#plus reader ofc

[sttoru]

im rlly tempted to make a series called parenting 101 and it’s just drabbles of toji trying to take care of (baby) megumi 💭..

[theetherealbloom]

You Got Me So In Love, I've Never Been This Possessive

Summary: While on a scenic boat trip along the coasts of Malta, you bask in the crystal-clear waters, and laughter with Pedro’s cast and crew. Despite his injured arm keeping him on the boat, Pedro can’t keep his eyes off you.

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Swimming, Bikini, Flirting, Teasing, Cast, Pedro Fell Down The Stairs, ER visit, Hurt-To-Comfort, Mild Spice, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best

Word Count: 5K

A/N: GOOD MORNING CHICKENS!!! Y’know how I said there would be a part two? Yup. Also, I know no one asked, but back in High School, I fell down the stairs… A LOT. Like every year for six years. No major bones were broken, only a sprained ankle every time I fell down the stairs, so in a way I guess I was lucky. PSA to always hold the hand railing, and like Pedro said, it can happen to anyone!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Te Quiero by KISS OF LIFE

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PASCAL RESIDENCE, CHILE — AFTERNOON  

The sun bathed the Pascal family home in a golden glow, the air filled with the scent of freshly baked empanadas and the gentle hum of conversation. You were seated on the patio, your legs tucked under you, watching as Pedro animatedly retold a story from his teenage years. His siblings—Javiera, Lux, and Nicolás—listened with rapt attention, their laughter bubbling over when Pedro’s dad chimed in with his version of events, insisting Pedro had exaggerated again.  

“Exaggerated?” Pedro placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “I would never! Everything I say is 100% true and scientifically proven.”  

“Scientifically proven to be full of nonsense,” Nicolás teased, earning a round of laughter.  

You couldn’t help but grin, soaking in the easy camaraderie of the family. Pedro’s hand found yours under the table, his fingers lacing with yours in a way that felt like second nature. He glanced at you, his dark eyes soft with a love so deep it made your chest tighten.  

“Tell them,” Pedro said, turning to you with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “Tell them I’m not lying.”  

You bit back a laugh, tilting your head in mock consideration. “Well… the story did sound a bit too good to be true.”  

“Et tu, mi amor?” he groaned, but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile.  

Javiera, ever the ringleader, stood and declared, “Enough storytelling! Let’s put her to the test. If she’s going to be part of this family, she needs to learn brisca.”  

Pedro leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Fair warning: They’ll gang up on you.”  

“Good thing I’ve got you on my side,” you murmured, a soft blush rising to your cheeks.  

“I’ll always be on your side,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple that sent a shiver down your spine.  

A FEW HOURS LATER…  

The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard. Pedro had wandered inside to grab more drinks for everyone while you stayed on the patio with Lux, discussing her latest project.  

The sound of a crash shattered the peaceful air. You froze, the glass in Lux’s hand slipping and shattering on the ground.  

“Pedro!” you gasped, bolting toward the house.  

Inside, you found him crumpled at the base of the stairs, his face pale and contorted in pain. Nicolás was already at his side, his hands hovering uncertainly as if afraid to make things worse.  

“Call an ambulance!” you shouted, your voice shaking as you knelt beside Pedro.  

He looked up at you, his breaths shallow and uneven. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said through gritted teeth, but his wince betrayed him.  

“You’re not okay,” you said, your hands trembling as you gently brushed the hair from his forehead. “What happened?”  

“I missed the last step,” he muttered, trying to manage a weak smile. “Guess I’m not as graceful as I thought.”  

“Pedro, this isn’t funny,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes.  

Javiera appeared with the phone pressed to her ear, speaking rapidly to the emergency dispatcher. Lux crouched beside you, her face pale as she reached for Pedro’s uninjured hand.  

“Help’s on the way,” Javiera assured you, her voice steady despite the panic in her eyes.  

Minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You kept your focus on Pedro, your hand gripping his tightly. “Just breathe, okay? I’m right here. You’re going to be fine.”  

THE ER — EVENING

The antiseptic smell of the hospital hit you as you paced the waiting room, your heart pounding in your chest. Pedro had been whisked away for X-rays, and you felt helpless, the absence of his hand in yours leaving you cold.  

When the doctor finally emerged, you rushed to meet him, Javiera and Nicolás close behind.  

“Mr. Pascal has a broken arm,” the doctor explained. “It’s a clean break, but he’ll need surgery to set the bone properly. We’re scheduling it for late January.”  

Relief and worry collided in your chest. “Can I see him?” you asked, your voice small.  

The doctor nodded, and you followed the nurse to Pedro’s room. He was sitting up in bed, his arm in a temporary sling, his face pale but his smile still intact.  

“Hey, troublemaker,” he said, his voice softer than usual.  

You crossed the room in a few quick steps, perching on the edge of his bed. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” you said, your voice breaking as tears spilled over.  

Pedro reached for your hand with his good arm, his thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. “I’m sorry, mi amor,” he murmured, his eyes glistening.  

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “I thought… I thought something worse happened. I couldn’t breathe until I saw you.”  

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the pain. “And I’ll be fine. Especially with you by my side.”  

You kissed him gently, pouring every ounce of love and relief into the touch. As his lips moved against yours, you felt the fear begin to fade, replaced by the overwhelming gratitude that he was still here with you.  

“I’ll take care of you,” you promised, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”  

Pedro smiled, his gaze tender. “I don’t deserve you.”  

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, brushing a tear from your cheek. “You deserve the world.”  

And in that moment, surrounded by beeping monitors and the sterile walls of the hospital, it felt like nothing else mattered but the two of you.

FORT RICASOLI, MALTA — DAY  

The sun was high over Fort Ricasoli, the Mediterranean breeze carrying a salty tang as waves crashed against the nearby shore. The reconstructed Roman Colosseum loomed grandly in the fort, its grandeur a perfect backdrop for the epic Gladiator II production. You stepped out of the transport van, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the bright Maltese sun, a bag slung over your shoulder filled with Pedro’s essentials—medication, snacks, and a cold water bottle you knew he’d try to avoid drinking unless reminded.  

As you walked toward the set, Pedro spotted you first, his face lighting up in a way that made your heart ache with affection. He was seated in the shade near the makeup tent, his left arm encased in a royal blue cast that made him look both ridiculous and endearing.  

“Hi,” you called, setting your bag down beside him. “I’m here to be your nurse.”  

Pedro’s grin widened, his dark eyes softening. “You’re more than my nurse. You’re my lifesaver. And I love you so much.”  

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “How’s the arm?”  

“It’s humiliating,” he muttered, holding up the cast as if it were a mark of disgrace. “Everyone keeps staring at it. Or laughing. Or both.”  

“There’s nothing humiliating about needing help once in a while, my love,” you said gently, brushing a curl from his forehead. “Besides, it’s a great conversation starter.”  

“Oh, yeah. Real smooth. ‘Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal, and I fell down a flight of stairs like a medieval jester.’”  

You smothered a laugh just as Joseph Quinn sauntered by, pausing dramatically to give Pedro an exaggerated salute. “How’s the mighty warrior today? Still battling gravity, I see.”  

“Go away,” Pedro groaned, waving his good arm dismissively.  

“You’re a walking PSA now,” Fred Hechinger added as he passed. “Don’t text and walk down stairs, kids!”  

Denzel Washington approached next, shaking his head with mock solemnity. “And here I thought I was the one who’d pull a stunt like that.”  

“Traitors,” Pedro muttered, pulling you closer as if you could shield him from the teasing.  

Coco, his ever-sassy hair stylist, smirked as she fixed his curls. “Just make sure she doesn’t trip over your ego next.”  

“Coco!” Pedro whined, but his cheeks flushed, his pout making him look boyish and undeniably adorable.  

Ridley Scott ambled over, his tone a mix of concern and exasperation. “Take it easy, Pedro. You’re not 25 anymore.”  

“Gee, thanks, Ridley,” Pedro huffed, pulling you against him as if seeking comfort.  

The day pressed on, the heat making Pedro’s clinginess somehow both unbearable and heart-meltingly sweet. Despite the steady teasing from the cast and crew, he stuck close to you like a second shadow whenever he wasn’t on set, his blue cast drawing as much attention as his ever-present pout.  

During a break, he tugged at your hand, a soft whine slipping from his lips. “Go with me?”  

You glanced up from the book you were pretending to read. “Go where?”  

“Craft services,” he said, gesturing toward the shaded area where snacks and cold drinks awaited. “I’m starving, and I need moral support.”  

“You literally just had a protein bar,” you teased, but stood anyway, slipping your hand into his.  

“As long as you hold my hand,” you added with a smirk, letting him lead the way.  

His good hand entwined with yours, his thumb brushing lazy circles over your skin as you walked. “You know I’m not letting go, right?”  

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”  

Reaching the craft services tent, Pedro made a beeline for the iced lemonade, his cast making the process comically awkward. You reached over to help him hold the cup steady as he poured, ignoring the amused glances from the crew around you.  

“I got it,” he insisted, though his pouty tone betrayed his frustration.  

“Sure you do, Mr. Dexterity,” you teased. “Here, let me.”  

As you steadied the cup, Paul Mescal appeared beside you, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “What’s it like being Pedro’s personal assistant and cuddle therapist?”  

Pedro narrowed his eyes, his body shifting slightly as if to shield you from Paul’s teasing. “She’s an angel,” he declared, his tone defensive. “Unlike all of you degenerates.”  

Paul laughed, grabbing a handful of chips. “Touché.”  

Connie Nielsen joined the growing group, her warm smile softening the teasing atmosphere. “An angel with the patience of a saint,” she agreed. “He’s lucky to have you.”  

You squeezed Pedro’s hand, glancing up at him with a playful glint in your eye. “Oh, I know.”  

Pedro leaned down, his voice low and sweet in your ear. “Remind me to buy you something shiny and expensive later.”  

“I’ll hold you to that,” you whispered back, brushing a kiss to his cheek just as Coco walked by, her ever-present smirk firmly in place.  

“Are we making out by the lemonade now?” she quipped, adjusting Pedro’s wig as she passed. “Just don’t knock over the drink dispenser, Casanova.”  

Pedro groaned, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching, betraying his amusement.  

When Pedro was shooting, you stayed nearby, perched under an umbrella with a bottle of water and a timer set for his next dose of medication. He’d been restless all morning, constantly checking in between takes to make sure you were still there.  

The moment the director called cut, Pedro scanned the area until his eyes landed on you. A small smile tugged at his lips as he made a beeline toward you, his costume slightly dusty from the action sequence.  

“Hydrate,” you ordered the moment he reached you, holding out the water bottle.  

He wrinkled his nose but took it, his good hand struggling to unscrew the cap. You wordlessly reached over to help, earning a sheepish look from him.  

“You know,” he said after a long sip, “you’re bossier than Ridley.”  

“You love it,” you countered, wiping the sweat from his brow with a small towel you’d tucked into your bag.  

Pedro’s lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze lingering on you. “I do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “A little too much.”  

Your heart squeezed at the tenderness in his tone, and you reached up to brush a stray curl from his forehead. “Good. Now go back to work. Ridley’s glaring at us.”  

He glanced over his shoulder, spotting the director gesturing for him to return. “Fine,” he grumbled, but not before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.  

As he walked back toward the set, Ridley shook his head, a faint smile on his face. “That woman of yours has you wrapped around her little finger.”  

Pedro shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t I know it.”  

THE XARA PALACE RELAIS & CHÂTEAUX, MALTA — EVENING  

The day had taken its toll on both of you, but by the time you returned to the cozy luxury of the hotel suite, Pedro’s exhaustion only seemed to amplify his need for affection. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, he flopped dramatically onto the small couch, casting a forlorn look your way.  

“Come here,” he said, his good arm extended toward you like a lifeline.  

You chuckled, slipping off your sandals. “I thought you were tired.”  

“I am,” he replied, his lips twitching into a pout. “But I’ll sleep better if you’re right here.”  

Shaking your head fondly, you joined him on the couch, only to be pulled down against his side the moment you were close enough.  

“It’s too hot for this,” you teased, trying—and failing—to push against his firm hold.  

“Don’t care,” Pedro murmured, nuzzling into the curve of your neck as if you were the only source of comfort in the world. “You make everything better.”  

You sighed softly, your resolve melting as your fingers found their way into his curls. They were still slightly damp from his post-shoot shower, and you gently combed through them, marveling at how they always seemed to spring back into place.  

“I think that’s the heatstroke talking,” you quipped, though your voice was warm with affection.  

“No,” he said, his voice muffled against your skin. “That’s the love of my life talking.”  

Your hand stilled for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you like a gentle wave. You pulled back slightly to look at him, but Pedro didn’t let you get far. His warm brown eyes met yours, brimming with sincerity that made your breath catch.  

“You’re insufferable,” you said, though the tremor in your voice betrayed how deeply his words had affected you.  

“And you’re perfect,” he countered, his tone so soft and certain it made your heart ache in the best way.  

Your cheeks warmed, and you leaned down to press a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re lucky I love you,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his skin.  

Pedro grinned, his good arm tightening around you as he pulled you even closer. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”  

For a while, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the air conditioning blending with the distant sounds of the Maltese evening outside. Pedro’s breathing began to slow, his head resting heavily against your shoulder as he drifted off. His cast was awkwardly propped up on his chest, and you carefully adjusted a pillow beneath it, not wanting him to wake up sore.  

As you gazed down at him, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep, your heart swelled with a familiar ache—one born of overwhelming love. He might’ve been clingy and dramatic, prone to complaints about his cast and the heat, but he was also tender and selfless, with a way of making you feel like the most cherished person in the world.  

You traced the curve of his jaw with the tips of your fingers, marveling at how even in his sleep, his hold on you never loosened. He was steady and constant in a way that made you feel safe, loved, and utterly at home.  

He might’ve fallen down the stairs, but it felt like you were the one falling—deeper in love with him every single day.  

Later that night, as the two of you lay tangled together in the king-sized bed, Pedro stirred, his voice groggy but laced with warmth.  

“Are you still awake?”  

“Barely,” you murmured, your head resting against his uninjured shoulder. “Why?”  

He shifted slightly, his fingers grazing over your arm in lazy circles. “Just wanted to say… thank you.”  

“For what?”  

“For taking care of me. For putting up with me being clingy. For loving me even when I’m ridiculous,” he said, his voice soft but earnest.  

You smiled in the darkness, pressing a kiss to his chest. “It’s not putting up with you, Pedro. It’s just loving you. And it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”  

His breath hitched, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his words carrying the weight of unspoken emotion.  

“You deserve everything,” you replied, your voice firm despite the tears prickling at your eyes.  

Pedro’s arms tightened around you, and in that moment, the world outside the four walls of your suite seemed to fade away. There was only the two of you, tangled together in love and gratitude, the promise of another day together stretching out before you like a gift.  

And as you drifted off to sleep, cradled in his embrace, you couldn’t imagine a place you’d rather be. 

COASTS OF MALTA — MORNING  

The morning sun bathed the harbor in a soft, golden glow as you and Pedro stepped onto the pristine deck of the yacht, greeted by the lively chatter of his castmates and the crew. The day promised adventure—an exploration of Malta’s dazzling coastlines, including the famed Blue Lagoon, Crystal Lagoon, and the secretive caves on Comino. The air smelled of salt and freedom, and the water, impossibly blue and inviting, stretched out like a gem-laden carpet before you.  

Pedro lingered close to you, his blue cast slung in a casual sling, though it didn’t stop him from giving your hand a light squeeze. He leaned down, his voice low and teasing.  

"Don’t get too excited," he murmured with a grin, his dark eyes gleaming. "You’ll make me look bad."  

You bumped your shoulder into his, rolling your eyes. "I can’t help it if I’m more fun than you."  

"More fun? Or more distracting?" His gaze flicked briefly to the bikini peeking out from your cover-up, his expression bordering on predatory before he quickly masked it with a playful smirk.  

“Behave, Pascal,” you teased, your cheeks warming under his intense stare.  

As the boat cruised toward its first stop, the Blue Lagoon, the mood was light and cheerful. Connie and Fred lounged near the bow, animatedly swapping stories with the crew, their laughter carrying over the soft sound of the waves. Coco flitted around like a hummingbird with her camera, capturing candid shots of the lively group. Near the railing, Paul was attempting to teach Denzel a ridiculous dance move, the two of them tripping over their own feet and causing more chaos than rhythm.  

You stood near Pedro, feeling the sun’s warmth on your skin, the gentle breeze teasing at your cover-up. A playful grin spread across your face as you untied the knot at your waist, sliding the fabric off and tossing it onto a nearby lounge chair. The vibrant bikini beneath was perfectly chosen—bright and bold against your skin, hugging your curves in a way that made you feel confident and beautiful.  

Pedro, seated comfortably in the shade with his injured arm resting on a cushion, froze mid-sip of his drink. His gaze locked onto you, his eyes darkening as they traced every inch of your form. Appreciation was clear in his expression, but it was the simmering heat in his stare that sent a thrill down your spine.  

You stretched your arms over your head, feigning oblivion to his attention as you joined Coco and Paul in their antics. The movement made your waist curve just enough to draw a quiet groan from Pedro’s lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by Coco. She smirked, leaning down to whisper as she passed him.  

“Subtle,” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement.  

Pedro didn’t even attempt to hide his grin. His eyes stayed glued to you as he shrugged, unapologetic. “Can you blame me?”  

Coco snorted. “Not one bit. But maybe cool it unless you want everyone else to notice how thirsty  you are.”  

“Let them,” Pedro muttered, mostly to himself. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he watched you laugh with Paul, the way your body moved under the bright sun making it nearly impossible for him to look away.  

When you caught his eye and shot him a playful wink, his good hand flexed against the armrest of his chair, the urge to pull you back to him almost too strong to resist.  

Later, as you leaned over the edge of the boat, peering down at the water with Paul pointing out fish, Pedro’s voice rumbled low behind you.  

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”  

You turned to find him standing close, his cast resting awkwardly at his side. “I am. The water’s beautiful,” you said with a smile, but his eyes weren’t on the water.  

“They’re not the only thing,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist.  

Heat bloomed on your cheeks, but you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips. “Pedro Pascal,” you teased, stepping closer. “Are you flirting with me on a boat in front of all your castmates?”  

“Flirting?” He scoffed, his voice rich with amusement. “I’m just admiring. Can’t a man admire his girlfriend?”  

“Girlfriend?” you repeated, arching a brow.  

He smirked, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost over your skin. “The girlfriend,” he corrected, his voice dropping into a tone that sent a shiver racing through you despite the heat.  

You bit your lip, glancing around at the others, who were too distracted to notice the charged moment. “Behave yourself,” you whispered, though your heart raced at the way his good hand brushed lightly against your hip.  

He grinned, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m trying, but you’re not making it easy, sweetheart.”  

The way he said it, rough and low, had your stomach doing flips. The teasing sparkle in his eyes told you he knew exactly the effect he was having on you—and he wasn’t the least bit sorry about it.

When the boat anchored near the Blue Lagoon, you practically bounced with excitement. “I’m going in!”  

Pedro chuckled as you grabbed your snorkeling gear, pausing to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Try not to miss me too much,” you teased before hopping off the boat with an elegant dive.  

“Not possible,” he called after you, his voice tinged with laughter.  

The water was cool and crystal clear, every ripple catching the sunlight like scattered diamonds. You swam alongside Coco and Paul, laughing as he tried to outswim everyone only to splash clumsily when Coco teased him about his lack of grace. Schools of fish darted around you, their silvery bodies glimmering in the lagoon’s shallows, and the thrill of the moment made you forget the world beyond the sparkling blue waters.  

Pedro watched from the deck, his good hand cradling a drink as his cast rested on his lap. He smiled softly, his heart swelling at the sight of you. You were so effortlessly kind, so radiant, laughing and splashing with his friends as if you’d known them your whole life.  

“She’s really something,” Ridley remarked as he joined Pedro at the shaded table.  

“Don’t I know it,” Pedro replied, his voice warm with pride.  

“She’s good for you,” Ridley said simply, his tone laced with a rare softness.  

Pedro glanced at the director, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. She’s my soulmate.”  

Later, you clambered back onto the boat, droplets of water clinging to your skin, sparkling in the sunlight as they traced lazy paths down your arms and legs. Your grin was infectious, the kind of radiant joy that could light up an entire room—or, in this case, the deck of the boat. Pedro’s eyes were glued to you, as though the rest of the world had faded into the background.  

“Having fun?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement but warm with affection.  

“The best,” you replied breathlessly, grabbing a towel and wringing out your hair. “You should’ve come in with us. The water is incredible.”  

He raised his cast dramatically, pulling a mock grimace. “In case you forgot, I’m a bit handicapped here.”  

“Oh, poor baby,” you teased, crouching beside him. You leaned in to press a playful kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just long enough to make him sigh. “Next time, I’ll stay on the boat with you. We can sulk together.”  

Pedro’s good hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer before you could stand. “Don’t you dare,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “Watching you have fun out there is the next best thing to being in the water myself.”  

You arched a brow, motioning to your bikini with a teasing grin. “You mean you like the view.”  

Pedro’s lips curved into a slow, devilish smirk. His mouth brushed your ear as he whispered, “I love the view.”  

The heat of his words sent a shiver down your spine, making your cheeks flush. You swatted at his chest playfully before standing and tossing the towel over your shoulder. “Careful, Pascal. You’re not supposed to overheat with that cast on.”  

The boat anchored near the caves on Comino, the turquoise water shimmering like liquid glass. Pedro waved you off with a mock sternness, insisting you go explore while he stayed behind.  

“I’ll hold down the fort,” he said, settling back into his chair with a small smirk. “Don’t get lost in there.”  

You rolled your eyes, blowing him a kiss before diving into the water with Paul and Fred. The group swam toward the darkened entrance of the caves, their laughter echoing off the limestone walls. Inside, the sunlight filtered through cracks, casting dancing patterns on the rocky surfaces.  

Pedro, stuck on the boat, didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. His gaze followed you like a shadow, lingering on the curve of your body as you moved effortlessly through the water. Every so often, you glanced back at the boat, catching him watching you. He didn’t even pretend to look away, his expression soft, adoring, and entirely unguarded.  

When you returned, dripping wet and exhilarated, you plopped down beside him with a dramatic sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder.  

“You’ve been staring at me all day,” you teased, your tone light but your heart pounding at the intensity of his attention.  

Pedro turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against your temple. “Can you blame me?” he murmured. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, your hand finding his on the armrest. “You’re laying it on thick today,” you joked, though your voice wavered just slightly.  

“It’s the truth,” he countered simply, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.  

Your moment was interrupted by Paul’s exaggerated wolf whistle from across the deck. “Get a room, you two!”  

Fred chimed in with a loud groan. “Some of us are single and fragile!”  

You laughed, your head falling back briefly before you turned to Pedro, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “They’re just jealous.”  

“Damn right, they are,” Pedro said, leaning in close. “You’re all mine.”  

The possessiveness in his tone was playful but sent your pulse racing nonetheless.  

Later, as the boat rocked gently in the open waters, you sat on Pedro’s lap, his good arm wrapped securely around your waist. The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold.  

“Pedro,” you said softly, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his thigh. “Can we stay like this forever?”  

His eyes softened as he looked down at you, his smile tender. “I’d stay here with you forever if I could,” he replied, his voice filled with quiet certainty.  

The weight of his words settled over you, grounding you in the moment. You bit your lip, leaning in closer until your noses brushed. “Please just kiss me already.”  

