#usermyfandomprompt
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"That's how I roll"
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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON 2 OUTFITS
#hotd#ewan mitchell#usermyfandomprompts#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#alicent hightower#rhaenyra targaryen#corlys velaryon#rhaena targaryen#baela targaryen#outfite#medieval outfit#asoiaf#house of the dragon season 2#aegon tagaryen#aegon ii targaryen#olivia cooke#tom glynn carney#matt smith#emma darcy#steve toussaint#bethany antonia#phoebe campbell#costume
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This is how I imagine this scene in my head. I feel robbed. (Fortunately, I wrote about it long ago, bless be fanfics.)
Beautiful fanart, at least we got a visual now.
Bye, Tom Bennett ❤
Uncle Tom saying his goodbye 🥲
We could have this 😭😭😭
#tom bennett#work of art#wof fanart#cyeco#you made some juicy butt here#ewan mitchell#usermyfandomprompt
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Devotion
Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x Reader - Part 3 (Final) Read Part 2 Here Chapter Summary: Before the men head off to war yet again, Osferth and Reader share a romantic night to themselves. Words: 5.9K
Chapter Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content 18+, Smut, Loss of Virginity, Fingering and overall shenanigans
A/N: Word of the wise - Osferth takes his time with his sweet little virgin. Strap in for the long haul kiddos 🔥
💙 Beta read by the wonderful: @sylasthegrim
💙 Beautiful gif by the one and only: @myfandomprompts
In the aftermath of the battle, you and Osferth take Finan’s horse in search of your brother and sister. The tension in the air is palpable as you scour the forest, calling their names, hoping to find them unharmed. After what feels like an eternity, you stumble upon a small clearing deep in the woods and discover them safe and sound.
Your sister sobs the whole way home, overwhelmed by the terrifying ordeal and you gather her in your arms, whispering reassurances in her ear as she rides in front of you in the saddle on Osferth’s white horse. Your brother sits stoically in front of Osferth, a vision of bravery for getting his sister to safety. Even though you are exhausted and weary from battle, you finally feel complete as the four of you make your way back home.
The atmosphere in Rumcofa is somber and heavy with grief. The massacre of innocent Danes has shaken the town to its core, and a sense of fear and uncertainty hangs in the air. The place that once felt like home, a sanctuary, no longer seems safe. Worry grips your heart; you are unsure how long Uhtred and his men will call this town “home” and you feel safest being wherever they are. The uncertainty makes you feel insecure about your immediate future.
A few days go by and Lord Athelhelm’s evil plot finally starts to unravel. Osferth and Finan rush to Uhtred’s side as the Saxon and Dane armies converge to straighten out the misunderstanding that had pitted them against one another in the first place. It had not been Danes that had killed Lord Athelhelm’s daughter like he wanted everyone to believe but rather his own scheme gone awry; she sacrificed herself to save the visionary he had intended to kill in order to sow discord between Saxon and Dane. But in the chaos of the battle that followed, he escaped to Bebbanburg.
The men briefly return to Rumcofa, mainly to gather their remaining strength before marching on Bebbanburg to bring Lord Athelhelm to justice. You know Uhtred has longed to liberate Bebbanburg from his cousin, Lord Wihtgar, for many years and with the King’s assistance he is finally getting the chance to reclaim his birthright.
Will it ever stop? you wonder to yourself as you help Ingrith prepare dinner for them that evening. Will war ever stop for these men? All you wanted was peace and for them all to be safe at home in the arms of their loved ones and families.
Upon their arrival back home, Osferth had officially asked Lord Uhtred for your hand in courtship and Uhtred, as wise as ever, had smiled and said, “I will leave that for the lady to decide.” Of course, you had happily accepted, finally being able to declare your love for each other and be an official couple, filling a void that had been in your hearts for a long time. You can tell Osferth feels the same.
The evening before their departure to Bebbanburg is bittersweet. Knowing that Osferth will be leaving on the morrow for battle once more, you've resolved to savor this precious evening with him, cherishing the moments you have together. Curled on the gray fur blanket next to the fire crackling merrily in the hearth, you listen intently as he reads verses of The Holy Book to you.
You watch him read, admiring the sharp shadows on his face from the firelight. Your eyes trace the length of his nose and the shape of his strong jaw and chin; he licks his thumb to turn a page, reading aloud all the while, oblivious to your adoring gaze, and you suddenly feel something stir deep within when you see his pink tongue dart from between his lips.
You crawl over to him on the fur rug, and gently place your hand on top of the page, causing him to stop at your distraction. He looks up at you questioningly.
“Perhaps that’s enough reading for tonight?” you ask lightly, giving him a sweet smile.
“Of course, my lady,” Osferth marks his page and closes the book, stretching to put it on a nearby table. He returns his attention to you.
“Well, we have the night to ourselves, what would you like to do next?” he asks you innocently with bright eyes. Both of your siblings are staying at Astrid’s tonight. She promised them lots of fun and games, a needed reprieve for the children after a hard couple of weeks, while giving you a knowing wink.
“I think I have something in mind,” you try to say in your best sultry voice, feeling more confident than you really are. You reach out and grab Osferth by the collar, bringing his lips to your own. He immediately understands your intentions and, after a moment, gently pulls back.
“My lady, please, there is no rush…,” he starts to say but you stop him by putting a finger to his lips.
“Please, Osferth?” you ask, eyes wide, begging him with your gaze. “Truly, I want you…before you have to leave again.”
He sighs and considers you, torn by his feelings and sense of responsibility. “I want you too,” he confesses with longing in his voice. “I have wanted you for a very long time, but I would never pressure you. There will be plenty of time for that.”
“Will there be?” you question sharply, “Nobody knows what the future holds, Osferth, not even the gods. Mine or yours.”
He takes a deep breath, leveling you with a steady stare and you feel compelled to confess to him.
“Osferth, I… I have not been with anyone else in that way,” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I am yours.”
You see his breathing pick up as the weight of your words settle upon him, his eyes searching yours.
“You are still a maiden?” He swallows as you nod, confirming what he had suspected but didn’t know for certain. He blinks rapidly as he absorbs your words.
“My lady…what you offer me, you can only offer once. You cannot take it back once it is done. I am honored, but are you sure?”
You nod, having never been more sure about anything in your life. “Osferth, you have held a treasured place in my heart since I was a girl. I cherish you above everyone else,” you pause to take a deep breath, laying your emotions bare, “Please….I belong to you and have for a long time.”
