Warnings: Fem!Reader, Kissing (All), Cunnilingus (Alys), Drinking + Slight intoxication, PinV, unsafe sex (Aegon), Unsafe Sex (Aemond), Mean, slightly manipulating Ormund, Unsafe Sex, PinV, Slight overstimulation (Ormund), Soft Gwayne, Riding, PinV, Unsafe Sex (Gwayne), Not canon story, Nipple sucking, thigh grinding (Alicent), Not canon story but maybe still spoilers for S3??, Jaehaera mention!, cunnilingus + fingering , praising, (Helaena)
W/C: ~5,300
Banner Credits:@uzmacchiato
Alys Rivers:
You had lived in Harrenhal nearly your entire life, never having a reason to leave. You had everything you needed, food, water, a roof, and of course, Alys. You had been firm friends since the first time you’d met, despite everyone else's confusion, you two fit magically together and had barely spent a moment apart. It then came as no surprise when your relationship together had blossomed into something more. You two barely ever spent any time apart, your rooms were the closest they could be together (even if you spent most nights with her anyway) and every second awake was spent in her presence. Harrenhal was cold at night, that was one of the first things you’d remember telling Alys when you met, and it seemed even colder now without her presence beside you in bed. Tiredly, you sat up, stretching out your arms and blinking a few times. Your nightgown did practically nothing as you stepped out of bed, feet hitting the stone floor, a sigh escaping your lips as you settled into the cold around you. You knew where to find her, she nearly always went to the same place when she could not sleep, and so you pulled on your dressing gown and left her room. It was colder outside, and you could not help but shiver even through the heavy material on your shoulders, but it was all worth it when you found her standing under the Weirwood.
“Alys?” You whispered, eyes meeting hers as she turned to face you. “Are you not cold?”
She shook her head in return, eyes flitting back to the tree then back to you.
“I could not sleep, I needed to clear my head.” She spoke, and you moved closer to her, arms brushing. “I was thinking.”
“About?” You ask, eyes watching her face.
“Us.” It’s not what you expected, but you wait to hear her anyway. “I cannot imagine my life without you now, we have spent far too long together.”
You swallow at her words, skin heating up as she turns to face you again.
“I wouldn’t leave you.” You say, “If you’re worried.”
She shakes her head barely, her hair shifting over her shoulder.
“I wasn’t. I know you wouldn’t.” She steps closer, and you catch the faintest smell of herbs from her. “I don’t want us to be apart. I want to keep us together, to keep you forever.”
Your brow furrows barely, eyes darting over to the tree before you finally realise what she means. Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your ribcage, face burning with heat as you nod and whisper an ‘Okay’.
You’re happy to let Alys lead it, you’d probably be unable to get the words out even though you’d want to. You hold her hand tightly, accept her when she speaks and kneel together before the tree, the white nightgown stained a dark brown when you stand back up. You feel almost dazed as she leads you back inside, although you almost always feel that way around her, when she whispers about ‘finishing your ceremony’. She pulls you through the cold halls, back to her room, now both of yours room.
She’s quiet for a moment when the door finally shuts, eyes locked onto your face, like she’s taking you in when she finally brings her lips to yours. It’s gentle at first, lips pressed together, her hands holding you in place and your hands holding her forearms. You can’t help the quiet whine that slips out your lips as her kisses get deeper and deeper, more heated, and you let out a small whimper when you feel her smile against your lips and bite gently. You feel lightheaded when her hands start wandering, pushing your dressing gown off and then unbuttoning your nightgown. You shiver as the cold of the room reaches your skin, your own hands finally moving to undress your wife too. You let her push you down against the bed, leaning up onto your elbows as you watch her kiss down your body, biting gently against your thigh. You can’t help the way your head falls back and a sigh escapes your lips as she finally licks up your pussy. You can’t help the noises that escape you as she keeps her mouth against you, sucking your clit, your hand holding her there, her soft hair clutched in your fingers. Your thighs shake and close around her head as you get closer and closer, before you finally release.
You can't help but whisper as she slows down, "I love you, Alys."
You feel her smile, pressing a kiss to your thigh, "I love you too."
You watch as she kisses back up your body and you feel almost overwhelmed with emotion as she finally presses a gentle kiss against your lips. Your eyes are stuck to her as you both finally settle into your bed, pulling her close, finally warming up.
Aegon Targaryen:
Being picked as the bride for the heir was one thing, it was another thing when said heir was known for frequenting whorehouses and excessive drinking. You couldn’t help but panic every night up unto the wedding, especially when everyone looked at you with such pity since the engagement had been announced. Even worse, you’d not had a chance to meet Aegon before the ceremony. The wedding morning had been hectic, a flurry of maids coming into your chambers beforehand to ensure you’d been appropriately dressed to be presented before the future King. You’d never been dressed so exquisitely, the cloak over your shoulders the last remaining part of you, your house colours, hung over your shoulders as you stared into the mirror. The door opened, and you turned, your father stood waiting in the doorway, a proud smile spread across his lips as he offered you his arms. You’d never been awfully close with your father, all his attention mainly spread to your brothers and their training, but at this moment you clung to him as if he was going to disappear in the next minute.
The entire day was as if the Gods were against you, as he was gone from your arm within half an hour, now stood beside your future husband. He looked almost as fed up as you, dark circles under his eyes and a restless energy around him. The ceremony felt like you were taken out of your body as he took off your cloak and draped you with his house cloak, black and red enveloping you. You managed to repeat out the words the High Septon guided you with, hand now in your husbands as the ceremony finally concluded. The tenseness never left your body as you sat beside him in the hall, the feast continuing around you. Everyone else was in high spirits, drunk off expensive wine and dancing around. Despite the rich taste, you’d managed a few measly sips and chews before giving up, and your husband seemed just as tense beside you. You did not try to speak to him, unsure of what to say. It was futile anyway, with the most drunk of the lords finally reminding everyone of the bedding ceremony, for you two to finally consummate the marriage. Your skin burned as your ladies ushered you to the chambers, stripping you of your dress and into an almost see through gown, you felt out of place. Even more so when he finally entered the chambers, eyes barely reaching you.
The awkwardness felt overwhelming, like a suffocating cover over the two of you, and you’d never been a big drinker, but with the feelings brewing between you the goblet on the table had never seemed so appetising. Without thinking, you’d brought the goblet to your lips, taking two big gulps. The prior glass combined with this had you feeling a different kind of absent mindedness, a floaty feeling in your body as you walked over to him, finally offering him the goblet. You could not feel regret, not when he took it without a word, finishing it for you, and not when the alcohol was finally giving you the slight courage you needed. Aegon was everything you were not expecting, he seemed almost reserved the entirety of your wedding. He had barely spoken, only when prompted by others, and you’d noticed his downcast eyes every time you’d looked at him. You take the glass back from him gently, fingers brushing his as you put it on the table. The silence between you had become suffocating with your new found courage, so you took it upon yourself to find his hands, his hands warm in yours as you led him toward the bed.
“I have never done this before.” You admit, voice no louder than a whisper, and you watch as he simply nods slightly then swallows.
It seems almost hesitant as he leans in, lips pressing against yours, the kiss is messy, your hands coming up to his face. It seems nothing more than duteous as he pulls your chemise off, hands roaming over your skin. A sigh escapes his lips as your head hits the pillows, lips still locked onto his. There’s a brief pause as he sits up, pulling his shirt off. When his lips are back on yours, you can’t help but let your hands roam over his chest pulling a soft sigh from him. You pull him closer as he finally frees himself from his pants. The other ladies had warned you the first time would be painful, that the men never usually care anyway, that the act was only for the sole purpose of an heir. You forgot all those words of advice when he finally slowly entered you, a soft moan escaping you. Your hands gripped him, keeping him as close as possible as he thrusted. His face was addictive to look at, his expressions exactly what he was feeling as you watched him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek before locking your lips on his again. His thrusts got more erratic as he got closer, and your stomach tensed as you finally climaxed, his following shortly after as he pressed himself as close as possible. Once he’d finally moved off beside you, you turned your head, looking at him. Despite the lack of communication, you’d felt the night wasn’t all bad, especially with the amount of rumours about him, so it was no surprise when you’d moved closer to him, head resting on his chest. It was even less of a surprise when his arms closed around you.
Aemond Targaryen:
Your marriage had been planned before you could even have a say in it, years and years ago when you were barely a year old. Your father and the King had never been awfully close, but your mother and the Queen Alicent had known each other in youth, so it was no surprise when she had put forward the offer of you marrying the Prince Aemond. Despite this arrangement, you’d grown up quite happily, even with it looming over you, you’d grown to be well liked by the Lords and Ladies of the Keep. You were known for being kind, and happy, far too happy for someone betrothed to Aemond. Your betrothal had never been a cause of concern for you, you’d heard rumours about Aemond, and you’d met him once when you were younger, before he claimed Vhagar. You’d then heard through letters about his dragon, and the injury caused to him. The whispers were loud after that, rumours of the ugly scar, the missing eye. You’d decided quickly that you’d decide for yourself what you thought. Time seemed to fly by, and finally it had come the day for your marriage.
You’d taken some preparations yourself, choosing jewellery and hairstyles, and having measurements taken for your cloak, the house colours covering you. You could not lie to yourself as you walked up the aisle, your arm in your fathers, not having seen Aemond since childhood was worrying you slightly, what if he did not like you? It was certainly a shock when your eyes settled on him, his hair was much longer, the white locks halfway down his back, and an eyepatch covering one eye. He was also much much taller. You managed out the vows, changing into the black and red cloak of his house. The feast was not much different, you’d wanted to talk to him, but several lords and ladies divided your attention to wish you well and give you advice. When you’d finally escaped them, it was for your handmaidens to take you to the bedding chambers and to strip you into a chemise. You sighed as you waited, feeling slightly fed up from the night events.
The door finally opened, and you stood up, watching as your husband entered. Your eyes followed him as he walked over, skin heating up as he looked you over.
“My wife.” He said, voice low.
“We have not seen each other for a long time.” You manage out.
“No.” He agrees. “Are you worried about it?”
“A little.” You admit, and he does not reply. He simply presses his lips to yours, but you can’t help but melt into it.