Pedro didn’t need to be asked twice. His lips captured yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of unspoken promises and a depth of feeling that took your breath away. His hand splayed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer as the world around you seemed to disappear.  

When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a soft laugh. “I think you might be my soulmate,” he said, his voice a mixture of awe and certainty.  

Your eyes searched his, and for a moment, the noise of the others and the gentle lapping of the waves faded entirely. “I think you might be mine too,” you whispered, sealing the moment with another kiss.  

Laughter and chatter echoed around you, the boat a hub of joy and togetherness, but for you and Pedro, time seemed to stand still. In his arms, surrounded by the beauty of Malta and the warmth of his love, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[andy-15-07]

Say Yes to Forever

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1697| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Warning: smut.

The restaurant hummed with quiet elegance, the dim candlelight flickering against the polished wood of the intimate booth Pedro had reserved. A soft jazz tune played in the background, mingling with the quiet murmur of other diners, but for Pedro, the world had shrunk down to the woman sitting across from him. Y/N. Seven years together, and still, looking at her made his heart stutter like it had the first time.

She was laughing softly at something he had said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The warmth of her gaze, the ease in the way she leaned toward him—it all felt like home. Pedro curled his fingers around his glass of wine, hiding the slight tremor in his hands. He had played warriors, kings, lovers, and villains, but nothing had ever made him as nervous as the tiny velvet box tucked inside his jacket pocket.

“You’re being weird,” Y/N said suddenly, narrowing her eyes at him with an amused smile. “You keep staring at me like I’m about to disappear.”

Pedro let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head as he considered her. “Can’t a man admire his beautiful girlfriend?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide the pleased flush creeping up her neck. “That’s not admiration, that’s—” She squinted at him playfully. “That’s plotting. What’s going on, Pascal?”

Damn, she knew him too well.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “Maybe I just want to soak in the moment. Seven years, cariño.” His voice softened. “Do you remember our first date?”

Y/N’s expression shifted into something more tender, her eyes glimmering in the candlelight. “Of course I do. You were late.”

Pedro groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Nope.” She grinned. “You were twenty minutes late, and I was convinced you had ghosted me.”

“I was filming, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased, lifting her wine glass to take a sip. “But then you showed up, all flustered and apologetic, and I decided to give you a chance.”

He smirked. “Lucky me.”

She reached across the table, lacing her fingers with his. “Yeah. Lucky us.”

Pedro felt his throat tighten. Seven years of stolen mornings, late-night conversations, endless laughter, and the kind of love that made him believe in forever. And tonight, he was going to ask her for exactly that.

His hand brushed against the ring box in his pocket, his pulse kicking up a notch.

It was time.

He took a steadying breath and smiled at her, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You know, I still can't believe you said yes to that second date."

Y/N chuckled, squeezing his hand. "You were persistent. And charming. And maybe a little bit of a mess."

"A little?" Pedro laughed, shaking his head. "I was a total mess. But you stuck around."

"Of course I did," she murmured, tilting her head. "You're my person, Pedro."

His heart swelled. "And you're mine."

The waiter approached with their dessert, a beautifully plated chocolate soufflé, but Pedro barely noticed. His focus was on her, on the love shining in her eyes. He inhaled deeply, shifting in his seat.

"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," he started, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers slid into his pocket, closing around the velvet box. "Something really important."

Y/N arched a brow, setting her fork down. "Oh?"

Pedro exhaled a shaky breath and slowly pulled out the box, placing it between them on the table. The world seemed to still around them, everything fading except for the two of them and the moment that had been seven years in the making.

Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly. "Pedro..."

He pushed the box toward her, then slid off his seat and onto one knee, right there in the middle of the restaurant. A hush fell over the surrounding tables, but Pedro only saw her.

"Y/N," he began, his voice raw with emotion. "For seven years, you've been my best friend, my safe place, my greatest love. I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want to imagine it."

Tears welled in her eyes, a soft, disbelieving laugh escaping her lips.

He flipped open the box, revealing the delicate ring he'd spent months choosing, making sure it was perfect for her. "Marry me, cariño?"

For a moment, she was utterly still. Then, a radiant smile broke across her face, tears slipping down her cheeks. She let out a shaky laugh, nodding fervently. "Yes! Yes, Pedro, of course!"

The restaurant erupted in quiet applause, but Pedro barely heard it. He slid the ring onto her finger, hands trembling, before pulling her into his arms. Their lips met in a kiss, warm and full of promise, sealing the moment forever.

As they pulled away, Y/N cupped his face, eyes shining. "I love you, Pedro."

He grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you more. Always."

The drive home was quiet, filled with lingering glances and intertwined fingers resting on Pedro’s lap. The streetlights painted golden streaks across Y/N’s skin, her engagement ring catching the glow every time she moved. He kept sneaking looks at her, grinning like a fool, his heart impossibly full.

As soon as they stepped into their home, Pedro reached for her, pulling her close. Music played softly from a speaker in the corner, something slow and familiar. He didn’t say a word, just took her hand and led her into the living room, swaying with her in the dim light.

Y/N rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “You’re really romantic when you want to be,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Only for you.”

They danced like that for a while, lost in each other. Every touch, every breath, every whispered ‘I love you’ was a promise of forever. And when he finally lifted her into his arms, carrying her upstairs, the night took on a different kind of tenderness.

In their bedroom, under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Pedro traced his fingers along her skin, memorizing every inch of her. There was no rush, only devotion in the way he touched her, kissed her, loved her. He unbuttoned her dress slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The fabric whispered to the floor, revealing her delicate lace bra. He paused, his breath catching in his throat, and gently unclasped it. Y/N reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers tracing the line of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his skin.

He pulled her close, their bodies flush against each other. His lips found hers in a slow, lingering kiss that deepened with every passing moment, a silent conversation of love and desire. He moved his hand down her back, cupping her bottom and pulling her closer still, their bodies molding together. She moaned softly against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He lifted her onto the bed, following her down, his gaze never breaking hers. He kissed her neck, his breath warm against her skin, then moved lower, his lips tracing a path down her chest, igniting a fire within her. She arched into him, meeting his gaze with a look of pure desire.

Pedro took his time, savoring every inch of her as if he were memorizing her all over again. His lips ghosted over her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts, before he took one hardened peak into his mouth, his tongue circling, teasing. She gasped, her back arching as his hands roamed lower, gripping her thighs, pulling them apart as he settled between them. His kisses grew more fervent, more insistent as he traced a path lower, his mouth exploring her in ways that made her whimper, her fingers digging into the sheets.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured against her skin, his voice husky. “I could stay here all night, making you fall apart over and over again.”

She moaned, her breath shaky. “Pedro… please.”

He smirked against her thigh, his fingers teasing her, making her hips lift instinctively. “Tell me what you want, querida.”

“I want you,” she gasped. “Inside me. Now.”

He moved back up, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. “You want me to fill you up?” he whispered against her mouth, his hands gripping her thighs, pressing her into the mattress. “You want me to fuck you so good you won’t be able to think straight?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her nails raking down his back. “I need you, Pedro.”

“You have me,” he growled, lining himself up with her. “Always.”

He entered her slowly, savoring the moment, their eyes locked, a silent exchange of love and longing. She gasped, her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. He began to move, slowly at first, then faster, their bodies moving together in a rhythm as old as time, a dance of passion and surrender. Moans filled the room, mingling with the soft music playing in the background, a symphony of desire. He kissed her deeply, his hand stroking her hair, his touch both tender and demanding.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his pace quickening, pushing deeper, hitting all the right places. “So perfect for me.”

She cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders. “Harder, Pedro.”

His jaw clenched, his movements becoming rougher, more desperate, chasing both of their highs. “You’re mine, baby,” he gritted out. “All mine.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her body arching as pleasure overwhelmed her. “Yours.”

The sensations intensified, wave after wave washing over them, building to a crescendo, a moment of pure ecstasy, a shared release. He held her tightly as they both shattered, clinging to each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

When they finally lay tangled together, breathless and content, the silence was filled with unspoken words, with the weight of their love and commitment. Pedro kissed her bare shoulder, whispering, “Forever.”

Y/N smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Forever.”

[caplanbuckybarnes]

In The Lonely Shadows (2/2) Dean W.

Summary: Crowely's always there to help convince you everything's going to be okay after Dean leaves with Lisa & Ben.

the first part of this was requested by my beloved wife @midnight-moonlight-and-mars sometime back in March.

Request: I've got a Crowley request! It can be platonic or romantic. It takes place the year Sam is resurrected and dean is living with Lisa. The reader was close with the Winchesters but after the fight with Lucifer dean abandoned the reader to be with Lisa and cas never answers ( unrequited love maybe?) so the reader teams up with Crowley and becomes like a bounty hunter for him for Lucifer loyalists. 

A/N: It's technically not Crowley x reader since she's pining for Dean. Oops, but I hope you enjoy this all the same, my love.

A/N #2: people were rabid about asking me for a part two. So please, enjoy!

WC: 1.7K

Warnings: mentions of loneliness, and blood, the reader feels abandoned and unloved, crowley’s nice, dean returns. sassy & protective crowley

[READ PART ONE HERE]

Read on Ao3!

--

Dean watched as your chest heaved up and down with every breath you took. The wind was howling outside, with rain pouring down. He was only partially soaked, having run for cover under teh pitiful awning above your hotel door. A suitcase was tucked into one hand and a backpack filled with supplies slung over the shoulder. He'd wanted to say goodbye before he left. But he couldn't. He was a coward, after all. He'd had a few visits from Castiel and Crowley, neither of them saying a word about you.

Though, he asked. He hasn’t spoken a word about Sam, either. The horror of watching Sam fall into the pits of Hell with Adam devastated him. So he ran away. He ran away to the person who would get him away from the hunter’s life, Lisa and Ben. He played pretend for as long as he possibly could.

Until he couldn’t keep up with the facade anymore. All he did was think about you, and the life the pair of you could have had. He’d find himself hovering over your name in his cellphone but never pressing the call button. Oftentimes, he’s stay up late at night, while Lisa laid peacefully next to him sleeping.  He knew he couldn’t lie to her forever about what - or who - truly had his heart.

Oftentimes, when he dreamed, it was about you, your face and your hands wrapped tightly in his as you started behind him on hunts. Thats what he loved about you the most, how much you trusted him to protect you.

So months after he departed, he located you in this dingy motel, where rodents and garbage littered the parking lot, and a few street lamps flickered dangerously in this damned storm. He’d gotten a replacement key to your room, claiming to the sketchy old man at the kiosk that he was your husband and you didn’t leave the key outside for him. So, on the threshold of the hotel room is where he stood, his fight or flight response kicking in the moment he laid eyes on you again.

He hadn’t seen you in months, far too long. But not long enough to forget the way your cheeks puffed out while you were embarrassed or the way your hair always fell into your face when you’d laugh at his stupid jokes. He couldn’t forget the way you would shuffle into his warmth at night, either.

God, did he miss the way you infected all of his clothing with your perfumes. 

He hesitantly stepped into the room, only to stop midway through in almost a panic. What if you moved on? What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you shot him? He wondered at that moment if you held any protection on you, or if you’d thrown all of it away.

But he took the chance anyway and stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him quietly. He quietly toed out of his shoes and turned around before fully surveying the room. He couldn’t see any other person’s belongings in the room, so he assumed you were indeed alone.

Nervously, he tiptoed to the bed and studied your face for a long moment. He remembered everything about you-- your eyelashes, the dimple on your cheek. He wanted to reach out to you, nearly stopping himself as he felt his arm move without his command. He brushed his fingers against your cheek before he knew what he was doing and stepped back as your eyes had flung open in terror.

“Y/N,Y/N, it’s me, it’s Dean,” he said, reaching behind him for the pistol he always carried with him, though, he would never attempt to hurt you in any sort of way. “Hey, hey.”

“Dean?” you blinked through the darkness of the room. You must have been sleeping. Because you thought you heard Dean’s voice. And you thought you seen him standing mere inches away from where you slept on the bed.

Before he could get the chance to respond, another voice filled the room, a voice you’d come to recognize and acknowledge throughout these last few months.

“She doesn’t need you, Squirrel. She’s doing great without you.” Crowley’s voice echoed in the small room. 

Pulling yourself into a sitting position on the bed, you wiped at your eyes before switching your gaze between the pair in front of you. Crowley had been watching you over the weeks, which you had grown weirdly accustomed to, so it was no surprise that he had appeared out of the blue. What had startle you, was the other man standing mere inches away from you. If you just lifted your arm a few inches, you would be able to clasp your hands together.

“You left her high and dry after Moose had fallen into the depths of Hell, where, mind you, he’s been shacking it up with Lucifer. You should hear the agonies and woes from him.”

You could see the agitated twitch in Dean’s cheekbones, even in the poor excuse of light shining through the cracked window curtains.

“But now, back to the matter at hand, hmm?” Crowley snapped his fingers, and the two-night lamps turned on, casting the room in sudden brightness that none of you was prepared for.

“How’s Lisa and Ben?” Crowley smirked as Dean looked entirely uncomfortable at the jabs. “Didn’t want to be a family man anymore, huh? Did she decide she didn’t want your baggage?”

“It’s none of your business, Crowley,” Dean quipped. He snuck a look towards you and almost melted at the sight of tears in your eyelids. He wanted to erase the heartbreak he had caused you. He wanted to erase the pain away from you.

He only wanted you to forgive him. He wanted you and only you. He wished he hadn’t run off after Sam had gone to Hell, but he was broken and insecure. He was scared that you would leave him as well, so he did the only thing he could think of doing at the time: He ran away.

He begged for Lisa to forgive him, and she did. She took him in immediately, even after he explained all that went down with Lucifer and Adam and Sam. She took care of him. And for a while, he could forget all the pain. He could mourn the loss of his brother in peace. But there had always been a hole in his heart that Lisa nor ben would veer be able to fill.

He hadn’t known it at the time until he had sat up the night before and wallowed in misery after having nothing but dreams and nightmares about you for months.

“No harsh words, Not Moose?” Crowley taunted as he took a step toward you, causing Dean to nearly topple backwards onto the bed you were still sitting on. “No quips? Nothing? What do you have to say for yourself? Because while you were playing house, I was left to pick up the piece of her broken heart! How noble of you.  Leave her behind to wallow in misery, and now what? You expect her to swoon because you're back? Pathetic."”

You never thought you would see the day when the king of hell would be red in the face at the Winchesters. But here he was, pointing a threatening finger in Dean’s direction while the other man looked like a kicked puppy. 

You wanted Crowley to stop the insults at Dean. But the fact that he was protecting you in this way meant so much to you. You never knew how much Crowley actually cared about you. 

"I bet she’s just thrilled to have you back. Nothing says 'I care' like a good old-fashioned abandonment, right?" Crowley scoffed.

“Crowley, enough,” you sighed as you finally pushed the duvet away from your body and stood up, causing Dean to look at you with hope. With your request, Crowley quieted down, though he didn’t cease the glare or scowl on his features. Ignoring him, you took a breath, taking Dean’s height in stride. “So, what? You show up at my doorstep and nearly scare me to death, for what?”

“I was wrong,” Dean swallowed, blinking slowly as tears piled against his eyelids. “I never should have left you the way i had. You were mourning Sam as well, and I was a coward for leaving you. I never once stopped thinking about you. I never once let you out of my mind. Lisa knew it, Ben knew it.’

“I’m not forgiving you, Dean.” you held your ground, even as you had to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. “How could I forgive you? Do you know what the hell I’ve been through? You weren’t the only one to lose a brother, you know? Sam was my family as well.”

He opened his mouth, only for you to cut him off.

“It’s been fourteen months, Dean—fourteen long, terrible months. I celebrated Sam’s birthday without you. I celebrated your birthday without you. Crowley was the only one to check with me. Do you know he saved me from death on numerous occasions? That could have been you.”

He looked utterly defeated at the mention of the birthday celebrations. He could only imagine you singing to yourself with some cheap cake and a gas station lighter, wishing for the family you once held as you blew out the candles.

“Dean, I don’t know whether to hit you, kiss you, or put a bullet in you.” you scowled, pushing past him to walk over to the bathroom to wash your face. Leaving the door open, you heard Dean shuffle around Crowley to get to you again. 

“I can’t leave you, not again. Never again,” he watched your reflection as you grabbed for a hand towel and wiped the water from your face. 

Glaring at him momentarily, you sighed heavily before turning around and leaning against the counter. “Crowley will kill me for this. But I can’t help but think that I’m still in love with you. We can talk more about this in the morning. I had a long few weeks, and I’m absolutely exhausted.” 

Eagerly, Dean followed you out of the bathroom, barely noticing Crowley’s absence as he tucked you into the bed before he climbed in himself.

--

**totally up for a part three IF people want it. So please, please, please, if you enjoyed this reblog this & leave comments.

[lyraoftheevergreens]

More To Love

Daemon Targaryen x Plus-size Wife

Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Smut! Minors do not engage! NSFW

Summary: His wife y/n Stark is beginning to feel insecure as she continues to gain wait with each child she bares him. He is the only one who can comfort his sobbing wife when they are forced to return to Kings Landing for a name day celebration for the princess.

Authors note: I suck at summaries. I wish I could just put “Daemon fucks the sad away. Like the good husband he is.” From one big girl to the next I hope you all enjoy this <3

Warnings: smutty smut smut, oral female receiving, p in v, Self degradation, Minor spelling and grammar errors. Semi edited

Word count: 2,280

Daemon Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, wielder of dark sister, rider of Caraxes, father to Baelon II, Aenar, Naerys, Aelor, Rhaena and Elaena. Husband to Y/n Stark. He married you when his brother ascended the throne, while it was no secret your family, house Stark, supported Rhaenys is claim to the throne. Your father had you marry Daemon to hopefully stop any retribution from there vote against Viserys. While your marriage was one of political duty it didn’t stop you from loving him nor he loving you. You left the north to join him in Kings landing, where you were to wed. You were just as wild as him, nothing was ever gonna stop him from falling in love with you. You had the distinct Stark characteristics of long brown hair and grey eyes. He could stare into your eyes for the rest of his life 8 years of marriage and already the two of you had 6 children and possibly another on the way. The two of you had decided it would be better to raise your children at Dragonstone without the input of others after having your first two, as well as the murmurs and rumors. You received much judgement for choosing to nurse your children rather than a wet nurse do it. It also didn’t help that you allowed your children to share the bed with you Daemon. People of the court were constantly murmuring about your family and they way you and Daemon are raising your children. They thought it repulsive that your children sleep in marital bed. It’s not as if you perform marital acts with your children present, they were far from any of that when it occurred. Then you became pregnant with Naerys, once you began to show the murmuring became worse. “How could they let there children sleep in such filth, now this child will have to sleep in it to.” “And the king allows this to happen in his castle.” “Have you heard, the dress makers had to make her new gowns again.” “How could the prince lay with someone so large.” “I suppose he has no problem lying with someone of her size when he lay with whores.” “I would not be surprised should he return to the pleasure houses, one could only lay with cattle for so long.”

Once you told Daemon what you had heard the two of you were gone to Dragonstone taking all your belongings and staff and you left. You and Daemon made sure the lust for one another would never die as you two continued to grow your family. Taking you on caraxes to Essos, leaving your children in the care of their maids. Or simply slipping into other bed chambers of the castle (empty ones, you two weren’t one to fuck on other people’s beds), or the beaches of Dragonstone to spend alone time together.

The king called for a feast to celebrate Rheanyra’s 13th name day. Daemon decided to leave for Kings Landing on Caraxes to ensure your rooms were prepared in time for your arrival with the children. Naerys is the oldest of your girls and most stubborn, like her father, refused to go on the ship with you and her siblings. Both you and Dameon felt it wasn’t a good idea for a child of only 5 years to fly on her own on via dragon back. Ultimately you and Daemon decided to allow her to fly with him on Caraxes. You knew your husband would protect your daughter with his entire life. He strapped her to him to ensure if she fell asleep she was still safe with him. He made sure to help you and the children on to the ship and to see you all off before leaving himself with Naerys. Your children loved seeing there father leave on Caraxes, they flew a bit to close to the ship causing it to rock knocking your boys to the floor, they laid there for a moment causing you to laugh as well as you held on to the knight your husband had assigned to you for the trip, Ser Ander.

Once arrived at the Kings Landing port you were met with your husband and daughter. Your daughter ran into your arms and told you how amazing flying on Caraxes was. Your boys told their father how much they enjoyed Caraxes rocking the ship and how they can’t wait for there dragons to be able to rock ships. You all left in a carriage to the Red Keep, and once arrived you were greated by Viserys, Aemma and Rhaenyra.

“Y/n, we are so glad you and the children have arrived safely.” Greated Viserys with a smile as he hugged you.

“Thank you your grace, we thank you for your invitation.”

“Please Y/n, you are my good sister, call me Viserys.”

“I will try my best, Viserys.”

“Aemma, how are you?”

“I’m quite lovely. Your self?” She asked as she rubbed her bump, you hadn’t known she was with child again.

“Lovely as well. Rhaenyra, how have you been as of late? Are you excited for the celebration?”

“I am, thank you.”

The exchange between Rhaenyra, Aemma and you felt strange in whole. You feel them judge you from their looks. You had put on a considerable amount of weight from the last time you were in kings landing and you could tell they judged you for it. While Aemma had been with child just as many times as you, you had the weight gain to show for it as she did not.

“Come let me show you to our rooms.” Daemon must have felt your unease as he thankfully interrupts the awkward exchange. The twins were to sleep with you and Daemon and the boys and Naerys in the chambers next yours and Dameon’s. Once alone you began to speak freely to Daemon.

“She’s with child once more? Poor Aemma, I pray that this babe is healthy.”

“Yes it’s quite tragic. I remember the two of you always being with child around the same time.”

“Yes, and that’s why it saddens me because we have 5 beautiful children they have one.”

“I know my dear-“ Daemon was interrupted by your children running in. Your youngest boy running behind being only 3 years of age.

“Kepa! Look they have it here! Aenar show him!” With that your second son hands his father his favorite Valyrian dragon book. All your children loved when Daemon would read to them.

“Yes there are plenty of books, perhaps we can go to the library on the morrow.”

“Yes!” Your children were so excited. They loved their father so much and it helped that he was a good one at that. Always reading to them, taking them to tend to there dragons and teaching them how to wield a sword (wooden sword).

The day had turned to night and you were nursing both twins when your husband had entered the room after seeing your other children to bed. “They are all asleep.”

“Oh good, thank you my love.” You thanked your husband and he walked over and kissed your forehead before sitting in the chair across from where you sat on the bed. He watched as you nursed his children and something began to stir inside him. Once done he took one babe and you the other and placed them in the children’s bed the maids had put in the room for the twins to sleep with you and Daemon. You had both drifted off the sleep, your head on Daemons chest and his arm around your shoulders holding you to him.

You woke the next morning feeling bloated and nauseous. The fact that none of your clothes were fitting quite right didn’t help either. You had not bled for two moon cycles now. A part of you suspected you were with child once more but you wanted to believe it wasn’t true. Daemon had entered the room after taking the boys and Naerys to the training yard, finding you sat on the floor crying.

“What has happened ñuhon dōna ābrazȳrys?”

(My sweet wife)

“Daemon.” You choked out in between sobs. He went to the floor with you holding you into his chest. “I’m with child. Again.”

“This is amazing!” Daemon said kissing your forehead.

“Tis not. I’m going to get wider, my skin will have more marks.”

“Yes but you always get smaller again. And I have scars on my body do you not love me?”

“Of course I love you, but your scars are from battle, mine are from the stretching of my skin.”

