. 

Your hand came up to grip the back of his head, your fingers lacing through his silken hair. You pressed back against him, turning your head to meet his lips with your own. He tasted like whiskey and sin. He spun you around in his grasp and tugged you close to him by your hips. 

You gasped as you felt his cock pressing into your lower tummy — he was large. For a moment you hesitated, wondering how something so large would fit inside you, but Anthony’s insistent grip on your hips turned into him grabbing handfuls of your nightgown and pulling the cool silk up, up, up. 

“You came,” you gasped breathlessly.

“You didn’t think I would? Tsk, tsk,” he joked, clicking his tongue at you. “My dear, now that I’ve had a taste, I cannot get enough.” 

He emphasized his point by kissing your lips once again, licking his tongue into your mouth. You responded with a soft moan, which only seemed to spur him on. 

Before you knew what was happening, Anthony had tossed you back onto your bed and was  crawling over you, bringing the hem of your nightgown with him. Your breath hitched as you felt his warm, large fingers tracing trails of fire up your legs, teasing your wetness through your undergarments. 

“May I taste you,” he asked, and you moaned your response which prompted him to stop his fingers only an inch from where you needed him most. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and whined. He rose to meet your lips with his. “I need you to remain quiet, otherwise I will stop. And we don’t want that, sweet one, do we?” 

Anything. Anything he wanted as long as he kept touching you. When he saw you nod, he hooked a finger beneath your gusset and ripped it, baring your wetness to him. With eyes dark as obsidian in the light of the single candle burning, he gazed up at you with such heat as you had never known. 

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, then licked a long stripe into you, sending a lightning bolt up your spine. His lips curled around your clit and you shuddered. A moan threatened to slip past your lips but you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop it. The noise was caught in your throat, fluttering like a canary in a cage. 

Anthony hummed a, “good girl,” against you, making you clench around nothing. 

You moved your hands, making an effort to keep your tone low, “More, please!”

You felt him smirk against you before he redoubled his efforts, this time breaching your entrance with a thick finger. Moaning at the intrusion, Anthony took this as an invitation to add another finger, stretching you deliciously. 

You were close, so close, his fingers pumping and hitting a spot within you that you couldn’t reach, his tongue flicking against your clit. Each movement made the knot in your lower tummy tighten, threatening to snap at any moment. 

“Anthony, please,” you whined, unable to control your volume.

He slowed his fingers and removed his mouth from you. “Quiet,” he hissed, “Or do you wish for your parents to find me here?” 

Unconsciously, you clenched around his fingers. The danger of being caught added something you couldn’t name to the situation. Anthony smiled. “Mmm, does my sweet want to get caught?” He teased, and you clenched again, “I think she does. Such a wanton little strumpet, tempting me into a dark corner to kiss me, then inviting me to her bedchambers in the middle of the night, and squeezing my fingers at the thought of someone coming in…”

His words, said in his tantalizing baritone, were pushing you closer and closer to the edge. If only he would put his mouth to better use and—

As if reading your mind, his lips landed back on your clit and his fingers picked up their pace once more, again finding the spot within you that made you see stars with every pass. 

You clamped your hands over your mouth again and moaned his name, which only spurred him on. He drove into you, his tongue and lips reciting an ode against you, dedicating it to you and your pleasure. Having the entire focus of this season’s most eligible bachelor was intoxicating to say the least — and inevitably what pushed you straight into your climax. 

You writhed against him, held in place by his strong forearm as he worked you through your orgasm, the aftershocks lasting much longer than they normally did. Anthony remained between your legs and cleaned up every drop of your release before withdrawing. 

The clock in the hall chimed thrice. Anthony joined you when you reached for him, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You let your hand drift to the front of his trousers, palming his length until he guided your wrist away. 

“As much as I wish for it, I have an early appointment and must be on my way.” 

You pouted up at him, but he placed a sweet kiss to your forehead before slipping off the end of your bed with a promise to see you again soon. 

You watched as he made his way back down the trellis. When he got to the bottom, he blew you a kiss before disappearing into the dark Mayfair night.

The early appointment Anthony had, you would find out later, was to meet with your father. He asked for your hand that afternoon. And, knowing what awaited you in your marital bed, you happily said yes.

[alotofpockets]

Mini mate | Katie McCabe

Pairing: Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: Katie meets your kid for the first time, and they have an instant connection.

A/n: Part of the Mini Mate Universe

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k

-----

You were falling for Katie more and more after every date you had been on together. Besides her busy schedule, and your life with a toddler, you have managed to go on quite a few dates over the past two months. When you told her you had a child, and wanted to take things slow, she understood and respected that right away. Overall Katie had been great, and you loved the time you got to spend together.

Today you were out for lunch with your now girlfriend of a week, while your next door neighbour watched your son. Being a single mother, without any support from your family was hard in the beginning, but when Linda from next door had found out you were raising your boy alone, she had offered to watch him as often as she could. She was retired, and loved children. You had found a quick friend in the older woman, and honestly she was a lifesaver. 

You were a couple bites into your lunch when your phone rang, you looked down at the screen and saw your neighbour's name on the screen. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It could be about Jake.” Katie nods, “Yeah, of course.” You pick up the call, “Hi Linda, is everything okay?” On the other side of the line Linda responds, “Yes dear, little Jakey is doing just fine, don’t you worry. It’s just that I am afraid that I have double booked myself sweetheart, I have to be somewhere in half an hour, and I’m afraid I can’t take him with me.” You relax your shoulders when you realise that your son is alright. “Alright, I will be right there then. Thank you for calling.” Katie had already flagged down a waiter to pack your food as doggy bags. “My neighbour got something mixed up, so I have to go pick up Jake. I’m sorry for having to cut our date short.” She shook her head in response, “Don’t worry about it, darling. The waiter is just bagging up our food, and then I’ll drive you home, okay?” 