It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, like he wants to devour you entirely, make you his. You eventually make your way into the bed, the chemise long forgotten, a pile of your collective clothes on the floor. His attempt to be condescendingly teasing is forgotten the minute he sees how desperate you’ve become, pulling him closer until he finally decides to enter you. He waits, giving you a minute to adjust. You settle, managing to open your eyes, reaching your hand up to his cheek, to his eyepatch.
You’re not stupid, you feel the way he tenses under your touch as your thumb traces the strap of it.
“You won’t take it off?” You ask, voice a whisper.
He shakes his head, swallowing.
“I would not judge, I have not seen you in years. I heard about it through a letter.” You whisper, and then repeat yourself, adamant. “I would not judge.”
It is then he finally allows the eyepatch to be moved, his sapphire eye glowing in the soft candle light. You trace your thumb against the scar, bringing him closer so you can kiss him as he finally starts to move. You keep kissing him until the pleasure is too much to bear, until you physically cannot kiss him without moaning against his lips. Then you trace your kisses up his jaw to his cheek to his scar. You revel in the way he shakily sighs against your skin, the way he brings himself closer to you, and then the way his hand snakes in between your bodies, his thumb drawing tight circles on your clit. The moans escaping your lips get louder and louder until you finally release, Aemond follows shortly behind, cumming inside you. You press your kisses along his cheeks again, pressing your forehead to his, finally content with meeting your husband.
Ormund Hightower:
Marrying a Hightower was one of the highest honours you could have gotten as a lady living in the Reach. It was an even higher honour that you’d been betrothed to Ormund Hightower, but even with this honour, you couldn’t help the nerves that were washing over you the night before the wedding. Your family had made many plans, travelling far to your future husband in order for the wedding to be fulfilled, and you had been happy to meet him for the first time. Especially when he had been such a gentleman, pressing a gentle kiss to your hand before escorting you to your chambers. The night felt overwhelming as you waited for the seconds to tick by, counting down the time until you’d be his, until your family would leave and you’d be in an unfamiliar place alone for the first time. It had been so overwhelming you had become restless, and with this restlessness came a necessary walk. You’d pulled on your dressing gown, before you’d started to wander out the room. You’d barely been outside for half an hour when you heard another voice join you.
“My lady.” You turned to look, arms crossed, when you realised it was your betrothed.
“My lord.” You reply, voice quiet in the night.
“You should not wander late at night, you know?” He speaks, and you watch him smile slightly.
“I know, I should probably be returning to my chambers anyway.” You reply, ready to turn on your heel when he speaks again.
“Let me escort you, it would be wrong as your betrothed to let you go on your own.”
You nod at that, it makes sense, and what harm would it do? You were to be married in the morning anyway.
The walk is silent for the most part, the sound of footsteps filling the night air as you finally reach your chamber door. Just as your turn to thank him for his hospitality, he leans down, lips pressing to yours in a hungry kiss. You feel dazed as he pulls away and speaks again.
“Sleep well, my love.”
You nod, turning to enter the chambers, your mind a mess as you figure out what just happened. You know he is to be your husband anyway, but the way he kissed you felt almost ravenous, and it barely helped you put your mind at ease, your body only succumbing to sleep through pure exhaustion.
The lack of sleep definitely caught up to you in the morning, the handmaidens dressed you quickly, and the ceremony was fleeting as you said your vows, blinking groggily from the sunlight.
By the night, you were glad, ready to sleep without the lingering anxiety. Until your husband entered the chambers, and you remembered all the advice given from the older ladies at court. You sat down on the bed as he moved over, trying to swallow down all your doubts, to no avail.
“I am nervous, husband. I haven’t done anything like this before.” You admit, it escapes your lips without hesitation.
His brow furrows slightly at that, his voice soothing when he speaks, “You think I’d mind, my wife?”
You swallow, unsure of yourself. Perhaps he was truly going to be gentle, unlike what those ladies said. So you daren’t speak when he finally lowered himself down to you, pressing his lips to yours as he did the night prior, kissing you hungrily as his hips ground down into yours. You held onto him tightly, body feeling weak, as he took control. You felt manhandled as he moved you how he wanted, skin burning as he pulled your chemise off, watching as he undresses himself. You want to voice your concerns again, nervous about how quickly he was moving, but it dies in your throat as he kisses you again, pressing into you.
You feel the stretch, a whine escaping you, but he just shushes you almost condescendingly as he begins to move. It hurts at first, but the pain bleeds into pleasure, and his hands trace your body like he’s claiming you as his, and you just can’t find yourself caring about the concerns when he’s touching you. You cum first, holding onto him tightly, moaning shamelessly as he continues, overstimulating you slightly until he finally comes inside you, burying himself as deep as possible.
Gwayne Hightower:
Finding a husband truly chivalrous was something you’d grown up assuming only happened in the stories. Ladies wooed by knights, giving favours and winning tourneys for them. That was until you’d been betrothed to Gwayne Hightower. The first meeting you’d ever had with him was memorable, he’d been nothing but kind, as your fathers discussed the betrothal. He had taken you on a walk around, your arm in his, bashful smiles shared between you as you conversed and a kiss on your hand when he had to depart had you desperate for the next time you’d see each other. (Un)fortunately for you, the next time you got to see each other was the wedding itself. It felt the same as when you first met, the shy smiles and the easy conversations between you almost felt as though you had known each other for years and years, like your souls were already one, tied together. He was everything like the knights in the songs. He complimented your beauty, he looked at you with so much love you might as well have been married for years, and it was no surprise when you two finally snuck away from the celebrations in your shared chambers for a bit of respite. He seemed hesitant when you’d first closed the door, until you had reassured him with a gentle kiss to his lips. His hands had come up to your warm cheeks, pressing more and more kisses to your lips, gentle. He held you as though you were fragile, something he could easily break. The rumours you had heard about the ‘act’ were thrown out the window with him, it was almost like he was letting you take the lead with it, letting you deepen the kiss, letting you push his clothes off, bringing his own hands up to your chemise until he was pushing it off.
The shyness came back after that, you felt nervous as he took you in, the adoration in his eyes evident.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, breathless, lips covered in a sheen of spit.
His words made your stomach turn, and you finally let him pull you to the bed, the soft sheets enveloping you perfectly. You watched him as he kneeled down on the floor beside the bed, the epitome of a true knight serving his lady, even more so when he finally kissed up your legs. You had no thoughts as he licked up you, his movements gentle, building you up slowly, making it feel unbearably good as he sucked on your clit. Your hand held onto his hair, running your fingers through it, soft moans leaving you as you finally came. You watched him finally rise, your hands coming up to pull him close for a kiss, tasting yourself against his lips. You managed to settle him into the bed, shifting so you're on his lap. You can’t help yourself when you begin to grind against him, the groan that leaves him is heavenly, his hands settling on your thighs, his thumb rubbing soothingly against you.
“My love, I do not wish for you to do something you are not ready for.” He manages out between soft moans.
You shake your head, “I want it, husband.” Your lips find his throat as he swallows and nods.
You lift yourself slightly, guiding him into you before sinking down slowly. It burns barely, slightly painful before his thumb rubs circles on your clit, making you tremble and sigh softly. Once you finally settle on him, you start your slow grinds, lips finding his as you moan against each other. Your breaths join together as you get closer and closer, his hips meeting yours as you finally come against each other. You shift off him, settling beside him, happy it was him over anyone else you got to call your husband.
Alicent Hightower:
Alicent had been through what you could only describe as hell. She had lost mostly all of her children, and to be pardoned for her crimes by Rhaenyra she had been forced to leave the rest. She had not been proud of what she had done to get away from King’s Landing and the war but she had done it, and she had taken whatever she could get. She was also aware of the fact that the living children she had were not the kindest, not at all what she had hoped from a motherhood she had not wanted in general. The pardon from Rhaenyra had been some grace, allowing her to get away, even if she had to leave Westeros completely, to the free cities.
Despite her hesitancy at first, she had found Essos to be desirable for one reason, you. You had helped her when she first arrived, when she had nothing. She had been ever grateful to find you, taking residency in your home with you, especially when you had insisted she need not help you pay for anything at the moment. She had fallen hard, especially with your overwhelming kindness when she felt she did not deserve a single bit of it. You knew she enjoyed your company, as did you with her, it was a surprise however when she showed you just how much she enjoyed your company with a deep kiss one night after a glass of wine. Your relationship had grown within the past few years, and it had started to feel like you two were your own little family, especially when you could finally return to her at night.
One of the days you finally had some time away from work, you two had decided to take a nice walk to the market, where you had found a stall selling jewellery. You had heard Alicent complaining about the fact she had less nice things nowadays, having to sell her items to pay for necessities, and your heart ached for her. You took your time with her, picking out a few rings to show her, before you both finally decided on matching rings. Hers was gold, set with a gorgeous dark green stone. You slipped the ring on her finger, and she slipped your ring onto yours when you finally reached home. It felt intimate, the light from the candles low as you looked at her. You watched the light reflect her eyes, you watched as they shut when you leant in to press your lips to hers. She looked like a piece of art as you led her to your bed, her curls woven into your fingers as you pressed yourself as close as possible to her. You couldn’t help but undress her as fast as possible, you’d waited weeks for the opportunity to have her, and you weren’t going to let it go to waste. You’d promised to make her feel as good as possible, she knew it too, your lips brushed against her skin as you promised her. You let her push your clothes off too, while your own hands roamed against her. You leaned down, her scent intoxicating as you licked around her breast, sucking one nipple before moving onto the next one. You let her pull you close, your legs locked together. You couldn’t help but grind down against her thigh, her doing the same with yours. The sighs and moans escaping your lips were unabashed, your lips dragging down her jaw as her wetness spread across your thigh. Your hips stuttered as you got closer and closer, coming against her thighs. You watch dazed as her hips continue moving, you move your hands down her curves until you reach her hips, helping her move against you until her head falls against your shoulder and she’s coming against you.