“Your skin that covers your body. Your body that grows our babes. Our children.”

“Daemon admit it. I do not get smaller, with each babe I birth I do not shrink back down in size. I will never be the size I was when we wed.”

“That is perfect for me. 6 children you have given me, soon 8-“

“There are no more twins growing in my womb.”

“We will see.” He says with a smirk. “I do not care for your size. Just means there is more to love. You are my wife, my wolf, my life and I love you. I love the marks on your skin, it’s proof that you birth my heirs, my children.”

“My marks can be hidden with gowns Daemon. With each child I birth I go up in size. I have birthed 6 children, soon to be 7 and I’m already in need of larger garments. I am huge, I’m ugly.” You sat on the floor crying into your husband’s chest when he speaks up. “I will not have you talking about my wife like this.” He picks you up with ease from the floor and toss you on to the bed. “Daemon!” You shout his name. “No, this is my wife you are discussing. Mother to my children. I will not have you slander her so.” He rips your night shift off you and you lay there bare before him. He is now on top of you and you begin to cover your growing breast when he grabs your wrist and pins them above your head, he holds them there with one hand. He kisses the palms of your hands,” these hands care for our children, they care for me, massaging parts of my aching muscles.” Kissing down both your arms. “These arms hold and comfort our children. They wrap around me at night with love, and sometimes pleasure.” He then takes one of your breast in his mouth, flicks the bud of your breast with his tongue while his free hand massages the other, he then repeats the same releasing you from his mouth to say,” these breast that kept and continue to keep our babes fed, these breast that I worship so, I thank the gods every time they grow larger.” He covers your growing abdomen in kisses,” this, this is where our babes grow, you keep them safe inside you. Our proof of the love we have for each other, proof of my love for you in the children we create.” He lowers his head between your legs and flicks your pearl with his tongue. He licks a big stripe up your core as he stays between your legs for quite sometime your a moaning mess when he releases you,” this cunt that squeezes my cock tight, that births our children,” he kisses down your legs, his hands now gripping your thighs, “these I love to hold apart while I have you screaming with pleasure while I devour you, to prevent you from squeezing my head with them. Your legs though that run to our children at the first cry. I love every part of you, small or big, you are my wife and I will worship every part of you.” With that he brings his mouth back to your pearl and uses his fingers to thrust in and out of you, his free hand massaging your breast. “Daemon please.”

“Please what my sweet wife.”

“Your cock, please.”

“As you wish ābrazȳrys.” With in second Daemons fingers were replaced with his thick, hard member thrusting into you at a pace that had you seeing stars, you moaned in pleasure as he fucked into you. “Keep moaning my sweet girl, let the whole castle know your husband makes you feel this good. Let them know how I worship you so.”

“Yes, Yes! Daemon.” You screamed and moaned for him, giving yourself away to the pleasure your husband gave you.

“Yes my dear, release your self on my cock, my good girl.” With that you were a moaning screaming mess as you reached your release, your nails clawed at his back, as you wiggled under him in pleasure, he fucked you through your release eventually reaching his own from feeling your cunt flutter around his cock. He growled into your shoulder as his seed filled you. He pulled out of you after a moment and layed next to you pulling you into him. His hand grabbing your ass and striking his palm to it,”I almost forget, this,” he grabbed,”this I absolutely love, I love to feel my stones smack against it as I fuck your sweet cunt. Or when I take you from behind I get to watch it shake as I pound into you.”

“Daemon!”

“What! It’s true! I love every part of you y/n. You are my wife, no matter your size i will worship you till I draw my last breath.

“I love you too.” You kiss his chest and he speaks once more. “Truly I thank the gods everyday for your growing tits and ass. I suppose it’s true what they say, you don’t know that something is missing from your life until you have it.”

“I assume in this case it’s tits and ass?”

“Not just any, your tits and ass my sweet wife.”

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor (Series Masterlist)

Status: Complete!

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

Summary: You ask (beg) your best friend, Henry to donate--sperm.

A/N: Individual warnings will be written for each chapter.

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

Part 1 Part 1.5: Not Dad Enough

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Drabbles:

They finally tell Hank's family

Feather Toy Fights - A glimpse of how Kal and the cats getting along

IG Official - You and Hank make your relationship IG official

Dirty Dancing - You found Hank's dancer doppleganger

Superman - Your kids find out that their father played Superman.

[ash5monster01]

Not Just The Books

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, no use of Y/N, smut, nudity, language, fluff, friends to lovers, minors DNI.

Summary: Steve catches you reading a smutty book and before the embarrassment can settle in you realize he is more interested in doing the stuff in the book with you.

word count: 3.5k

Masterlist

It was not uncommon for you and Steve to be able to sit in silence comfortably. Sometimes having the presence of a friend while you did different things was so much better than being alone. So you both sat comfortably in his living room, you in the easy chair, lamp on to illuminate your book, and him in the center of the couch, slumped down, as he watched whatever was on TV. The sound didn’t bother you as you read, you normally were in another world, not noticing the things around you. So even though Steve had the TV blaring with the hearing of a Grandpa, you didn’t even mind, the TV could explode and you wouldn’t notice. Thing was Steve always noticed you, even if his favorite movie was on TV.

So when he spotted you uncrossing your legs it peaked his interest. You still hadn’t torn your eyes from the book to see he had noticed your movement. Steve had almost turned away until he saw you had pressed your legs together, your teeth capturing your bottom lip. His heart accelerated slightly because he knew that kind of movement. He had caused many of girls that kind of movement, so when you started to shift in your seat, your breaths coming out in smaller pants he realized there was something more to the book you had tightly gripped in your hands. You still didn’t even flinch as Steve stood and walked over to you, in fact you couldn’t even tear your eyes from the page as he quite literally did it for you.

“Steve!” you screeched and he quickly noticed how dilated your eyes were, how fast your chest rose with each breath. You looked like a woman starved.

“Since when do books make you act like that” Steve teased, eyebrows raised highly and you felt the embarrassment burn through you.

“Please give me my book back” you begged, hand out, waiting for him to hand it over.

“You know, normally I would” and the panic started to set in as he turned the book towards himself. Steve never attempted to read your books. Why now?

“Please Steve!” you we’re quick, lunging towards him, but he was quicker. Your voice was rough, all worked up, and no one had even touched you.

“It’s always Steve you need to read more, when was the last time you opened a book, and now you don’t want me too?” he knew he was getting under your skin and you just prayed he woundn't read the page you were on. If there was some higher power out there they would keep him from reading that page right now.

“Just not that book, I was enjoying it” even Steve could hear how uncomfortable you sounded as you said it. It was as if you were trying to get him to cough it up without knowing what was so interesting about it.

“Well, I want to see what’s so good” and just like that his eyes dipped down and you launched for him. Yet Steve escaped your grasp, running across the room, and leaping onto the couch where he stood. Book now face open and you got to watch him read it in real time, like he was on a stage.

Claire panted out heavy breaths, skin on fire everywhere he left a wet love bite and blew on it. She tried to steady her breathing but as his wet kisses trailed down her stomach, finishing on the waist band of her shorts, she couldn’t quite seem to stop the breaths that came out.

Slowly his fingers curled into her waistband and she lifted her hips to make it easier, a silent conformation that what he was doing was okay. As the cool air of the bedroom hit her dripping core she couldn’t help but whimper over the thought of him burying himself between her folds.

“So perfect” he spoke, his tongue darting out to take a small taste. “And sweet”

Then just like that he was devouring her completely. So fast her back arched without her knowledge, pressing into him as he deliciously lapped up everything he could. Eating her out better than anyone ever had, and as his nose nudged against her clit she couldn’t help but begin to feel the coil tighten in her stomach. He had barely done anything and she was already ready to cum.

“Holy shit” Steve muttered, dropping his arms that held the book as he looked down at you from the couch. Very much unable to meet his eyes as he realized exactly what you were reading.

“Can I have my book back now?” you nervously asked, arm rubbing up and down your other one. Steve jumped back down to the ground. Trying to regain your gaze.

“Want to explain this to me?” he asked, holding it over and you quickly snatched it back.

“Not particularly” you now hyper aware of exactly how alone the two of you were right now.

“You like to read dirty books” he chuckled like a little kid and finally you dared to glance up at him only to see a smug look on his face, like he obtained information he was going to hold over your head for years to come.

“Most girls do Steve” you hissed attempting to hit him with the book but he quickly stopped you, his head coming to a shake.

“Whatever you say, it just looked like you were really enjoying it. I’d never seen you so…” he paused, trying to think of a word, and your heart accelerated. Thumping quickly against your ribs and you prayed he couldn’t hear it. “Worked up”

You sucked in a sharp breath as he said it and the air around you turned heavy. This had gone from embarrassing to mortifying because not only did you get caught reading about sex but you got caught for it turning you on. Steve had noticed you were turned on and now you wished he didn’t notice you even existed. “Can we not talk about this, I was acting like I always do”

“That’s a lie, you wouldn’t move while reading even if a tornado came through here but you couldn’t even sit still. You were needy and I know it because I’ve seen it a hundred times” now you were red as a fire truck and Steve was enjoying this way too much. Yet he was also getting turned on which he shouldn’t have because it’s you. His longest and oldest friend, the one he can be completely comfortable with but now he wanted to know exactly how wet you were from that stupid book and he wanted to see if he could get you wetter.

“Ah yes, King Steve, ruler of sex. Can’t take a hint but knows when a girl is turned on” you told him sarcastically, annoyed he insisted on embarrassing you further.

“So you admit to being turned on?” he said with a smirk and you rolled your eyes with a groan.

“My God give it a break, yes I was turned on, is that what you want to hear?” you asked him and as you let out heavy breaths and waited for him to give a sarcastic answer it never came. Instead he stared you down, like you admitting this suddenly made you a four course meal. Steve had never looked at you like this and now you were nervous all over again but about an entirely different thing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you nervously asked, attempting to back away from him because now the foot and half between you two was way too close.

“I’m not doing anything” he told you, stepping towards you to shorten the distance again and you wished he hadn’t of done it because now Steve was replacing the guy in the book for you.

“Yes you are, you’re looking at me like you want to kiss me” you said, trying to make it sound like a joke but even to you is sounded nervous. Steve just tilted his head, eyeing you up and down completely.

“It looks like that because I do want to kiss you” how was he so comfortable talking to you like this? You had never crossed this line before and now you wanted him to touch you and stay away all at the same time. “So can I kiss you?”

“I uh, I I..-“ you stammered, unsure how you went from peacefully ignoring each other to the edge of the line. If you say yes you would give him a reason to cross it and that was a lot of responsibility for a person.

“I need an answer sweetheart, because I really really want to kiss you” he spoke slowly and you swallowed hard, still turned on from the book and now a little turned on by him.

“Uh yeah, I-I guess” you told him and a grin cracked across his face and before you could say anything more his hands were on your face and drawing your lips near his own. He waited a minute before pressing them to yours, whether is was hesitant or savory you weren’t sure. But after a steady breath he pressed against you, mouth hot and slotting between your own lips perfectly. He was a good kisser but you already knew that.

It took only seconds for it to get heated, his hands tugging lightly at your hair and tongue grazing your lip. You parted in an instant, letting his tongue tangle with your own and then it was over. He had you backing up all the way to wall, your back thumping against it, and his knee wedging between your legs. Against your better judgement you started to grind against it, unable to stop your self considering how worked up you had been. “Getting yourself so turned on without any release, seems like torture sweetheart”

“There was going to be release, later, when I was alone” and your response had Steve’s head tipping back as he let out a groan.

“Still unfair, why don’t you let me take care of you?” Steve coaxed and you involuntarily ground down on his leg, knowing release was right around the corner if you just let him. Was it worth it though? To cross this line just for some sweet release? For a touch that could unwind you more than your own hands could? You knew Steve was a good lay, had been legend among the Hawkins High halls because of it. Should you even find out for yourself with risk of ruining the friendship? Fuck it.

You didn’t even have to answer based on the way your lips smashed back into his own. He met your pace in the blink of an eye and you couldn’t keep yourself from pulling at the hem of his shirt, trying to lift it above his head. Even needier at the sight of his bare torso you began to ride his leg like your life depended on it. A deep chuckle left his throat as his hands dug in the doughy flesh of your hips, slowing your movements against him. He wanted to take his sweet time with you and if he went any slower you were going to be a whining mess.

“What do you need baby?” he asked against your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive spot there and you were in no position to care that he probably gave you a crimson hickey.

“Take off my shirt” you told him with a groan, keening as he licked the sore spot of your neck. He obeyed, removing the baggy T-shirt you had worn over here just to be met with the sight that you had forgone a bra. You watched as his eyes turned almost black at the sight of you, swallowing thickly before cupping his hands around both your breasts. The minute he began to knead the flesh your head was hitting back against the wall, fighting from grinding on his leg again. Something about Steve needily groping your chest ignited a fire within you and you had been doing good until your nipple was sucked into his warm mouth and involuntarily you bucked your hips on his leg so hard you felt your hips bones hit his own.

"Such a needy girl" he teased before moving to suck on your other breast. As much as his words turned you on you still found yourself needing to feel more in control. Steve would be too cocky knowing he got you to so desperately fall apart like this. So in a moment of courage you took some intiative. With his eyes still closed, mouth littering your breast with hickeys, you dropped your hand down and grasped his hard on through his sweats. You felt the squeak from his throat on your breast as you began to stroke him through his pants and just as the girls had said in highschol, Steve was intimidatingly big.

“Looks like the book turned more than just me on” you teased, a sly smile on your face and Steve removed his mouth from your breast, tongue grazing up the skin of you neck till he was face to face.

“That’s not the book, that’s you” he told you and these words gave you the rush of confidence you needed for your fingers to slip below his waist band and grasp his cock right at the base. He hissed at the feeling of your cool fingers and the attention you were giving him.

“Stevie is needy too, what does he need?” you hummed, eyes wide and innocently looking up at him. He squeezed his own eyes shut as you slowly stroked him, prepared to ease him out of his pants.

“Baby this is about you” he told you, trying his best to back away but you had a grip on him that he was enjoying way too much.

“I know, that’s why I want to do this” and you were spinning both of you around, pressing him against the wall he previously had you caged in. He groaned as you dropped to your knees, breasts swinging as you finally pulled his sweat pants down. His length stared you down but he looked delicious as ever. If someone had ever suggested you’d be sucking your best friends cock tonight you would’ve told them they were lying but now here you were, taking him into your mouth. You hummed at the saltiness of his skin, tongue swirling around his swollen tip. He grabbed your hair without even realizing, trying to ease you to take more of him. Slacking your jaw you allowed him to glide in and out of your warm mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat, humming against him which made him writhe against the wall.

“Okay, stop I’m going to cum” he pulled you off of him, arms easing under your own and lifting you to your feet as if you weighed nothing. You smiled deviously at him, chin slick with spit and he didn’t waste two seconds before pulling you into a deep kiss. “It’s my turn to get a taste now”

He was mumbling against your lips, arms wrapped around you as he carried you over to the couch he had been watching TV on. Once he had you laid gently across it he was removing his own pants and dropping to his knees to remove yours. He made sure to take his sweet time, pulling the soft material down your legs, memorizing the cream color of the lace panties that had been soaked against your mound. You tried not to whine out as he touched you everywhere but there. You were on the verge of begging until he finally moved to pull the cream fabric off of you. You went to close your legs but his arm stopped you, keeping you wide open for him.

“So perfect” he said and you groaned out.

“Don’t tease” and Steve knew you meant both about the book and about how he was taking care of you. So he just grinned before dipping down and licking a long stripe through your folds.

“And sweet” and you didn’t have any time to yell at him because he was devouring you whole. Your stomach jumped as he sucked harshly at your clit, back arching and pressing your pussy straight into his face. His hands gripped the back of your thighs, more than likely leaving bruised finger prints but you hoped they did. You wanted to remember the mind numbing head Steve Harrington gave you. You almost didn’t expect him to be so good at eating you out. You should’ve thought because your heels were digging into his back, hands tugging harshly as his curls, and you were moaning unapologetically because he was just that good. You could feel the coil begin to tighten in your stomach and you were grinding against his tongue, movements getting faster indicating you were right there. It wasn’t until his lips wrapped around your clit did you find yourself begin to snap, shaking as your body seemed to leave earth and come back to you all at once.

“Hope you’ve got another one in you baby” he cooed, kissing up your stomach and breasts. He finally met your mouth and even though you were already half worn out you found yourself gripping his cock in your hand again. He winced due to holding his own orgasm off and your thumb gently rolled over his tip.

“Show me what you’ve got Harrington” you were telling him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before sucking on his neck. Steve hoped you were leaving your mark and soon enough you were lining him up between your legs. You shuttered as he ran himself through your slick.

He couldn’t wait any longer and finally he was pushing himself in you, bottoming out in seconds as you fully sucked him in. He knew not to move as your mouth froze against his neck and he moved to kiss your lips, an apology and promise that it would stop hurting soon. He was in his own pain of needed relief until your hand was grazing down his bare back.

“Please move, I’m begging you” and he didn’t need to be told twice as he pulled back and slammed into you again. You moaned loudly and he quickly found his pace, moving in and out of you as best he could. Swiftly you grabbed his hands, placing them on your breasts which he didn’t hesitate to grip. He used them for balance as he slammed in and out you, massaging them and loving them as best he could. The way you were reacting made him realize this was what turned you on most, attention to your breasts. Needing to have his release soon he dipped down, removing one hand to suck at your nipple as hard as he could, hips still slamming into you. The wet heat of his mouth had you keening in seconds and you gasped out, trying your best not to yell.

“I’m coming Steve, fuck cum in me please” you begged and he almost came right there as he heard those words. In moments you were pulsating around him, clenching tightly and milking him for all he was worth. The tightness of you made him follow right after, thick ropes shooting into you. You panted heavily as you gripped his shoulders, indicating him not to move.

“I want you inside of me a little longer” you told him and he slowly eased down onto you, trying his best not to move and overstimulate you.

“Where the fuck did this behavior come from?” he asked, pressing gentle kisses to the hickeys he had littered your breasts with. He was trying his best not to get hard over the fact he was still inside of you.

“I’ve always been like this Steve” you told him, feeling him twitch inside you.

“This dirty, why haven’t we been fucking sooner?” he chuckled, mouth kissing your chin and you rolled your eyes.

“Because I don’t fuck around Steve, and I always told myself that if we did this it had to be real” and the weight of your words hit him with surprise. Yet it wasn’t the kind of surprise you had expected.

“You mean to tell me you liked me this whole time too? Then what the fuck have we been waiting for?” he groaned out and your eyes widened as you reached for him.

“You like me too?” you hopefully asked and he smiled, lifting to press his mouth to your own. You winced as he slipped out of you, no doubt a mess all over the couch that now had to be cleaned.

“Hell I love you, I’ve always loved you” he told you after a beat and you smiled up at him, realizing you should’ve read dirty books around him sooner.

“We’ll in that case, let’s do this again”

For you to enjoy <3: @jjmaybankswifes-blog @halflifejess

[lainiespicewrites]

Coach Syverson

Okay, Y'all I'm trying something new and posting one of my Henry Cavill Character fics. I haven't posted a fanfic in so long it's gonna be a short story probably only a two-parter maybe 3. Let me know what you think! I loved writing this. I think it's so cute!!!!

Warnings: None for Part 1 :) Definitely will be smut in part 2!

High school football coach Sy and school guidance counselor OFC

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

I was locked in a trance,  typing in progress notes from an early morning meeting I’d just finished with a student.  The sounds of the office, which was just coming to life outside my door, fuelled me. I almost never came in this early. But, one of my seniors was having a crisis and this was the only time we could work into her busy schedule. It’s gonna break my heart when that girl graduates this year. I get so attached to the students. I can’t help working as a school counselor. It's hard not to.  

“You’re in early,” The voice coming from the doorway made me jump. He chuckled softly.  “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”  After a brief heart attack, I finally looked up. I smiled when my eyes met his. 

“No, it’s okay, I just didn’t see you! Good morning Coach, What can I do for you?” His soft blue eyes held my gaze, before shooting me a gentle smile. Coach Syverson and I had become good friends since he started working at the school a little over a year ago. Like many good high school football coaches, they made a history teaching spot for him. Unlike others, he’s actually a great teacher! 

I met Logan Syverson for the first time in a staff meeting. Our principal introduced him at the beginning of the meeting going on and on about all the improvements he would bring to our team and our community. He certainly looked like a football player. The guy was huge! Tall, large muscles, and a full beard. His eyes were a deep blue. He had a winning smile and a southern accent. The English department was drooling. I hated him immediately. 

I figured he was just going to be a self absorbed prick like the last coach. who only cared about the popular students, peaked in high school, and got fired because he got a little too close to one of the cheerleaders. We were not at all sorry to see him go. Well, those of us with half a brain weren’t anyway. Some of the community and staff were more worried about the football program. But I digress. 

I was even more annoyed with him when I caught him falling asleep during the same meeting 30 minutes later when we were discussing the budget for new textbooks. I’m not exactly sure what came over me but I kicked him under the table. He was immediately alert. I expected him to glare at me. Or maybe even smirk. But the look on his face could only be described as apologetic. He quickly caught up to me when we were leaving the meeting. “Some first impression I made, huh?” When I didn’t immediately respond he added. “I swear I’m not some asshole that doesn’t care about education, that’s not like me, just didn’t sleep much last night. I had to take my dog to the emergency vet, she broke her leg in the woods late in the evening and didn’t get back until late and…”

“Is she okay?” I asked quickly. He looked completely dumbfounded.

“Uhm what?” He asked, clearly confused. I smiled sympathetically. I did exactly what I told my students not to do and judged him too quickly and I felt like an ass about it. 

“You’re dog, is she okay?” He smiled softly and nodded. 

“Yeah, Yeah she is. They got her all wrapped up and in a cast, poor pup, but she’ll be alright.” There was a brief pause and then. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“The students know me as Miss Plummer, but it’s Alayna. And um.. Sorry I kicked you. I don’t  know why I did that.” I smiled sheepishly. 

“Alayna,” He repeated. And then chuckled and squeezed my shoulder “No need to apologize, I’m glad you did. That would’ve been embarrassing. Falling asleep in my first staff meeting doesn’t really look good. Thanks for saving my ass back there!”

 We were fast friends from that point on!

Sy pushed off the door frame he’d been leaning against and walked into my office. “Brought ya coffee, I was gonna sneak in and leave it on your desk but I guess it’s you surprising me this morning,” He said, setting the cup from our local coffee shop down on my desk. 

“That’s sweet of you!” I took a sip and almost choked. I expected just plain black coffee. He wasn’t the kind of guy to order fancy coffee. But this was actually my coffee order. “How did you know my coffee order?” He had a big grin on his face now. 

“I remembered it from that morning when we ran into each other in line a few weeks ago. Thought I’d be nice and bring my work wife some coffee since I was there.” He shrugged. He really was such a sweetheart. He looked tough and scary. I know he did. When he and a few of the other teachers in the history hall gathered between classes they looked intimidating. At least from a student's perspective.I knew them all well though. I’ve talked with students failing his class because they wouldn’t ask questions. When I asked why, they said they were nervous. But he was certainly no one to be afraid of. Yes, he could yell, but he saved that for the football field. The man was a damn teddy bear. 

“Thank you!” I smiled. I quickly looked out into the guidance office to make sure there were no students around. “But I know you didn’t walk all the way down here just to bring me coffee for the hell of it. You’re buttering me up for something. What do you need, Logan?” He laughed and shook his head plopping down on the edge of my desk.