His face softens with affection at the sincerity of your words, warmth seeping out of his blue eyes and he responds with a confession of his own.
“And my heart belongs to you, for longer than you know,” he says softly, surprising you by the duration of his affection and depth of his devotion. His words flow freely now, as if he has been waiting for this moment. “I have watched you struggle and bear the weight of womanhood long before your years. You have always triumphed in anything you set your mind to. I admire you more than you know and have for a long time.”
He leans towards you, gently cupping the side of your face with his hand, his thumb tracing your cheekbone and the faint scar left behind from Bresal’s blade. Your heartbeat picks up wildly as you stare with adoration into each other’s eyes. He rests his forehead against yours and you breathe each other in; time seems to stand still as you share this intimate moment together, lost in the confessions of love.
You lose track of how much time has passed, deciding to prompt him further by leaning up and whispering against his lips, “Please, allow me to truly be yours.”
Whether from your words or actions, you finally seem to break his resolve as he returns your kiss, his mouth opening under yours.
“I promise to be gentle,” he breathes, finally verbally acquiescing before resuming your kiss. For a moment, you enjoy languidly the taste of each other’s tongues as he pulls you into his lap, straddling him, and you immediately run your fingers through his hair, kissing deeply.
Your heartbeat picks up in this new position, never having been so intimately wrapped around a man before; it is all so new to you. Although you have imagined this scenario for so long, it seems to have come upon you so suddenly. You realize you felt braver going into battle than you do at this moment, intertwined around Osferth.
You spend some time exploring each other’s mouths, moaning lightly as he shifts his position, bringing you down to lay under him on top of the furs. He hovers above you, using his arms to support his weight as you spread your legs to allow him to settle within the cradle of your hips.
His smell surrounds you as he continues kissing you for a while more, taking his time. Decidedly more impatient than he is, you reach for the cinch of his alb, eager to undress him. He allows you to untie it, and then removes it with your help, left only in his breeches. He lowers himself back onto you, and you can feel the heat radiate from his bare torso through your simple dress. You start to explore his body with your hands, running them up his sides and down over his strong back muscles, repeating the pattern.
Osferth suddenly rolls you over until you are on top, and you sit on him tentatively, unable to ignore the bulge you feel in his pants that's pressing against your center.
“I cannot be the only one undressed,” Osferth says easily, a smile tugs at his lips as he reaches for the ties at the front of your dress. Slowly, sensually, you help Osferth remove your dress, the intricate laces and extra layers adding an additional step of difficulty. Finally, you pull your dress and shift up over your head, baring yourself before him, nipples hardening in the cool air, left only in your smallclothes on your bottom half.
Your heartbeat races as his eyes devour your body and you desperately try not to feel self-conscious. His big, hot hands run up your hips, over your ribs and across your back. You arch into his embrace, reveling in the warmth of his hands, feeling the calluses on his palms, knowing those same hands have dealt death to many men in battle yet are being so gentle on your soft skin now.
His thumb skims down over your nipples briefly, getting you used to his touch. His hands make another circuit down your ribs and up your back before sliding down to your breasts once more; his large hands cover them completely as he gives them a gentle squeeze, kneading softly. You whimper, closing your eyes to his touch, unable to help grinding on top of his covered length as his attention to your breasts builds your arousal, an ache forming between your thighs.
He lets out a soft grunt as you continue to rub yourself upon his growing bulge. Suddenly, he flips you back over, the naked skin of your back now laying upon the soft fur blanket and kneels between your thighs.
“Have you ever seen a naked man before?” he asks and you shake your head no.
He seems to have expected this, shifting to take off his breeches and bare himself to you. Your eyes widen when you look upon his impressive length and your brain suddenly jumpstarts, that’s supposed to fit inside me? Hard and heavy, his cock stands erect between his legs and it draws your eye; you can’t help but stare at the veins and the way the head seems to weep. Your gaze flits over his moderate patch of hair and finally his balls; they look taunt from the strain of his standing cock and you wonder what they feel like to touch.
Your trepidation must have shown clearly on your face, for Osferth no longer kneels between your legs but lies at your side.
He grabs your chin and looks you in the eyes, “We’ll go slow,” he promises as he places a soft kiss on your lips.
You nestle into the soft fur of the blanket, the heat of the fire and of Osferth’s skin keeping you plenty warm. You continue to kiss for a few more moments, the kisses becoming deeper and more heated and you try to ignore the way his heavy cock presses against your thigh. Suddenly, his hand comes up and rests on your leg and you immediately tense at the sensation. You know what is coming and it both terrifies and exhilarates you.
For a couple of strokes, Osferth simply rubs your outer thigh, getting you used to the sensation of him touching you more than he ever has before. As you relax under his touch, you arch your back, sighing into his mouth as you press your chest into his, enveloped in his warm embrace. The heat of his skin settles you, calms you. He continues for a few more moments, hand moving from your thigh, sliding up and over your ribs and down your back before finally caressing your breasts again.
The ache between your legs continues to grow, but it’s not an entirely new sensation, you had felt desire before. You find yourself craving his touch and wanting more.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes as he starts to trail kisses down your neck and over your collarbone, finally putting your nipple in his mouth and sucking, kneading the other breast with his hand. You push your breasts into his face and moan, delighted at these new sensations. You rub your thighs together, hoping for some friction as Osferth still has yet to touch you there.
He works his way back up your body, kissing your lips and you revel in his touch, running your fingers through his hair, pulling at the back of it a bit, urging him on. Osferth had promised to go slow and slow he was going. You decide to help him pick up the pace a bit.
You are still far too intimidated to touch his length but you take his hand and lead it between your thighs, feeling bold. He breaks the kiss and gives you a small smirk.
“So impatient,” he whispers, hand stilling on your center, not giving you the friction you crave. “Lie back for me.”
You roll from your side onto your back as Osferth easily removes your smallclothes and your naked body lies on the fur on full display. Osferth shifts closer to you, propped up on one arm as his hand trails down your stomach and up one thigh. You mewl pathetically, begging him with your sounds where you want him to touch you.
A smug smile lifts the corners of his sensuous mouth; he knows exactly what he is doing and how to tease you as he trails his fingers along the inside of your other thigh. You squirm and begin kneading your breasts, his eyes flicking up to watch you touch yourself and finally he relents from his torturous teasing as his fingers come to lightly trail over your silky slit.