Helaena Targaryen:
Helaena knew that she was never truly in court life. The other lords and ladies had always been in the politics of the Kingdom, she had never really concerned herself like others had, she had focused on her own hobbies. She knew she was important, married to the King, and she knew that she had certain power over others that her mother may need to use. That all fell down when Rhaenyra took King’s Landing, keeping her hostage in a room with her mother. That lasted a few weeks until she’d finally managed to find the hidden passageway within the walls. It was freedom, even if her mother decided she did not want to go through with it. Helaena had never been strong, not in the sense her brothers had been. She had a dragon, like them, but they were trained, they were not women, they were not seen as weak. She was, but even she knew she could not stay. That is how she worked up her courage to sneak through the passage, to get herself and Jahaera out of King’s Landing. It had taken energy, too much energy that she did not have to spare, but she had managed it and found herself well into the countryside.
That was how she met you. You were travelling back from the market when you came upon the woman and her young girl, you knew how dangerous it was for them to be out here, and you almost applauded her for even making it so far with minimal injuries. You also knew that leaving her out here would certainly mean death for the both of them, which is why you invited her to stay with you for a night, or at least for a meal. It ended up being how Helaena and Jahaera had been living with you for months now. You had a humble home, a small cottage, and a nice plot of land. You raised chickens, something you’d found out Helaena had wished for. Jahaera seemed happier here, Helaena had confided in you, and she did not feel the pressure of being Queen here. You were happy to be some respite for them, even if you worried about being found eventually, especially with them being clearly Targaryen.
It was hard to worry most nights, especially when Helaena joined you in your bed, laid beside you.
“I dreamt of you.” She spoke, and you turned your head to look at her.
“When?” You ask, you’d become acquainted with her dreams, her vague explanations of future events.
“Months ago, it was a calm dream, it was unusual.” You don’t ask what her dreams are usually like, you found it more confusing. If she said it was calm, you believed her.
“I’m glad I can be the calm for you. And Jahaera.” You reply, eyes meeting hers.
“She likes it here.” She replies, and you can’t help but ask.
“You do too?” And she nods, you speak again. “We’re like a family.”
You can feel her eyes tracing your face. “A family.” She repeats.
You nod, turning your head back to her, eyes meeting hers. You shift closer, pressing your lips to hers gently before pulling away.
“You’d be my wife, it’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” You whisper.
Her face is burning red, and she nods, you take it as a sign to keep going.
“You’d want to be my wife?” You ask again, pressing kisses along her face.
“I would.” She agrees, hands holding onto you as you press kisses down her jaw, then her neck, down her chest.
She watches as you continue to move down her body until you settle between her legs. Her nightgown gets pushed up as you watch her, pressing kisses to the soft skin of her thighs before your mouth reaches her. You lick her, gently at first, trying not to overwhelm her as you watch her reactions.
“You’re so beautiful.” You whisper as you suck her clit, fingers spreading her open as you push in gently.
You revel in all the sounds you draw out of her, stomach fluttering as she tries to muffle herself. Your hand finds hers as she reaches for you, gripping her tightly. It all feels strangely intimate, like you’ve known each other for years. You feel drunk off her when she finally comes, you kiss back up her body, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. It feels intimate, like you really are her wife as you clean her gently, helping her settle down.
“I love you.” You whisper against her hair as she shifts closer to you.
A/N: ouu shii she's back.. hi guys!!! i missed writing and i lowk only wanted to write something for Alys Rivers because sh'es soooooo beautiful but lowk my friend gave me this idea and i js thought why not!! so i did team green !! i hope u guys enjoy, i had to do a little work a round for the female characters cause yk how they feel about gay people in westerosi lowk.....
Hii! I loved ur modern Rhaenyra x reader but I find it so funny how I got the exact same request LMAO
this is making me giggle so bad like nothing against the person who requested it because u gotta get ur fics but i wonder now if any people got the same request and probably started drafting a fic or smth
p.s. sorry i didnt reply to this earlier it took me forever to figure out how to reply because i didnt wanna seem rude to the anon but it was making me giggle sm (p.s.s ur account is so cutesy)
Hiiii so, whaaat do you think about (modern!hotd) Rhaenyra x (fem)reader, where Rhaenyra is a teacher (perhaps literature/history) at a prestigious university, and she harbors feelings for her best student? And the student herself feels it too, but knowing that her teacher is in her thirties, has children, and is married to the university's volleyball coach, despite rumors circulating among the professors, some students had the pleasure of hearing that the marriage between Daemon and Rhaenyra was not monogamous and that they might possibly divorce. idk It's just that this suggestion crossed my mind recently when I saw a movie! (kind of like a lolita but of course it's not something so absurd. More like... Rhaenyra spoiling her and being a rich and romantic milf and the reader provoke her
(Rhaenyra with short hair? I live for that!)
Modern!Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Entering one of the most prestigious universities always comes with an abundance of stress, having to keep up with the workload and balance your life on top of that. You find a way to add even more onto that, through your older, married-with-kids professor, Rhaenyra.
W/c: >2500
Tags: Modern!Professor!Rhaenyra, Female!Reader, MILF!Rhaenyra, Baela is readers friend but ISNT related to Daemon or Rhaenyra in any way to remove the incest.. (she's still dating jace), Jace is mentioned but never actually seen, Rhae is a history prof
Warnings: Legal age gap (reader is in Uni), cunnilingus, Daemon as his own warning, mention of cheating because of Daemon.., dom!Rhaenyra, desk sex, reader is slightly more feminine (is described to wear a skirt), i use she/her pronouns for the CHARACTER rhaenyra (but do keep in mind that the actor uses they/them!), praise
Banner Credits @uzmacchiato
The first day you’d ever stepped foot into that lecture hall, you’d felt as though you might fall at any second. It wasn’t that you were worried about your capabilities in the subject, you’d always been more than capable of it, but keeping your spot in one of (if not the most) prestigious universities was something you’d laid awake and thought about one too many nights. It would be a gross understatement to say you weren’t proud of how far you’d come, it would be even worse to say nobody believed in you, you almost felt as though your ears were still ringing from the celebrations of your parents when you’d shared the news. Even so, your legs wobbled like a baby animal, keeping yourself as tall as possible as you’d taken your chosen seat in the front middle, a perfect view of the board and close enough to hear perfectly. Better yet, it ended up being the perfect view for the professor of the subject. The first time Professor Targaryen had walked into that lecture hall, your breath nearly stopped. She was tall, she clearly knew she belonged, her attitude dominating the hall. She commanded the room without even speaking, even the louder students still chittering in the back had fallen silent as she began to teach and explain every assignment expected of you.
You’d been an amazing student, for the most part. You’d completed your assignments on time, answered questions when asked and been extremely cordial to other students when in groups. The only time your performance ever felt lackluster was when you got lost in your head, eyes dazed, plagued with day dreams about your professor. You knew it was wrong, she was older, and about a week into your time at the university, you’d found out there was a Mr. Targaryen. A volleyball coach, it almost made you laugh at the difference between them, it definitely made you laugh when you thought about the fact he’d managed to marry her.
As time went on, the workload became more and more. You were stressed out of your mind, between working part time to survive, keeping up your social life and finishing the class work, you felt like you were actively going insane. And worse (or better) yet, you had a meeting with your professor to discuss how your presentation was going. That’s exactly how you’d ended up in this situation, taking a few calming breaths as you lifted your hand to knock gently, the wood hard against your knuckles. The reply from within felt almost distant as you opened the door and stepped inside, trying to stay calm as you waited for her to speak.
“I’ve read over your work.” She starts, her voice never wavering. “I have practically no notes, your work is by far one of the best in the class, it might as well be the best out of every student I’ve ever had.”
You almost sigh out loud, stopping yourself as she turns to look at you, her purple eyes glimmering under the warm lighting of her office.
“Do you believe there is anything you could change?” She asks, and you snap back into the conversation.
“I don’t.. think so. I might change the phrasing but..” You trail off, unable to focus on your work much longer. Your eyes wander to her desk, the dark wood reflects the lamp light, the warm glow almost makes it feel cosy, slightly messy but arranged. You manage to get a glimpse at the photo sitting on her desk, and you almost choke on the air, her with two boys, seemingly her sons.
She nods at your words, looking you up and down before flicking through your paper once more. You watch, eyes on her as she leans against the desk. You can’t help yourself, the way her shirt fits her, slightly unbuttoned at the top makes heat rush into your cheeks, the ends of her short hair just barely brushing her cheek bones. By the end of the discussion, you’re kicking yourself at the fact you’d spent half an hour eye-fucking your very married professor and heading back to your dorm feeling sorry for yourself.
It was somewhat warm now it’d turned spring, and you’d taken the opportunity of it being warm to meet with Baela, eager to catch up on all the missed gossip and she’d taken great pleasure in telling you about every single relationship drama she’d managed to overhear. The bench was hard underneath you as you settled down and the wind gave you a slight chill as you finally spoke up.
“Do you know anything about the teachers?” You ask, fingers fiddling with your clothes before looking up at her.
“Depends which ones you’re asking about.” She replies, eyebrow arching just barely as she waits.
“Professor Targaryen, and her husband.” You reply, and watch as her face lights up.
“She’s related to my boyfriend, Jace.”
Your heart stutters slightly at that, you’d remembered seeing a boy around your age in the picture on her desk, but he was unfamiliar to you.
“He doesn’t go here?” You ask, and Baela shakes her head.
“Different university.” She sighs, showing you a picture on her phone. “But yeah, that’s his mum, and his dad.”
You nod, and it goes quiet for a minute.
“From what I’ve heard through him? He thinks they’re close to divorcing. He says they barely speak when they’re around each other now.”
You perk up slightly at that information, and Baela continues.
“I’ve heard from other students that Daemon has notorious a past of cheating.”
That makes you want to scoff in her face, he’d gotten the pleasure to marry her and for some reason he’d cheated?
You’d continued to gossip about it the entire walk back to your dorms, before you had to part ways. Your blankets almost felt suffocating as you laid down in your bed, thinking about what you’d learnt, a myriad of feelings overcoming you. You’d felt bad for her obviously, her husband seemed like a dick, but at the same time you couldn’t help but feel somewhat happy, like you’d even have a chance now.
The next few classes you’d tried to focus, more than usual you’d admit, but almost every time you’d looked up at your professor, she was already locked onto you. The first few times, you’d tried to brush it off, maybe it was just a coincidence. By the second class, you’d put that thought aside, more focused on the fact that she was asking you more questions, giving you more praise when you’d answer correctly. You weren’t complaining though, the praise made your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting as you tried to hide your smile.