“You know me too well, sugar. Two things!” He said. I rolled my eyes. “Hey now young lady, don’t get an attitude with me I’m not asking you to give up a kidney!” I hid my smirk behind a sip of coffee and nodded at him to continue.  “First, Can you look up Ty’s grades for me just at some point by the end of the day. He came into my office this morning and was all nervous about his algebra grade, swearing up and down it’s because he failed one quiz. But, I’m pretty sure,” I cut him off. 

“He’s not turning in his homework because he just started dating Caitlyn and they’ve been staying up texting all night.” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Uh, Yeah, How’d you know?”

“Caitlyn stopped in to see me this morning and we had a chat about it, amongst other things. I’ll double check but I’m sure you’re right. I’ll email it to you so you can have a chat with him. I was going to call him in  today but he listens better to you. When you talked about being a veteran and your time in Iraq at the Labor Day assembly, I think that really struck something with him. He looks up to you.” his eyes locked with mine and he smiled softly placing his hand over mine on the desk just for a second. 

“Thank you for saying that,” He said before moving his hand and leaning on the desk again. I just smiled. 

“What’s the other thing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because you could’ve just sent me that in an email.” He smirked. And his nose crinkled a little. Oh no. 

“So our first away game is tomorrow night,”

“I know,” 

“And you’re a big football fan, and you love those boys don’t you?” He was deflecting

“What do you want, Sy?” I asked again. He let out a long breath. 

“Carol was supposed to be a student chaperone for the student fans buuuttt well, you heard her kid is really sick? I need you to come chaperone. Actually. I kinda already said you would.” He quickly stood up from my desk and backed up to the other side, like he was afraid I’d hit him. 

I just leaned back in my chair and groaned, 

“ugh Sy! What if I had plans?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. He chuckled 

“You don’t!” I scoffed 

“You don’t know that?” I retorted. He smirked 

“Yeah, what big plans do you have for Friday night?” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. I sighed. 

“Okay I don’t! But I could’ve!” I argued. “Why, didn’t you ask one of the other guys? Like Nick or I don’t know Mike?” I asked. 

“Nick’s an assistant coach, he’ll already be there. And we both know as much as Mike loves teaching…he does not want to spend his Friday night with the kids and at a football game making sure there’s no funny business. And you love the kids.” He was pleading now. Practically giving me puppy dog eyes. “And…Maybe I want you there,” He winked playfully. I looked down and jiggled the mouse on my computer to hide my blush. 

Jessica, who works the front desk of the guidance office swears he flirts with me. But I know he’s not. We’re friends. Good friends. We tease each other to make work a little more fun at best. But that's all it is. A man like Logan Syverson would never look twice at a girl like me. He’s fit and strong and tall and handsome. I’m pretty but I’m short and round and a little too quirky for my own good. Girls like me only get men like him in the movies. And I’m not stupid enough to believe otherwise.  Moment’s like these though. I do wonder a little. But I don’t let my thoughts wander too far. 

“Oh yeah?” I joke, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I mean maybe you’re our good luck charm. You’ve been at all our home games this year and we haven’t lost a game.” He said with a cheeky smile. 

“We’ve only had two Sy.” I say matter of fact. He just shakes his head. 

“That doesn’t mean you’re not good luck, but okay,” He held his hands up in defeat. “If you don’t want to do it I’ll figure something out. I messed up and didn’t ask you first. I’ll tell the boys their favorite guidance counselor doesn’t want to come support them. It’ll break their little hearts sugar but I’m sure they’ll find,” He pauses and lets out an exaggerated sigh “Some way to pull through and play a good game of football.” He frowned, shaking his head. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows looking straight at him. 

“Are you done?” I deadpanned. He snickered softly and nodded. “Fine, I’ll go,” He smiled and walked over squeezing my shoulder. 

“You’re the best! It’s supposed to be chilly! Wear a sweater! And Free coffee,on me all night! I promise,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah okay,” I chuckled.

“Seriously, I owe you sugar! I’m happy you’ll be there, I better get goin, class starts soon and I probably shouldn’t be late being that I’m the teacher,” He chuckled. 

“Get out of my office Logan!” I laughed. He smiled. 

“You’re the best!” He said one more time before finally walking out of my office. I shook my head and tapped at the keys on my keyboard to wake up my computer. I felt eyes on me and looked up to find Jessica standing in my doorway. 

“Don’t start!” I warned her. 

“Please, sugar. I really want you there!” she mocked. “He knows your coffee order, Alayna. How long are you going to ignore what’s right in front of you?” she asked exasperated. 

“It’s not like that Jess, He was just being sweet because he needed the help.” I said.

“Like you wouldn’t have done it anyway. You were trying to play coy but we both know you would have done it anyway.” She laughed. I blushed. And threw an eraser at her. 

“Get back to work!” She laughed. 

“Whatever you say… Sugar!” I snorted and we both chuckled for a minute. “I mean it Alayna, He’ll be kinda busy during the game and yes you’ll be keeping an eye on the students but take the opportunity to flirt back, he likes you, I’m not wrong!” She turned and walked back to her desk before I had a chance to say anything. And before I could spend any more time thinking about it my email notifications went off pulling me back into my work. 

The rest of my work day went by in a blur. I had meeting after meeting with students. My seniors were in panic mode, my juniors have early onset senioritis, and the freshman and sophomores came into vent about the daily woes of high school drama. Oh to be 16 again. 

With a full schedule of meetings I barely had time to eat lunch even in my office. When my phone lit up with a group text from two of my girlfriends asking about our weekly Thursday night dinner. I was quick to respond. 

(I’ll be there!) I sent the text, before packing up my desk for the evening. It had been a late night for me so it was just past 5. I didn’t bother going home first to change into something more casual. They were used to the office style by now. I felt my shoulders relax a little as I slipped into the booth next to skyler.

“Hey!” she said cheerfully, slowly pushing the glass of white wine they’d ordered for me closer. 

“You know me so well!” I smiled at her. 

“Long day?” Hayley asked from across the table, she picked up a tortilla chip and filled it with queso. I shrugged. 

“Not long in the sense that it was rough, just busy,” Skyler nodded and took a sip for her wine glass. 

“I feel that. I tried to get some school work done while the kids were down for a nap.” She runs an in-home daycare. She adores kids. But she’s also going back to school for a degree, Pediatric nursing. She’s a saint. I don’t know how she does it. 

“I commend you babe. The school is asking me to take classes, they want someone to take on the position as school psychologist. They’ve been trying to nudge me toward it the past couple of weeks. It’d be a raise but, that on top of the current workload? I don’t wanna drown myself ya know?”

“I totally get it, it’s not easy! But you should think about it. You’ve talked about it before! At least consider it.” Skyler said. 

“She’s got a point dude,” Hayley added. “Look at you guys moving up in the world while I’m stuck with an art block. If I can’t think of anything, my online shop isn’t gonna take off and I’ll be stuck at the factory forever!” She groaned and downed a quarter of her strawberry lemonade that was no doubt spiked. I looked sideways, meeting Skyler's eye. She was giving me the same look. 

“You’re just getting started Hayley.” Skyler said. 

“I know but if..”

“Ah, no buts!” I cut her off “We have to allow ourselves room for mistakes and error when we’re trying something new. You will get there. Give yourself the love you give your art! I don’t wanna hear anymore of that self deprecating bullshit from you! The people love their ghost fish!” I demanded, trying to hide a chuckle. She could be so stubborn! She was starting an online etsy shop for commissions and spreading the word through social media. She had all these fun ideas. She was a great artist. But of course it’s not an easy way to make money. And right now, things were slow. She would get there though! I know she would!

“Have I ever told you how annoying it is when you use your psychoanalysis shit on us?” she deadpanned. 

“Everyday but I still do it anyway, and that’s why you love me!”  She just laughed.

“Yeah okay buddy. Enough work talk, I lifted a bunch of heavy shit all day and I don’t wanna think about it. I just wanna eat my chips and queso and get drunk with my friends!” She said and scooped another chip through the queso. I laughed and held up my glass

“Cheers to that! Although we all know damn well it’s a Thursday night and we all have to get up early and we drove separately so drunk is relative but yes!” Skyler laughed and clinked her glass with mine. 

“Let her have her moment. Cheers to drunk Thursday dinner!” she said. 

“Fuck yeah!” Hayley added and added her glass in with ours. We all took a drink and it was quiet for only a second. 

“So,” Skyler spoke immediately. “It’s been a week, what's new?”

“Nothing for me, just still considering the offer to go back to school. My job would pay for it. Love life is still dry and I’ve bought like 3 new spicy romance books on my kindle this week!” I said laughing. 

“Fun!” Skyler smiled. “Hayley?” She asked and directed her attention across the table. 

“I went to Target and spent an obscene amount of money on fall stuff. We have a fall party coming up at work that I volunteered to do face painting for, but that should be fun! Oh there’s this new movie that came out I want you guys to come see with me I was hoping maybe tomorrow night?” she said. I started to agree. But then remembered my conversation with Sy earlier. 

“Oh tomorrow night? I can’t. I’m actually busy!” They both looked at me with raised eyebrows. 

“Since when are you busy on a friday night?” Hayley asked. Here we go. This is gonna open a whole can of worms. If Jess was good at getting my hopes up about Sy, these two were going to have me down right delusional. 

“There’s a football game. I like to support the team.” I said. Skyler snickered and a smirk spread across Hayley’s face. 

“You like to support the coach you mean?” Skyler asked. 

“That’s not true! I’ve always been a football fan!” I defended myself. Hayley chuckled

“Sure but since when do you go to away games? Isn’t it like 2 hours away?” She raised an eyebrow. I sighed. 

“Coach stopped by the office this morning, one of the other teachers that was supposed to chaperone the roadies tomorrow canceled and since he and I are friends he volunteered me to do it. He buttered me up with free coffee this morning and practically begged me to go tomorrow and… I just can’t say no to him. Plus he said he really wants me to be there.”  I swirled my wine glass and stared down at it. I knew the looks they were giving me.  I heard skyler squeal.

“Shut up! He asked you to come because he wants to spend time with you! Watch, I bet next week he’ll ask you out!”  She bounced in her seat. 

“He does not! He’s going to be busy with the team! He’s not going to have time to talk to me or anything.” I said taking a big gulp of wine. 

“Why else would he say he wants you there though. And clearly you want him to hang out with you. Or you want to hang out with him. Or you wouldn’t have given up your precious Friday night in!” Hayley smirked. 

“Okay, so what if I do. He’s not into me like that. He’s just friendly. He’s southern, it's just how he is!” I said, trying to hold onto whatever sanity I had left. 

“Really?” Skyler said. “Does he bring anyone else coffee? Ask if he can eat lunch in anyone else’s office?” Hayley but it

“Didn’t he get you a christmas gift last year?” she asked. 

“He was my secret santa!” I stated. They both sighed. 

“ I don’t know why you can’t see it but he likes you!” Skyler said. I started to  object but Hayley cut me off. 

“You don’t have to believe us. Just pay attention to how he acts around you tomorrow and the next couple of days. He's trying to make a move. And I know you have your little no coworkers rule,”

“Because if…”

“Ah, I don’t wanna hear it! He’s clearly trying to get your attention. And you work in a public high school it's not like everyone else isn’t hooking up.” She stated. 

“She’s got a point, remember all the teachers when we were in school? And he’s not just trying to hook up. He’s playing the long game,” Skyler said. “All we’re saying is IF we’re right,”

“And we are,” Hayley added. Skyler gave her side eye but laughed. 

“If he asks you out you should give him a chance. We’ve never met him but it’s clear he’s so into you. And he seems like a great guy. Don’t push him away because something COULD go wrong.” she said. At that point the waiter came up and we placed our order. I also ordered another glass of wine. But a wine buzz wasn’t enough to convince me they were right. Sy couldn’t like me. I wasn’t his type. But it didn’t matter. I will go tomorrow and have a good time watching the game and cheering on the boys and watching Sy in his element. And when it’s all said and done I’ll ride home with the student section and maybe catch the chance to say goodbye to my friend before we leave. And on Monday everything will be as it always has been. Sy and I are friends. 

I repeat that to myself as I walk the hall toward the gym after school on Friday. I turned down the hall toward the locker rooms and found his office door open. Sy was leaning back in his desk chair watching the tape from a few weeks ago. He noticed me before I spoke. He paused the video and smiled. 

“Hey you! To what do I owe the honor? You never venture down this way?”

“Just coming to double check the plan for tonight! We’re meeting back here at 5:15 and the bus leaves at 5:45?” I asked him. He nodded, running a hand over his beard. 

“Yeah, but I was thinking, you got plans for dinner?” He asked and raised an eyebrow. 

“Uh I was just gonna run home for dinner, why do you ask?” I leaned against the doorway and crossed my arms over my chest. I watched curiously as he chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. 

“I was gonna grab a bite to eat in town before the game. I won’t have time to go all the way home. Do you wanna come with me?” He finally made eye contact with me again and gave me a soft smile. 

“Oh um,” I hesitated for a second. 

“I’ll buy,” He smirked. I rolled my eyes. 

“You don’t have to do that, Sy,” I said softly. He stood up grabbing his keys off the desk. 

“I know, I want to.” He smiled and brushed his shoulder against mine as he walked out the door. “Come on, I’ll drive.” I raised an eyebrow 

“Driving me to dinner and you’re paying? Sy if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were flirting with me.” the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk and he stopped walking. He turned toward me and bit his lip trying to hold back a grin. 

“Alayna,” He chuckled nervously, “I find it hard to believe after all this time…” He was cut off by a loud whistle down the hallway. 

“Well ain’t that a cute couple!” a voice said in a horrible mock southern accent “Get it coach!” One of Sy’s boys called from just outside the weight room. Another one of the football players popped his head out the door to see what was going on and started making kissy sounds with his lips. Sy dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head but his shoulders shook when he chuckled, giving him away. He loved those boys he couldn’t be mad if he wanted to be. 

“Tyler you’re already on thin ice don’t make me bench you tonight! You too Matt. Don’t think I forgot about the little stunt you pulled in the parking lot last week!” He gave them a stern look

“Sorry coach!” they said in unison 

“It was funny though,” Matt mumbled. Sy shook his head

“Sure, You boys get out of here and get something to eat, I don’t need you passing out on me on the field tonight.” He held Matt’s gaze. 

“It was one time!” He stressed. 

“And it’s only gonna be one if I can help it. Go eat!” He barked. The boys immediately straightened up and nodded. 

“Yes coach!” Logan just chuckled and we kept walking. 

“They adore you,” I said. He smiled 

“Nah, they just know I’m not kidding’” I laughed. 

“Oh come on Sy, you aren’t that mean, or you wouldn’t care so much,” We walked out the back door to the teacher parking lot and headed to his truck. “Hey… what were you saying earlier,” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about sugar,” He smirked. 

“Sure you don’t cowboy,” I rolled my eyes and hopped up into the truck after he unlocked it.  He slid in next to me and started the engine. 

“Where do you wanna eat?” He looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged. 

“Doesn’t matter to me, you’re buying,” I said flatly. 

“Sugar,” He threw his arm over the back of the seat, his fingertips brushing my shoulder, as he backed out of the parking spot. He left it there as he pulled out on the road. “Don’t be shy with me, I know you love food darlin.  I’ll drive all around town and we’ll starve until you tell me what you want.” I looked over at him just in time to make eye contact before his eyes shifted back toward the road. He shook his head and tried to hide his smirk. 

“You are so dramatic,” I teased, trying to play it cool but I could feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. 

“Oh, I’m dramatic? Weren’t you the one tearing up in her office because of a book you were readin?” He snickered. I reached over and playfully smacked him in the chest. 

“Shut up!” I laughed. He held his hand to his chest feigning hurt. 

“Ow!” He pouted. 

“That did not hurt! I barely hit you!” he side eyed me still pouting but the corners of his mouth started to break into a smile

“Over here committing spousal abuse.” He shook his head. I laughed so hard I snorted. 

“We’re not married Sy!” 

“You’re my work wife, it's the same damn thing” He chuckled. “Seriously, where do you wanna eat, I’m starving.” 

“My god Logan,” I laughed. “Um fine, I haven’t tried that new sushi and ramen place yet!” I said. He almost slammed on the break. 

“You haven’t?! That place is right up your alley, all trendy and shit. It’s real good too!” 

“You think I’m trendy?” I raised an eyebrow. He looked over for a moment and caught my eye giving me a gentle smile. 

“I think you deserve to be taken out to nice places.” And here I was blushing again. 

“Sy,” I started but my phone buzzed in my lap distracting me, I wasn’t really sure what to say anyway. It was a group chat with the girls asking me what time we leave tonight. They were going to have a field day with this. And instead of just replying I decided to start a fire. I tapped my screen to open my camera and held it up to take a selfie “Smile, cowboy.” He chuckled. 

“What are you doin over there, sugar?” He smirked but glanced over at the camera quickly so I could snap a quick photo. 

“Lighting a match.” I smirked. He bit his lip and chuckled softly. 

“You’re something else,” He spoke as we pulled into the restaurant. I quickly sent the picture to the group chat and slid my phone into my purse.

Sy was right. This place was incredible. And very trendy. 

“God I can’t get over how good this place is!” I said for like the 4th time. Logan smiled. 

“I told ya, Darlin,” The waitress came and brought out our bill and I reached for my purse. “Hey, No, I told you, I’m paying.” He said pulling out his wallet and handing his card to the waitress. 

“Thank you Sy, I appreciate it,” He grinned.

“Anytime, you deserve it,” I blushed, “ you’re really saving my ass tonight.” I forced a smile, so that’s what this is about. I told the girls this was all just because he needed something. 

“It’s no big deal Logan.” I said. I pulled my phone out and checked my messages. There were like 10 from the group chat now. 

“OMG YOU'RE WITH HIM?!”

“You didn’t tell us you were getting dinner with him.”

“UNLESS THEIR NOT GETTING DINNER ;)”

“What else would they be….oh”

“Alayna you better not be fucking the football coach right now.”

“Leave her alone Hayley she can fuck him if she wants to BUT IF YOU DO I WANT DETAILS”

“ALAYNAAAAA”

“GIRLLLL ANSWER USSSSS”

“Seriously dude you can’t just send us a picture of you with your hunky football coach man crush and just disappear.”

“OMG THEY’RE TOTALLY FUCKING”

I held back a smile and shook my head. 

“It is a big deal,” He said and grabbed my hand across the table. “I’m glad you’re gonna be there tonight.” I smiled but pulled my hand back. 

“Sure, because you needed another chaperone.” I joked. His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head catching my eye. 

“Yeah, but I wanted it to be you, I like hangin out with you. And you’re really fun to watch in the stands. I didn’t know you could be so…aggressive.” He smirked. 

“I’m just really passionate about football!” I argued. “And how do you know you like hanging out with me? We've barely seen each other outside of work.” I questioned. 

“Well we should change that,” he said.

“Won’t your girlfriend get jealous?” I asked. I knew a lot about him but he never mentioned any relationship. I’d be stupid to think he wasn’t seeing someone. He laughed. God I loved that sound. 

“Don’t have one sugar,” He said with a mischievous grin on his face. 

“How?” It was my turn to be confused. 

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” He retorted quickly. 

“I … because…” I stuttered, unable to come up with an answer.

“Haven’t found the right guy yet huh?” He pauses, “guess that’s where I’m at, she just ain’t found me yet.” He smiled. Right then the waitress came back with his card. “Thanks honey,” He said, giving her his signature smile. He signed the receipt and stood from the table. “We oughta get going. Don’t wanna be late for the game!” 

Sy drove us back to the school and parked his truck next to my car. “Oh no!” I sighed. 

“What's wrong?” He asked. 

“I was going to grab a sweatshirt when I went home and,” I opened my car, turning on the light to look in  the back seat. “I don’t have an extra in my car.” I pouted. 

“Is that all?” He chuckled. He reached into the back seat of his truck and pulled out a black hoodie. “Here. I always have an extra in the truck you can wear mine. Don’t want you to catch a cold.” I took it from him tentatively. 

“Sy, this is your coach sweatshirt.” I said. 

“One of ‘em yeah.” He smiled. 

“I…okay,” I just shook my head and pulled the hoodie on. He bit his lip. 

“Looks good on ya,” He smirked. 

“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes. Before we could continue to tease each other the buses pulled up. And I could see some of the students' cars pulling into the student lot “We’d better head over there!” I said quickly. Logan nodded. 

“Yeah, we better get going.”

[celtigxr]

THE PINK DREAD - CH. 29 (Masterlist)

Chapter Summary: There is no summary for this. Y'all are going in blind. Word Count: 7913 CHAPTER WARNINGS: Angst, Fluff, Self-Loathing, Depression Sluttiness. Oh, we're still talking about menstrual blood.

Series tags: Aemond x Plus size!OfC, Aegon x Plus size!OfC, Celtigar!ofc, Plot with Smut, mdni 18+, Aemond End Game, Angst, Comedy, The Dragons Don't Dance, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers.

Credits: Lace Banner by Aquazero, pearl divider by Pommecita

Notes: Yes, this chapter be a big girl. Also trying to pretend that ch. 28 not getting as much comments (given what happens in it) does not bother me. I'm totally okay. Really. (morgan freeman: Celt was in fact, totally not okay)

“Princess Helaena!” Ursula said in wonder when Ser Steffon introduced the princess’ arrival. “What a pleasant surprise! We were about to have supper, but you are welcome to join us?”

Helaena smiled politely, her arms woven behind her, “That is a kind offer, Lady Ursula, but I was wishing for Lady Valeana’s company tonight. May you spare her this eve?” 

Valeana had been idly biting the nail of her thumb, an excuse to keep her fingers on her lips, trying to reenact what happened on the balcony a couple of hours ago. Aemond had left her shortly after their kiss when they heard her mother and Floris arguing when they stepped foot inside the apartment. He gave her one last searing kiss and told her that she would see him again that night, though did not specify how that would happen. Then he scaled down the side of the castle, to the gardens below, like some majestic silver-haired mountain goat. 

Ursula turned to Bartimos who looked just as surprised. The Celtigars were nearly a full unit that evening, save for Clement who had chosen to remain in the pavilions. Floris, who sat as far away from Valeana as possible, had muttered under her breath about how Helaena would be doing them a favour, that there will be finally food for everyone. Comments like these weren’t uncommon, even back on the Isle, Floris would make passive aggressive remarks at how much food Valeana had on her plate during meals. However, Floris was no longer a simple annoyance Val had to endure, she was worse, and Valeana wasn’t just going to ignore her jabs any longer.

Valeana swept herself up from her chair and answered before her father could for her, “I would love to keep you company, my Princess. I was just starting to get a headache– there’s an awful perfumy smell around that reminds me of a desperate old maid.”  

Arthor snorted into his drink, and Shyla sniffed the air naively, not aware that it was meant to be an insult. Floris shot her a dangerous look, but ultimately her lips buttoned and the jab went unnoticed by their parents. 

Weaving her arm into Helaena’s, she turned to Bartimos, “Is that alright, father?”

Bartimos hesitated, but he knew he could never deny the princess’s request. “Of course, of course. Will you need Steffon to collect you later?”

Helaena answered this time, “That won’t be necessary, Lord Bartimos. I have made accommodations for my friend to spend the night in my bedchambers.” 

Valeana raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t argue. Her father seemed conflicted, but with one sharp look from Ursula, he relented. As a woman who loved networking amongst her sex, she was not going to let her husband hinder a friendship between their daughter and the only daughter of Queen Alicent. 