On the way home you were thinking how kind, and understanding Katie had been, something you weren’t all that used to. Your heart only warmed at the way she had treated you, which got you thinking. “How would you feel about meeting Jake?” You asked when you were almost back to your place. “I would love to meet him, but only if you’re ready for me to. There is no rush on my end.” Her answer made you smile, she was always making sure you were okay. “Yeah, I am.” 

Katie parks the car, and the two of you walk into your home. After putting away your lunch in the fridge you walk up to Katie. “Do you mind waiting here for a moment, while I pick him up? I want to give him a little heads up that someone else will be at home.” Again Katie was very understanding, and told you it was all good. So, you head next door. “Hi sweetheart.” Linda greets you when she opens the door. “Again, I am so sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin your date with the lovely lady.” You shake your head at the woman, “No need to apologise, I promise. And the lovely lady is actually sitting on the couch, waiting to meet Jake.” Linda brings you in for a hug, “Oh dear, I am so happy for you.” Linda had been a close friend of yours over the years, and had heard all about your growing liking of the woman you had been dating. 

Once Linda lets go of you, you hear little footsteps running your way. “Mommy.” The boy says full of excitement, he keeps running and jumps into your arms. “Hi kiddo, I missed you.” You pepper his cheeks with kisses. A car horn sounds outside, “Sorry honey, I have to leave, can you close up when you leave?” You nod, “Thank you, Linda. Have a good day!” 

You put Jake down, and start walking around to gather his stuff. “Did you have fun with Linda?” He nodded his head excitedly, he had been doing that a lot recently, and you loved his new adorable habit. “I play twains!” You sit him down on the couch, to put his shoes on. “That’s great baby, I’m glad you had fun.” You placed a kiss on his forehead once both his shoes were on. “There is someone waiting at home that I would love for you to meet. Are you ready to go?” He nodded again. “Okay, let's go then.” 

With Jake's hand in yours, you enter your home. Having Katie meet Jake was a big deal, and you were slightly nervous. You really liked Katie, and her and Jake getting along was very important to you. 

Katie was sitting on the couch, and waved to Jake who was shyly hiding behind your leg. “Hi buddy, my name is Katie.” Her kind smile, and soft voice made Jake move out from behind you. “Hi Kawie” Your heart melted at the way he pronounced her name. Jake let go of your hand and walked towards Katie, holding his bunny up to her. “What a cute bunny you have there, buddy. What's your bunny's name?” He hugged the bunny to his chest again, “Benny.” Katie smiled, “Benny the bunny, I like that.” 

The boy yawned, and started rubbing his eyes. “Hey kiddo, it's nap time. Can you pick out a book?” Your home was full of books for the toddler, and you loved giving him the freedom of choosing which story you would read before bed. He came back with a book in one hand and his bunny in the other, and walked straight up to Katie. “This one pwease.” Your fears of the two not getting along instantly fade away, when you see him reach up his arms for Katie to pick him up. She sat him on his lap and started reading the book to him, pointing at all the animals the book talked about. You snapped a quick picture, while watching the heartwarming scene in front of you.

When you came back downstairs after putting Jake down, Katie had plated your packed lunches from the restaurant, and had set the table. “You are amazing,” You say when her eyes meet yours. “and you were so great with him.” A tear escaped your, and you quickly wiped it away, but Katie had noticed. “Come here, darling.” She brings you in for a hug, and rubs her hand over your back soothingly. “I'm sorry, I've just been so worried about the two of you not getting along, and seeing him just walk up to you with his book, that meant so much.” She smiles and moves you so she can look at you. “Don't you ever apologise for that. You are a great mom, and I am so grateful that you wanted me to meet him.”

While Jake was down for his nap, you and Katie settled on the couch, cuddled up together while watching some TV. That was until you heard Jake start talking over the babyphone, letting you know that he woke up from his nap. You place a kiss on Katie’s lips before you get up. “I'll be right back.” 

“Kawieee” Your son runs to her the moment he notices that she is still there. She picks him up and twirls him around, “Hi my mini mate, did you have a good nap?” He does his excited nodding, as a response, and giggles when Katie tickles his belly. 

“Mini mate?” You ask once she has put him in his highchair for his post nap snack. “Yeah I call all my friend's mate, so he's my mini mate.” You laugh, “It's cute. I like it.”

Katie came over more often after that, the bond between the two of them only started to grow, and you couldn't help but fall in love with Katie over the next few weeks. Katie would be staying the night for the first time, you had stayed the night at her place before, but never at your place with Jake at home too. Jake was actually over the moon that Katie would be able to read his nighttime story, and help tuck him in. 

Once you got back downstairs you plopped down on the couch. Katie had gotten Jake a small Arsenal ball, and the three of you had been kicking it around in the backyard for a good part of the afternoon, so you were pretty tired. “You know how I was so worried for the two of you not to get along?” Katie moves her fingers through your hair and hums. “Well, I couldn't have been more wrong. He really loves you, you know?” She nods, noticing that you weren't done with what you were wanting to say. “I do too. Love you, I mean.” You were getting nervous, and messing up what you wanted to say, so you started again. “I love you Katie.” She smiles and moves her hand to your cheek. “I love you too y/n.” She pulls you in closer and kisses you. The kiss was soft, but at the same time it was filled with passion. 