It was after the third class that you’d realised you’d had another progress meeting with her. You felt deja vu walking up to her office door, stomach in knots as you’d knocked and entered. You’d tried to keep it cool as she read through your work again, before looking up at you.
“I really have no words for you, still. Your work really is amazing.”
You smile slightly at that, chest feeling warm at her praise. You feel frozen, standing beside her desk, even as she moves around, leaning against it beside you. The room feels too small, too intimate as you wait for her to speak again.
“Have you been distracted in my class?” She asks, and you snap out of it at that.
“What? No, professor.” You reply, almost distraught.
She smiles at that, it almost feels predatory, like you’d a caught animal under her stare.
“I just like to check on my favourite student, and call me Rhaenyra” She replies casually, but you almost crumble at that.
“Favourite?” You ask, fingers fiddling with your bag strap, even as your eyes stay on her, eyes briefly moving to her smile.
She nods, and you feel as though you can’t breathe. It worsens as she shifts closer, voice lower, the room feels suffocating.
“Favourite.” She confirms, fingers coming up to straighten your bag strap, fingers brushing yours just barely.
You feel trapped, in a good way, the space between you two small. Despite this, your eyes stay on her face, taking in the curve of her nose and the slope of her nose, before her eyes meet yours again.
“You stare at me more than you listen, I think.” She says, voice quieter. You swallow, eyes stuck on hers.
“Maybe you’re nice to look at.” You reply, trying to keep it cool.
She smiles at your weak attempt to flirt, moving even closer, and you can’t contain the beating of your heart as she presses herself closer to you, your chests almost touching. You feel breathless as she leans in slightly before committing, pressing her lips to yours, your brain kicking into overdrive to make you kiss back. You let out a soft noise as her hands find your hips, pulling you even closer, and you will yourself to drop your bag so your hands can move up into her short hair, keeping her close. You don’t pull back, you let her lead, even when her kisses start moving away from your lips and she pushes you closer to her desk. She trails them away, pressing one kiss to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then your jawline, then further, further down until she’s sucking and nipping at your neck. It all feels too much and not enough, the dim lighting of the office setting the mood almost too intimately, and you notice this time her desk seems emptier. She guides your hips back against it gently, and you take the hint to push yourself up on it allowing her to stand in between your legs. You finally gather your thoughts enough to bring your head down and push your lips against hers, revelling in the soft sigh she lets out at that. You feel addicted, senses and judgement clouded as you keep her as close as possible, although she seemingly has other ideas as she lowers herself down. You watch her, eyes locked on her until she’s fully kneeling. You lean back onto your hands as her own hands rest on your knees, rubbing up and down, briefly moving higher up your thigh. You can’t hold in the shaky exhale you release as she finally brings her head to kiss up your leg, and you shake slightly just from the sensation of her lips moving from your knee to your thigh, further and further up until her hands are bunching your skirt up to your hips and she’s fiddling with the laced edges of your underwear. She doesn’t speak, cheek resting against your inner thigh, but her eyes move up to yours and you feel too overwhelmed to even make a noise, simply nodding to give her confirmation. She gives your thigh another gentle kiss in gratitude, before she’s pulling your underwear down off your legs, and you’re taking more and more shaky breaths. She moves back up, hands wrapped around your thighs now, legs resting against her back as you wait. The first press of her tongue against you has you tearing up, a hand coming up to gently brush through her hair, breaths becoming shakier and shakier as her thumb rubs your thigh in soothing motions. Every lick against you has you shaking, and you can’t help but cry out she sucks at your clit gently, thighs clenching against her head. It’s slow, and not what you’d expected at all, especially considering how intense she was during classes the majority of the time, but you can’t complain, not when your orgasm builds slowly and intensely with every slow lick of her tongue. One of her hands moves from its soothing motion against your thigh toward your clit, rubbing gentle circles that make you shudder as you continue to run your hand through her hair, occasionally gripping when it became too much. Despite trying to keep quiet, in an attempt to not alert other staff or students, your sounds become louder, moans of her name escaping your lips, as you get closer, and you bring a hand up to muffle them as you release onto her tongue. Her movements become slower and slower as she helps you come down, before she’s kissing back up your body to your lips, her hand finding yours over your mouth and bringing it away. She plants a few gentle kisses to your face, whispering how good you were.
You leave that ‘discussion’ dazed, wandering back to your dorm feeling like you were floating.
You close the door behind you, back against it as you sink down to the floor, a gut wrenching feeling hitting you as you realise that despite every moral you had, you’d still somehow fucked your very married older teacher. Sleep didn’t come easy that night, you were stuck between the dilemma of her being married, the fact you’d made her a cheater and been an asset in said cheating but then also the fact her husband was an alleged cheater and they were likely to get a divorce anyway. It made you toss and turn considerably, a lump forming in your throat as you tried to keep it together. The guilt was enough to push you straight back to her office the next day, leaned against the desk again as you poured out your emotions.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” You say, trying to keep it together enough to explain yourself. “I like you, Rhaenyra, but you’re married and you have kids and you’re older, probably much too old for me.”
She doesn’t seem all too worried about it, it confuses you, it makes it hard to read her.
“If you’d heard rumours about a likely divorce between me and my husband, it already happened. In fact, it happened before the start of the year, I just kept it quiet because I didn’t see a reason to tell everyone about it.” She replies, and you feel almost stupid for believing that rumour.
“Right.. Sorry.” You reply, but she shrugs it off.
“If you really believe I’m too old, you can leave. I wouldn’t pressure you into anything, but I do really like you. I don’t lie about having ‘favourites’.” She says, and it almost seems like she’s joking, but you just about catch the seriousness in the undertones.
You start to think it through. She is older, but not much, it’s not the most insane age gap you’d heard of, and you could deal with her having kids if it really did get serious enough for you to ever actually meet them.
“I like you too, I really really do.” You reply, and you watch as her face lights up, just barely noticeable.
She moves around her desk, pulling you close, and you can’t help but cling onto her as she gently sways you. You press a few kisses against her face before she manages to convince you to let her take you out.
The next few weeks feel straight out of a fairytale, you were quick to learn that Rhaenyra was an extremely generous lover, in every sense of the word. She took care of you far too well, surprise dates to cafe’s, restaurants, taking you out whenever she could. Not only that, but by the second date, she was buying you stuff like her card had no limit, something you mentioned in passing was left in your dorm, any snacks you’d craved, and just gifts she’d known you’d like. You’d never felt as secure in a relationship, and Rhaenyra had taken it upon herself to show just how appreciated you were, whether it was in her office or your dorm, and you’d taken great pleasure in talking her into taking care of you whenever possible.
A/N:guys.. it's been so freaking long but when i got this ask i got to writing IMMEDIATELY. i have like one other ask to work on, and i've actually only seen 1 episode of the new season of hotd but like... i needed to write this, i hope it's everything u want anon <3
Please can you write McKay x reader headcanons like something fluffy set after they do shift work. Ignore this if you don’t want to write it but thank you if you do!
Cassie McKay x fem!reader (hope that's okay!) fluffy headcanons for after a workshift, maybe ooc!McKay, it's my first time ever writing for her, and for The Pitt!!
Tags: petname (honey), mention of kissing
a/n: sorry this took me so long to write!! i've been in the middle of exams and extreme writers block, this is my first post in literal months!! i hope you enjoy and this is okay for you!! enjoy!
Banner credits: @uzmacchiato
All images from Pinterest, they are not mine!
Working at The Pitt is monumentally stressful, dealing with tougher patients, the general environment of it is just one of those days where everything seems to go wrong, and that’s why going home together is one of yours and Cassie’s favourite parts of the day.
That and seeing each other and Harrison every morning before your shifts, the simple domesticity of life before the stress is enough to make your entire day before you leave. Even if it’s just her stressing about getting him ready for the day before you all end up late.
The stress of the day seemed to dissipate from your mind every time you saw her waiting for you after your shift, a smile on her face and a soft “Hey, honey” falling from her lips despite her shared exhaustion .
You both seemed to have found a routine to fall into with all the time you’ve spent together, you’d both talk quietly about the bad and better parts of your shift on the drive, then allow yourself to relax when you finally get home.
Cassie, the angel she is to you, lets you shower first while she makes food for you three. You come out of the shower much happier, and far far more relaxed.
You all finally get to eat, sitting together and asking Harrison about his day with his grandparents or dad.
Sometimes you’ll find yourself sitting on the couch together watching a movie, your head against Cassie’s shoulder and fingers absentmindedly playing with Harrison’s hair.
Most nights, Cassie puts him to bed and you lie in bed while you wait for her to finish showering.
You lie under the covers until she comes out and joins you in the bed, you press kisses along her face, on her cheekbones, against her nose, her neck, anywhere your lips can reach while she lets out breathless giggles. Eventually, listening to her soft whispers of how much she loves you, you finally manage to fall asleep after your long, long stressful day.
The only way you two ever manage to ever relax fully after your shifts is in your home together, in each other's arms.
hi guys i know ive been gone for forever and i said i would write a tanselle fic which lowk has been halfway written before i lowk gave up for now, HOWEVER, i started watching the pitt and i love it so if anyone wants to drop me any ideas for a fic... feel free.. i will love it more if its any of the female characters but i'll try do my best for anyone!!!
brienne of tart smut pls 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 scissoring
(@2jerk2goonius I know this is you bro...)
Bed Chem
Brienne of Tarth x fem!healer!Reader
Summary: After a battle you are sent to tend to a knight in the camp and end up getting more than you bargained for.
Tags: possibly ooc, probable mistakes, lowkey rushed cos i had to get it done, meantion of wounds and treating them, smut, dry humping, scissoring,
Word Count: 2.3K
The aftermath of a battle was never pleasant. It was raw, violent and harrowing, though you’d developed a tough enough stomach for it over the past few years. Men screaming and women weeping for their lost loves filled the air. It still affected you no matter how much you wished to pretend you were numb to it. Your job was to heal and heal you did.
After this battle you’d helped with the most of it, patching up men here and there with the surgical precision that had been drilled into you by your father when you were younger. Once you’d done all the tasks that you’d been assigned to by the Maester you reported back to which he’d given you a small nod and told you to “Go and see to Ser Brienne, she should be in the tent by the well.” That gave you pause. You’d never heard of there being a female knight before and wondered if you’d perhaps misheard the maester, though the name did sound decidedly feminine. Nevertheless you cautiously made your way to the tent, calling out one you’d found it.