Your breath hitches at his touch, as he parts your lips with his fingertips and explores your folds, dipping down to your entrance, gathering wetness onto his fingers. You close your eyes, unable to meet his gaze, bashful now as he touches your most intimate parts.
“Is this what you want, my lady?” Osferth asks playfully in a deep voice.
You bite your lip and nod, focusing on the sensation of his fingertips as he begins to circle your bud expertly with the pads of his fingers. You mewl, spreading your legs wider for him to access your core.
“Have you ever touched yourself before?” Osferth whispers in your ear. You keep your eyes closed and nod again, too shy to see his expression when you admit to pleasuring yourself. You had even brought yourself to orgasm from time to time. But no man has ever made you feel as good as this.
“Good, then you are at least familiar with this,” he mutters, mostly to himself and you relax at his approval.
After a few moments, you start to pant as his adept fingers increase the pace on your bundle of nerves. You moan as Osferth shifts his fingers down to your entrance and he tentatively pushes one inside of your tight velvet walls, slowly working you open.
You gasp a little, eyes snapping open, fingers gripping the back of his hair, holding him close, his lips on your neck. His finger is much longer and thicker than your own and your back arches off the floor at the sensation of him inside of you. His intrusion doesn’t hurt, your pussy is well soaked by now as he moves his middle finger in and out of you gently. Your breathing picks up as lewd squelching noises mix with the crackling of the fire, sounding loud in the quiet room.
He manages to lift his face from your neck, a feat considering how hard you are clinging to him, and watches your face as he explores the inside of your pussy with his finger, his heavy-lidded eyes dark with lust.
You pant, eyes glazed, staring up at him as he watches your face. After a few more gentle pumps you feel him withdraw only to feel a slight stretch this time as he pushes two fingers into you. Eyes widening, your breath quickens at the unfamiliar sensation, hands moving down to grip his shoulders, eyebrows knitting together as you adjust to this new feeling.
He immediately stops when he sees your slight frown. “Does it hurt?” he asks, voice soft. You shake your head and bring your lips up to his, and he gives a satisfied groan into your mouth as you continue to feel him moving inside of you, feeling your walls, as if he is searching for something.
It isn’t until electricity explodes from your core and straight into your heart that you realize he found whatever it was that he had been searching for. You are unable to maintain your kiss, panting and moaning and he crooks his fingers repeatedly against a sweet spot deep inside of you, a spot you didn’t even know existed. Somewhere in the far recesses of your mind, you wonder how he already knows your body better than you do.
He sets a steady rhythm, pumping his fingers while curling them slightly, consistently hitting your spot of pleasure, overwhelming you by the intense sensations he is pulling from your body.
After a minute, he pauses his ministrations, giving you a small reprieve and you moan loudly, breathing heavily.
“My lady, close your eyes and focus on the pleasure,” Osferth instructs in a whisper and you do as he bids, letting him consume you as he begins again, picking up the pace. His palm constantly rubs your pearl and soon you start to feel something intense building deep inside of you, stronger than you’ve ever known before. You focus on the pleasure, your breath starting to come in quick gasps as the tension builds. Suddenly you find yourself babbling uncontrollably, begging Osferth to continue his pace, willing him not to stop.
Ecstasy explodes from your core, traveling to the tips of your fingers and toes as you cry aloud, legs trembling as your cunt clenches down on Osferth’s fingers, reaching a level of pleasure you have never known. Osferth continues to work you through your peak until you are on the brink of overstimulation, finally withdrawing his hand, leaving you panting on the floor next to him. As you try to regain your composure, you open your eyes, mind blissfully blank, and stare at the wooden ceiling of your cozy cabin.
You turn your head to look at Osferth next to you and he raises his eyebrows.
“… what was that?” you ask breathlessly.
“Did you like it?” he asks innocently with a cocky smirk as if it wasn’t perfectly obvious that he had just given you the greatest pleasure of your life.
All you can manage is a giggle; you’re at a loss for words. You hear him chuckle too, low under his breath beside you as he shifts. Looking down, your heartbeat picks up again as you notice that he has grasped himself in hand, using your slick from his fingers to coat his thick length.
“Are you ready?” he asks softly and a tingle goes up your spine as adrenaline spikes in your veins again. You find yourself trembling, not from fear, but from anticipation.
You find that you can not speak, only nod as you finally realize what is coming. His fingers were one thing but his length still looks just as alarmingly large. You know you want him inside of you but you are apprehensive of the pain you are sure to feel, even after your incredible peak.
Osferth moves to hover above you once more, his slim hips resting on yours. He gives you a deep kiss as he lines himself up with your entrance and you break the kiss once you feel him pressing there; you can’t seem to concentrate on doing two things at once as you tense, wondering how on earth he is supposed to fit. Osferth pushes the head of his cock into your opening, stretching you fully for the first time.
You immediately suck in a sharp breath at the pain and he instantly withdraws, looking down at you with concerned eyes.
Shivering a little underneath him, you whimper, “Osferth, how is it supposed to fit?” a note of worry in your voice.
His eyes soften as he understands the source of your concern. Leaning down, he gives you a sweet kiss while shifting his weight to one elbow, his hand comes up to smooth your hair away from your face in a reassuring gesture.
“My lady, you have to relax,” he says in a soothing whisper. “There will be some stretching but most women seem to enjoy it. A sharp pain means you are too tense or not wet enough and I do not think we have to be concerned with the latter,” he chuckles a little at his joke as he guides you through this.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks gently, giving you a way out.
You shake your head quickly, you have come this far and you aren't stopping now.
“Breathe deeply for me,” Osferth counsels wisely and you do as he says. He leans down and kisses your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he tries to distract you again as he guides the head of his cock into your pussy once more.
This time he doesn’t stop as the head of his cock spears you open and he continues pushing in, sliding slowly, inch by savory inch. Again you can’t maintain the kiss, focusing on the stretch, his eyes scan your face, watching for any signs of pain. The stretch is intense, more so than what you were expecting. You close your eyes, eyebrows knitting together, focusing on allowing him deep inside of you, panting and trying to breathe through the new sensation. Above you, Osferth gives a small groan as he tries to push in as slowly and gently as possible without causing you undue pain.
Finally, he bottoms out inside of you, bodies fully flush together and he stills, allowing your walls to adjust to his girth.
“There,” he breathes, nose brushing against yours, “the hardest part is over.”