A few weeks later you found yourself in the stands at Meadow Park along with Jake and Linda, cheering on Katie for the first time. Before the match started Katie had found you in the crowd and waved in your direction. Jake started excitedly waving back once you pointed her out.

You had watched Katie play on TV a couple of times since you had started dating, but never before had you experienced the game in such an environment. The crowd cheered and sang chants the whole time, it was truly amazing how much support the team got.

Arsenal won the match, and after she finished signing jerseys and posters, and taking pictures with fans, she made her way over to you. “You played so well. Good job captaining the team!” She brought you into a hug. “Thank you baby.” She hugged Jake next, and lastly she greeted Linda with a hug as well. “Kawie.” Jake said, making grabby hands towards her. She takes him from where you were holding him on the railing, “Did you and Benny like the football match?” Jake hugs Benny tight to his chest, “Yesss.” He adorably drags out the ‘s’. 

“Katie!” Is being called from behind her, “Katie, can you come here for a moment?” Katie sends her teammate a thumbs up, letting her know that she would be right there. “Duty calls.” She tries to hand Jake back to you, but he holds on tight. “Mini mate, I have to go for a bit, but I promise I will be right back.” She tries again, but to no avail. “Me with Kawie.” Katie looks up to you, “Do you mind if I take him with me on the pitch?” You shake your head, “Go for it. Jakey, listen very well to Katie, okay?’ You ruffle his hair before you let them go, and start your conversation with Linda back up. “You found a good one, honey, I can see how much she loves the both of you just from her eyes.” You blush at her words, she had always been very truthful with her words, even when they weren’t what you wanted to hear, so hearing her say that meant a lot. 

The team was waiting for Katie to do their post match team huddle to recap on the match through the eyes of Jonas. Once Katie joined, Jonas started talking right away, so no one had time to question Katie joining the huddle with a kid on her hip. At the end of the speech, Katie was the one to announce, “Team on three.” After which everyone put their hands in the middle, Jake wanted to join and put his hand on top of the rest of the girls. “Team!” The group said before moving out again. Though, some of the girls stick around. Katie was tickling Jake’s belly, pulling loud giggles from the toddler's mouth. “Who is this little guy?” Viv asked, tickling the boy’s belly as well. “This is my mini mate. Can you tell Viv your name, buddy?” The boy was loving all the attention. “Jake.” Katie smiles and holds her hand up to give him a high five, “Good job, buddy.” She then moves her focus back to her teammates surrounding her, “He’s my girlfriend's kid.” This piqued the interest of her teammates even more. “Your girlfriend is here?” Beth asked, and Vic quickly followed with, “Can we meet her?”

You watched from the stands as Katie was twirling Jake around, and walking back towards you with a few of her teammates. “Hi darling, they wanted to come meet you. This is Viv, Beth, and Vic.” She introduced them one by one. “It’s very nice to meet you, and good game by the way.” Katie sets Jake down on the ground, and starts softly kicking a ball to him, like you had done together in the backyard. He was loving all the attention he was getting from the girls, while you were getting to know Katie’s teammates. 

Katie had often talked about her teammates being like family, and the way they were interacting with your son, made you see that right away. You looked at the group of girls playing with him, and the big smile on his face, and in that moment you realised that your little family was going to be expanding over the next couple of months, in the form of lots of aunties. 

Jake was happily running around with Beth and Viv, a few steps away from you, when Katie joined you, both keeping an eye on the little boy. “What are you thinking, darling?” She says while wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “Just that I love you, and seeing him happy means the world to me.” You both smile at the giggling toddler. “I love you too. Beth and Viv asked if the three of us would like to join them for dinner tonight.” Katie turns to Linda, “You were invited too, of course, I just know you already have plans tonight.” Linda waves her off, “Don’t worry about me, honey, you kids have fun.” 

Katie kisses you before she heads down to the locker rooms, “I’ll see at the car.” You walk out of the stadium with Jake on your hip and Linda by your side. “Did you have fun, little Jakey?” Linda asks. His excited nods once again making an appearance. “Kawie and Beffy and Vivi play ball.” His pronunciation of their names brings a smile to your face. “Guess what kiddo, we’re going to see them later too.” His eyes widen before he hugs his body closer to yours, which you took as a sign that he was excited for it too.

-----

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[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Baby Blues || D. Targaryen x oc (Dear Motherhood Series)

GIF by @fireandbloodsource DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: In which a 15 year old Leyla Hightower experiences postpartum depression and all of the Red Keep and Daemon himself, feel the wrath of it. (head-canon to second choice)

Dear Motherhood Series Masterlist

warning: oc is 15 when she gives birth

The babe’s cries was all the could be heard inside the birthing chamber. The handmaidens all gushed at the baby as they cleaned her up. Leyla laid there motionless. She had never experienced so much pain in all of her years.

Her head slowly turned to the door to which Daemon entered with a smile plastered on his face. He immediately moved to the bed where his Lady wife laid and kissed her forehead, “You did such a good job, ñuha ābrazȳrys” He whispered as Leyla only gave a tight lipped smile (my wife)

She watched as he moved away from her and to their daughter who they already found a name, Alyssa. All the noises around the room had become muffled to the young Hightower and she didn’t even realise that Daemon was talking to her.