With a nod, Bartimos conceded, “That is agreeable. Though, make sure to return her early on the morrow. I want her ready before Princess Rhaenyra arrives.” 

Making that promise, the two girls bid their goodbyes and promptly left. Ser Arryk was waiting for them outside, and dutifully followed them when they left. Valeana sent him a tentative wave and a sheepish smile.

The knight smirked, “Haven’t stolen any more cooking ale recently, have you, Lady Valeana?”

“The night is still young. I may need your assistance again, Ser Arryk.” 

He silently laughed, but made no more comments. 

After a moment, Valeana leaned into Helaena’s shoulder, her voice a whisper, “...Are you bringing me to…?”

The princess’s smile was small, but knowing, “I am.” 

Val ran a hand over her middle, suddenly feeling very nervous. The butterflies had not left her stomach; they flapped wildly at the memory of her first kiss. Her lips still tingled with the memory, desperate to feel the same euphoria again.

She had no intention of kissing Aemond so quickly, so soon. There was a weak moment the night of the Ball, when they were near the act. Had Daemon not interrupted, she wasn’t entirely sure where that night would have led to. However, when her mind was more sober, Valeana decided that she would take things slow with Aemond, since after all, her heart was still pained with his scorn; the monster that Aemond made himself out to be was firmly present in her mind. Even though her anger for him has become a softer presence, it was still there, stirring her paranoia over his true intentions. 

But when she looked into his eye, when she saw his smile, when she felt the warmth of his touch, it was so easy to ignore her anxiety. What was left, however, was her guilt, which she did not entirely understand. Aemond was not her husband, they had only reconciled nearly two days ago, so why did she feel like she committed adultery? Mayhaps it was because she had always believed her first everything would be with him. Her first kiss, which she grew up believing was the ultimate act of intimacy, always had to be with Aemond. There was that moment when they picnicked underneath the mulberry tree when she thought he was going to kiss her, but it ultimately never happened. She blamed it on her frazzled and sweaty appearance that had scared him off. 

The decision to kiss Aemond was incredibly impulsive. She was driven by the need to give him something that she had never given anyone else. Valeana’s first kiss will always belong to Aemond. 

But her first sexual encounter was with Aegon, a fact that she somehow knew would break Aemond. Actually, thinking back on it, Valeana remembered the comments about Aegon he had spat in her direction. Comments that implied that Aemond already believed that something was going on between her and his elder brother. 

“If you want pity, Celtigar, go run back into the arms and pillows of my brother. You shall not find it with me.” “Though mayhaps that is what you desire. To be felt up like a common tart.”

And yet he came to her on hands and knees. Did he still believe those assumptions? They were false then, but now, they were not, even if it had only happened once, and it was more one sided, messy and foolishly impulsive. Maybe she should stop drinking, because so far the times she has drunk herself silly, a Targaryen Prince’s mouth ends up on her tit somehow. 

… On second thought.

When they began walking up the stairs and entered the iron gates that separated the Royal Wing, Valeana craned her neck around in confusion. This is where the King and Queen resided, not where Helaena and her brothers’ apartments were. 

“Where are we going?”

The princess gave her a secretive smile, “To where the sun and moon meet.” 

Valeana peered at Helaena, expression full of confusion, “... Helaena, you are dear to me, but can you please speak plainly.” 

Her grin widened, but she stopped walking when they got to a door, ornate with polished oak and shiny brass fixtures. Valeana had only been in this part of the castle possibly twice in her lifetime, and one of those times was the other day. When they stopped at this large arched doorway, there wasn’t a single thing about it that she recognized, but it still felt…familiar, somehow. 

“We’re here,” Helaena announces with her hands clasped in front of her. She looked between the door and Valeana, and Valeana looked between her, the door, and Ser Arryk. 

“Where is ‘here’?” Val raised her eyebrows. 

“Queen Aemma’s private quarters,” the princess looked up at the door before running a hand over the brass bars, “It hasn’t been used since she died. Except by my father… and your mother, once upon a time.” 

Valeana’s eyebrows dropped, “My…My mother spent time here?”

Helaena nodded, and then moved over to the kingsguard’s side, “It was her favourite place to be… You should head on in. He’s waiting for you.”

Ser Arryk did not meet Val’s eye when she looked at him, almost like he was trying to pretend that he hadn’t heard Helaena. Trying to conserve as much deniability as possible, should anyone come asking questions. What an honourable man, Ser Arryk was, always escorting her and dropping her off in Aemond’s arms. 

Valeana bowed her head, “Thank you, Princess.”

With a kind smile and a tilt of her head, she wished her friend a good eve, and then left her alone at the door. Valeana casted an eye up to it, and then down to the handle, only giving a moment’s hesitation before she pulled and turned the loop to yank it open. She entered the vestibule, with tall arched vaulted ceilings and blue tapestries hanging on either side. It was dimly lit with only wall sconces lighting her way, but she could make out the white sheets that covered the furniture in the solar. Her feet softly padded along the carpeted floor, eyes roaming east where she saw a set of stairs leading up to another grand door, likely to Aemma’s bedchamber. Then she looked west, where a small antechamber led way to even larger arched oak doors. They were slightly ajar, with a warm light emitting from beyond. 

“Aemond?” Valeana tilted her head as she followed the light. The butterflies were still actively fluttering about in her stomach, even more so now that she approached the threshold. Beyond the doors was a marvellous library, not near as big as the Royal Library, but its decorated and intimate splendor was unparalleled. Curved shelves reached the ceiling, domed with a fresco of a night blue sky and constellations. On the west end of the room was a large arched window, looking out towards the cliff sides of the Keep, where she could clearly see beaches free of commoners. A telescope sat before it, along with a writing desk hidden under a white sheet. 

“Queen Aemma loved mapping out the stars,” the sudden appearance of Aemond’s voice startled her. Her body jolted, and when she spun to face him, he was trying to contain his mirth at her reaction. He was seated at a table full of food, a half eaten peach in his hand. “At least, that is what my father told me.”

“Just as much as you love to startle me?” Valeana’s hand was on her chest to control her startled heart, but that was a fruitless attempt. It was beating erratically regardless at the mere sight of him. The light of the hearth beside him lit up his every contour in an amber glow. His jerkin was discarded, as well as his belt and sword that sat next to the fireplace. The buttons of his black tunic undone down to the valley of his pectorals, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was loose and untethered, one side brushed over his ear where the strap of his eyepatch went over. 

Val suddenly felt very wobbly on her knees. Her mouth watered, and it was not because she didn’t eat supper yet. Perhaps the butterflies in her stomach were actually moths, because they desperately fluttered around inside her, trying to reach Aemond’s flame. 

Fucking hells, she thought, openly staring at the way his long legs stretched out before him, taking up as much space as possible. What a terrible week to be bleeding.

“Probably less,” he smirked, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on her. “Are you hungry?”

She sucked in her bottom lip and nodded, “Ravish–I mean, famished.” 

When she made no move to reach for a seat, he raised an eyebrow at her, then pulled out the chair next to him. Blushing heavily, Valeana scrambled to sit down, immediately facing the food. She hadn’t a single thought in that empty little head of hers. Not anything profound, really. 

“Are you alright, Valeana?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, confirming her suspicion that he knew exactly what he was doing. 

She slowly turned her head in his direction while he made her plate – soft shell crab, deviled eggs, peeled shrimp drenched in herbed butter. Oysters. There were figs, mulberries, peaches, and pomegranates on the table. 

Somehow, by the power of sass, she found her voice, “Are you trying to seduce me, Prince Aemond?”

He chuckled lowly, moving onto his plate, “Woo you, more like. Is it working?”

Tentatively, she picked up her fork and stabbed into a shrimp, “You bring me into a secluded secret library of a late Queen, have almost all my favourite food accounted for, and you–” she briefly gave him a once over, “Shedded layers. It may be working, yes.” 

The Prince’s smile widened, enough for her to see his teeth, and she noticed that he had that same lopsided smile she always loved so dearly. Then, Aemond reached for an oyster (already shucked) and tilted the shell back into his mouth, slurping up the contents. The shrimp she was chewing was slowly being forgotten until she was forced to swallow. 

“No pearl?” She picked up her goblet to bring to her lips. 

He hummed, looking at the empty shell, and then back at her. His eye traveled southward, “Not in this one.” 

Swallowing her wine felt like she was swallowing gristle, “Seven, Aemond. When did you get so amorous?”

“I am a man, Valeana.” 

She eyed him up and down, humming, “And here I thought you were a cat.” 

He pursed his lips in amusement, dropping  the shell onto his plate with a clank. Then suddenly, Valeana felt herself being jerked towards him. He had grabbed the chair legs and yanked her closer until her side was cradled between his knees. She stared at him wide eyed and smooth brained. 

He took her left hand, the pads of his calloused fingers running along her knuckles, “Would you like to check for yourself?” Val’s mouth popped open at the question, but before she could vocalize a word – or produce a thought, really – he moved her hand into the opening of his tunic, splaying her fingers over the bare skin of his pec, right above his heart. 

Smooth, firm, warm. Definitely not a cat. 

“Hol–ee, hmmm…” She cleared her throat, eyes glued to the exposed pale skin of his chest. Even if he removed his hand from hers, Valeana was fairly certain at this point her palm was sweaty enough to create a suction. “Def-definitely a man.” 

“Are you sure you’re not wholly convinced?” He leaned in until his nose nudged against her cheek. “There’s more to explore.” 

Valeana’s eyes fluttered closed, fingers curling over the firm expanse of his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, just as frantic as her own. Suddenly she had no appetite, at least not for food. Her core ached, so much so she rubbed her thighs together, and clenched around the cotton plug. A painful reminder that she could not seek out her pleasure, not in the ways she wanted to. Though, perhaps that was for the best. When her mind found clarity, she would be reminded that Aemond was not entirely forgiven. Though, he was quickly climbing up to that finish line. 

“You do not need to make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

No, he was making it so, so fucking easy, and it shouldn’t be. After all he’s done, after all he’s said. No, perhaps the Mother knew what she was doing when she chose this week for her bleed. Aemond needed more time. 

“Aemond,” Valeana spoke with a stronger tone. When she tried to pull her hand away from his chest, she found she simply could not. Not because he had anchored her to him, but because the feel of his heart beneath her fingers was the only thing that reminded her that this was real. And it stuttered when she pulled her face away, “It’s… it’s not the right moment.” 

She felt her heart shatter at the way he was looking at her. That one lilac eye struggled to keep composure, but she could see the letdown, the sadness, the defeat. He offered her a small understanding smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“I understand. We can finish our meal, and I’ll have a kingsguard bring you back,” his words were monotonous, carefully controlled to conceal his crippling disappointment. 

Valeana immediately shook her head, fingers grasping at his heart, “No, no, I don’t want that– I want to remain here with you, Aemond. I just–I’m not ready to go that far. It’s too early.” 

Aemond’s face visibly softened, the smile appearing more genuine. His fingers curled around her hand at his chest before he moved his other to glide along the roundness of her cheek, “Hm, I see now. I will behave myself, I promise. Your virtue is in safe hands.”

She smiled back at him, leaning against his touch, ��You may covet my lips, though.”

The ends of his coiled smile deepened. With a hum, he leaned in closer, this time his nose bumping against hers, “Good. They were all I hungered for these last few hours.”

Without another word, his mouth was upon hers. The taste of the sea upon his lips, the nectar of peach on his tongue. It was a bizarre combination, but Aemond’s lips were the gates of the heavens, and his tongue might as well have been the fruit of the gods. With grasping hands and greedy fingers, Aemond had maneuvered Valeana onto his knee without breaking their heated kiss. 

Her hand was still atop his breast, addicted to the rhythm of his heart and the firmness of his muscle. Her other draped around his shoulder, fingers tangled in the perfect strands of his moonlight tresses. When Valeana felt his hands upon her waist, where his thumbs gently grazed the curve of her breasts, she let out a little whimper. A whimper that forced him to pull away from her, if only a fraction. 

“If you make noises like that, I will not be able to keep my promise.” 

She softly laughed through her nose, then finally released her hand from his chest, just to move it up the length of his neck and over his cheek. “Then mayhaps we should save the kisses for dessert.”

Aemond made a grunt of disapproval, but ultimately caved, “Hmmm, Fine.”

With a smile she lifted her chin so she could plant a kiss upon his brow, his eye closing for the moment in contentment. They resumed their dinner, though she remained where she was on his knee, and they picked at each other’s plate in idle conversation.

“You used to abhor seafood,” she remarked as he slurped down yet another oyster. “Now look at you. Eat any more oysters, and you really won’t be able to hold onto your promise.” 

With a smirk, he tossed another shell onto the pile he had created. No pearls in this batch. Aemond turned to her, still perched on his leg, now licking her butter-coated fingers, the sight of which was absolute torture. His top teeth sunk into his bottom lip, eye glued onto her mouth. 

“I never believed they were an aphrodisiac,” he turned away, trying to distract himself with a sip of wine. “At least not for me. Mayhaps I simply have a refiner pallet. Many things that fuel a man’s lust do not have the same effect on me.” 

Valeana eyed him skeptically, as she had a sudden growing urge to prove him wrong. Aemond still felt he was better than any man, that his will was mightier in all ways. And yet the yellowed remnants of his love marks still lingered on her breasts, a visual proof that wasn’t the case.

“And what does fuel your lust, my darling friend?” 

When Aemond turned to her, he leaned back against the chair to assess her carefully. His hand was on her waist still, securing her back as she stayed perched on him. Long fingers traced along the velvet fabric of her dress, reaching up to the laces on her back. 

“You want the truth of it?” 

Valeana nodded. 

Aemond sucked on his bottom lip as if contemplating if he should give her the truth of it. After a beat of him battling his thoughts, he moved his second hand to her waist, weaving his fingers together so she was caged in his arms. 

He dipped his head next to her ear and said softly, “The hardest I have ever been was when I heard you speak Valyrian. I sat there, next to you, a quiet fool, itching to stroke myself.”

A shudder ran down her spine, and she involuntarily clenched her thighs. Valeana raised her hooded gaze to meet his eye, and despite the overwhelming sense of shyness she felt over the confession, she felt bold enough to speak. 

“Iksis bona sīr, ñuha raqiros?” (Is that so, my friend?)

Aemond’s eye closed as he grumbled low in his throat. His hands gripped at her dress as he pulled her closer, until her side was fully flushed against his chest, “Gaomagon ao jorarghugon naejot amīvindigon nyke, Valeana?” (Do you seek to torture me, Valeana?)

His voice was a low base in his chest, making the back of her neck tingle, and her face heat up. “You deserve nothing less.” 

Aemond’s touch softened at that, but still kept her close. Instead his head dipped so he was in the cradle between her neck and shoulder, resting his forehead there while his fingers gently massaged the curve of her hip. 

“You are right,” he sighs. “Mayhaps that is how we should spend the rest of the evening. Torture me with your silver tongue, and make me beg for a taste of it.” 

Her breath hitched in her throat. Between the timber of his voice, the words he spoke with it, and the intimate way she was seated on him, Valeana was having a very hard time keeping her convictions. There was just something about him being so pathetic and needy that sent a whirlpool of arousal in her stomach. She could feel herself cave, with every caress of his hands, how they firmly yet softly roamed over the hills of her sides, her back, the tops of her thighs. Aemond’s fingers ghosted just under her breast, never quite touching, but never that far away from them either.

It was getting too much, too over stimulating, that she had to pull away. Valeana pulled herself from his lap with a flushed face, and actively avoided his penetrating stare, which was likely offended that she had removed herself from his orbit.

“It is getting late,” She announced, mind racing, heart pounding, trying to find a way to calm the evening before she did something stupid. She glided around his chair, and started to walk the length of the library, to the east side where she noticed a reading nook nestled amongst the bookshelves, an arched window tucked inside. It was more of a bed than a sofa, with a plush mattress, a collection of pillows and a wool blanket folded up in the corner. 

Aemond stood up almost as soon as she did, moving around his chair to reach her. “Do you wish to leave?” There was a slight urgency in his tone, one which she quickly settled by turning around and smiling. 

“No. I told you I don’t… But it is late, and the morrow brings us a long day,” she turned around, moving over to the reading nook. “Do you remember how we used to sneak into the library and you would read to me until we fell asleep?”

The sharp edges of his face softened, his eye watching her with such a deep fondness, that had she looked up at him she would have been rendered speechless at the sight. Instead she walked along the bookshelves that surrounded the plush nook, hands moving along the spines, noting how they were all Valyrian. 

“Of course I do,” Aemond moved closer until he was at her back. His hands draped over her shoulders, then moved down until they were lacing her fingers and his chin was resting on her shoulder. He folded their arms across her chest, pulling her flushed against him. “How could I forget that snoring?”

Valeana huffed in annoyance, and when he chuckled lowly at the reaction, she spoke a smidge bitterly: “Well, in that case, I can go sleep in Helaena’s room–”

“No, no,” he nuzzled her neck, planting greedy little kisses along it, giving her a field of goosebumps. “You’re staying here, with me. But tonight… It’ll be you who reads.”

Valeana leaned her head back, which only encouraged him more to leave a trail of fire along the exposed flesh in the junction between her shoulder and neck. “You’re a masochist now, Aemond?”

“Mērī lēda ao, ñuha gevie.” (Only with you, my beautiful)

Reluctantly he pulled away from her, unraveling his hands before he could pull her rear against his pelvis to show her just how tortured he actually was. “Queen Aemma has quite the collection. You will have quite a selection to choose from.”

Valeana sighed, her shoulders caving in the absence of his body. She could feel the damp spots he left along the ridge of her neck and shoulder, burning and yearning for more. Wasn’t it she that was supposed to be torturing him?

She couldn’t concentrate as she perused the books, but she tried. Tilting her head, she forced herself to read the titles, quickly translating them in her mind. There were a lot of histories, a lot about astronomy, one book was even about the mating rituals of dragons. Val’s finger lingered on that one, simply because of the absurdity of it. 

“Do you have a preference?” She decided to ask, moving closer to the nook, where the books got smaller, more frayed. More personal. 

“I would have you read me every single book in this library, if we had the time,” He answered from the other side of the nook, where he also browsed the titles. 

“I feel like that would kill you,” she joked, glancing over and taking in his regal profile and the outlines of his chest through the thin material of his tunic. 

“What a lovely way to die,” he smiled, tilting his head back at her. “Mayhaps that is when I’ll finally be forgiven. It would be well worth it.” 

Valeana’s features grew soft at that. She had no words for him, because she had no words for herself. It was like she was on a battlefield, and the soldiers were versions of her. Those who fought for peace, those that fought for vengeance, all in pursuit of claiming and protecting her heart. Whenever she felt she was close to giving in and forgiving Aemond, and succumbing to her weakness for him, intrusive reminders of what he had said to her would invade the plains of her consciousness. 

“If you want pity, Celtigar, go run back into the arms and pillows of my brother. You shall not find it with me.” “I do not give a shit about her. I never have, and the Seven knows I never will.”  “What makes you think I’d ever marry you?!”  “Get away from me, you pig!”

“But I will spend the rest of my life in dedication to the pursuit of being worthy of your forgiveness. Worthy of your touch. Worthy of your lips. Worthy of the air you breathe. I need you to know that I am yours, should you still want me. If you ever did.”

Valeana blinked rapidly when she felt her eyes start to sting, then directed her attention back to the books. However, she couldn’t even focus on the titles, so instead she reached out and snatched the first one within her grasp. A small, frayed blue book, with an embossed rose on the leather cover, and two simple words gilded underneath, “Prūmia Udrir.” Heart Language.

“I found a book of poems,” she softly declared, gently opening up the cover and seeing the stained, dog-eared parchment. Val smiled fondly at it, “It looks well loved.” 

Aemond returned to his side, bringing his scent and heat with him, instantly flooding her mind with longing. Her morose musings were completely forgotten, now that she was in his orbit. Leaning over her shoulder to read the title of the book, his breath tickled her cheeks as he hummed his approval, “Appropriate.” 

“Time to get settled in, then,” clutching the book in her hand, Valeana walked over to the nook and sat on the edge to toe off her shoes. Glancing up,she saw that Aemond was doing the same, while also unbuttoning his tunic.

She immediately froze, “Wh-what are you doing?”

He smirked, “Getting comfortable. Generally I sleep in the nude, but… I am supposed to be behaving tonight.”

Valeana’s face turned into a tomato as his hands unfastened the last button of his tunic before he pulled the rest off his head, “R-right…” Words continue to fail her this evening. 

Her mouth fell open at the sight of him: remarkably pale skin, chiseled out of marble, every curve and sharp edge of his body was utter perfection. There wasn’t a part on his torso she wasn’t drinking in; Valeana was desperate to memorize every centimeter of skin, right down to the V at his hips, which is where her eyes found rest. 

“Hells…”

Aemond slowly padded towards the mattress where she sat, then hooked his finger under her chin to force her to look at him. “My face is up here, sweetheart.” 

Valeana swallowed, “I thought I was the one doing the torturing tonight?”

He chuckled, then leaned in to capture her lips in a sweet kiss, “You are already doing a marvelous job without trying. Though, as much as I love to see that hunger-panged look you have, if my body makes you uncomfortable, I can redress–”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

He grinned broadly, “As my lady wishes.” Aemond then took a moment to assess her state, before tilting his head, “Don’t you wish to undress?”

Valeana flushed vividly, “What?” 

“I only meant– wouldn’t you like to be more comfortable? Isn’t that dress incredibly tight?”

It was, like most of her gowns. Even if it was more modest and had less layers, it was still designed to conceal as much of her stomach as she possibly could. Sleeping in it would be uncomfortable. She did have a shift underneath though, and it was burgundy, like the dress, so it would not be sheer. Still, the thought of having such a thin piece of clothing separating her from Aemond was… nerve wracking. 

And exciting. 

Clearing her throat, Valeana shifted so her back was slightly turned, “Can you loosen these?” 

Aemond sat down on the mattress behind her, then gently moved her braid over her shoulder. His fingers grazed along the expanse of her shoulder blades, causing a shiver to run down her spine. Reaching the laces, he untied the knot and began to pull the corset loose, all the while keeping his pointer finger under the hem so he could trail it along her spine. Valeana shut her eyes and sighed, at both being freed from the confines of her bodice, and from the intimate touch. 

“Why do you wear so many layers?” His question came softly and curiously. 

“To hide my body,” her answer came just as softly. 

His movements paused, “Why would you do that?”

Valeana turned her head, her throat bobbing as she swallowed, “Aemond–”

“You have a gorgeous body,” he resumed, finishing off the laces before having his hands crawl around her middle and folding over her belly. Then he tugged her onto his lap, leant in and kissed the back of her neck and along the length of her right shoulder. “You always have.” 

Valeana sighed, her head falling back against him. With his hands on her belly, she felt far more self conscious than she did the day his hands and mouth were on her breasts, all exposed and sweaty. But his touch sent tingles of desire and warmth in its wake, and as much as her nature wishes to recoil, she didn’t. 

“Aemond–” She pleads his name a second time, whether it is for him to stop or continue, she isn’t entirely sure. 

“If you don’t believe me, let me show you,” he reaches down and bunches up the burgundy skirt in his fist, pulling it over her thighs. 

“Aemond,” She pleaded a third time, this time with a little more force. She was aroused beyond sense, but the reminder of her moon’s blood was enough to shake her back to reality. Valeana pulled herself off his lap, but didn’t step away from him, just stayed a few inches away as she stood up. “I told you it’s not the right moment.” 