You nod, hanging on to every word as he kisses you again and begins thrusting very softly in small, rocking movements.
In a few moments, you find yourself relaxing as you get accustomed to the stretch and it starts to feel quite nice. You find you quite like the feeling of his thick cock dragging along inside your walls, filling you up, completing you, making you feel whole, joined together as one at last.
Your hands move to explore his shoulders, sliding down along his back muscles and over his toned arse and you boldly push his butt down, causing him to sink a little deeper inside of you and causing you to gasp. Osferth smirks, seeming to enjoy your little noises as you experience everything for the first time. The feeling of fullness is heavenly as he slides back and forth, slowly increasing his pace.
You start to meet his thrusts as you relax into his rhythm. Encouraged by your movements, he picks up the pace, increasing both your pleasure and his.
You pant and mewl underneath him as tension builds deep in your core, radiating from your pussy through your whole body. Encouraged from your lusty moans, Osferth starts to pump in and out of you in strong, smooth strokes, the sound of your skin slaps together erotically.
“My lady, you are so perfect,” Osferth grunts as his own release starts to build and consume him, “I am sorry but I will not last very long.”
Having not known how long it was going to last anyway, you don’t respond, continuing to meet his thrusts and whine underneath him.
He rolls his hips into you a few more times, both of you breathing hard, consumed by the pleasure, when suddenly he withdraws, taking himself in hand and pumping quickly until thick pearly ropes of spend shoot out and coat your stomach.
You lay panting, instantly missing the loss of the fullness you felt when he had been inside of you. As the warmth of his spend seeps into the tender skin of your belly, Osferth leans back over you and gives you a sultry, deep kiss, one of love, adoration, and passion.
“You did so well,” he praises before moving away to get a wet washcloth.
As you wait for him to return, a million thoughts start racing through your mind. You were finding the ending rather anticlimactic. It was over fairly quickly, you think. Is it always so fast? Wasn’t he supposed to spill his seed inside of you?
You hear Osferth’s footsteps pad quietly back over to you on the worn wooden floors and lay still as he wipes his spend from your stomach. You watch as his eyes, at first focused on his task, flit from your belly to your breasts and then shift downward where you’ve brought your knees up, thighs together. He gently touches your thigh and his eyes flick up to meet yours.
“Sweet one, it is normal for ladies to bleed a little after their first time,” Osferth says with a little trepidation but ever so tenderly. “I do not want you to be alarmed if you did not know. Would you allow me to clean you up?” he asks sincerely, holding up the wet linen cloth.
You hesitate, this gesture somehow seems much more intimate than what you had just done together. You did, in fact, know that bleeding can occur when the maidenhead tears but you weren’t sure if you had bled. He had been so gentle, aside from the stretching, you hardly had felt any pain.
Slowly, you nod and open your legs a little, feeling self conscious. Will he care if there’s blood? What will he think if there is? You didn’t want him to think less of you or be disgusted by something you couldn’t control. What if you didn’t bleed? Will he think you lied to him about being a virgin?
Osferth folds the cloth over to a clean side and wipes your still sensitive folds, being much more gentle than you would have been. The coolness from the wet cloth feels nice on your slightly sore skin and you allow your knees to fall to the side more, giving him easier access. You watch his face, admiring the profile of his sharp nose and strong jaw while his eyes focus on cleaning your most intimate parts.
You find that you can’t help but ask. “Did I bleed?” you say in barely a whisper, feeling afraid of the answer.
“A little,” Osferth replies, seeming totally unphased.
“Oh, I- I’m sorry,” fear colors your voice and you attempt to close your legs, to hide the embarrassing sight but Osferth stops you, a frown in between his eyebrows as he looks up at your face and pushes your legs apart again.
“My lady, it is completely natural, please do not be ashamed,” he finishes wiping and then suddenly spreads your legs much wider. Before you can stop him, he leans down and places a kiss right onto your sensitive folds. Your breath catches at the sensation of his lips on your pussy, your eyes widen at the thought of his face down there. Head still between your thighs he looks up at you smugly.
“We will practice with my mouth another time,” he gives you a sly grin and your eyes pop. Laying the cloth to dry by the fire, he comes back up to snuggle you close, both of you still completely bare.
You lay in his arms, fingers running through his chest hair as your brain whirls. Your heart feels full; you feel contented, relaxed, and exhilarated that you just had sex for the first time and you feel more connected to Osferth than ever before. You had heard so many horror stories growing up and had been so sure that sex was a horrible and painful experience for all women. But you couldn’t have been more pleased with having the opposite experience. Aside from the little bit of pain as your body welcomed him inside of you for the first time, the stretching quickly grew quite pleasurable and you decided you had enjoyed your first time immensely.
You muse on all of this as Osferth holds you in his arms and now you feel like you can focus on his bare form. Your fingers slide over his toned pecks, tracing down his abs. Your gaze is level with Osferth’s neck muscles and collarbone and, unable to help yourself, you lean in and kiss his neck, licking at the salty skin and enjoying his taste. Surprised, he pulls away and looks down at you.
“Can we do it again?” you ask, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
He smirks and makes a humming noise deep in his chest.
“There is much for us to explore…as long as you are sure you do not feel sore, yes, my lady, we can do it as many times as you like,” he places a sweet kiss on your lips.
“Osferth?” you ask again, unable to help yourself.
He raises his eyebrows, staring at you, showing he is listening.
“Why did you not spill inside of me?”
He blinks in surprise. “I would have thought it obvious,” he shifts to look better at you. “My lady, you are so young and already have two small children to care for. I could not bring myself to add the burden of another, especially since we are off to battle again soon,” he states simply and the thought of war momentarily chills the warm air, an icy reminder of what is soon to come.
He continues, “But when you are ready and we are more settled, then I will happily give you my seed, and watch your belly swell with my child, if that is what you wish.” He runs his hand over your flat stomach as if imagining it.
You nod, complex emotions running through your mind. He is trying to save you from raising another child alone, yet you want nothing more than to possess a piece of him. Should things go badly in battle, you cannot help but feel he should leave a part of himself behind. You lay quietly as he begins gently rubbing your side, conflicted by this sudden intense desire while recognizing the logic behind his words.
Heat starts to build between your legs again as he continues to absentmindedly rub your back. You give him a sweet kiss on the lips, kissing along his jaw and he moans softly at your tender touch. You boldly nip at the skin of his neck, initiating the second round of lovemaking.