“Leyla? I asked if you want to hold her” He cradled the little girl in his arms. She didn’t want to in all honesty. She felt so incredibly exhausted and her body still ached from delivering her child mere minutes ago.

“Okay” She whispered before Daemon laid the babe on her chest to which she groaned. “Why isn’t she properly cleaned” The young girl quipped , her head turned to the handmaidens who quickly apologised and scooped her up to clean her properly.

Watching the whole ordeal, Daemon held Leyla’s hand. “How are you feeling? I imagine the labour was not easy?” He attempted to comfort her but Leyla stared off into the distance, not replying to him.

The prince moved form the bed to a handmaiden, “Did anything happen during the labour?” He questioned as he stared at his Lady Wife. “No your Grace, everything went normal” She replied before curtsying and walking away.

~

Leyla walked alongside her Husband, a 2 month old Alyssa in her arms. The two walked into Godswood where there was a celebration held for her sister’s pregnancy.

Whispers could be heard around as they stared at the young Hightower. Daemon too felt the tense atmosphere as he rested his hand on the curve of Leyla’s back. Her face was cold and expressionless.

The past 2 months Leyla had been acting incredibly off. Everyone could notice it people around the Keep would constantly gossip and whisper about it. Maybe it was the fact that she was only 15, and yet she already has child to the Rogue Prince himself.

“If you wish to talk about me, at least talk to my face about it” Leyla’s cold words stunned the group of highborn ladies as they look down to the ground; Daemon too glares at the group who were gossiping about his Lady Wife.

She continued walking to her father, King Viserys, and her sister who saw the ordeal. “Sister, how are you” Alicent gives a warm smile to the younger as she hugs her, cautious of the baby in her arms. “The same as always, sister” Leyla deadpanned before turning to greet the King and her father.

Alicent looks to Daemon with a sad expression as he sighs. Leyla beckons for the wet nurse who quickly took the child out of her arms. She couldn’t even find it in herself to look at her daughter as she was taken away.

Both Daemon and Leyla were taken around to different conversations and the whole time, she would stare down at her cup and not utter a word. “Should we go retire to your solar?” The silver haired men says lowly against her head as she nods, Daemon knew she wanted rest, she didn’t even want to be here but she didn’t want to hurt her sister’s feelings by not showing up.

Leyla let out a loud sigh once she sat down. Daemon sat at the chair opposite and busied himself with a book. The wet nurse placed Alyssa back in her mothers arms. Soon after she immediately started crying as Leyla rocked her to try to stop her loud wails but to no avail, the Targaryen babe continued.

Daemon rubbed his temples as he watched his Lady Wife attempting to calm down their daughter. “Hasn’t she already been fed and changed?” Leyla looked to the wet nurse who looked nervous but nonetheless nodded.

“Then why does she keep crying?!” She muttered annoyed at her baby. “Take her, she’s driving me insane” The young Hightower stood up, ready to give Alyssa back to the wet nurse. “Alyssa is not going to be comforted by the wet nurse but by you Leyla” Daemon sternly spoke, his eyes not leaving the book.

Both the wet nurse and Leyla look at Daemon, Alyssa’s cries intensifying by the minute. “I am already exhausted as it is Daemon-“ “Your her mother, you should be able to soothe your own child, am I wrong?” Daemon finally looks up.

Leyla was baffled, she opened her mouth and closed it soon after. She felt like bawling her eyes out too. “Please, please, please Alyssa stop crying.” Her voice cracked as she patted the babe’s back and walked around her solar desperately trying to calm down her daughter.

The wet nurse and Daemon watch her as tears fall down Leyla’s eyes, Alyssa had still not stopped crying. Daemon stood up and walked over to Leyla and took their daughter from her arms.

He calmed her down in an instant as Leyla sat down, her hand massaging her forehead. The wet nurse took the baby from Daemon so that he could comfort his Lady Wife.

He said nothing as he moved her head against her chest as she sobbed. “I am so exhausted Daemon, Alyssa- she’s-she’s so much work and its draining me” She quietly spoke as Daemon did nothing but listen to her troubles and stroke her back soothingly.

“I am no cut out to be a mother-“ The door to her solar opened loudly and startled the girl. Quickly sitting up and wiping the remainder of her tears, Daemon rolled his eyes and leaned back on the chair, oh how he hated seeing his face around. If he wasn’t his wife’s father, Daemon would have slit his throat ages ago.

Otto first looked at the wet nurse who was rocking his granddaughter in her arms before looking at Leyla. With a stern voice he orders the wet nurse to leave, and then Daemon. “If you think I’m leaving my wife in the presence of her cunt of a father, your wrong” He chuckles as Otto’s lips part in disbelief.

“You think I’d harm my own flesh and blood, my Prince?” He raises an eyebrow at the silver haired man. With a shrug of his shoulders, Daemon looks at Leyla who’s gaze is on her hands as she picks at her nails. He holds her hand to stop her from harming herself before looming up at Otto.

“You’ve harmed her enough by arranging this marriage. Now, you either speak to her whilst I’m here or you don’t speak to her at all” Otto scoffs shaking his head before taking a seat opposite the two. “Daemon. It’s okay” Leyla finally looks up to him.

He lets out a breathe, “I’m not leaving this room,” He says before standing up and making his way to the bookshelf. The two Hightower’s watch the Prince before their attention go back to each other.

“There has been talk around the Red Keep that you have been acting differently,” He starts off, “And do you believe them? They’re just talk father, they know nothing” Leyla scoffs in disbelief. The fact that he assumes the talk is true without even consulting with his own daughter about it was sad.