“Excuse me Ser Brienne, I’m a healer, the Maester sent me to check up on you?” There was a beat of silence before you spoke again. “May I come in?”
You waited another moment before a definitely feminine voice responded.
“Yes, of course, sorry let yourself in.”
You pulled back the flap and your heart stopped when the sight inside greeted you. Ser Brienne, who was definitely a woman, sat before you, her shirt hanging loosely off her broad frame as damp strands of strikingly blond hair framed her beautiful face. She was sat on her cot and lightly lifting the fabric to observe a wound and the slither of skin you could see was tantalising. It was only when she at last turned to look at you that you snapped out of it. Stunningly blue eyes, unlike anything you’d ever seen before, observed you, almost as if she was assessing how dangerous you were. The whole picture made something frighteningly feral tighten in your gut. You shook your head slightly to remember yourself.
“Er, the maester sent me Ser, to see to your wound.”
Your voice came out louder than you would’ve liked and she definitely caught onto it if the inquisitive look on her face was anything to go off of. She sat up, almost defensively and dropped her undershirt, you silently mourned the loss of the skin that was displayed for you.
“I’ve never heard of a female Maester.”
She spoke matter-of-factly, and you slightly smirked at the irony of it. Allowing a teasing lilt to take over your tone as you responded.
“I’ve never heard of a female knight.”
She smiled slightly at that and your stomach did a little flip at the sight. You took the following silence as a sign to continue.
“I’m not actually a Maester, just a healer but I help here and there.”
She hummed in understanding and lifted her shirt again, revealing the slight gash on her side, it was nothing too bad, and would probably only take you about 20 minutes to disinfect and stitch up. You walked around to kneel beside her, infecting it more closely for any signs of it being more sinister but when you found none you took your satchel and began to unpack the necessary supplies.
“It would be best to speak while I work, just to distract from the pain if anything.”
She seemed a bit bewildered by that, as if the thought of making conversation was painful and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The air of awkwardness she exuded only endeared you to her more and you found yourself with an aching desire to know more about this shy female knight.
“How did you er-“ She fumbled for a moment, searching for words. “…How’d you become a healer? Since they don’t train women in Oldtown?”
You smiled kindly at her, trying to reassure her that you weren’t put off by the awkwardness - quite the opposite actually. Your hands worked mindlessly as you began soaking a cloth in alcohol to clean the wound, speaking as you went.
“My father taught me, and his mother taught him before that. My family have been healers for generations.”
She winced and sucked in a sharp gasp of air when you pressed the material to her side, beginning to wipe away the excess blood from the wound as you cleaned it. Once the initial pain passed she nodded for you to carry on.
“Where is your father now? Is he around the camp?”
Your smile turned slightly sad as you reached to grab a different cloth.
“My father is unfortunately dead, laid to rest on the grounds of our old family home.”
She was more focused on you now than the pain you'd noticed and the very idea of it delighted you.
“What about the rest of your family?”
“My mother and younger sister still live there, I work to feed them. I take out as much as I need to get by from my earnings and the rest goes back to them.”
“That’s very noble of you my lady.”
“Please, I’m no lady you ought just call me by my name.”
You gave her your name and she tested it upon her tongue, speaking it softly in the dim lighting of the tent while you threaded the needle and began to stitch her up.
“What of you Ser, how is it that a woman came across a knighthood when it has been forbidden for so long in the past.”
“I suppose the same way most knights are made. I was knighted by a dear friend of mine after years of serving the realm with as much honor as I had to give.”
Her answer was so humble that you felt your desire deepen tenfold. You finished bandaging her up and stood so you could look down at her face. You couldn’t help but marvel that even whilst you stood up she was close to being the same height as you.Your eyes dropped to her lips for just a second but from the way her breath hitched you could tell she had noticed. A faint blush spread across her cheeks and you couldn’t help but lean into her space more, feeling the warmth radiate off her skin. She broke the eye contact first, looking at her hands on her knees bashfully as you took the hint to step back and give her some space.
“My apologies, I overstepped.”
She looked at you again, slowly raising her head to reveal a deep flush spread across her face that made you rethink whether or not you had in fact made her uncomfortable. Her voice was slightly ragged when she spoke next and you took note of the way her hands fisted the fabric of her breeches.
“It’s no issue my lady, it was not unwelcome I am simply.. unaccustomed to receiving such positive attention from someone like yourself.”
You bent down to pick up a damp rag, bringing it up so you could gently wipe the dirt and sweat from her face. She seemed to preen at your attention, head tilting back as her eyes fluttered closed and she allowed herself to bask in the sensation of it.
“I don’t know why you say that, you’re very beautiful my lady”
Your voice was quiet, a breathy edge to it and Brienne looked pained by the comment and she grabbed your wrist to stop your movements with the cloth. The air felt suffocating with tension.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Her voice was small, far too small for someone of her stature. You paused your motions, looking her straight in the eye with a steely seriousness.
“I do mean it though, if you held a knife to my throat and asked me to speak the truth I’d simply tell you no man has ever captured my eye, not in the way you did when I first saw you a moment ago.”
Brienne searched your face for any sign of mockery, of jest but found none. Her hand softened its grip around your wrist and you took that as an incentive to move. You leaned forward, kissing her softly at first to test the waters, when her slightly chapped lips started to kiss you back you deepened the action. You brought your hands up to grasp her shoulders, opening your mouth so you could stroke your tongue against hers, every nerve cell in your body igniting with fiery passion. You noticed with much frustration that her hands still lay clenched over her knees, so you pulled back, a thin line of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment before it snapped. Brienne looked blissed out, her eyes still closed and dewy lips slightly parted, you thought she looked angelic, like a deity come to life. You ran your hand through her hair, teasing the strands until her eyes peeled open to meet yours, you finger traced the line of her bottom lip and you gave her an encouraging smile.
“You can touch me, you know, I’m not made of glass.”
Your hands reached down, grasping her slightly clammy palms to bring them up so they could rest on your waist, her fingers gripped tightly onto your flesh, as if she was afraid you’d disappear. Your own hands came back up to frame her face, moving back in to kiss her once again, this time forgoing gentleness in favour of passion. Your tongues slid against each other and you moved to situate yourself upon her lap, your thighs bracketing her hips on the cot. You felt the tension slowly leave her as she brought a hand up to grip the back of your head, her hand weaving itself into your hair to ground her. Slowly you began to grind your hips against hers, the fabric of her breeches and your dress rubbing deliciously against you as you moaned out, your hands pulling down and digging into her shoulders to ground yourself. She didn’t look any more composed than you, her eyes screwed tightly shut and head tilted back as soft sounds escaped her. Your hips picked up their pace as your own hands dragged down to unlace the ties of her chemise and you broke apart for just a moment to pull it off. Her bare chest met the air and you immediately dove down to wrap your lips around one of her nipples, sucking gently in a way that made her cry out, her hand flying to your shoulder.
Her deft fingers started to unlace the back of your gown and you kissed your way up to her neck so she could reach properly. Once your dress was loose enough she tugged it and your shift underneath over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor below. You felt her hands push softly against your ribcage and you stopped moving, sitting yourself up fully on her hips so she could look at you, no doubt the wetness from your cunt soaking through her breeches. You watched as her eyes darkened when she dragged them over your naked form, your chest heaving for air in the warm space. Neither of you moved for a second until she sprung up, surprising you as she grabbed your arms and flipped you, with no difficulty you thought, your back hitting the soft bedding as she loomed above you. You watched, your legs parting and fingers coming down to rub your clit as she got off the bed and pulled off the last of your clothes, the sight of her bare form making you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. She climbed back onto the bed and you grasped her hand to pull her until she was straddling your thigh. She looked at you then, searching your face for permission.
“Are you certain?”
You only smiled back delighted by her chivalry even in such an intimate moment.
“More certain than I’ve been about anything else in my life.”
With the clarification she lowered herself down, connecting your cunts with a sigh out as she began to move. She held your thigh up, spreading you wider as she rubbed herself against you, the two of you moaning out at the friction. You felt flushed, breathing heavily and gasping each time her clit made contact with hers. Your hands grasped for purchase on the sheets, her arms, your legs before one finally clamped down on her hand on your leg and the other came up to palm your breast, teasing your nipple in a way that made you feel deliriously overstimulated. You opened your eyes t o look up, finding her already staring back down at you, the sight of you there must have done something to her as she began to speed up, chasing her release desperately as you ground yourself back up against her in search of your own. You both came with cries of pleasure and you felt your body go limp on the bed.
You sank back into the sheets and closed your eyes, feeling the bed shift as Brienne lowered herself to lie next to you. Her arm draped itself over your middle and you tilted your head up so you could kiss her softly again. A lazy smile spread across your lips once you broke apart.
“Hope you have nowhere to go.”
She looked puzzled for a second, while you carded your hands through her short hair, thumb briefly coming up to smooth the furrow between her brows.
“I don’t, can I ask why?”
“Just that I’d be devastated if you were torn away from me so soon after I’d found you.”
A/N: I'M ALIVE GUYS I'VE JUST BEEN SUPER LOCKED IN ON COLLEGE RECENTLY
brienne of tart smut pls 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 scissoring
(@2jerk2goonius I know this is you bro...)
Bed Chem
Brienne of Tarth x fem!healer!Reader
Summary: After a battle you are sent to tend to a knight in the camp and end up getting more than you bargained for.
Tags: possibly ooc, probable mistakes, lowkey rushed cos i had to get it done, meantion of wounds and treating them, smut, dry humping, scissoring,
Word Count: 2.3K
The aftermath of a battle was never pleasant. It was raw, violent and harrowing, though you’d developed a tough enough stomach for it over the past few years. Men screaming and women weeping for their lost loves filled the air. It still affected you no matter how much you wished to pretend you were numb to it. Your job was to heal and heal you did.
After this battle you’d helped with the most of it, patching up men here and there with the surgical precision that had been drilled into you by your father when you were younger. Once you’d done all the tasks that you’d been assigned to by the Maester you reported back to which he’d given you a small nod and told you to “Go and see to Ser Brienne, she should be in the tent by the well.” That gave you pause. You’d never heard of there being a female knight before and wondered if you’d perhaps misheard the maester, though the name did sound decidedly feminine. Nevertheless you cautiously made your way to the tent, calling out one you’d found it.