Aemond sighed through his nose, his frustration evident, but he swallowed it down. “Apologies,” He ran his hand through his hair. “I promised I would behave, and I am failing.” 

“Trust me, Aemond, if it were any other week, I would not want you to,” if she were in any other state of mind, she would have more sense to say no without needing an excuse. But Valeana wanted him, convictions be damned. 

He peered at her curiously, “What do you–”

“I’m bleeding,” she smiled awkwardly with a roll of her eye. “An incredible inconvenience, I assure you.”

Aemond blinked at her before his features softened to a slightly amused one, “Ah.” He looked down at the burgundy gown, and realized it all made sense now. With a soft chuckle, he moved his body further into the nook, and beckoned her, “Then we shall be inconvenienced together.” 

Valeana rolled her eyes again, shaking her head with an embarrassed grin. “Seven help me… One moment.” 

Aemond watched with complete enraptured silence as she pulled off the dress over her head, and then shimmied out of the petticoat underneath. All that was left was the shift she wore, too dark to see through the fabric, but thin enough that he could see the curve of her rear. Especially prominent when she sat down on the edge of the mattress. 

Clearing her throat, she bunched up her chemise on her left side, “This will only take a minute.” 

Aemond felt a wave of gooseflesh ripple throughout his body at the sight of her wooden prosthetic. It was almost too easy to forget its existence, with how she carries herself as if it were her actual flesh appendage. Though its appearance simply reminded him of his life’s mistakes, and that instantly humbled him. Suddenly he felt so incredibly foolish, trying to seduce her and being greedy for her body, when he already robbed a part of her. 

With practiced ease, the type that comes from doing such an act multiple times a day, every day for a decade, Valeana unbuckled her prosthetic from her thigh and slowly slotted it off. She could feel his eye on her, which made her all the more self conscious about it, but sleeping with her wooden leg always made her thighs sore from chaffing, her knee stiff, and her stump itchy from sweat. With a contented sigh, she laid it against the bookcase that framed their alcove, and then slowly unbound the linens around her severed appendage. 

Valeana could feel Aemond’s breath on her shoulder, and when she turned to look, he was hovering over her, looking at her leg with an almost unreadable expression. Perhaps it was sorrow and guilt, but there was an underlying anger as well, likely at himself. 

Saving him from his self loathing, Valeana pushed the curtain of her shift back over her knee, “Are we settled?” 

He shifted behind her, “Not quite.” 

Twisting around, she watched as he hooked the strap of the leather patch with a finger and pulled it off his head. His hair fell like a curtain of moonlight around his slender face, shadowing the deep blue sapphire gem embedded in his scared eye. Valeana felt her nose tingle at the sight, as she felt remnants of mourning of the young boy he used to be, his face complete, unshattered, and untouched by violence. After he reached over to place the piece of leather on the bookshelf, Valeana captured the sides of his face with her hands and brought his lips onto hers. Aemond made no movement of protest or hesitation; he fell into the dance of lips, tongue, and teeth with equal longing and need. 

Valeana let out a sigh as her back settled in the pillows, lips still locked with Aemond’s. He hovered over her, hands holding himself up on either side of her head. In the end, it was he who ended their kiss, as much as he loathed it. If they continued in this position, he would have his hips rutting in between hers, bleeding be damned. 

Valeana gave a little sound of disappointment, which earned her a little smile from the man who hovered over her body. Her hands moved from his face, over his shoulders and clavicle, until they found a home along his chest and abs. That smile broadened. 

“Still inspecting?”

“Not entirely convinced you’re not a cat,” she replied, lips pulled into a sheepish pout. 

Biting his lip to contain his chuckle, Aemond quickly grabbed the book and placed it in her hand, “Now you’re the one who must behave.” He moved off of her, settling in the space between her and the window, arm reaching out to snag the wool blanket and pulled it over their bodies.

Meanwhile, Valeana moved back so she was in more of a sitting position, and as she was about to open the book, Aemond slotted to her side. His chin rested on her shoulder, and his arm draped over her middle to keep her close. She took a moment to breathe in the moment, allowing a familiar warmth and comfort to fill her bones and relax her shoulders. This felt right. This felt perfect. This felt like something she could do for the rest of her life.

She rested her cheek upon his head and opened the cover, then flipped a few pages before she found the words and began to read. Aemond sighed deeply under her, his eye falling shut at the sound of her timbre reverberating through him, releasing all the tension in his bones and muscles. 

And so they remained like that, for a little while, as Valeana read every delicate page she could. Each line more beautiful than the next, made for a tongue such as hers. When she felt the full weight of Aemond’s head on her shoulder, and heard his heavy breathing, she slowly stopped reading. Gently placing the book to her side, she lifted her head and peered to check if he had actually fallen asleep. The loose grip he had on her waist and his closed eye confirmed it. Valeana couldn’t help but smile fondly down at him, looking so peaceful in the dim light. The hearth had dwindled down to red embers, the sconces had lost oil, and the candles were being darkened by their self-snuffers. It was time for her to call it a night as well.

Valeana ran her free hand over the crown of his head, threading her fingers through the silky strands, and ghosting her fingers over the shape of his jaw. He was so unbelievably handsome, it felt like a sin to look at him in this peaceful state. Even his sapphire eye, always open, glaring at her like the midnight sky. Sapphires had always been her favourite, and she wondered if he chose it specifically for that reason, subconsciously or with intention. 

Careful not to disturb his slumber, she slid down to a lying position, softly moving his head from her shoulder and onto the pillows behind them. She then positioned her body so it was facing his, making sure to keep his arm draped around her middle, keeping him as close as possible. The book was wedged between them, so she plucked it by the back cover and went to move it to the floor, but the sight of a handwritten note on the back made her pause. 

Squinting in the dark, Valeana tried to read the crude attempt at Valyrian script. 

“Se vēzos naejot ñuha hūra Nyke jehikagon kesrio syt hen aōha ōños Dōrī isse mēre jēdar Kessa mirre sagon isse sȳndor Ēva īlon ékleipsis arlī”

“The sun to my moon

I shine because of your light

Never in one sky

Will ever be in shadow

Until we eclipse again. - L.” 

“Engagement?! What makes you think I’d ever marry you?!” 

“Aemond, I– my father—” 

“Get away from me, you pig!” 

With peridot eyes rolling into the back of her head, Valeana slipped into the void with a cry for help, a cry for him. Then a loud snap, like a clap of thunder overhead, followed by an ear-bleeding scream that would forever echo in Aemond’s skull. 

He woke up with a violent jerk, muscles tense, chest heaving. He thought he saw blood on his hands, but he was just fisting the fabric of Valeana’s burgundy chemise. Valeana. She was here, she was with him. They were in Queen Aemma’s library still. She had her back turned to him and he was still holding onto her from behind, moulding his sharp corners with her soft round ones. Something had fallen, he had suspected, which forced him to wake up in a startle. Glancing at the window, he could see rain softly hitting the glass that served as a background for their little nook, but there was no thunder to be heard. 

Blinking rapidly, Aemond tried to rid his eyes of sleep so he could peer into the darkness. Tentatively, he sat up on his elbow to cast a look around the library, but found no one. He waited, trying to listen for any sounds that may betray the presence of a hidden figure, but he heard nothing. He shifted further, peering over Valeana’s body so he could crane his neck to see their flanked sides, and that is when he spotted her prosthetic lying on the floor. That is what fell. 

The sight of it was agony.

A sharp snap, and a scream. A bone peaking out through torn white flesh, blood on the floor, blood on his hands.

Aemond pulled his eye away from the offending piece of wood, then rested it on her form next to him: curled up on her side, hand tucked beneath the pillow, and softly snoring. Then he trailed his gaze down the length of her body, along the knolls of her curves, down the slope of her hip and thigh. Her legs disappeared underneath the woolen blanket, where he stared the longest. 

Aemond was a masochist… But only for her. 

He reached out and gently moved the blanket, and then slowly lifted her shift until he could see the rounded end of her calf. A few inches below the knee, soft muscle smoothed around what was left of her calf bone. To drive the knife in, her left leg tangled with her perfect right one. A single foot, a single calf. 

Aemond’s fingers trembled when he reached out to touch her knee. He caressed it, as if it were a newborn’s head, fearful that he might damage it further. The tips of his fingers moved lower, trembling more now that he reached the end point of her leg. It was calloused at the stump, likely due to the prosthetic, likely due to years of having to relearn how to walk in ways very few humans would understand. 

Was it still painful? Could she feel sharp pain in her knee whenever she walked, but hid it behind a sarcastic smile? His empty eye used to get sharp pains every once in a while, as if a knife had pierced through it again, though that had subsided with age, now it was only a dull sting. More often it was the headaches, like icepicks to his temples, mainly behind his right eye now that it had to compensate for the missing left. 

Did she experience the same with her right leg? 

 “Save your breath, Valeana. You’re almost out of it.”

He made her run alongside his horse. 

At the intruding reminder his chest constricted, and he squeezed his eye tightly shut, grimacing at the memory. The sting of his greatest regrets and sins burned behind his lid, tingled his nose, and shook his bones like an earthquake. Aemond grit his teeth so tightly, he could feel it at his temples throbbing as he tried to literally bite back his tears. He was holding his breath, a fact he hadn’t realized until his lungs couldn’t take it anymore, forcing him to inhale sharply and effectively breaking the dam. The trembling that started from his hands now reached every corner of his body, making him shake as if he was caught nude beyond the protection of the Wall.

Aemond gasped as his grief overtook his body. The tears clouded his only eye, spilling down the creases of his cheeks, and dripped down to the point of his chin. He then bowed his head onto her hip, shaking hands grabbing onto her sides to remind himself that she was here, and she was alive. Though perhaps he did not deserve what remained of her. Perhaps he should let her go, into the arms of Aegon, or Jacaerys, or whomever that would make her happy. 

His body curled into her side, arms latching around her left leg as he violently sobbed into her hip. The words “I’m sorry” tumbled out of his quivering lips over and over again, a broken prayer, a shuddered plea. 

“I’m so sorry, my friend. My beautiful Valeana… What have I done… What have I done…” 

Aemond’s unworthy lips kissed her knee and what remained of her lower leg. His tears stained her chemise, head still bowed upon her, a sinner at the feet of the Maiden.

In the sanctuary of the darkness, Aemond freed the beast that he had been afraid of all these years. With green eyes and claws of vengeance, her name was grief, her name was guilt, her name was shame. He could do nothing but present his neck to her, offering up his life and hope it will be enough. 

Valeana stirred in her sleep. Her legs moved as she gave a gentle stretch, along with a contented moan. Aemond was forced to pull away as she adjusted herself on the small bed, moving from her right side, onto her left, now facing him. 

“Mm, Aemond,” his name tumbled from her pouty lips, while her hand blindly reached out for him. 

Mutely, he moved back to her. Lifting her arm so it was draped over his waist, and then placed his own on hers. Aemond then wove his leg around hers, bringing her closer until she was tucked under her chin and secured to his chest. 

“Ñuha vēzos,” he whispered into the crown of her head. “Iksan indignus hen aōha ōños.”

(My sun. I am unworthy of your light.)

CHAPTER THIRTY SNEAK PEAK

“Did we not already have this conversation?” He peered at her in confusion. “You told me to stop pursuing her, threatened to chain me to my rooms, and I completely ignored you?” “Aegon,” her tone was a force in its steadiness. Alicent strode over to him, and despite being shorter, it still felt like he was under her. Like he was still a child. “Tell me the truth, for once in your bloody life. What. Are. Your. Intentions?”  Aegon’s mouth fell into a pout, his red rimmed eyes stared back at her like a reprimanded puppy. Alicent never swore, he would remember if she did. His mother had a knack of making polite words sound as lethal as a Valyrian steel blade.  “To cour–” She did not allow him to finish. Alicent’s hand grabbed his face firmly under his jaw. 

Notes: What a couple of sad, sad horny yougens. Anyway, I loved this chapter, and I hope you guys did too. It's a meaty one, with a lot of conflicting feelings, which I hope gives the vibe I wanted to, which is emotional confusion. Also, I just love when strong men get super pathetic. Oh, and one more thing: The Valyrian Moan found in the book is a haiku written by me. It's the only poem thingy that I did not have AI help me write. Haikus are the only thing I can do. It also 👀hints a little bit at the prequel mini series.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel, @t0biasparabatai

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[thanyatargaryen]

Make it Official

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(video taken from IG @pedrosgermangirl) I was thinking about doing something like this after i saw that video. please show them some love if you can by liking their edit.

Pedro x F!reader

No Warnings all fluff

Summary: You have been in a relationship with Pedro for a good year since you guys met at SDCC in 2024. Now you guys got invited to a halloween party and want to make it official so you get to thinking when you see an edit on IG of Pedro as Oberyn Martell and that mustard robe he loved.

Pedro was laying in his couch when you open the door to your apartment carrying a big envelope with his name and one with yours. "Pedrito... baby... i think we got some hefty mail" you say lifting the big envelopes on each hand. "Hefty? wait a second." He leaves his book on the side table and stands up getting the envelops and opening one. The hefty letter was a quite elaborated invitation to Heidi Klum's Halloween party.

"Is what i think it is?" you ask and lean into your letter looking at the end of the letter seeing the initials HK. In your life would you have thought you were going to get invited to that party ever. You turn around and see Pedro looking at you and then the letter "Well princess, i think is time to make it official if we are going to the party." he smiled and kissed your temple while going to the kitchen. You were still frozen in place while your mind went 100miles per hour.

"We need to think what are we going to be for the party, we have a good month or so. I think it will be good to have some pictures taken just in case, what do you think?" At this point you had your phone on your hand and sitting at the kitchen bar. "I was thinking about something like Disney like Aladdin or Beauty and the Beast... or something more like animals?" you started babbling as he smiled and held your hand while you were swiping through instagram and found a reel with Pedro as Oberyn Martell. "We can go as whatever you want just no animals that wold creep me out a bit." he said as you see the reel and show it to him.

"What about if we bring back Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand? it will be good to have pictures in it and then we can make it official by posting them on each others instagram accounts. I think it would be cute." you say looking at him and then biting your lips thinking on how good an older version of Oberyn would be. "It could be a good idea... i can ask Coco if she knows where we can get something similar to that robe or maybe help us with the color scheme for that day." Pedro as as excited as you were while kissing your head and massaging your shoulders.

"I think it will be a great idea and i can get a friend of mine to d the pictures a few hours earlier that day and we can post them on our way to the party." It was going to be a fun day. Days passed while Pedro spoke with Coco and she managed to send a color palette for the costumes from a friend who is helping with that since it would take at least two months to get the mustard robe done. you both decided for a classic burnt orange with gold and dark green palette for the costumes and Coco's friend started her magic.

You called your friend who you had met since you started doing content for youtube. he was coming back from Japan and having a 2 day trip in NYC which made it easier for him and his girlfriend to do the pictures a few days early. When you told Pedro about it he was finishing talking with Coco. "Before i forget, Coco said that the costumes are almost done and that we need to go into her studio to check final details." you hug him and kiss his cheek "When? By the way, my friend will be here for a few days so if the costumes are done early we can get the pictures early too." you smile and look up at him "Sounds good, i think that we can ask Coco about that and see maybe we can get them the weekend before the party."

Pedro was so sweet with you and you felt so in love every day. The day you were going to meet with Coco you got into the cab and luckily no one saw you together. you were holding hands and swiping through your phones until you arrived. Coco was waiting for you at the basement of the building to take you straight to her office where the costumes were waiting. "Coco thank you so much for your help. Im not sure how to repay this big favor!" you said while holding Pedro's hand and entering the studio where her friend had two mannequins with your costumes. yours was a long flowy and silky dress with half burnt orange and half dark green tied by multiple gold chains around the body with two big slits on the sides of your legs. while Pedro'd was a long burnt orange robe with a dark green undershirt and gold belt along with brown pants and boots while you had gold gladiator sandals. You were speechless while looking at the work of art as both women finished setting up your costume which had a chain wig like Ellaria had at the purple wedding the only difference was that yours had multiple orange, gold and green stones in it.

"You ladies did a wonderful job in such a little time. You would look gorgeous in that dress." Pedro was looking at you and then the dress. "Well love birds, get yourself dressed and we can see if we need to do some work on them before you can take them." Coco's friend Emily was hurrying you guys up and when you came out from the makeshift changing room she started lookin gat you while smiling. "Well i'm so good at my job that i don't see anything that needs fixing... and you guys? do you feel like you need something changed?" Emily was looking at you while Pedro could not stop looking at you with his mouth open.

"I see nothing to be changed specially not in hers... she looks gorgeous." Pedro reached out to grab and kiss your hand while you blushed. "Well you look handsome yourself my prince." you said jokingly while Coco and Emily were giggling looking at you both. "Good to know i made a good job. You can take them home and use it when you have your party. Im happy to have been able to help you." Emily was picking up her things as you were putting everything in a box for each costume. Pedro was ordering a cab and you were texting your friend to let him know about the pictures.

the craze of Heidi's party was growing since it was T-1 day for the party. you were trying on different makeup while Pedro sneaked up on you with a desert rose on his hand in a small pot. "A rose to another rose." he whispered into your ear while kissing your neck. "Thank you... I appreciate it is gorgeous." "but not as much as you are." Your friend had been in NYC for a day and you were finishing up the makeup for the next day to get the pictures done and then attend the party. Out off the corner of your eye you see Pedro getting something from his drawer and then leave the room.

DAY OF THE PARTY.

Your friend had been at your apartment setting up his cameras along with his girlfriend who was helping you with your hair. Pedro was talking with your friend while you stood at the backdrop waiting for him. At this point Pedro was talking with your friend asking for help to do something unimaginable. Your friend knew and told his girlfriend about what was going to happen and to help entertain you at the end of the shoot. you had such wonderful chemistry wit the camera and the indicators your friend gave you were to the point. It had been a few hours and almost time for you to leave when she reaches up to fix your hair and the chain when your friend starts taking pictures and has a camera recording towards you while your friend's girlfriend points back at you and Pedro is behind you.

"i know this is a weird way to do it but i knew you were the love of my life the moment i saw you in that interview. I saw the woman i wanted to spend my life with and..." he says as he took your left hand and kneeled with a blue box on his hand where a wonderful engagement ring was placed, a big emerald sitting on a gold band. "I know it might seem fast but i wont let you go... i've waited for you all my life... mi amor quiero pasar los años que me quedan contigo." this point you were trying not to cry while looking at your friend and then his girlfriend to go back and see Pedro with a few tears himself coming down his cheeks. "My lady would you make me the most lucky man in this world and marry me?" You could only nod and kneel with him as he placed the ring on your finger kissing your knuckles, your wrist, the palm of your hand and then your lips. As you kissed tears of happiness came down your face and you were hugging him hard into your chest as your friend started sending pictures into your guy's phones.

"I love you Pedro." you whisper into his neck and kiss him while he helps you stand up. you turn around and see your friend "You knew..." you point at him and he nods along with his girlfriend "we played along really well" she said and started checking the pictures sent to each one of you.

On your way to the party you were looking at the pictures and looking at which ones you were going to put on instagram when you get a notification of Pedro's where it shows your hand and him kissing your hand.

"She said yes"

The picture made you smile and followed by that you upload one where you are kissing both on your knees with the ring showing on your hand,

"I said yes... I would say a thousand times yes!"

At this point you had arrived to the party with a bunch of notifications on your phone and paparazzi shooting at you and how Pedro had placed his hand on the small of your back guiding you as you got pictures taken. At one section you stopped like all others were doing, Pedro pulled you to him with your hand on his chest showing the ring, your hands locked on his chest and kissing each other. A few hours later during the party you saw multiple headers on social media saying

"Pedro Pascal shows up at Heidi Klum's Halloween party with his fiancé Y/N Y/L content creator and interviewer." all this showing the two pictures on each other's social media plus the one on the welcome red carpet.

You smile and reach for Pedro's hand while showing your phone. "I'm the most happy" He reaches and kisses your hand and then your ring "Not more than i am my love." you were high with love and hoping what it was to come, hopefully, many years of happiness and adventures.

mi amor quiero pasar los años que me quedan contigo: my love i want to spend whatever years i have left with you.

I'll be updating "Mutual Agreement" in a few hours remember rebloging and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

[wri0thesley]

thinking about chubby reader in their historical formal clothes, corsets and stays and stockings and low necklines and ribbons, and them being absolutely lusted after and desired and fantasised about by whatever character you want….

[allkordelia]

Keep Me Near Your Heart XX

Jaenara stare out the window in daze, her mind muddled and scrambled with various scenarios of her husband whereabouts, it had been two days since he last been back and Jaenara was beginning to go a little stir crazy.

She start pacing around the room, it was late, she came back from spending another dinner alone.

Jaenara's emotions were split, she was angry and worried about her husband, as much as she grown find his existence annoying, she needed him still. She needed him here with her, with their child, he been gone for so long that Jaenara took to crying herself to sleep.

If she founds out that he was with Rivers this entire time, she was leaving him and killing her and that bastard in her stomach. She wasn't going to let him humiliate her or their child, not again not ever.

The sound of the door opening made jaenara turn so quickly it made her dizzy for second, she look towards the door to see Aemond walking in with one hand behind his back.

He closed the door behind him and stood in front of it with a nervous look on his face.

"Where have you been." Jaenara hiss after a minute of tense silence between them, her hands balled into fist by her side, "Do you have any idea the hell I been through without you here."

Aemond look at her with apologic look, he was relieve and a little happy that his beloved was thinking of him while he was away.

"Hello! Idiot. I asked you a question." She  snapped making Aemond snap out of his thoughts to look at her just as jaenara was stalking towards him.

Aemond dropped his arm from behind him clenching the object in his hand tight out of nervousness, as jaenara stop just a couple of feet in front of him and glance over him before notcing how hard he had his fist clench.

"What's in your hand?"

Aemond swallow the lump stuck in his throat before clearing it.

"Well, I know you been feeling...stress, so I thought I'll get you something to lighten up your day." He said softly, Jaenara looks from the necklace to her dense husband.

"If you wanted to "brighten up my mood", Aemond. Maybe, you should have fucked me two days ago rather than leaving  to get me some stupid jewelry, you know I will never wear, you should have come back home and fuck me like you promise." She snarl, Aemond deflates before bowing his head. 

"I thought--"

"I don't have you around to think, you dope, you are here to pleasure me." She jeered, "And to keep an close eye on you, I know how weak...men are when they miss their mommies and past lovers. " She sneer before turning away from to walk towards the bed.

"Your right, my love--"

"I know I am," she sassed, "Now, throw that thing away and do what your good at." Jaenara fall flat on her back on the bed, she move her legs up so her feet is planted on the mattress parted.

Aemond stayed frozen by the door, he knew he couldn't keep his love waiting for too long so he slowly drag his feet over to the bed before stopping in front of Jaenara's parted legs.

"Well? What are you waiting for." She asked agitated.

Aemond frown a bit, before he looks down at the necklace in his hand.

"Can I make a request, my belove?"

Jaenara exhale before dragging her elbows to push her up to look at Aemond.

"Does it still involves you fucking me?" She asked annoyed.

Aemond nodded his head, jaenara gave a eyeroll before giving a nod. Aemond moves his hand in front of him, and opened his fist to take one end to display the necklace fully.

"I would like to put this on you...while we make love." He looks up at her when he said the last sentence, Jaenara raise her bow curious before sitting up as her legs hang off the bed to get a closer look at the necklace.

Jaenara glance at the beautiful blue jewel, it's stone reminding her of Aemond's sapphire eye.