“I don’t have to believe them Leyla, I have seen it myself,” Otto stares into his daughter’s soul as she gulps. His comment made Daemon look to the two. “It’s not difficult to notice how ignorant you are to your own child. Gods, you walk around the place like a ghost Leyla!” He half shouts.

Daemon makes his presence known as he takes a seat near the two of them. Leyla glances at him before looking at her father again, “Father I’ve just been tired and she’s alot of work!-“ “Don’t act as if you take care of the child. Your wet nurse and maids do.”

Daemon chuckles, “She takes better care of her own child than you ever did when Leyla’s mother died” He butts in. Ignoring the Prince’s comment Otto continues, “People are saying you are incapable of being a mother-“ “Because I am!” Leyla yells, leaning forward in her seat as tears start rolling down her face again.

Daemon shifts in his seat as he leans over and rubs her arm. Otto looks taken aback, he was not expecting that answer from her daughter. “Oh please father,” She chokes back a chuckle, “Don’t act as if you’re surprised. I’m 15 for gods sake! Of course I’m incapable of looking after another human being, what did you expect?” Leyla spat in anger.

All her pent up emotions building up from the past 2 months were finally spilling out. “You act as if it is my fault for your ill-manner behaviour towards your own flesh and flood!” Otto points to her. “If it wasn’t for your pressure of producing heirs for Daemon and this marriage, I wouldn’t be in this situation” Leyla spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence filled the room. “I think it’s best you leave, Otto” Daemon stands up and looks down at him. The man scoffs and gives one final look to his daughter before leaving the room.

[jumbojazzcats93]

I'm Not Nice - Ghost

Summary - A Queen driven to resent her King by his lack of consideration for her in relation to his mistress.

Tags/Warnings - royalty, infidelity, love to hate, angst, inspired by Please, Please, Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Banners by @/saradika-graphics @glossysoap @quietlyignoringyou @lordlydragon @grizzersmamma @ivymarquis @violet-phantoms @gremlingottoosilly

"Your Highness... you should not delay any further."

The poor attendant... he's too old to be subject to stressors such as this.

"Do you suggest I enter without His Majesty?"

The question wasn't meant to be discourteous, but the attendant dabs a handkerchief at his forehead nonetheless. You purse your lips. He's with that woman. You know it. He knows you cannot enter alone without there being damage to your influence as the queen, yet still, he's late. You close your eyes as they sting with tears of frustration and look up. Deep breaths. You cannot be seen as having been bothered by this. It'll just make you look weak.

"A decision, Your Highness?"

You steel yourself and smooth your hands over your dress. Swallowing hard you announce, "Five more minutes. We must afford His Majesty some more time before we make any brash decisions." The attendant simply bows. "Yes, Your Highness."

Clenching your jaw, you face away. Late to his anniversary ball... Simon Riley... please don't bring me to tears when my makeup has been done just so.

The fairytale books made no mention of scheduled nights to lay with your husband. Neither did your mother, your tutors, or your ladies in waiting. There you sat on the bed of your marital chamber. The doors were shut, but it didn't stop the conversation right outside the door from leaking in. You listened to her beg him, your husband, not to lay with another woman.

Another woman.

As if you weren't her queen. Her monarch. The servants and guards were surely waiting with baited breath to share the news of the Kings mistress interrupting his time with the Queen once again. You knew that where the begging and sweet words failed, the tears would win. For the last several weeks Simon had rebuffed you in favor of her. Within minutes of his entrance to the marital chamber, the guards would announce her arrival and request for a moment of his Majesty's time.

But you would not be rejected again tonight.

You stand from the bed and slip your robe back over your chemise. You pay no more mind to the conversation outside the door as you drink down the rest of your wine and make your way across the room. Yet before you've even made it half way, the door opens and Simon appears. "My Queen, let-" "No need, my dear husband." The title of husband has carried a sour taste as of late. "I shall retire for the night and leave you to your affairs." Glancing behind him you see no one but the guards.

"You're leaving?" Surprised, you look back to Simon. For him to look so disheartened.... it saddens and angers you. You clench your jaw and swallow. "You clearly have other things to attend to. I will not keep-" "I turned her away." Simon rushedly cuts you off. "My Queen. My wife... please stay." You feel your pride fizzling away. Your eyes are wide and your body shivers. How could you turn down such a request? It's all you've wanted since your wedding. The attention of the man you were raised to love and adore.

"Of course I'll stay."

"Who has approved of this!?" You cry out. "Surely not His Majesty, The King!"

The squire begins to confirm to you, that it was indeed the king, but you stand and cross the room before he can finish. You're out the door before your attendant can even rise from his seat in your office. A choruses of "Please, wait!" and "Your Highness!" echo after you in the hall as you beeline for the King's office. The guards cannot even finish announcing you before you're opening the doors and storming in.

"Your Majesty, surely you've sent me this request in jest." The document is placed squarely in the center of the desk over the rest of his papers. "Surely you do not intend to build a palace for your mistress with funds from the queens allowance."

It's only then, in horror, that you notice her. As Simon opens his mouth to answer you, a woman's voice interrupts. Her voice. "Your Highness, it is very uncouth of you to arrive in such a way unannounced." She acts completely scandalized as if she is the owner of this palace. It makes you sick, but you must maintain a semblance of composure in order to save face among the servants. "My Lady, I'd like to speak to my husband in private. Would you please leave us?" Being in her presence is the only time you address Simon so informally in public. It's a desperate act to remind her of her place that never seems to work. She looks at Simon. He works his jaw for a moment before dismissing her with a nod. The audacity to ignore you, The Queen, as if she has some position over you by being holding some of The Kings affections. Your blood pressure spikes at the exchange.