He obliges you, kissing you deeply as your bodies melt together as one again, moving much more quickly than before. He puts you on top this time, grasping your hips and rocking you upon his thick length as he thrusts up into you from below.
Your orgasm starts to build, spurred by the constant stimulation of your bud along his pubic bone. You can feel your muscles tense as the coiling tension builds within you, driving you higher and higher, filthy words escape from your lips, gone mad with passion or perhaps just crazed with lust; you almost don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice as you exclaim how much you love his cock inside you, how badly you want his seed, how you can’t wait to grow round with his child…As your peak crashes over you once more, your core clenches down on his length and you beg him to finish with you, to not pull out.
“Oh gods, yes….Osferth, please give it to me,” you scream in ecstasy as you come apart on top of him.
If he is surprised by the brazen words pouring from your mouth, he doesn’t let it show, instead seeming even more aroused by your emphatic display of passion. His breathing is harsh as he thrusts harder and rougher within you, forgetting to be gentle until he stills inside of you with a groan, his thick cock pulsing within your soft velvet walls.
Coming down from your high, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, moaning ever so softly, “Yes, Osferth, give it all to me,” as you continue to rock gently on top of him, milking his cock as your walls continue to flutter around him.
He groans again, fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh of your hips and suddenly he flips you over while maintaining your connection, leaning down and capturing your mouth with his own, claiming you with his tongue as you wrap your arms and legs around him, holding him as close as you possibly can until his cock starts to soften inside of you.
You lose count how many times you make love that night and again in the morning before he departs. Your pussy feels deliciously sore, love bites and bruises mottle the skin of your neck and breasts from his lips and teeth. You love the marks he has left upon your body, feeling like they are a silent declaration of his possession, you belong to him now, just as he belongs to you.
In the doorway of your small cabin, you share a deep, passionate kiss with Osferth before he departs, the taste of him lingering on your lips. As you watch him walk down the frozen muddy lane where Finan waits for him with his horse (“My arse is freezing, Baby Monk!” he exclaims, playfully encouraging Osferth to hurry), your hand travels to your lower belly, cradling it, hoping your womb will quicken from his seed, wondering if new life will blossom from the love that you made repeatedly together. Your heart feels heavy, knowing that he faces the brutal uncertainties of battle. But such is the life of a warrior's future wife, a life marked by both love and the ever-present shadow of war. You hope, in time, there will be a place you can finally call “home” with Osferth by your side.
The End
Tags: @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @multyfangirl @cyeco13 @aemondsscar @chainsawsangel @boundlessfantasy @bellaisasleep @fan-goddess @pandemonium105 @megatardisbaby @gemini-mama @bcon24 @lexwolfhale @lauzy87 @arcielee @urmomsgirlfriend1 @iscocohere
#ewan mitchell#tlk osferth#osferth the last kingdom#osferth tlk#osferth x reader#osferth#baby monk#the last kingdom fanfic#aethelstan the last kingdom#usermyfandomprompts
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Ewan freaking Robert Mitchell. Will be on a stage. In Latin America. With another member of the cast.
After a year no, HALF a year without showing himself?
I mean. I didn't ask anything for Christmas but that's a LOT guys.
Ewan softest voice ever Mitchell answering questions?
... he does look magnificent on a stage though. Ma-gni-fi-cent.
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ALICENT HIGHTOWER & RHAENYRA TARGARYEN
Gif Dump X
#alicent hightower#hotd#house of the dragon#usermyfandomprompts#rhaenyra#rhaenyra targaryen#alicent#olivia cooke#emma d'arcy#gif dump#because I don't like them#But I won't do more so I figured I'll just post them#Hair#hands
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I loved it so much, felt like such a good ending.
"Since I went away, I’ve had this feeling right here,” he placed a hand beneath his heart. “It hurts so much, worse than when they shot me, but I can’t help but enjoy it. I know you’re laughing at me now, because we both know what’s causing it [...]"
I loved this, SO much. It's so well written and you're amazing, as always!
I will be there to make you gif sets whenever you like me to, always a pleasure for talented people.
The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Eighteen
Tom Bennett x OFC
[Masterlist]
Warnings: Minor smuttiness (smutty thoughts? is that a warning?)
Word Count: 3.9K
Note: Thank you so much to amazing @myfandomprompts for creating the banner for this chapter! Not only do they keep us fed with amazing EM gifs, they make beautiful things like this. Such an honour to have it begin this chapter, thank you!
Every now and then, Tom kicked the football beyond the reach of Mrs Mason’s children and their friends. Watching as they hurried up the street after it, calling and laughing, Tom took a minute’s pause to admire the two women sat in the doorway of his father’s house.
His sister, Lois, sat in the sun on a chair that Vernon had brought out from the kitchen. The dark hair she inherited from their mother was pulled back away from her face and the glow of new-motherhood shone about her bonny cheeks. Vernon stood stoically behind her, laughing freely if a little awkwardly; he had been raised by private schools and the air force. Hovering on doorsteps with babies as the world and their wife cooed over the little one was as far away from the world he knew as could be. Still, he was a damn sight better than Harry, with his brooding and joyless honour. Both Lois and Vernon’s faces were turned towards the woman on the doorstep, and the little bundle she cradled in her lap.
Bess’s hair, darker now that the summer sun had faded, was loose and uncurled, a simple scarf keeping the bulk of it away from the baby. A few strands fell forward from her shoulders, and Tom chuckled as a fat little hand reached up from its blanket to grasp at it. Whatever Bess was babbling to his niece, Tom didn’t know, but Lois and Vernon chortled. She seemed not to notice, completely caught up in the little life she had helped bring into the world. Her pale fingers curled around the little one’s, and Tom found himself momentarily jealous as she ran her thumb across the little knuckles.
A strange stillness came over him then, quite different to that which he had experienced since coming home to Bess. Where his arrival into Bess’ arms felt at once electric and sure, this new-found contentedness seemed to well deep from the spot between his naval and his heart. He tried to trace the feeling, watching Bess play with his niece and mulling over how it could feel old and new at the same time. The first signs of an answer dawned on him and he felt a brief swell of mortification, as though he had failed at a basic sum, when something else entirely hit his chest.
“You little tyke!” Jan hurried away from Tom, shrieking with glee and muttering apologies about sending the football flying into the man. Tom caught up to the little boy with ease and heaved him off the ground. Tucking him under one arm, Tom darted between Mrs Mason’s children as they ran after him, their game of football now a rugby match with Jan as the ball.