Jaenara looks back up at Aemond before moving off the bed, she turn around moving her hair aside for her husband to the necklace on. It took a second before jaenara felt aemond's fingers ghost along her skin on her neck, she felt the cool metal of the chain rest against her warm skin.

Soon lips press against her neck before he move to peck along her collarbone before moving to the other side of her neck as he put his hand on her stomach rubbing the round belly of his belove, Jaenara closed her eyes and lean against him, he press his lower half against her rocking his hips slowly as he suck on her neck causing her to let a small mewl.

The slow pace was not feeding the fire inside her, she pulls away quickly and turns towards Aemond catching by surprise as she grab his cheek and pulled him down to kiss him. Aemond made a noise during the kiss, Jaenara maneuver aemond around so he was now standing front of the bed without breaking their kiss. She slides her hand down his cheeks to his chest and start unbuttoning his vest before shoving it off his shoulder, she move to do the same for his shirt but forgot about it leaving the tunic to remain open. 

Jaenara pull her lips from Aemond and push his chest making him fall onto the bed, she climb on top of him to straddle his hips before leaning back down to peck kisses along his neck as her hands work to unbutton his pants.

"We need not need to be quick, my love." Aemond says, but jaenara ignore him as she shove her hand down his trousers.

Aemond's hand was quick to shot out to grasp her wrist making her stop from pulling him, Jaenara pulls back to look at Aemond with a scowl.

"What! What is it now, Aemond." She snaps, Aemond look at her with parted lips as he stare at her unsure.

"...I want us to go slow, I wish to make love to you...it feels like forever since we made love and I want to take my time...to make you feel good--" Aemond speaks as his hand moves from her waist to grasp her cheek, but jaenara was quick to slap it away and interrupt him.

"Does it really matter? Your getting your cock wet one way or another," she snarked, "So, lay down, shut up, and enjoy." She roll her eyes before snatching her hand out of aemond's grasp to go back to pulling out his cock.

Aemond didn't say anything, he drop his hands to his side and lay his head back like his wife's demanded.

Jaenara lick her hand before pumping Aemond's cock making the young prince moan and whimper as he clench and unclench the sheets, jaenara bite her lips getting wet from the small noises her husband was making. Once Aemond was fully erect, jaenara lift up her skirt while her other hand kept up her motion before she rub his cock along her folds.

Jaenara and Aemond moan in unison as she lower herself, Jaenara's eyes was closed in bliss, feeling like she haven't felt a cock in her in years. She didn't waste time before she start moving her hips up and down his cock in a slow pace to get use to him again, after a few minutes Jaenara was rocking her hips as she digs her nails into Aemond's chest causing a wince to come from the man below.

Nothing but grunts and moan filled the room, both enjoying the feel of each other after days of not touching. One was more happy than other, which confuse the latter since sex makes everything better. Right?

Jaenara peel her eyes opened and look down at her husband as she still moves on top of him, she take him little by little. Her eyes gaze over his big hands on her hips, before moving her eyes to look at his hard and muscular ivory chest that was glistening. She put her hand on his chest, digging her nails into him again hearing him grunt, not sure from the pleasure or the pain, but she enjoy seeing his muscles tighten when his fucking her.

The dragon princess begin to slow down as she slowly start to get close and tired as she does all the work, she flick her eyes to Aemond's features, her brow twitch as stare at her husband close eyes and scrunch up face. It was a familiar look that she seen before, the way he tilt his head back and how he squeeze his eyes closed really tight, it look like he could be thinking about something...or someone?

Before she could stop herself, Jaenara's hand flew out and smack Aemond across the cheek.

Aemond yelp in shock and look at his wife in disbelief, Jaenara stare back at him equal shock and disbelief. She was so in disbelief that it soon turn to anger as the feeling suddenly took over her bosy and mind, before she even realize it she was hitting him again.

"You...bastard." she hiss under breathe as her hits switch between hitting him in the face and his chest.

Aemond block his belove wife's hits with his arms blocking his face, he didn't want to grab her and hurt her, he knew she tire herself out eventually.

The one eye prince let out a groan when Jaenara's hand hit the side of his head with great force, the hit was harder than any of her others making Aemond squeeze his shut again and hope that she stops.

Jaenara look down at Aemond out of breathe, she blinks as her vision clears up. She sees her husband with his arms up and blocking his face, his chest heaving too from everything that happened. Jaenara looks down at her throbbimg hands before glancing at Aemond, when she put two to two gather, she slide off him and stumbled off the bed putting her back to him.

As Jaenara stumbles away in a daze, Aemond slowly gets up and look over at his wife as she fell onto the couch and hunch forward putting her hands in her hands in distress.

Jaenara couldn't stop shaking, she didn't know what was going on with her. She didnt understand where all this anger was coming from, she never had that feeling before in her life not even when her mother would leave without her to visit her Rhaenys and Corlys. She was never like this, she never lose control. Everything felt confusing and she felt like she was beginning to act like her mother.

"Jaenara."

The young princess flinch when she heard her name, she pull back and look up to see her husband. The redness around his left cheek made her heart clench in her chest, she look up to face his anger and wrath. But, she was only meet with was Aemond soft lilac eye as he gaze down at her with a concern look.

Jaenara had to turn her eyes away before he could see any tears spill out, she didn't understand how he could look at her after what she did.

"Jaenara, please don't cry." He beg as he take a seat on the cushion next to her.

He move his hand to put on her mid back but she just move away from him, making him frown.

"Why." She whispered as she stare vacantly at the fireplace before them.

"Why, what, my love."  He ask, moving closer to be by her, his hand went to her own on her lap and squeeze.

Jaenara sniffs and moves back so her back could be resting on the couch, before she looks over at Aemond with a meek look.

"Why did you do this to us?" She asked with hint of defeat in her tone, Aemond sat frozen taken back, "Why? We could have been happy with different people, we could have spare each other the heartbreak, and  the tears, and the lonely nights--"

"My love, I know I have made mistakes, too many to even allow me in your graceful presents." Aemond moves to kneel in front of Jaenara, looking up at her with desperate look, "But, I am trying to atone for it, my love. I am trying to undo my foolishness, and show you that you are the only one for me." Aemond says, but he could see the doubt in her sweet eyes.

"How can I think I am the only one, when your first love is now carrying your child." Jaenara says in distress, making aemond cast his eye down, "How can I feel secure in our marriage, when all I can think about is...is the fact that she's carrying your true son."

Aemond look back at her.

"We still are not sure if that child is mine, and if it is than I will not claim it to be." Aemond put his hand on Jaenara's belly, he look at at it for a moment before looking at his belove, "I made a promise to you, did I not? This child is mine and nothing or no one can tell me or make me think otherwise."

Jaenara sigh, even through his words brought assurance in one part of her heart, the others parts were still so doubtful of his words.

"As much as I appreciate your your words, Aemond. They still do not make me feel like we are good for each other."

Aemond frown and his hand slide off her stomach as he leans back to fully take her in, Jaenara could see the heartbreak in his eye at her words but she knew it had to be said.

"That is not true." He whispered.

"Isn't it?" She asked, "Or did you forget what happened not five minutes ago, it is obvious my emotions are not in order right now and I fear I am turning into my mother." Jaenara admitted sadly, "I have made a grave mistake bringing us here, I thought being away would bring me solace but instead i have made our life here miserable, yours mostly." She said lowly.

Aemond shook out of his heartache at Jaenara's pain and brought his hand to Jaenara's hand to hold.

"It is not your fault, it's just the baby growing inside you." He reassures, but Jaenara only shook her head.

"Or maybe, it just us."

Aemond's heart clench in his chest again, he could see that he was losing her. All this time he thought the worst was over, he thought after all the games he played and pain he caused his belove. That the gods finally was giving him a chance to redeem himself, but he sees that is not the case.

"You know that's not true, we were meant to be together." He breathed, "I always known it, it was written in the stars." He lean his head against his entwine hand with hers.

Jaenara put her other hand on his head, she slowly start to caress his hair.

"I wish that was true."

Aemond lift his head causing Jaenara take her hand from his head, he looks up at her with misty eyes.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew the dreams I had." He said, making Jaenara look at him confuse, "Dreams that you could see and remember clear as day, dreams that showed you what could of been if you made the right choice in the beginning." He bluster on.

"Aemond--" Jaenara starts with conflicting emotions.

"I dreamed of you every night, I was young when I realize what they were telling me," Aemond confessed, before his demeanor change from fondess to regret, "But, I...I made a choice that lead me to lose my eye, to you hating me...and getting hurt, and all I did was blame you and your brothers for what became of me."

"I was already the black sheep because I didn't have a dragon of my own, after I lost my eye and gain the biggest dragon that lived, I was a monster. If they didn't fear me because of my dragon, they avoid me like the plague because of my hideous scar." He huffed as a look across his face before disappearing, "I never felt more alone than I did that day at Driftmark, and the only person that never made me feel that way again was Alys, she was my first and only, when I was with her I wasn't thinking. I was just...there."

Aemond frown his brows in thought at what he just said, Jaenara stare at her husband in disbelief. She never knew that Aemond knew Rivers for that long, she always assume they meet a year or two before Jaenara came to King's Landing to marry Aemond.

"Is that why you never wrote me? Because you were in love her."

Aemond shook his head at the misunderstanding.

"I did not think you wanted to talk to me after what i did to you that night in the cave," His eye downcast in regret, "...hitting you with that rock destroyed me, but seeing you not moving killed me inside..." he confess with tears, jaenara move her hand so her index finger can brush over the scar on the side of her temple.

She remembered that night vaguely, everything happened so fast and the last thing she remembered was hitting one of her cousin in the face with her elbow.

"...and I was so angry with you, I felt like you betrayed me when you chose your brothers over me and I hated your brothers for being the reason you hated me. I was too angry and too full of hatred to try to rekindle, so I went with aegon to fleabottom and I meet Rivers."

Jaenara looks away from him, she knows what his saying ahouldn't make a difference on how she feeling, but it's hard to ignore what is in front of her.

"Jaenara, please know that I am sorry, I never meant to allow my affair with Rivers to drag on longer than it should have over the years. Once i stop dreaming of you, I assume that was a sign from the gods that I made my choice and I lost you forever." Aemond expressed, as a last ditch effort to get Jaenara to see the truth about them.

He wanted to know that they were always meant to be together, he always believe in the dragon dreams that was told to him when he was a boy. He made sure that in every dream he sees Jaenara, he would make sure to look for a dragon, because than that when he knows that him and her still had a chance.

Aemond felt a warm hand on his cheek bringing him out of his throat to look at his belove wife in front him, Jaenara smile a little, before she pull her hand away to wrap her arms around his shoulder pulling him to her. He was caught of guard that he had to shift on his knees to hug her less awkwardly, he put his hand on her back and rub, she buried her face in his shoulder inhaling his scent before turning her head to the side facing away from his face.

"I think im ready to go home now."

[theetherealbloom]

Whole Package, Babe, I Like The Way You Fit

Summary: Holiday beach trip with Pedro and friends.

Or, that one new Pedro shirtless pic…

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Beach Trip, Light Blood, Scratch, Ocean, Swimming, Swimwear, Shirtless Pedro, Light SMUT, Spicy, Sweet, Implied SMUT, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: The mf decided to give us shirtless Pedro and suddenly I have the will to live again LMAO. Weirdly enough, I am also at the beach while writing this so it’s kinda a funny coincidence… Imagine if we were at the same beach, that would be so funny (He can never know my existence I might die.)

No one ask me how I knew what hotel they were staying at. I scare myself too dw.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Juno by Sabrina Carpenter

| Main Masterlist |

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — DAY

The warm tropical breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean as you stepped onto the soft, powdery sand of the secluded beach Pedro’s friends had chosen for the Christmas getaway. The sun kissed your skin, palm trees swayed lazily overhead, and the gentle rhythm of waves provided the perfect soundtrack for a holiday escape.  

The group—Lauren Alexander, Brandan Campbell, Omar Apollo, and Pedro’s ever-charismatic agent, Franklin Latt—had already claimed a prime spot near the water. Lounge chairs were lined up under brightly colored umbrellas, a massive cooler sat brimming with ice and drinks, and Omar was enthusiastically attempting to set up a speaker while humming the latest tune stuck in his head.  

Pedro lagged a few steps behind you, carrying your beach bag and his, though his attention wasn’t on the task. It was on you.  

When you shrugged off your airy cover-up, revealing a stunning red bikini that hugged your curves just right, Pedro froze mid-step. His sunglasses couldn’t hide the way his jaw tightened or how his eyes darkened as they roamed over you.  

“Everything okay there?” you teased, tilting your head as you caught him staring.  

Pedro blinked, visibly gathering himself. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” He cleared his throat, but his gaze didn’t waver. “More than fine.”  

You smirked, adjusting the straps of your bikini for good measure. “You’re staring.”  

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, taking a step closer. His voice dipped, low and husky. “You look... breathtaking.”  

A flush crept up your neck, but you refused to let him win so easily. “Not too bad yourself,” you quipped, lightly poking his chest. His white linen shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of his tan skin and the gold chain that rested against his collarbone.  

Pedro chuckled, the sound warm and intimate. “If I’d known you’d be wearing this, I’d have hired a bodyguard to keep everyone else from looking.”  

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”  

He leaned in, his hand brushing against your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “Stop being so cute, or I might never let you leave my sight,” he murmured.  

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you teased, your voice playful but your heart racing.  

“Both,” he said, his grin widening as he pulled back to admire you once more.  

From nearby, Omar let out a loud whistle. “Pedro, are you gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna help us with this speaker? Some of us want to vibe to music!”  

Pedro groaned, turning reluctantly toward the group but throwing an arm around your shoulders as he led you over. “Fine, but only because she’s coming with me,” he called out, earning a round of laughter.  

As you settled into the setup, the sun beamed overhead, and the carefree energy of the group was infectious. Pedro stayed close, his arm brushing yours as you helped Lauren unpack snacks, and his eyes never strayed far from you.  

At one point, Franklin handed you a coconut with a straw and a cheeky smile. “Best way to stay hydrated,” he said, winking.  

“Cheers,” Pedro said, clinking his coconut against yours. He took a sip before leaning closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But if you spill even a drop, I’m licking it off you.”  

Your cheeks burned as you nearly choked on your drink. “Pedro!” you hissed, swatting at him.  

He grinned, unapologetic. “What? I’m just being practical.”  

The day unfolded in easy laughter and warmth, with the sun high overhead and the turquoise ocean sparkling like a field of diamonds. Pedro carried you on his back through the shallows, his hands gripping your thighs as you pretended to be his commanding officer.  

“Faster, soldier!” you commanded, leaning forward and tugging gently at his ears as if steering him.  

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” he called back, mock-serious but laughing as he jogged through the water, sending small waves splashing around you both. “Anything else, ma’am? Should I do some push-ups in the sand too?”  

You grinned wickedly. “Push-ups? I’d like to see you try—with me on your back.”  

Pedro stopped abruptly, twisting his head to glance at you with a raised brow. “Oh, you think I can’t?”  

“I know you can’t,” you teased, leaning down to press your cheek against his.  

He smirked, suddenly spinning in place. “You’re asking for it now.”  

Before you could protest, he dropped into the water with a dramatic splash, sending you tumbling off his back and into the cool embrace of the ocean.  

“Pedro!” you shrieked, surfacing with a gasp and pushing your wet hair out of your face.  

He was already laughing, standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips, his soaked hair plastered to his forehead. “That’s what you get for doubting my strength!”  

“Oh, you’re so dead!” you shouted, lunging toward him.  

Pedro yelped playfully, backpedaling but not fast enough. You caught his arm, laughing as you pulled him down into the water with you. The two of you wrestled like kids, splashing and laughing so hard your stomach hurt.  

“Truce! Truce!” he called out, holding up his hands in surrender as you pelted him with another wave of water.  

“Do you admit defeat?” you demanded, a triumphant grin on your face.  

“Never!” he declared, darting forward to grab your waist. Before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you around in the water.  

“Pedro!” you shrieked, laughing and trying to wriggle free.  

“You wanted a soldier,” he said, his voice full of mischief, “and now you’ve got one!”  

You finally stopped struggling, letting your arms drape around his shoulders as he held you close. The laughter faded into something softer, the two of you catching your breath as you stood chest-deep in the water.  

His hands slid down to your hips, steadying you as he gazed at you with a look that made your heart flutter. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.  

The way he said it, like it was a simple truth he’d always believed, made your cheeks warm despite the cool water. “You’re just saying that because I’m soaked and ridiculous-looking,” you replied, biting back a smile.  

“No,” he said, leaning in so his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”  

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant at first, like he was savoring the moment. The kiss deepened quickly, his arms pulling you closer until there was no space between you.  

When you pulled back for air, Pedro’s eyes were dark, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “You’ve got this effect on me,” he admitted, his voice husky.  

“Oh yeah?” you teased, though your voice wavered with the same breathless energy.  

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands sliding up your back. “And I never want it to go away.”  

For a while, the rest of the world melted away. You stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the ocean rocking gently around you. He kissed you like he was memorizing every detail, every taste, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, feeling completely and utterly adored.  

At one point, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “If this is what it feels like to surrender, I’m never fighting again.”  

You laughed, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “I think I like you defeated.”  

“And I think I like you here, in my arms,” he replied softly, his lips brushing against your temple.  

The sound of your friends laughing and splashing in the distance barely registered. For now, it was just you and Pedro, lost in a world of sunlit kisses and salty skin, the ocean your only witness.  

The group gathered in a loose circle, each person holding a large green coconut decorated with colorful straws and tiny paper umbrellas. The warm, golden light of the late afternoon sun bathed everything in a soft glow, making the moment feel like a scene out of a postcard. Omar crouched to capture the perfect angle with his camera while Lauren struck a dramatic pose, tilting her head back and raising her coconut like it was a chalice of the gods.  

“Lauren, you’re doing the most,” Franklin said, shaking his head but smiling as he adjusted his sunglasses.  

“Darling, I am the most,” Lauren shot back with a wink, drawing laughs from everyone.  

Pedro, standing just behind you, pulled you snugly against his side, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. “C’mon, let’s show them how it’s done,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.  

Franklin, standing in front with his phone, held it up. “Okay, lovebirds, your turn. Smile for the camera!”  

You turned your face toward Pedro’s at the exact same moment he turned toward you, and the laughter bubbled up before either of you could stop it. Your foreheads bumped lightly, and you both dissolved into giggles, the kind of uncontainable joy that made your chest feel light.  

“Oh, my god,” Lauren groaned theatrically, pointing at the two of you. “Are they even real? Look at them, they’re in their own damn rom-com!”  

“Y’all are embarrassing,” Omar chimed in, snapping pictures anyway. “But keep doing whatever that is because it’s disgustingly cute.”  

Pedro’s grin widened as he tilted his head toward you, his nose brushing against yours. “You’re ridiculous,” you said through your laughter, feeling your cheeks warm under the attention.  

“And you’re perfect,” Pedro replied, his voice low but playful, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk.  

Franklin groaned loudly, still holding up his phone. “For the love of all things holy, just kiss her already! We’re trying to make memories here, not watch a slow-burn romance unfold in real-time!”  

Pedro raised an eyebrow, glancing at the group before looking back at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What do you think, Hermosa? Should we give them what they want?”  

You laughed, pretending to ponder. “Hmm… maybe. But only if you make it a good one.”  

“Challenge accepted,” Pedro whispered, and then his lips were on yours, soft but sure. The kiss was sweet and unhurried, the kind that made everything around you fade into the background.  

“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it,” Lauren shrieked, clapping her hands together like a giddy child.  

“Finally!” Omar exclaimed, snapping several pictures in rapid succession. “This is going on the Christmas card.”  

“Make sure you get my good side!” Pedro joked, pulling back just enough to shoot Omar a wink, his arm still secure around your waist.  

“I don’t think you have a bad side,” you teased, your eyes meeting Pedro’s.  

“Ugh, stop!” Franklin groaned, clutching his chest dramatically. “This is too much. I need a drink—and not out of a coconut. I’m going straight for the tequila.”  

Everyone burst into laughter, the lighthearted teasing filling the air as the moment was immortalized with photos, laughter, and a shared sense of joy. Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your temple as the group continued to banter.  

“They’re just jealous,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with affection.  

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at the warmth in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’m not sharing, so they can stay jealous.”  

Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because neither am I.”  

The heat of the day softened into a golden, languid warmth as the two of you found refuge under the shade of a broad umbrella. The beach stretched endlessly before you, the waves lazily licking at the shore. Pedro reclined in a beach chair, his book propped open on his lap. The faint breeze tousled his hair, a few stray strands falling over his forehead, and the way he absentmindedly pushed them back sent a flutter through your chest.  

You leaned against his side, your legs stretched out on the chair beside him, the perfect picture of ease. With one hand, you held your favorite romance novel, its dog-eared pages evidence of how many times you'd read it. With the other, you traced patterns along the inked lines of his tattoos. Your fingertips moved slowly, savoring the ridges of muscle and warmth beneath his skin, as if committing every part of him to memory.  

Pedro’s free hand slid into yours, threading your fingers together with a natural intimacy that still made your heart skip a beat. He didn’t look up from his book as he murmured, “Everything feels right when you’re with me.”  

The sincerity in his tone made you pause, your eyes lifting from the words on the page. A small smile tugged at your lips as you squeezed his hand gently. “I know the feeling,” you replied, your voice soft.  

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes when you’re entirely at ease with someone. The distant laughter of your friends mingled with the rhythmic crashing of waves, creating a serene soundtrack to your stolen moment.  

Pedro finally set his book down, slipping a receipt in as a placeholder. His gaze shifted to you, lingering in a way that made your cheeks heat even before he said a word.  

“You know,” he began, his voice warm and teasing, “you’re kind of amazing.”  

You tilted your head, meeting his eyes with a playful arch of your brow. “Kind of?”  

Pedro chuckled, his smile widening. “Okay, more than kind of. Very. Incredibly. Like, the kind of amazing that makes me wonder what I ever did to deserve you.”  

You closed your book, setting it on the small table between your chairs. Turning slightly, you rested your chin on his shoulder, your fingers still entwined with his. “Pedro, where’s all this coming from?”  

He shrugged, but his eyes were soft, almost vulnerable. “Just thinking. Watching you. It hits me sometimes how lucky I am. How lucky I feel to be the one sitting here with you.”  

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “You’re the one everyone loves. The kind, talented, ridiculously handsome Pedro Pascal. If anything, I’m the lucky one.”  

Pedro leaned closer, his free hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re wrong about that. Don’t get me wrong—I like myself just fine,” he teased, earning a laugh from you. “But you? You’re everything. Smart, funny, compassionate. And don’t even get me started on how beautiful you are.”  

Your cheeks flushed, and you tried to deflect with a teasing grin. “Oh, so it’s just my looks, huh?”  

“Not even close,” Pedro said, his voice dropping to a softer, deeper tone. “It’s the way you talk about your favorite books like they’re old friends. The way you laugh with your whole body. The way you care about everyone—how you make every room brighter just by being in it.”  

“Pedro…” you whispered, your throat tight with emotion.  

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger,” he added, his grin returning. “Omar can’t go ten minutes without asking if you need something, and Lauren keeps calling you her ‘new favorite person.’”  

You laughed, brushing at your cheeks as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry.”  

Pedro’s expression softened further, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if to catch a tear before it could fall. “If I do, they’d better be happy tears. Because, cariño, I love you more than I ever thought was possible.”  

Your breath hitched, and you leaned into his touch. “I love you too. So much.”  