At the sound of the door shutting Simon sighs and leans back. "My queen... your allowance was barely cut into. Why would such an insignificant amount of gold provoke this type of reaction?" "Your Majesty, do you feign muteness to drive a reaction from me?" His expression gives nothing away. He must genuinely think this okay. You take a deep, shaking breath. "My husband... can you truly see no issue in taking from your wife, to give to your mistress?" His jaw shuts with a click of his teeth. Its a disgusting realization. That he must think of you as only The Queen, not as his wife.

You feel a familiar burn in your eyes.

One hand reaches and brushes it's fingers along the edge of his desk. "I believe I will be retiring early for the day, Your Majesty." Your hand retracts and folds in front of you again. "I'll be taking my evening meal in my chambers, you'll not be seeing me." As he rises from his seat he begins to hurredly speak. "My Queen-"

Your voice raises slightly, "I pray your evening is pleasant." And with an elegant curtsy, you take your leave.

"Your Highness, the delegation has arrived in the banquet hall."

"Thank you, madam."

Your hands are wringing in your lap. He better not be late this time. You've worked on this treaty for months and for you to be embarrassed on your first meeting with the delegation would be the final blow to you pride. All you can do is sit in the Solar and wait, though. Your irritation growing by the minute. Even your lady's maid looks anxious. You decide to quietly ask, "Where was he last seen, Madam Dia?"

She hesitates and it answers the question before she even utters a word. "His Majesty was last reported to be in her chambers, Your Highness. Im sorry." The pity in her voice makes your stomach turn, but the anger that fills your chest overtakes your embarrassment like a tide. You take in a breath to calm yourself, so deep it hurts, and stand up. "I cannot wait this time. We must enter the banquet hall and greet the delegates." "Yes, Your Highness. I will notify the attendants." She begins to hurry to the door, but it abruptly swings open before she can reach it. Simon swoops into the solar with haste. Your lady's maid bows deeply before hurrying out the door. He looks at you out of breath. "Your Majesty, you must be truly set on fraying away every last one of my nerves."

Cringing, he responds, "Lady Tanya, kept me longer than I anticipated. Please forgive me." To utter her name in front of you... he must truly have taken leave of his senses. It enrages you even more. Your eyes flare and the anger loosens your tongue to a dangerous extent.

"Dear Husband, I could handle personal slights and dismissals, but for such important public events..." Your breathing is shaky, but carefully controlled. You approach until you're chest to chest, fixing him with a brutal glare. "Heartbreak is one thing, my ego is another. I beg you do not embarrass me today."

He's floundering for words as you walk past him and head for the Banquet Hall's entrance.

[gildedkrone]

I'm the boy next door, let me come in🔞

Part 2 to this fic

Relationships: Ghost x verse!Male Reader Synopsis: You meet him years later and he still can't forget you. Master List

Simon doesn't text back anymore. You aren't so much surprised as disappointed to know it would end this way. He has a wife to go home to, and your next client wouldn't wait for you to get over the very one-sided heartbreak.

The chat ended on a single message from Simon.

["Take care, luv. Hope this helps you with your dream."]

A transfer of ten thousand pounds into your bank account. You don't want to know how he acquired said information, given he is a military man, you wouldn't put it pass him to have used his clearence to search you up. Would it have killed him to do it in person? No. But anything, is better than nothing from a man you should have never gotten attached to.

It's a bittersweet end and the end of your "relationship" with the man.

---

A cigarette between his lips and his moment of peace was interrupted by his secretary entering his office after two knocks.

"Mr Riley, you have an upcoming meeting at two with the Mr Decartes, should I arrange for him to wait in the conference room?"

He flicks two fingers (yes) and snuffs out the cigarette. The Riley family always had a name in the military business, and the newly retired lieutenant returned home to Manchester to hold the reins to his family empire. Post military life is mundane, he supposed. There's no threat of being knived or shot when out bumbling about the streets of the city and most people give him a wide berth of space, if nothing but fear of his size. The skull mask is gone, replaced by a simple black mask concealing the bottom part of his face.

---

The train to Edinburgh is packed to the brim and per his request, the entire business coach is booked out to give him some semblance of privacy. The online meeting is rotting his brain with the incessant business partners and their multitude of requests. Eventually, the meeting ends not before the train is slowing to stop.

"Dear ladies and gentlemen, due to a railway signalling fault, we are unable to proceed to Edinburgh and the train will be stopping at Carlisle. Please speak to a train attendant if you have questions about transfers and continuing your journey."

Fuckin' hell and now even the train is conspiring against him. The attendant is apologetic and informs him of his choices. Return to Manchester on the train in three hours or wait for an unspecified time for the next train to Edinburgh. Either way, he isn't reaching his destination within the same day.

---

He has hours to burn, and he begins with getting coffee. Carlisle isn't a big city and he spends some time walking about the place and looking at things. Whatever British people did for fun. His mindless walk brings him to a flower shop and before his mind could object, he was pushing past the doors and the sweet chime into the cool and empty shop. There is nobody at the counter and he rings the bell.

"Coming!"

Sounds of shuffling as a man returns from the rear of the shop and you stop behind the counter.

"Hey, is there anything I can do for you?" You flash him a smile and he is taken back by the sight. It's the man he's had a fling with five years ago but there is no recognition in your eyes. Was it the mask?