“Excuse me Ser Brienne, I’m a healer, the Maester sent me to check up on you?” There was a beat of silence before you spoke again. “May I come in?”
You waited another moment before a definitely feminine voice responded.
“Yes, of course, sorry let yourself in.”
You pulled back the flap and your heart stopped when the sight inside greeted you. Ser Brienne, who was definitely a woman, sat before you, her shirt hanging loosely off her broad frame as damp strands of strikingly blond hair framed her beautiful face. She was sat on her cot and lightly lifting the fabric to observe a wound and the slither of skin you could see was tantalising. It was only when she at last turned to look at you that you snapped out of it. Stunningly blue eyes, unlike anything you’d ever seen before, observed you, almost as if she was assessing how dangerous you were. The whole picture made something frighteningly feral tighten in your gut. You shook your head slightly to remember yourself.
“Er, the maester sent me Ser, to see to your wound.”
Your voice came out louder than you would’ve liked and she definitely caught onto it if the inquisitive look on her face was anything to go off of. She sat up, almost defensively and dropped her undershirt, you silently mourned the loss of the skin that was displayed for you.
“I’ve never heard of a female Maester.”
She spoke matter-of-factly, and you slightly smirked at the irony of it. Allowing a teasing lilt to take over your tone as you responded.
“I’ve never heard of a female knight.”
She smiled slightly at that and your stomach did a little flip at the sight. You took the following silence as a sign to continue.
“I’m not actually a Maester, just a healer but I help here and there.”
She hummed in understanding and lifted her shirt again, revealing the slight gash on her side, it was nothing too bad, and would probably only take you about 20 minutes to disinfect and stitch up. You walked around to kneel beside her, infecting it more closely for any signs of it being more sinister but when you found none you took your satchel and began to unpack the necessary supplies.
“It would be best to speak while I work, just to distract from the pain if anything.”
She seemed a bit bewildered by that, as if the thought of making conversation was painful and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The air of awkwardness she exuded only endeared you to her more and you found yourself with an aching desire to know more about this shy female knight.
“How did you er-“ She fumbled for a moment, searching for words. “…How’d you become a healer? Since they don’t train women in Oldtown?”
You smiled kindly at her, trying to reassure her that you weren’t put off by the awkwardness - quite the opposite actually. Your hands worked mindlessly as you began soaking a cloth in alcohol to clean the wound, speaking as you went.
“My father taught me, and his mother taught him before that. My family have been healers for generations.”
She winced and sucked in a sharp gasp of air when you pressed the material to her side, beginning to wipe away the excess blood from the wound as you cleaned it. Once the initial pain passed she nodded for you to carry on.
“Where is your father now? Is he around the camp?”
Your smile turned slightly sad as you reached to grab a different cloth.
“My father is unfortunately dead, laid to rest on the grounds of our old family home.”
She was more focused on you now than the pain you'd noticed and the very idea of it delighted you.
“What about the rest of your family?”
“My mother and younger sister still live there, I work to feed them. I take out as much as I need to get by from my earnings and the rest goes back to them.”
“That’s very noble of you my lady.”
“Please, I’m no lady you ought just call me by my name.”
You gave her your name and she tested it upon her tongue, speaking it softly in the dim lighting of the tent while you threaded the needle and began to stitch her up.
“What of you Ser, how is it that a woman came across a knighthood when it has been forbidden for so long in the past.”
“I suppose the same way most knights are made. I was knighted by a dear friend of mine after years of serving the realm with as much honor as I had to give.”
Her answer was so humble that you felt your desire deepen tenfold. You finished bandaging her up and stood so you could look down at her face. You couldn’t help but marvel that even whilst you stood up she was close to being the same height as you.Your eyes dropped to her lips for just a second but from the way her breath hitched you could tell she had noticed. A faint blush spread across her cheeks and you couldn’t help but lean into her space more, feeling the warmth radiate off her skin. She broke the eye contact first, looking at her hands on her knees bashfully as you took the hint to step back and give her some space.
“My apologies, I overstepped.”
She looked at you again, slowly raising her head to reveal a deep flush spread across her face that made you rethink whether or not you had in fact made her uncomfortable. Her voice was slightly ragged when she spoke next and you took note of the way her hands fisted the fabric of her breeches.
“It’s no issue my lady, it was not unwelcome I am simply.. unaccustomed to receiving such positive attention from someone like yourself.”
You bent down to pick up a damp rag, bringing it up so you could gently wipe the dirt and sweat from her face. She seemed to preen at your attention, head tilting back as her eyes fluttered closed and she allowed herself to bask in the sensation of it.
“I don’t know why you say that, you’re very beautiful my lady”
Your voice was quiet, a breathy edge to it and Brienne looked pained by the comment and she grabbed your wrist to stop your movements with the cloth. The air felt suffocating with tension.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Her voice was small, far too small for someone of her stature. You paused your motions, looking her straight in the eye with a steely seriousness.
“I do mean it though, if you held a knife to my throat and asked me to speak the truth I’d simply tell you no man has ever captured my eye, not in the way you did when I first saw you a moment ago.”
Brienne searched your face for any sign of mockery, of jest but found none. Her hand softened its grip around your wrist and you took that as an incentive to move. You leaned forward, kissing her softly at first to test the waters, when her slightly chapped lips started to kiss you back you deepened the action. You brought your hands up to grasp her shoulders, opening your mouth so you could stroke your tongue against hers, every nerve cell in your body igniting with fiery passion. You noticed with much frustration that her hands still lay clenched over her knees, so you pulled back, a thin line of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment before it snapped. Brienne looked blissed out, her eyes still closed and dewy lips slightly parted, you thought she looked angelic, like a deity come to life. You ran your hand through her hair, teasing the strands until her eyes peeled open to meet yours, you finger traced the line of her bottom lip and you gave her an encouraging smile.
“You can touch me, you know, I’m not made of glass.”
Your hands reached down, grasping her slightly clammy palms to bring them up so they could rest on your waist, her fingers gripped tightly onto your flesh, as if she was afraid you’d disappear. Your own hands came back up to frame her face, moving back in to kiss her once again, this time forgoing gentleness in favour of passion. Your tongues slid against each other and you moved to situate yourself upon her lap, your thighs bracketing her hips on the cot. You felt the tension slowly leave her as she brought a hand up to grip the back of your head, her hand weaving itself into your hair to ground her. Slowly you began to grind your hips against hers, the fabric of her breeches and your dress rubbing deliciously against you as you moaned out, your hands pulling down and digging into her shoulders to ground yourself. She didn’t look any more composed than you, her eyes screwed tightly shut and head tilted back as soft sounds escaped her. Your hips picked up their pace as your own hands dragged down to unlace the ties of her chemise and you broke apart for just a moment to pull it off. Her bare chest met the air and you immediately dove down to wrap your lips around one of her nipples, sucking gently in a way that made her cry out, her hand flying to your shoulder.
Her deft fingers started to unlace the back of your gown and you kissed your way up to her neck so she could reach properly. Once your dress was loose enough she tugged it and your shift underneath over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor below. You felt her hands push softly against your ribcage and you stopped moving, sitting yourself up fully on her hips so she could look at you, no doubt the wetness from your cunt soaking through her breeches. You watched as her eyes darkened when she dragged them over your naked form, your chest heaving for air in the warm space. Neither of you moved for a second until she sprung up, surprising you as she grabbed your arms and flipped you, with no difficulty you thought, your back hitting the soft bedding as she loomed above you. You watched, your legs parting and fingers coming down to rub your clit as she got off the bed and pulled off the last of your clothes, the sight of her bare form making you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. She climbed back onto the bed and you grasped her hand to pull her until she was straddling your thigh. She looked at you then, searching your face for permission.
“Are you certain?”
You only smiled back delighted by her chivalry even in such an intimate moment.
“More certain than I’ve been about anything else in my life.”
With the clarification she lowered herself down, connecting your cunts with a sigh out as she began to move. She held your thigh up, spreading you wider as she rubbed herself against you, the two of you moaning out at the friction. You felt flushed, breathing heavily and gasping each time her clit made contact with hers. Your hands grasped for purchase on the sheets, her arms, your legs before one finally clamped down on her hand on your leg and the other came up to palm your breast, teasing your nipple in a way that made you feel deliriously overstimulated. You opened your eyes t o look up, finding her already staring back down at you, the sight of you there must have done something to her as she began to speed up, chasing her release desperately as you ground yourself back up against her in search of your own. You both came with cries of pleasure and you felt your body go limp on the bed.
You sank back into the sheets and closed your eyes, feeling the bed shift as Brienne lowered herself to lie next to you. Her arm draped itself over your middle and you tilted your head up so you could kiss her softly again. A lazy smile spread across your lips once you broke apart.
“Hope you have nowhere to go.”
She looked puzzled for a second, while you carded your hands through her short hair, thumb briefly coming up to smooth the furrow between her brows.
“I don’t, can I ask why?”
“Just that I’d be devastated if you were torn away from me so soon after I’d found you.”
A/N: I'M ALIVE GUYS I'VE JUST BEEN SUPER LOCKED IN ON COLLEGE RECENTLY
id love to see lyonel meeting noble!reader but she’s a very serious and kind of cold person. they get married and he’s a little frustrated with the match because she mocks him and ignores him but then he pays her back 🤭
Cold Hearted Girl
Lyonel Baratheon x Lannister!Reader
Summary: You and your husband have never gotten along well, his celebration filled lifestyle often clashing with your own. Lyonel is determined to make your mask of superiority crack.
Tags: no part 2 requests please, possible mistakes because this was written when I was tired and losing the will, oneshot, smut, enemies to lovers (sort of), jealousy, tension, possessiveness, marking, oral f!recieving, pinv, backscratching ,creampie, swearing.
Word Count: 3.4K
You hated your father for this.
You were a lady of Casterly Rock, a Lannister, a lioness. You didn't belong with an unsophisticated, boorish stag. If it were up to you nobody would have you, you were above all of them anyway. Men sang songs of your beauty from the Westerlands to the North, you were the jewel of Casterly Rock, you did what you wanted and got what you wanted. It’s not like you were spoiled if you deserved it all. The dresses, the jewellery, the books, the cakes, the trips to and pretty gardens whenever you wished. The point was you were a force to be reckoned with when you didn’t get your way, nobody could say no to you. Or so you thought.