“Mam used to say that girls become women, and boys become bigger boys,” Lois said to Bess as they both watched Tom deposit Jan by Mrs Chase and run away in mock celebration.
“She’s not wrong,”
“But we wouldn’t change them, would we?” Lois nudged Bess’ shoulder with her foot.
“That we wouldn’t.” Bess tore her eyes away from Tom and back to the babe in her arms. It was at this moment that Fergal shouted from across the street.
“Tom! Vernon! Give us a hand!” Along with Douglas and Roger, Bess’ father strained to push the old upright out onto the street. Bess handed baby Bennett back to her mother and took out a packet of cigarettes from the pocket of her slacks. She offered one to Cora, who had joined from across the road, but she declined and the three of them watched as Tom, Roger and Vernon helped their fathers with the piano.
“The state of you three,” Dot said as she appeared at Cora’s side. “I’ve never known three such headstrong women forget their principles the moment a fella flexes his muscles.”
“You will one day, Dot.” said Cora distractedly.
“If you keep your mouth shut,” added Bess and Dot gave her a shove. Bess smiled at her sister then, with cigarette jauntily perched at the edge of her mouth, made her way to the piano. She patted Douglas on the back with a whispered thank you, and kissed her father on the cheek. All but one man dispersed as she sat at the stool and began to play the first few notes of In a Mellow Tone.
Tom perched next to her and watched Bess’ fingers skitter over the keys a moment before whispering in her ear. “Are you ok?”
She nodded, eyes focused on her fingers as they navigated the particularly hard movement of the pre-chorus. “Don’t worry about me, go and have fun” she whispered, before adding with a shout as he made to leave. “And save me a slice of cake.”
“I’ll save two,” Tom kissed her cheek quickly and made his lazy way towards his father, who stood chatting to Robina Chase.
The Vaughns were determined that today should be a happy one. If their mother were here, it’s what she would have done. The day would have been Albie’s 22nd birthday. In life he was bright, kind and mischievous. The sort to sweep all the ladies into a dance, regardless of their age, play with the children and charm the gentlemen. In death, why should they remember him by just their sadness? No, instead there would be bread and cheese, and a homemade cake, the inhabitants of the street sharing their ration books to make the day a happy one.
“Have a dance, Mrs Chase?” Bess watched from the piano as Tom held out his hand with a wry smile. The austere woman stuttered a little and looked to Douglas for help, but he simply smiled. “I won’t take no for an answer, Mrs.” Robina took him in, the curved lips, the sweep of dirty blond hair and the cocksure confidence that oozed from every pore. Somewhere, in the boyish youth of his face, she could make out Douglas. When Tom held his hand a little closer, his smile growing to dimple his cheeks, Mrs Chase relented.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about the Bennetts, it’s that they’re nothing if stubborn. Each and every one of you.”
“Aye, and my old man’s the worst so you best watch yourself.” Before Robina could retort, Tom took her in his arms and gently waltzed her around the street, between the other couples of Cora and Roger, Jude, Hattie and their farmers, even Queenie and Frank. Vernon had left Lois, while she fed the baby, to twirl around one of Mrs Mason’s little girls as she stood on his toes. Bess watched them over the lid of the piano with barely supressed happiness. Everyone she loved, and was growing to love, assembled in one place and one piece to help them through the day. Tom swayed with Mrs Chase near the piano and Bess spoke through and exhale of smoke.
“He’s not bad, is he, Mrs Chase?”
“I’ll tell you, Mrs Chase,” Tom spoke to her instead of Bess. “It’s nice getting to lead for once. You know what these Longsight lasses are like.” A charmed laugh, not dissimilar to a startled sparrow, escaped Robina’s lips and Tom winked at Bess over her shoulder. She watched him admiringly through her dark lashes and Tom drew his bottom lip between his teeth. Oh, the things that crossed his mind when she looked at him like that.
By four o’clock, only stragglers were left at the little street party. Mrs Mason’s children had long since vanished inside, exhausted from keeping up with Tom and Jan, who was saying his goodbyes as Mrs Chase attempted to hurry him into the car. Cora appeared from the house with a slice of cake wrapped in tissue for the little boy, and a box of Albie’s old toys. Hattie and Jude were dragging their fellas away, off to meet Roberta for dinner before they all went to the Palais, whispering crude suggestions in Bess’ ear about her new relationship with Tom. He stood with his father and Douglas, a bottle of ale in each of their hands, as Frank Smith made his goodbyes. Queenie Warren held onto his arm, giggling girlishly and no doubt thrilled at her position between the two men. Bess watched as she placed a manicured hand on Tom’s bicep and, as she laughed at something he said, he placed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Bess smiled to herself and made her way to the group. Sensing Bess nearby, Tom turned towards her. Frank, expecting Bess’ derision and, fearful of the woman she had become, began pulling Queenie but she wrestled from his grip and tottered to Bess.
“Earlier on, I could just hear your Albie laughing at Tom dancing with Mrs Chase.”
Bess laughed as Queenie took her by the hand. “I can hear what he would have said and all,”
“You’re in, Bennett.” Bess, Queenie and Tom said in unison. Douglas laughed, as did Fergal through a stifled sniffle.
“Ta-ra, Bess,” Queenie kissed her on the cheek. “Tom.” Tom placed his arm around Bess and watched as Frank led Queenie away. When the couple rounded the corner, Tom snaked his arms around Bess waist and brought her to him. She gripped Tom’s arms in surprise and a deep blush crept across her nose and cheeks. Tom leant forward, but before his lips could meet hers, Bess whispered in his ear.
“I still feel like we should sneak into the kitchen.”
Tom laughed and pulled back to look at her, arms still steadfastly holding her to him. “So you want to hide me now, hm?” Bess pecked the corner of his mouth, if only to wipe away the growing smirk that lingered there.
“You admit it then?”
“I just wanted you for myself,”
“Mm,” Bess relented, smiling into Tom’s mouth as he kissed her at last. Her arms made to move around his neck as he pulled her somehow closer and she sighed.
“Use your arms for something useful, boy, and help us get the upright inside.” Bess leapt back from Tom at her father’s harsh voice. “I can take back my permission you know.” Fergal stood from his chair and placed the empty ale bottle in Bess’ hands.