For a moment, the world around you faded into the background. Pedro leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and tender, like a promise. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“Promise me you’ll always stay this close,” he said, his tone carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place.  

You smiled, your hands cupping his face. “I promise. Always.”  

Pedro’s heart swelled at your words, and though he didn’t say it out loud, a plan began to take shape in his mind. He pictured the perfect ring, the perfect moment, the perfect way to ask you to spend forever with him.  

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said softly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.  

You didn’t need to say anything else. The way you melted into his arms, the way your fingers found his once again, said everything. For now, this was enough. But in his heart, Pedro knew it wouldn’t be long before he made good on the promise his soul had already made: to love you, always.

The late afternoon sun bathed the beach in golden light as you wandered back into the water. The waves lapped gently at your legs, warm and inviting. Lost in the tranquil rhythm of the ocean, you didn’t notice the jagged rock just below the surface until it grazed your shin. You winced, feeling the sharp sting before brushing it off as nothing.  

You emerged from the water, the salty breeze brushing against your skin. Pedro, lounging nearby with a half-finished coconut drink, immediately sat up. His eyes darted to your leg, catching the small but noticeable trail of red trickling down your shin.  

“Are you bleeding?” His voice carried that signature mix of concern and urgency that only Pedro could make sound so endearing.  

You glanced down, surprised to see the cut. “Oh.”  

“Oh?” Pedro’s tone was incredulous as he practically leapt from his chair, already reaching for the towel draped over the back. “That’s all you have to say? Oh?”  

“It’s just a scratch, Pedro,” you said with a small laugh, trying to wave him off. “I’m fine.”  

But Pedro was having none of it. He crouched in front of you, his warm hands circling your calf to keep your leg still. The towel dabbed gently at the cut, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re not allowed to get hurt on my watch,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.  

“It’s barely a paper cut,” you teased, watching the way his features softened even as he fussed over you.  

“Doesn’t matter.” His voice was firm, though his touch remained impossibly gentle. “What if it gets infected? What if—”  

You laughed, cutting him off. “Pedro, it’s not like I got bitten by a shark.”  

He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “Don’t joke about that. I’d fight a shark for you, you know.”  

The sincerity in his voice, paired with the completely ridiculous statement, made you laugh even harder. “Oh, I’m sure you would,” you said, brushing your fingers through his damp curls.  

“Don’t test me,” he quipped, finally satisfied that the cut was clean. He reached for the small first-aid kit Franklin had insisted on bringing, pulling out a bandage. “Hold still.”  

“Seriously?” you asked, your amusement growing.  

“Seriously,” he said, shooting you a look that dared you to challenge him. He peeled the adhesive back and smoothed the bandage over your shin with a precision that would make a surgeon proud.  

“There,” he said, sitting back on his heels and surveying his work with a nod. “Good as new.”  

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but smiling all the same.  

“And you’re reckless,” he shot back, standing up and pulling you into his arms. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what happens.”  

You leaned into him, your hands resting against his chest. “I think you’re overreacting. It’s a scratch, Pedro.”  

“It’s your scratch,” he said, his voice softening. His fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours. “That means it matters to me.”  

Your heart did a little flip at his words, and you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “You know how you’re like—”  

“Absolutely embarrassingly in love with you?” he cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips.  

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, that.”  

Pedro leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I am, you know,” he said, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Completely, hopelessly, embarrassingly in love with you.”  

Your teasing melted away as you cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over the scruff of his jaw. “Good. Because I’m absolutely embarrassingly in love with you too.”  

His smile grew, and he kissed you softly, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, no more rock fights, okay? You’ve got to take it easy on me.”  

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll do my best. But no promises if a shark shows up.”  

Pedro groaned dramatically, lifting you off your feet as he carried you back to the lounge chairs. “If a shark shows up, I’ll negotiate with it. Tell it I’m already your protector and it can’t have the job.”  

You giggled, nuzzling against his neck. “Sounds like a good plan. My hero.”  

He set you down with exaggerated care, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “Always,” he said simply.  

And as the two of you sat there, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, you felt it again—that perfect, undeniable feeling of being home.

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — SUNSET

The sunset painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and deep indigo, casting a magical glow over the beach. The group sat in a loose circle, their laughter and conversation mingling with the soft crash of the waves and the mellow strumming of a guitar Omar had picked up. The mood was serene, the kind of calm that felt like it could stretch forever.  

Pedro sat behind you on the sand, his strong arms wrapped securely around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel the soft puff of his breath against your neck. His warmth enveloped you, a perfect contrast to the cool ocean breeze.  

“You cold, cariño?” Pedro murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.  

“Not even a little,” you replied, turning your head to catch his eyes. They sparkled, reflecting the fiery colors of the horizon.  

His fingers traced slow, idle circles against your stomach. “Good. Can’t have you shivering out here, not when I’ve got two perfectly good arms to keep you warm.”  

“You’re too good at this,” you teased, smiling as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.  

“Good at what?” he asked, his tone playful, though his eyes held that familiar, unspoken intensity that always made your heart skip a beat.  

“At making me feel like the luckiest person in the world,” you said softly.  

Pedro’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your temple. “That’s funny,” he murmured, “because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”  

The golden light of the sunset cast a halo around his face, and you couldn’t help but reach up, cupping his cheek as you brought his forehead to yours. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say things like that.”  

“You’d better not,” he said, his voice warm and teasing, though there was an edge of vulnerability beneath it. “Because I’m not planning on stopping.”  

“I’ll love you forever,” Pedro whispered, his lips ghosting against your ear as the first stars began to peek through the darkening sky.  

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze fully, the world around you falling away. “You promise?”  

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. “I promise,” he said, his voice steady and filled with so much certainty it made your chest ache in the best way.  

His lips found yours in a kiss that was soft and lingering, filled with a sweetness that felt endless. When he pulled back, he pressed another kiss to your forehead before tucking you closer to him.  

The night deepened, and the group eventually wandered back to the cozy beachfront hotel. Pedro’s hand never left yours as you made your way to your shared room, the two of you moving in quiet, comfortable synchronicity.  

Inside, the room was dimly lit, the glow of a single bedside lamp casting a warm, intimate light over the space. The sound of the waves was faint through the open balcony doors, and the scent of salt air mingled with the faintly floral perfume you’d spritzed on earlier.  

Pedro closed the door behind you and turned to face you, his expression soft but unmistakably intent. “You know,” he said, stepping closer, “I meant it. Every word I said out there.”  

You tilted your head, giving him a playful look. “Even the part where you said you’d never get tired of me stealing the covers?”  

“Especially that part,” he said with a grin, his hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Though I might need extra cuddles as compensation.”  

You laughed softly, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “I think that can be arranged.”  

His grin faded, replaced by something deeper, more serious, as his eyes searched yours. “I love you,” he said, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything he felt. “So much that sometimes it scares me.”  

You leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you too. And you don’t have to be scared, Pedro. You’ve got me.”  

His lips claimed yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his hands splaying across your back as he pulled you closer. The kiss deepened, his lips parting to taste yours, and you felt the warmth of him everywhere.  

He backed you gently toward the bed, his movements unhurried, as if savoring every moment. The backs of your knees hit the edge, and you sank onto the soft mattress, pulling him down with you.  

Pedro’s hands roamed, his touch reverent as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down the column of your neck. “Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky.  

“You’re perfect,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly to bring his lips back to yours.  

His breath hitched at your words, and you felt the weight of his love in every kiss, every touch. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other, lost in a moment that felt infinite.  

Pedro pulled back briefly, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers laced with yours. “You’re my everything,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your heart full to bursting.  

And as the night stretched on, the love between you grew even deeper, wrapping around you both like a warm, unbreakable cocoon.

[andy-15-07]

The Father's Heart

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 2076| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the cozy kitchen. Y/n hummed softly as she flipped pancakes, the sizzle a comforting counterpoint to the gentle chatter of her family. Pedro sat at the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. Their youngest, Leo, a whirlwind of energy at eight years old, was attempting to build a tower out of cereal boxes, while their middle child, Mateo, fourteen and perpetually attached to his headphones, mumbled something about needing more syrup. Elena, their eldest, sixteen going on seventeen, was the last to arrive, a vision of effortless cool even in her pajamas.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Y/n greeted, placing a stack of pancakes in front of Elena.

"Morning, Mom," Elena mumbled, giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek. She glanced at Pedro, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes, before grabbing a fork and digging in.

Pedro watched her, his frown deepening. He’d been doing some thinking, some serious thinking, and he wasn't entirely sure he liked where his thoughts were leading him. He cleared his throat.

"Elena," he began, his voice carefully neutral.

Elena looked up, a question in her eyes.

"Your… friend, Ethan," Pedro continued, choosing his words carefully. "He's coming over later, right?"

Elena nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah, he said he'd be here around two."

"Two," Pedro repeated, the word hanging in the air. He glanced at Y/n, who gave him a subtle ‘don’t you dare’ look. He ignored it. He was a father. It was his job.

"So," Pedro continued, "what exactly are you two planning on doing?"

Elena’s flush deepened. "Just… hanging out," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"Hanging out," Pedro repeated again, the words laced with suspicion. "Doing what, exactly?"

"Dad!" Elena exclaimed, her voice rising in exasperation. "We're just going to watch a movie or something. Maybe work on our history project."

"History project," Pedro echoed, unconvinced. He knew teenagers. He’d been one himself, a lifetime ago. "What's this project about?"

"The French Revolution," Elena replied quickly, a little too quickly, Pedro thought.

"The French Revolution," he repeated, nodding slowly. "Interesting. Tell me, Elena, what was the primary cause of the French Revolution?"

Elena blinked, caught off guard. "Uh… economic inequality?" she stammered.

"And the Reign of Terror?" Pedro pressed.

Elena’s eyes darted around the room. "Robespierre… guillotine… lots of people died?"

Pedro sighed. "Elena, I’m not trying to grill you on your history project. I just… I want to know what you’re doing. I want to know who you’re spending your time with."

"Dad, I know you don't like Ethan," Elena said, her voice low.

"I didn't say that," Pedro countered, though it wasn't entirely true. He didn't dislike Ethan, exactly. He just… he was sixteen. Sixteen and full of… hormones. And Elena was his little girl. Always would be.

"You don't have to say it," Elena retorted. "I can tell. You’re always giving him the ‘look’."

Pedro knew exactly what ‘look’ she was talking about. The ‘I will disembowel you if you even think about breaking my daughter’s heart’ look. It was a work in progress, he’d admit.

"Elena," Y/n interjected gently, "your father just cares about you. He wants to make sure you’re safe and happy."

"I know, Mom," Elena said, her voice softening. "But I'm not a little kid anymore. I can make my own decisions."

"About some things, yes," Pedro said, "But some things… some things your mother and I still get a say in."

"Like what?" Elena challenged.

"Like… like who you spend time with," Pedro said. "Like… making sure you’re not getting into any trouble."

"Dad, I'm not going to get into trouble," Elena said, rolling her eyes.

"I know, honey," Pedro said, reaching across the island to take her hand. "I trust you. I do. But… Ethan… he’s a nice boy, I’m sure. But he’s still… young."

"So am I!" Elena exclaimed.

"That’s my point," Pedro said. "You're both still figuring things out. And I just… I don't want you to get hurt."

"Dad, everyone gets hurt sometimes," Elena said. "That's just part of life."

"I know," Pedro said softly. "But I don’t want you to get hurt unnecessarily. I don’t want you to make any mistakes you’ll regret later."

"I won't," Elena promised, though Pedro could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes.

"Okay," Pedro said, finally relenting. "Okay. Ethan can come over. But," he added, pointing a finger at her, "the French Revolution better be discussed. And," he added, glancing at Mateo, who had finally removed his headphones and was listening intently, "no funny business."

Mateo snorted. "Dad, please."

"I’m serious," Pedro said, his gaze sweeping over all three of his children. "I love you all. More than anything in the world. And I’ll do anything to protect you. Even if it means being the overprotective dad."

Elena smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. "I know, Dad," she said. "We love you too."

The tension in the room dissipated, replaced by a warm, comfortable silence. Y/n smiled at her family, a feeling of contentment washing over her. They weren't perfect, not by a long shot. But they were hers. And she wouldn't trade them for anything.

Later that afternoon, Ethan arrived, a shy, lanky boy with a mop of brown hair and a nervous smile. Pedro greeted him at the door, his ‘look’ firmly in place. Ethan swallowed nervously, but managed a polite "Hello, Mr. Pascal."

"Ethan," Pedro replied, offering a curt nod. "Come in."

He led Ethan into the living room, where Elena was waiting. "Hey," she said, giving Ethan a quick hug.

"Hey," Ethan replied, his cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.

Pedro watched them, his eyes narrowed slightly. He cleared his throat. "So," he said, "the French Revolution, huh? Big topic."

Ethan blinked. "Uh, yeah. We have a presentation to do."

"A presentation," Pedro repeated. "Interesting. What aspect of the French Revolution are you focusing on?"

Ethan looked at Elena, who gave him an encouraging smile. "We’re looking at the role of women in the revolution," he said.

"The role of women," Pedro repeated. "Fascinating. Did you know that Marie Antoinette…"

And so began a lengthy discussion about the French Revolution, with Pedro occasionally interjecting with historical facts and anecdotes. Ethan, to his credit, held his own, demonstrating a surprising knowledge of the subject. Elena, meanwhile, seemed amused by the whole exchange, occasionally rolling her eyes at her father’s over-the-top protectiveness.

As the afternoon wore on, Pedro’s ‘look’ softened. He could see that Ethan was a respectful young man, and that he genuinely cared about Elena. He still had his reservations, of course. But he was starting to realize that he couldn't protect Elena from everything. All he could do was offer her guidance, support, and unconditional love.

Eventually, it was time for Ethan to leave. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Pascal," he said politely.

"You’re welcome, Ethan," Pedro replied, offering a genuine smile. "Just… take care of her."

Ethan nodded. "I will, sir."

He turned to Elena, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I’ll see you tomorrow," he said.

"See ya," Elena replied, a soft smile playing on her lips.

After Ethan left, Pedro turned to Elena. "He seems like a nice young man," he said.

Elena nodded. "He is," she said.

"Just… be careful," Pedro said.

"I will, Dad," Elena promised. "I know you’re just trying to protect me."

Pedro smiled. "That’s my job," he said.

He pulled Elena into a hug, holding her close. She was growing up so fast. It seemed like just yesterday she was a little girl, playing with dolls and dreaming of being a princess. Now, she was a young woman, navigating the complexities of life and love. And he, her father, would be there for her every step of the way.

Later that evening, after the kids were in bed, Pedro and Y/n found themselves alone in the kitchen, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound. Y/n was washing dishes, while Pedro leaned against the counter, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"So," Y/n said, breaking the silence, "what did you think of Ethan?"

Pedro sighed. "He seems… polite. Respectful. Nice enough."

"But?" Y/n prompted, knowing there was a ‘but’ coming.

Pedro hesitated. "But he's still sixteen. And Elena… she's my little girl. It feels like just yesterday I was teaching her how to ride her bike, and now… now she's dating."

Y/n chuckled. "I know what you mean. It's hard to believe how quickly they grow up. It feels like just yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital."

Pedro nodded, a wistful look in his eyes. "She was so tiny. So fragile. And now… she's this beautiful, intelligent young woman. And I just… I don't want anything to hurt her."

"I know, honey," Y/n said softly, drying her hands and turning to face him. "But you can't protect her from everything. She has to learn to navigate these things on her own. We can guide her, support her, but we can't shield her from the world."

"I know," Pedro said, running a hand through his hair. "It's just… it's hard. Seeing her with him… it makes me realize how much time has passed. How quickly she's growing up."

"I feel it too," Y/n admitted. "But that's a good thing, isn't it? It means we've done our job. We've raised her to be a strong, independent young woman."

"I hope so," Pedro said. "I just… I don't want her to make any mistakes she'll regret."

"She will make mistakes, Pedro," Y/n said gently. "Everyone does. The important thing is that she learns from them. And that she knows we'll be there for her, no matter what."

Pedro nodded, his gaze softening. "You’re right. You always are."

He reached out and took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Thank you," he said. "For everything. For being such an amazing mother to our children. For… for putting up with me."

Y/n smiled. "You’re not so bad," she teased. "Most of the time."

Pedro chuckled. "I love you," he said, pulling her close.

"I love you too," Y/n replied, resting her head on his chest.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the silence once again filled with a comfortable warmth. They knew that the road ahead wouldn't always be easy. There would be challenges, and heartbreaks, and maybe even a few French Revolution debates. But they would face them together, as a family. And that's all that mattered.

A few weeks later, Pedro found himself having another conversation with Elena, this time about her future. She had been accepted to a summer program for aspiring writers, a program that would take her out of state for six weeks. Pedro was… hesitant.

"Six weeks?" he repeated, his brow furrowed. "That's a long time."

"I know, Dad," Elena said, "But it's an amazing opportunity. It could really help me with my writing."

"I know, honey," Pedro said. "It's just… I'll miss you."

Elena smiled. "I'll miss you too, Dad. But it's only six weeks. And I'll call you every day."

"I know, I know," Pedro said. "It's just… you're growing up so fast. It feels like just yesterday you were asking me to read you bedtime stories."

Elena laughed. "I still like you to read me stories sometimes," she admitted.

Pedro smiled. "I know you do," he said. "And I always will. No matter how old you get."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with love and pride. She was so talented, so passionate. He knew he couldn't hold her back.

"Okay," he said finally. "You can go. But," he added, pointing a finger at her, "you better call me every day. And," he added, his gaze softening, "be careful. Okay?"

"I will, Dad," Elena promised. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," Pedro said, pulling her into a hug.

He knew that letting her go was the right thing to do. It was part of growing up, part of becoming her own person. And as much as it pained him to see her go, he knew that he had to let her fly. All he could do was be there for her, waiting for her return, ready to catch her if she fell. Because that's what fathers do. They protect. They guide. And they love. Unconditionally. Always.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Blood Stained Hands and a Broken Heart (Dean W.)

Summary: Dean thinks he did the right thing when he slaughtered a pack of innocent vampires. You disagree.

WC: 505

Warnings: blood, angst, sadness

Read on Ao3!

--

The motel room smelled of whiskey and despair, a combination Dean Winchester was far too familiar with. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands trembling as he wiped the drying blood off his knuckles with a damp washcloth. The dim lamp cast long shadows on the cracked wallpaper, amplifying the silence between him and you.

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you watched him. His shoulders were hunched, weighed down by guilt and exhaustion. The sight twisted something deep inside you, but you didn’t step closer. Not yet.

“Are you gonna say something, or just stare at me all night?” Dean’s voice was rough, almost a growl, but it cracked at the edges as he looked at you.

Your gaze dropped to the washcloth in his hand, red streaks staining the fabric. You inhaled deeply, steadying your voice. “I don’t even know where to start, Dean. How about why?”

He flinched, his jaw tightening. “It had to be done.”

“Had to be done?” You took a step forward, your voice rising. “Slaughtering half a nest and walking away like you didn’t just—Dean, you didn’t even try to save them!”

“They were vamps,” he snapped, standing abruptly. His green eyes burned as they met yours, but you didn’t back down. “You know how this works. You hunt. You kill. End of story.”

“Not when they’re trying to turn themselves in,” you shot back, your voice shaking with anger and something more fragile. “They were surrendering, Dean. They wanted help!”

Dean ran a hand through his short hair, pacing the small room like a caged animal. “And what, you think they’d just stop drinking blood because they pinky promised? Grow up, Y/N! This world doesn’t work like that.”

Your heart clenched as you stepped into his path, forcing him to stop. “I know how the world works, Dean. But I also know you. This isn’t you.”

His laughter was bitter, almost a snarl. “You don’t know me, sweetheart. Not really.”

“Don’t do that.” Your voice softened, a pleading edge creeping in. “Don’t push me away just because you’re hurting.”

For a moment, the mask cracked. Dean’s shoulders sagged, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I don’t—” His voice broke, and he turned away from you. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

You hesitated before reaching out, placing a tentative hand on his arm. “Maybe you don’t have to fix it alone.”

Dean looked at you then, his walls crumbling as a single tear slipped down his cheek. “My hands... they’re too bloody, Y/N. I don’t think I can come back from this.”

Your heart ached, but you tightened your grip on his arm. “Then let me help carry some of it. You don’t have to do this alone, Dean. You never did.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken pain and fragile hope. Slowly, Dean reached up, his blood-stained hand covering yours. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was a start.

[i-heart-yellowstone]

A Boy Named Cooper Norris

Hello, my readers. This is a preview of a Yellowstone / Landman crossover idea that I had recently. Please let me know if you would like this to actually happen.

Raised Fair Share of Hell

Faith's pov

Walking on the campus I felt the wind blow up the back of my green dress. Thankfully I decided to wear leggings underneath it even if it was another hot day in Texas.  Frantically moving my head back and forth I knew that I probably looked like a fool not being able to even find my way back to my dorm room after leaving my family in the parking lot seeing as they had a long drive home.

Stopping on the middle of the sidewalk I turned the campus map in different directions in my hands hearing someone walking up behind me so I asked my question.  "Excuse me, could you point me in the direction of the East Wind dorm building?"

"I can show you something better than that.  My bed specifically." A guy tan with short black hair smirked quickly walking up and pushing my body up against the nearest campus light post.

I grunted against his tight grip on arms, dropping my backpack and map on the grass.  "Please let me go.  I - I don't know you.  I'm just looking for my dorm."

"You want me.  You want me by walking on this campus by wearing that dress.  I know it." The guy put his face closer to mine making me get even more uncomfortable.

Shaking my head I attempted to push him off of me but he was much stronger than I was.  "Please just let me go."

"Nah.  I'd rather have my way with you."

Another male voice joined the conversation causing me and the guy holding me hostage to turn our heads in the direction of the new voice. "The girl said to let her go."

"I wasn't asking for your permission." The stranger snapped at the other guy who had begun to take a few steps toward us.

The new guy who was wearing a red baseball cap with a big letter T on it.  He turned his hands into fists challenging the stranger.  "Clearly you didn't ask for hers.  Now you heard her, let her go before I make you."

"You're gonna make me.  Ha. Yeah right, little worm." The stranger dryly chuckled hiking up part of my dress

The other guy suddenly ran forward tacking the guy who previously had his hands on me.  The new guy wrapped his arms around the guy's waist slamming him down onto his back on the grass.  "I warned you once.  I don't want to have to warn you a second time." The guy who was bothering me moaned in pain, stumbling up to his feet.

"I'll remember this, worm." The stranger spat in his direction walking away and leaving the two of us alone.

Releasing a breath I didn't realize I was holding in I brushed my hands down my dress fixing it as much as possible.  "Thank you.  Um can I ask how you learn to fight like that?"

"I wrestle here at Texas Tech.  I haven't seen you around here before.  Are ya a new student?"

Tucking some loose hair behind my left ear I replied.  "I am actually.  My parents had to head back to our family ranch in Montana this morning.  And I um - don't even know where my dorm building is at."

"I can help you find it.  Oh here's your stuff back.  I'm Cooper by the way.  Cooper Norris." He reached down scoping my backpack and map into his hands while introducing himself with a weak smile on his lips.

I smiled sliding my backpack onto one shoulder eyeing his face seeing he had dark brown hair tucked underneath the Red ball cap and dark green eyes.  "I'm Faith, Faith Dutton."

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Montana." He chuckled, gesturing with his hand with me standing beside him where we appeared to be almost the same height.  "Come on, your dorm should be just around this next corner."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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