Your father had put his foot down, told you that you were marrying Lyonel Baratheon and that was final. You had screeched and argued but in the end inevitably had ended up being forced into walking down the aisle in the sept to meet your new husband. You had met him only once before the wedding, at the feast you didn’t speak to him, not that he noticed. He seemed far too preoccupied laughing obnoxiously with his friends to talk to you. If that sound was to follow you for the rest of your life you had thought you may as well cut off your own ears just to save yourself the pain. You took his lack of engagement as a personal attack and you refused to let it get to you. You held your head high and spoke instead to your friends, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you vulnerable or embarrassed. Ignoring you was outrageous, the idea that you weren’t pretty enough for him was laughable, you were polished perfection, a jewel extracted straight from the mines beneath your home, and he couldn’t have thought you dull when he’d made no effort to know you. The only explanation was that he was simple, an idiot in every sense of the word and he didn’t deserve the immense luck he’d had when he was offered your hand.
Even when it came to the wedding night he’d refused to bed you, preferring to stay with his companions drinking while you retired alone, not a word spoken to each other. You had demanded there be no bedding ceremony of course, you would not be made to suffer such humiliation, but you didn’t think that would mean he’d neglect his husbandly duties completely. The final nail in the coffin of your misery was when he’d stumbled into the room in the early hours of the morning, dropping into bed next to you so brutishly it had woken you from your slumber and the stench of alcohol permeating on him causing you to suppress a gag whilst he passed out without a word.
He was definitely an idiot.
Your marriage had been cold, he’d eventually tried to put effort in but it had been too little too late in your eyes and there was no wrath greater than that of a scorned woman.
Days in Storm’s End were long and dreary, spending most of your time avoiding your husband and entertaining your ladies-in-waiting. The nights were even worse, spent laying awake in your lifeless chambers until sleep claimed you. Your husband still had not claimed you, all these months later and it made you wonder if he even found women attractive, or if his preferences lay… elsewhere.
It was one of these monotonous, drab mornings in Storm’s End that everything changed. There was to be a tourney later in the week in honour of your husband’s nameday and tonight was the welcoming feast for all the visiting lords of the Stormlands. You wore a beautiful gown of red and gold that enhanced your body’s shape in the best of ways, dangling golden jewellery adorned your figure and your hair was braided into an elegant updo. You looked akin to a goddess and you could tell from the appraising looks you received as you entered the hall that others definitely shared that view. Even your husband who was normally oh so distant couldn’t help but stare as you entered. His eyes followed your every move, leaning back in his chair lazily as you rounded the head table to your seat beside him. His eyes never left your figure even as you stood before him, waiting for him to get the hint and pull out your chair for you. His eyes did one last hungry sweep of your form before settling on your face, your hard, expectant stare waiting for him.
“Husband.”
“Wife, you are a terrifying vision in red.” His flattery didn’t move you, instead you raised an unimpressed brow and folded your arms in front of you, letting them act as a shield for you.
“Am I perhaps terrifying enough for my husband to remember his fucking duties?”
He blinked dumbly at that, racking his brain for what you could be referring to while dealing with the glee that usually overtook him along with your sharpness. All you could do was sigh and roll your eyes, already irritated.
“My chair.”
An amused sort of realisation dawned at him and it made a violent anger curl in your gut as he just smirked at you. He rose slowly from his seat, not breaking the heated eye contact that had begun to make a strange heat curl in the pit of your stomach. Once he was at his full height you had to crane your neck to not break the gaze. He was pushed up in your space and your breath caught with the all encompassing presence of him. He could tell, he knew the effect he was having on your body and it made his eyes gleam in wicked delight. It eventually became too much for you and you tore yourself away to take your place at the table once your chair was pulled out. You felt him push it back in and shivered at the deliberate brush of his fingertips against your bare shoulders, though otherwise refused to acknowledge him, holding your head high as you gulped down your wine.
Dinner continued on without a hitch even as you pretended to not notice your husband’s eyes flick back to you throughout the meal. The air between the two of you felt ferociously charged and it set you on edge. Your trance-like state was broken by the sound of your name being softly spoken by an unfamiliar voice. Before the table was a handsome lord, around your age, his doublet was white and red, the colours of house connington, you realised.
“Pardon me for my interruption my Lady.”
“Oh it is completely fine lord..?”
“Lord Beric Connington.”
He took your waiting hand and placed a kiss upon your knuckles, though in your opinion his lips lingered longer than appropriate. You fought the urge to turn up your nose at him as you retracted your hand and instead allowed that familiar coldness to slip into place.
“What is it exactly that you want Lord Connington.”
The man was undeterred
“I just could not stand to see you sit here unappreciated for another second.” Your eyebrows raised at his boldness and you felt the shift in Lyonel beside you as he tensed, finally having tuned into the conversation. The Lord for his part did not notice the shift in his liege for he carried on with his brashness. “May I have a dance with the fair maiden of the west?”
You opened your mouth to respond, a polite excuse on the tip of your tongue when you were interrupted.
“Absolutely not.”
Your head swung to look at Lyonel, whose fist was clenched tightly on the arm of his chair and who looked positively murderous. You would have half a mind to be frightened of him if the sight didn’t arouse you so much. He leant forward in his seat dangerously as a malicious look overtook him, it was somewhat predatory, as if he was the lion here.
“You dare try to take my wife away from me on my nameday?”
“My Lord its just she seemed-”
“However she seemed is no concern of yours as I think you’ll find it is not you that she is married to.”
The man paled and bowed his head in defeat.
“Yes my lord forgive my mistake.”
With the apology Lyonel’s aggression faded and again was the ever bored man you were used to.
“Yes, yes you’re sorry now fuck off would you.”
You watched as the man scuttled off before you turned to face your husband.
“You are entirely far too quick to anger.”
“And you are entirely far too polite, I could practically feel the disgust radiating off you the second that man’s lips touched your skin.”
His perceptiveness startled you but you couldn’t let it show, enjoying the way this row was feeding into the ever growing tension between you.
“That’s simply because all men disgust me.”
He had a smug look about him that you wanted to get rid of, how you’d go about getting rid of it though was something you hadn’t yet decided on. He turned more in his seat to face you fully.
“Oh truly, because I don’t believe that I disgust you.”
You leant into his space, smiling in a way that bared your teeth to him, reaching out to grasp his arm tightly so your nails dug into his flesh.
“That’s where you have it wrong, you believe yourself too significant when it is in fact you that disgusts me the very most.”
He smiled more at that and leaned closer, as you had done before to him.
“Your claws are sharp tonight my dear, though do be careful not to bite off more that you can chew.”
It was devastatingly clear what he meant by that.
“I don’t know how you can talk about how much I can chew when you make no effort to find out..”
You let your words trail off suggestively as you pulled back, taking a strategic sip off your wine to calm yourself. You thought the conversation would end there but apparently Lyonel had other ideas, for he leant in, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke almost into your skin.
“Then perhaps I should let you show me.”
He said it with such conviction your heart stopped. You placed your wine down so you could face him again, searching his eyes for a jesting lilt but all you found was cold seriousness. Like the calm before the beginning of the storm. You found his presence ever so intoxicating and before you could think better of it you threw yourself out to the tempest.
“Perhaps you should.”
Your voice came out breathier than you expected but he took the confirmation anyway. He stood suddenly looking away from you to announce to the hall that the both of you would be retiring, much to the chagrin of his guests as they erupted into a series of loud protests, to which he simply told them to ‘fuck off’.
The walk back to his chambers didn’t feel real as your mind ran wild. You had talked your way into a pit and the issue was that you weren’t sure you wanted to get out of it. It was a silent trip, his hand resting on the small of your back, the heat seeping through the fabrics of the gown in a searing claim. He led you with the quiet determination of a man about to do something monumental and it just made your excitement increase tenfold. Once you made it to his chambers he pushed open the door for you to step inside and you took in his space. It was very him, you’d decided. You couldn’t resist throwing another jab his way.
“Of course your rooms are like a pig’s pe-”
But he didn’t let you finish.
“Oh shut up.”
He gripped your head, slamming his lips into yours and stealing your breath. His lips were slightly chapped and the ferocious movements of them were unfamiliar to you and it was at this point you were glad you had always been such a quick learner as your lips moved to battle his with equal brutality. Your hands came up to grip his cloak, unclasping and shoving the garment from his shoulders down onto the stone beneath him. He tore apart from you with a gasp but didn’t go far. He rested his forehead against yours as he panted his words against your lips.
“If you tell me to stop I will.”
“I won't."
The stony conviction in your voice was enough for him as he dove back in, tongue coming out to push into your mouth as you moaned loudly at the sensation. His hands moved back in an attempt to untie your dress while his lips slid down to mouth at your neck. You were so lost in the sensations of his lips against your sensitive skin that you had not noticed that his hands had abandoned your ties to grip the front of your dress right at the neckline. Really you didn’t notice at all until those same hands tore open the front of your beautiful gown right as his teeth sank into the junction of your neck. A gasp ripped out of you as you lightly slapped him on the shoulder.
“My dress!”
“Gods woman I’ll have a thousand fucking dresses commissioned for you once we’re done just get the damn thing off.”
You didn’t have it in you to feel indignant when his mouth felt so good reclaiming yours and you moved your hands to shove the ruined garment the rest of the way down your body, leaving you in just your shift. He walked you back to the bed without taking his hands off you and you moved back to lie down. He wasn’t far behind as he moved to crawl over you, his hands pushing your shift up as he went until your cunt was bared to the air. You couldn’t help but moan when he lay down, hands gripping your thighs to move them over his shoulders, leaving wet open mouthed kisses along the inside of them as he did. Your brows furrowed in confusion slightly and your hand reached to grip his hair so you could force him to meet your gaze so you could hiss at him.
“What the fuck are you doing.”
He merely rolled his eyes at your venomous tone and began to rub soothing circles into the flesh of your hips.
“Put your canines away, my lioness, I’m just trying to pleasure you.”