“Sorry, dadda.” She said meekly.
“Sorry, Fergal,” Tom said, though his boyish grin remained as he looked at his father. Much to Bess’ surprise, Douglas returned it with an amused smile of his own. Fergal clapped Tom on the back and the pair of them walked to the upright, Vernon and Roger already there and Douglas ambling towards them. Cora and Dot hurried from the front door as the men pushed the upright toward it and came to stand with Bess as she eyed the men, making sure they didn’t scratch Aunt Ida’s piano.
“Mrs Flaherty gave me a bottle of port to take to Mam,” Cora produced it from the pocket of her apron.
“And Mrs Mason’s little girl gave me these,” Dot held up a ragtag poesy of daisies and dandelions. Bess laughed as Dot raised her eyebrows at the flowers.
“I have ribbon left from Mrs Chase’s last order, in powder blue.”
“Mam’s favourite,” Dot sighed and Cora wrapped her arm around her.
“Will Tom come?” Cora said matter-of-factly. “Roger is.”
“I hadn’t ask-”
“He could see his mam too then,” Dot followed Bess’ eyes as she watched Tom push the piano from behind as the others guided it through the door.
“Come on, Bess. Tell him to come along. The Bennetts have always been family, it’s just official now.”
Bess nodded in surrender and crossed the pavement in a rouse to watch over the beloved piano, but in reality to speak with Tom. Pushing the upright over the threshold, he wiped his forehead and Bess took his hand, heart momentarily stopping as he looked at her with his sweat-coated brow and heaving chest.
✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼ ✼
The graveyard, despite being in the centre of the town, was overgrown with grasses, climbing clematis and the last of the summer’s foxgloves. In the haze of the evening, insects scattered their wayward dances above the tombstones and Father Michael moved amongst the sleeping dead, removing dead flowers from the graves. He nodded to the approaching family and made his way towards the rectory. Led by Fergal, the Vaughns walked to the centre of graveyard. A tombstone, visibly younger than its friends, stood beneath an old yew tree.
Etta Frances Vaughn
Beloved wife of Fergal
Devoted mother to Cora, Elizabeth, Albert and Dorothy.
Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine
A small, carved stone sat beneath it.
Albert Colm Vaughn
Their glory shall not be blotted out
Each of Etta’s daughters placed their gifts at her tombstone. Dot sat on the luscious grass that held Etta in its embrace and arranged the Mason’s flowers. Fergal popped the top off the bottle of port and took a swig before passing it around the gathered party. When it reached Bess, she drank from it deeply and handed it to Tom.
“What does that mean?” he whispered, indicating the writing on the grave and passing the port to Roger.
“‘In the shelter of each other, people survive.’ Mam through and through.”
It was true. Tom looked around at the family. Even with Albie gone, each of them shone in each other’s company, loyally defending and raising each other up. Even Roger, with his kind face and stoic heart, holding Cora as she began to cry, seemed to fit in. Tom watched as Fergal bent double with grief as Bess rubbed his back, keeping her own grief at bay to allow space for her father’s. The familiar feeling from earlier in the day took hold behind his naval and, swallowing thickly, he made his quiet way from them and towards the church. Father Michael opened the door of the rectory and saw Tom hovering by the church door.
“Hello Tom,” Tom merely nodded, his eyes cast down at the stone a few paces ahead of him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you here.”
“There’s a war on.” Tom said flatly. Father Michael considered him before continuing.
“Years, I’d say.”
Tom looked up at that, somewhat annoyed. “Well Father, I don’t know if I believe in anything these days. War, Him,” he pointed towards the sky.
“I don’t know, Tom,” Father Michael unlatched the oak door of the church and before moving into the cool dark said, “I think there’s something for everyone to believe in.”
The church door shut behind the priest and Tom waited a minute before speaking. “Priests are nosey bastards, aren’t they?” He looked down at the stone, as though expecting it to reply. He sighed and brushed some leaves from its top.
In loving memory of Mary “Marie” Bennett
Wife to Douglas
Mother to Lois and Thomas
In the Lord’s house for evermore
“How are you doing? I could almost hear you and Etta tutting at me from beyond the grave. Well, what do you expect? You’d say dad’s a lonely soul and could do with God, but once you were gone he stopped taking us to church. The Vaughn girls only go because it makes them feel close to their mam.”
Tom looked over his shoulder. The Vaughns were still gathered around Etta’s grave, Bess stood separately, stroking the bark of the yew.
“I’m glad you have a friend now, wherever you are. Dad and Fergal still keep each other company, I think they sit there pretending you’re both at their side. Somehow, the family is growing. I’m an uncle now, though I’m sure Lois has already been down to see you. She wants to name the baby after you. Dad’s worried she might take after us three and not him. He could do with someone on his side.” He laughed sadly. How often Douglas had compared Tom to his mother. He wondered if it made him happy, to see his wife in the eyes of his son.
“Whether Etta has told you, Lois, or you’re watching over me, I’m sure you already know about Bess, too. What do you think? God mam, I wish you were here. Since I went away, I’ve had this feeling right here,” he placed a hand beneath his heart. “It hurts so much, worse than when they shot me, but I can’t help but enjoy it. I know you’re laughing at me now, because we both know what’s causing it, but I wanted to tell you all the same. I want you to tell me what it is, to tell me that I’m right. Christ,” He hadn’t spoken to his mum for years. A twig snapped behind him and he looked round. Bess stood a few metres away, gazing softly at him, not intruding but making sure he wasn’t alone just like she had done all those years ago when she spotted him here before.
“I miss you, mam.” He held his hand on the stone above where she lay and closed his eyes. If he tried hard enough, he could smell her perfume and the shampoo she used. “Speak soon,” Tom trailed his way through the thick grass towards Bess. She wrapped her hand tightly around his and brought it to her lips. Her family were already passing through the graveyard gates, and Tom realised that she had given him time to spend with his mother. Walking alongside her, Tom watched the hue of her hair catch fire in the setting sun and his stomach flipped.
“Tom?” Bess looked up at him, her eyebrows a hard line, lips slightly parted in a smile and he realised he had been caught staring at her. When he said nothing but raised a quizzical eyebrow, she laughed. “Dancing at the Palais. Tonight. The girls are going and now Dot wants in.”
“And I suppose you do to?” he swung her hand in his.
“Well, you’re all warmed up after your dance with Mrs Chase. Please?”