"I'm looking for something for a business deal."

"Oh, do you know what arrangement you would like?" He looks confused and you continue. "We can make it in different sizes and shapes if you have any in mind?"

"Not really. Do you have pictures?"

"Sure do." You grab the folder of pictures and flipped to the business section. When you looked up, the man has an unfathomable look on his face. He takes his time reviewing through the photos and asks several questions about the shop. How did it come to be etc. You tell him about the ten thousand dollars a man left for you once and he knows, confirms it is you.

"So I moved from London up north here to settle down and open my shop. Business is doing well and I've just received a giant order for a wedding. Might need to hire some people to help me out there."

He doesn't know what his traitorous mind was on when he mouth blurts out how willing he is to help. He is dressed in some formal attire and clearly not a contract worker but he is insistent, so you relent and tell him to meet you after dinner. Especially knowing how difficult and costly it is to hire rush work.

---

Edinburgh is the last thing on his mind when he shows up to your shop at eight in the evening. He opted for a large hoodie and some sweats and you usher him into the back of the store where the greenhouse is. His mask is still on and the hoodie is drawn over his head and you crack a joke about dressing correctly since it's cold in the greenhouse.

You make the first of many bouqets and he examines the shape and quantity of flowers in it. The silence is amiable and the man is a fast worker. Precise and controlled, his first bouqet is beautiful and well made. You disappeared into greenhouse to get more flowers and he follows you back in. Midway through the gathering of some flowers and he speaks.

"You don't remember me."

You give him a puzzled look and set the flowers back down. Did you know him?

He sighs and pulls back his hoodie and removes the mask on his face. It's him. It's Simon.

---

"What are you doing here, Simon?"

He sips his coffee and the both of you are seated behind the counter.

"The train broke down and 'm was exploring the city. Stumbled upon your shop and …"

"Are you no longer in the military?"

"Left the job. Had to go home and run the business."

He is still an absolute looker even five years later and his fingers gently brush against yours where it stays.

"Simon, your wife--"

"We're divorced. She's no longer my wife." He elaborates something along the lines of a falling out between the two families over business.

"Oh."

His hands are rough and calloused, and they hold yours.

"It wasn't a possibility then, but … I--"

"Simon, we can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Did you really love me? We had a fling, not a real relationship. I am past the age of flings and I want a real relationship."

"I can give yer that. Only if you would let me."

"Si--" And the rest of the sentence was stolen by his lips against yours. He is insistent and all of the walls you imagined comes crashing down at the taste of him and the hand on your thigh.

"Luv, fuck, missed yer fuckin' lips." And your moan is breathy as his touch crept up your thighs.

---

You weren't sure how it happened, but the kiss ends with you and him in the greenhouse and his hands in your pants. He is pleasure incarnate and his hands move with an urgency to feel you. They roam across expanses of skin before digging into flesh and unbuttoning your jeans. Your mind is drunk on the pleasure and your dick is aching to be touched, with the way it bobs up and down.

The touches are something clandestine, and you used to be his illicit affairs. Now, you are his partner? Lover? The definition is irrelevant as he turns you around to face him before pushing you into the wall. His dick is freed from his joggers where they tented the garment obscenely and he hands rest at your hips.

"If yer asking how serious I am, 'm fuckin' serious about this." The whispers of past encounters are strong and he gives your dick a few strokes before he hugs you tight and your dick pokes against his ass.

"Fuck, Simon, you sure about this?" His response is a sloppy kiss and a muffled yes.

"Have you done this--"

"Nobody. There's nobody after you." Fuck, if that doesn't send your desires higher to know he saved himself for you all these years.

You finger him gently to loosen his rear and gently slide into him until he is moaning and spasming around your dick. He is impatient and tugs your hand but you refuse to fully bottom out, knowing this is likely foreign to him and unwilling to hurt him. Tight, warm heat hungrily swallows your length and you fight off the urge to slam your hips into him—to show him who controls his pleasure. Gruff and gravelly moans get louder with each thrust and with eyes lidded in pleasure, he takes dick so beautifully and you reward him with kisses and bites to his neck. He chokes at the feeling of skin breaking when you leave a hickey. The sudden imagery of domming him and making him beg to cum is fire in your veins and you slow your thrusts.

"C'mon, fuck, yer heathen, stop teasin'." He gets another kiss and he whines.

The great Simon whining like a pup and trying to get himself off on your dick after years of abstinence is making your head all muddy. His hips squirm and he grumbles when you pull out of him only to turn him around to face the wall. The smack of his hands against the wall is loud when you enter him without warning and he is practically clawing at the walls to remain standing under the onslaught of pleasure.

"Fuck, not gonna last if you keep doin' this," and true to his word, his greedy hole tightens around you as he tipped his head back into a moan. Your hand guides him through his orgasm as the wall is coated with pent up ball batter and you are finishing in him with a whine and whimper.

He felt as divine as ever, even when he is below you and twitching from the aftershocks of an orgasm. Mercifully, he doesn't fight your attempts to clean him up even if a clench of his core meant more of your cum is dripping down his thighs. Your dick jumps at the creamy sight but Simon is fully sated and you are content to wait.

Here in the shop, everything feels right. Hearts aligned in a bow drawn taut towards love are yours and his.

---

"Simon, the dog is fighting the mailman again."

"Fuckin', luvvie, its your decision to get a dog."

"You didn't say no when we were at the shelter."

He groans when you shift on his lap while keeping him warm and cozy as the dick in your ass pokes against your prostate. Pre spills from your dick and he swipes a finger through the milky substance for a taste.

"This is, all your damn fault," you choke out between pants when his dick juts into further into you.

"Can't blame a man for wantin' more, sweetheart. Now sing for me," and those hips are determined to be the death of you. Ah, the joy of pleasure and to die from it, you think you could die happy in the lap of your man.

Raspy growls and a man possessed to chase and seek pleasure after years of draught is a dangerous combination. Your head rests against his shoulder amdist thrusts jostling your body.

"Fuck it, he can deal with that damned dog while I make you cum, darling."

[7-wonders]

whenever the fates called morpheus love or dear it just gives me this image of morpheus coming to meet reader at their volunteer job at an old peoples home and all the elderly ladies giggling and calling him such a handsome man and why if they were a few decades younger they'd have him for themselves you're standing in the background not knowing how to reply to any of that

(This was like pulling teeth. When will my ability to write return from war?)

There are many little quirks when it comes to being in a relationship with a primordial, all-powerful being such as Dream of the Endless. One such instance is that time does not run the same for an Endless as it does for a human. Morpheus can lose minutes, hours, days to his duties between one blink and the next.

The Dreaming, that fantastical kingdom that your lover rules over, runs on the same logic. You can spend what feels like an hour in the Dreaming, only for it to be an entire day later in the Waking. Likewise, weeks in the Dreaming can be merely an hour in the Waking. It's disconcerting to creatures that have lived far longer than you.

All of this is to say that your meetings often don't have a specific date or time when they're in the Waking, simply because Morpheus doesn't know. He tries, though it's difficult: clocks do not work in the Dreaming, and Matthew is too important a raven to be constantly flying to the Waking to check the time so that Morpheus can "run off" (Matthew's words) with you. You've actually started to look forward to the spontaneity—it helps that he usually gets lucky and catches you when you're home or alone and don't have to worry about explaining how he just randomly appeared out of thin air.

Though it's rare, him coming to the Waking to see you and you being in public has happened before. This time, he shows up when you're just finishing up at the retirement home you volunteer at a couple times a month—you're in charge of what's supposed to be a crossword puzzles group, but what is mainly just a gossip group.

Most mortals aren't able to see Morpheus when he doesn't want to be seen. You're not most mortals, however, and you've gotten pretty damn good at sensing when he's around, which is why you're the only one that notices him lurking in the corner closest to the door.

"Hi," you mouth, trying and failing to hide your grin as you give him a discreet wave.

Your excitement must be palpable, because the women quickly pick up on it and thus catch sight of a tall, dark, and handsome stranger across the room. Ethel, the boldest of the group by far, grabs your arm and yanks you down to her level. "Is that the boyfriend?"

"Yes, that's the boyfriend."

They all know about the boyfriend because you've gushed about your beloved to this little group more than a few times. How can you not, though? Especially when you're surrounded by those who enjoy living vicariously through you and thus cajole you into sharing such stories about your love life.

"She thought he was fake, y'know," Ida informs you.

"Did not!" Ethel retorts. "I was just curious because you never showed us any pictures!"

"I've told you before that Morpheus is a little camera-shy." You don't actually know if that's the case or not; you just haven't yet figured out how to ask the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and nightmares if he wants to take a cute couple's selfie.

"Morpheus! Oh, how exotic." The little group titters, thrilled at having learned his name.

The man (-shaped being) of the hour has moved, placing a hand on your lower back so as to not frighten you when he suddenly stands next to you. You smile up at him and are greeted with the smallest of smiles in return while the sounds of your seniors oohing and aahing fade into mere background noise. Surroundings tend to become meaningless when you see Morpheus; all that matters then is you and he.

Morpheus is the one to remind you that you have an audience when he turns his attention upon said audience. He bows his head politely and says, "I greet you, ladies."

As you expected, they go absolutely nuts when they hear his voice.

"Oh my!" Ida blushes.

Ethel beams. "Aren't you a handsome one!"

"Why, if I were a few decades younger..." Shirley, who has absolutely no filter whatsoever, winks at Morpheus.

You sputter, your eyes wide and blood rushing to your cheeks. "Shirley!"

"What? I have eyes!"

While you're ready to hide your face in your hands and die (maybe you should see if Death has a cell phone), Morpheus simply hums in amusement. "You are very kind."

"And you are a sweetheart."

"Okay, that does it for me today," you interrupt. It's not a lie; you were literally saying your goodbyes and on your way out before Morpheus arrived! "I'll see you guys in a couple of weeks."

"You bring Morpheus around any time, alright?"

You can't get out of there fast enough, and Morpheus lets you practically drag him towards the parking lot. Once you're out in the fresh air (and away from any of the windows that your favorite gals could be spying from), you bury your head in Morpheus's shoulder and groan.

"I'm sorry. That was so embarrassing," you lament.

"Why? They were...sweet, if not a little overt in their affections."

You lift your head up to meet his eyes. "That's why it was embarrassing, my love."

"You are very clearly dear to them. They simply want to see you happy."

"I'm assuming you know that with your super special dream magic?"

"Daydreams and hopes are quite loud, starlight." He smirks because you know damn well just how loud some daydreams can be (specifically yours when you're thinking about Morpheus) before pressing his lips to your forehead.

"Well, you're certainly in their good graces now. They've been so nosy since they found out I'm seeing someone."

"So I lived up to their expectations, then?"

Now it's your turn to smirk. "Baby, you were beyond their wildest dreams."