“Fine,” he sighed dramatically but smiled. Bess kissed his hand once again and led him slowly after her family. They ambled the short mile back to Longsight, laughing gaily despite the melancholy of the day. At some point not far from home, conversation turned to the dance at the Palais, Dot complaining that she was without a permanent partner.
“Don’t you worry Dot, I’ve got a fella for you.” Tom laughed as she whinged to her father.
“Is he handsome?”
“Let me keep you at my side a little while longer,” Fergal patted Dot’s hand. “Bess and Cora will be gone soon.” He looked pointedly between Tom and Roger, and the two young men grinned.
“I’d say so, Dot. Norman’s his name.” Tom stopped abruptly, causing Bess to stumble at his side. “Norman! That’s who sent the letter!”
“What letter?” Cora and Dot said simultaneously.
“Nothing,” Bess and Tom’s answer was quick. Cora eyed them suspiciously but Dot seemed not to notice, skipping ahead of the group to unlatch the ginnel gate for Fergal and going with him into their house. Cora and Roger followed arm in arm and when Cora’s navy skirt fluttered through the gate, Tom pushed Bess against the brick wall. She laughed as his hand pulled at the collar of her jumper and began to pepper hot kisses to her neck.
“What’s come over you, Mr Bennett?”
“The dance,” he placed his leg between her and widened her legs. “Thinking about you all dolled up,” Bess sighed when his teeth grazed the junction between her jaw and ear. “The men watching you and knowing you’re mine.”
“It’s the girls that’ll have to watch themselves,” Bess fisted Tom’s shirt and pulled him closer, grinding her hips scandalously against his leg. “Now I’ve got you, I’m not sharing you.”
A sentence like that from Bess’ lips would have sent blood rushing to his cock, but today, that cavity behind his naval twisted once more. Tom scrunched his nose, inhaled sharply and looked down at her. Her eyebrows were pulled together in calm curiosity, stating “I know something happened there, but I won’t push you to tell me”. Free from makeup, Tom could see every blemish on her face, from the scar she got on her sixth birthday jumping off a swing convinced she could fly, to the mottled pink of her cheeks from their kissing. Through her lashes, her brown eyes looked up at him with grace and openness, and his body hummed beneath her knowing gaze. The feeling in his stomach tugged him towards her and, if he had been a sentimental man, he could have sworn the scent of his mother’s perfume blew through the ginnel, urging his courage. He pressed his forehead to Bess’ own and closed his eyes.
“Bess?” His voice was a whisper.
“Mm?” Her own eyes fluttered shut and her lips quirked into a contented smile. Tom inhaled again and all around him, the world was Bess.
“I love you.”
The air stilled. The war was worlds away. They might not have been standing in the back alley of a Manchester suburb, but on the moon. When Bess opened her eyes, her heart hammering tenfold beneath her breast, she saw Tom’s icy blue ones wide-eyed and fearful staring back at her. Had he ever told anyone he loved them before? Smiling wide, Bess placed a hand to his chiselled jaw, caressing the skin there.
“I’ve always loved you, Tom.”
Tom watched as Bess’ eyes glazed with tears, and the nerves tumbling about his stomach fizzled away, replaced by sparks of electricity. Something of the smug sailor roared into life at her words, and he smirked.
“Hard not to-”
Bess tutted and tried to smack him but he was too fast, cupping her neck with large hands and bringing her into a heady kiss. “Wear that red dress tonight,” he whispered as her tongue languidly brushed against his lips. “I need some fuel to take back aboard-”
Bess tugged at his hair and he moaned. “Tom Bennett, you scoundrel.”
He broke their kiss. “And tell your family you’ll be back at the flat tonight.”
“Is that so?”
With a smack to her bottom and a wink over his shoulder, Tom swaggered down the ginnel. “You’ll need your energy tonight, my love. Not just for the dancing.”
Note: So. That was the last chapter of Volume One! With the BBC showing World on Fire in the summer (I think July), it won’t be too long until we’re back with Tom and Bess again. Expect them to go back to their snarky, sassy selves, just this time they’ll be doing it side by side!
Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @heimtathurs @exitpursuedbyavulcan @myfandomprompts @allthefandomtherapy @reblogedworks @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @beiigegalx @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @mefools @aquakaris @its-actually-minicika @whoknows333 @arcielee @honeymaltgelato @girlwith-thepearlearring @fangirlninja67
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Ewan Mitchell in THE TONIGHT SHOW
10th July 2024
#ewan mitchell#usermyfandomprompts#aemond targaryen#ewan nation#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond#jimmy fallon#the tonight show
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The Conqueror's dagger
or ~a Song of Ice and Fire~
#ewan mitchell#usermyfandomprompts#aemond targaryen#ewan nation#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond#rook's rest#hotd spoilers#dagger#asoiaf#i loved every moment
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AEMOND TARGARYEN House of the Dragon S02E03 - "The Burning Mill"
#ewan mitchell#usermyfandomprompts#aemond targaryen#ewan nation#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond#hotdedit#hotd season 2
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Gif dump - Aemond Targaryen
| The Light & The Dark |
#usermyfandomprompts#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd edit#day and night#switch#beautiful hair#hair#eye#photography#aemond one eye#medieval#vhagar#rain#coin#counsel#violet eyes#purple eyes#targaryen#royals#season 2
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AEMOND TARGARYEN in Official Green Trailer
House of the Dragon (2024)
#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen#daemon targaryen#hotd#house of the dragon#usermyfandomprompts#oh my GOD#the greens#game of thrones#hotd season 2#ewan nation
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SUNFYRE
This cutie should have been protected at all cost
#usermyfandomprompts#hotd#house of the dragon#sunfyre#aegon targaryen#aegon ii#aegon#aegon ii targaryen#dragon#asoiaf#still haven't recovered#and I love Meleys with all of my heart#I just wanted him
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That's right, folks.
Some incredible lines, she got.
Welcome @myfandomprompts 💜✨
OUR NUMBERS ARE GROWING @assortedseaglass
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Harrenhal is the key to the war. The seat of House Strong.
MORTAL ENNEMIES 101
#ewan mitchell#usermyfandomprompts#aemond targaryen#ewan nation#hotd#house of the dragon#daemon targaryen#harrenhal#matt smith#rhaenys#rhaenys targaryen#aemond#daemon#spoilers#hotdedit
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"Her Grace", speaks with two tongues."
AEMOND TARGARYEN in S02E01
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