You squinted at him a moment longer, glaring before finally conceding and laying back against the pillows though your hand remained in his hair. He got back to work kissing up your legs and around your slit in a way that made you squirm. Right before you were going to ask him again what he was doing his tongue came out to lick a broad stripe through you and your back arched up off the bed. Your breath was ragged as he continued on, sucking on your clit before dragging his tongue across it and down to plunge into your hole. His eager movements had you tugging his hair which resulted in loud moans that vibrated into your cunt causing you to cry out without a care for who heard. Eventually two of his fingers plunged into you, the intrusion slightly uncomfortable at first but made all the more pleasurable by the ministrations of his mouth. You felt like a sweaty moaning mess and he brought you closer and closer to the edge of release. He seemed to sense it as well as he curled his fingers deeper and sucked harder at your sensitive bundle of nerves so that you were crying out loudly as you reached your release.
You were panting as he crawled up your body, tugging your shift the rest of the way so you were completely bare. Once it was off he reconnected your lips, the taste of your tart on his tongue as he licked into your mouth again, ensuring you tasted the traces of you there. You hands came up to grip his shoulders shoving at the fabric there until he got the hint and began to strip off, You leaned yourself up on your elbows to watch from the bed as he stood, lazily taking in the sight of him derobing himself as if it were your own personal show.
His cock stood hard against his stomach and your mouth watered at the sight of it, you lay back spreading your legs enticingly as your nimble fingers reached down to spread your folds so you could touch yourself. He started to stroke his length at the sight enfolding before him as he kneeled back on the bed, grabbing your ankle to tug you closer suddenly so you let out a squeal. He bent over you then, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds so it was covered in your slick. You whined whenever the tip brushed your clit and gripped his shoulders again, nails creating crescent shaped bites in the skin there. He searched your face for a moment, most likely looking for traces of hesitation or fear and when he found none he began to push inside of you slowly. The stretch was painful at first but once he was fully inside and began to rub small circles into your pearl it eased. Ever so slowly he began to move, a low groan ripping itself out his throat.
“Gods woman you’re so fucking tight.”
You keened at his words, back arching into him as he lay fully over you, propped up by his arms either side of your head. He started to speed up, his thrusts rough and deep and rubbing against a spot deep inside of you that had you crying out, you nails at his shoulders reached around so they could tear down his back, scratching at the skin such that he hissed out at the pain. However it seemed to spur him on more as he sped up pushing in and out of your harshly as you pleasure amplified. That now familiar peak was approaching once more and you wrapped your legs around his hips to keep him close. You could tell he was close as well from the way he was panting against your neck and the fact his movements were getting faster and faster. He kissed you roughly once more, his coarse fingers frantically rubbing your clit as he begged against your lips for you to reach your peak. Soon enough you were falling, you broke apart from his lips with a gasp as you came, a weak shout of his name falling from you as you clenched around him. The sensation undid him as he followed behind you only a few seconds later, spilling deep inside you.
He collapsed in your arms unwilling to move as you both came down from your highs. You couldn’t remember when but eventually he found a cloth to clean you up with and brought you under the covers, his arms wrapping around you in a possessive embrace.
The next morning you watched as he got out of bed, tugging his breeches on lazily as he walked over to the floor mirror to inspect himself. As he turned his hands traced the lines of his back, finding the claw marks you’d left there and running his fingers along them with reverence. When he turned to face you again a bright smile adorned his face, the manic joy you were beginning to become accustomed to evident in his features. He took in your lounging form, barely covered by the sheets in the morning sun before meeting your gaze to speak.
“I do believe I’ve been mauled by a wild lioness, my love.”
You chuckled and rolled your eyes, though the nickname made your heart skip a beat, the you were standing so you could lazily make your way over to him. His eyes shamelessly ogled the skin of your breasts as you rested your hands upon his chest, your own feral grin breaking out.
“If you find her she will definitely need to be punished..”
He claimed your lips again and walked you back to the bed without a second to waste.
It was safe to say that if he was asked then Lyonel would say this was the best nameday he had ever had.
Summary: While you feel guilty about your growing feelings for Valarr, he struggles with his frustration and jealousy until he finally decides to do something about it…
Tags: modern au, possible mistakes, angst, mentions of sex, Aerion is a little shit, slight cheating for a moment but reader has a strong moral compass so.., mention of injury, hurt/comfort, toxic relationships, kissing (finally!), guilt, tension, insecurities
Word Count: ~3K
You got home far too late for your liking after the library scene. Lyonel’s party had lacked the usual charm and energy that it had when you actually wanted to be there. Aerion had ignored you for most of it, a punishment you figured for the incident in the library for Valarr. You’d spent most of the night nursing a lukewarm cider and feeling guilty. Because despite it all you did feel like you were drawn to Valarr, after all, who wouldn’t be? He was kind, handsome, charming, caring, attentive and a myriad of other qualities that would make up a real life prince charming. He was the kind of guy that had girls embarrassing themselves just to be noticed by him and you couldn’t exactly blame them. When you’d first met him on the first day of term you’d thought he was arrogant and spoiled and kept your distance, nursing what you thought to be one-sided beef with him. He introduced himself to you with the lethargicness of someone who never had to wait around for anything and your jealousy was suffocating. But over the course of these past few days you’ve gotten to know him more than you ever expected to and unfortunately felt yourself bewitched by his charms quicker than you considered possible. This whole situation felt like two trains hurtling towards each other, the collision unavoidable and the damage irreparable. You just had to remind yourself again and again that you were Aerion’s girlfriend, that you should be glad that any Targaryen took interest in you so you can’t be picky and that no matter what you feel for Valarr the most he feels back is friendliness. The feelings will pass, you were certain, if you ignored them enough they would go away. Eventually Aerion declared it was time to leave, not sparing you a second glance as he walked past and you had to rush to grab your things and follow.
The uber ride back had been awkward to say the least, Aerion quiet, it was never good when he was quiet. He was waiting for you to speak, you knew, making you break the calm so he had the upper hand.
“Aerion, listen,” He didn’t look at you. “I’m sorry about earlier, I- in the library its just-”
“It’s just you’d rather spend time entertaining my cousin than me.”
At least he was looking at you now, even if his words were dripping with malice. The uber driver coughed, clearly trying his best to pretend he wasn’t listening in on your argument. You felt dreadfully embarrassed at the situation as a whole.
“No, please listen, we were studying for a project we have together and I lost track of the time, my phone was on silent because of the library rules but if it wasn’t I would’ve left the second I saw your text.”
You pleaded with him to listen, to understand, it was humiliating having to beg for forgiveness like this but what else could you do. He scoffed, and the anxiety in your gut twisted violently.
“You would’ve but you didn’t, should I be worried there's something going on between you and him?”
“No! Aerion I swear he only sees me as a friend and I see him the same way.” You reached to grab his arm, hoping to convey the desperation you had for him to forgive you so you could both move on with your lives. Needing to get the point across you tacked onto the end, “I would never betray you.”
He stared at you truly, his eyes dark with power and lust, it was like having you scared and begging for him turned him on and a cocky grin spread across his face before he looked down his nose at you and spoke.
“Prove it then.”
He crashed his lips against yours, rough and demanding and you had no time to brace yourself as the air was stolen from your lungs. He gripped the back of your head with a ferocity you were familiar with, his nails digging into your scalp painfully. He only pulled away for a second to instruct the driver that you were just going back to his house instead of dropping you off at yours first. You never normally slept over at his place like this, only ever staying there when it was empty or just going to yours, but you were too intoxicated by his kisses to think about it any further. You suppose this was the way of things, you would mess up, argue, fight, fuck and then make up; it was at least a cycle you were familiar with.
Valarr hadn’t been sleeping much recently. He felt sick to his stomach most days since what had happened in the library. No matter how much he hated himself for it, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He was better than this, he knew he shouldn’t be pining over his cousin’s girlfriend like he was. Yet as he lay in bed late at night he couldn’t stop, there was just something so captivating about you, like the fact you saw beneath the layers of his curated rich boy persona, reducing him to the nervous boy he hadn’t been since he was little. You were such a dynamic person, so beautiful and gentle that it was impossible not to be captivated. It was no wonder Aerion had made you his girlfriend so quickly. He twisted his fingers that were folded across his stomach, staring up at the ceiling of his room.
You hadn’t been as open as you were before since the library, still friendly with him of course, just lacking the previous intensity and depth. He knew it was most likely because of Aerion, fearing his reaction if you were anything but distant with his cousin. Of course you still worked on the project together, but instead of chatting while you work the space was now filled with tense silence. He tried to reach out and message you when he could, hoping for proper conversation but all he got was dry responses most of the time. Valarr couldn’t help but think that your spark was becoming frighteningly dull, he worried for you and missed the girl that lit up at the mention of her favourite film in the archives of the mayor's office. It certainly didn’t help that Aerion had started to bring you around to the house. He would smirk triumphantly at Valarr as he watched you get yourself breakfast the next morning on shaky legs, what you two had been doing the previous night blatantly clear by the way you avoided eye contact with him and the light marks on your neck.
Thinking of you with Aerion made him angry, Aerion didn’t deserve you, or treat you right. The encounter in the library made that very clear. You needed someone better, someone kind, responsible, mature. Someone like him. His mind supplied the last part unhelpfully, he shouldn’t be thinking like that, Valarr didn’t steal girlfriends, and you definitely weren’t the type to cheat. But why should Aerion get someone so good when he’s so horrid. Again the thoughts came unbidden, he couldn’t help it. Jealousy wasn’t something Valarr was accustomed to, he’d never been a selfish child, his father raised him better. He always had been thought of as the golden child, his cousins were walking, talking thunderstorms and he was the calm. He wanted to be the one to kiss you, to hold you, to take you out to nice places and to call you his. Shouldn’t he get to be selfish just this once? After all he’d done so much for his family and asked so little, this was the only thing his heart wanted. He thought of how vulnerable you looked when you told him about your father; the hitch in your breath, the shake in your voice, the way you hadn’t been able to meet his eye as you played with your fingers. Was it truly a crime if Aerion wasn’t treating you as he should and Valarr just showed you there were other options? It wouldn’t be something malicious, he reasoned, it would be him laying out how he feels to keep you informed, to allow you to see him as a possibility, to decide if you’d rather be with him or Aerion. Plus if you didn’t want him that was fine, he could take rejection and move on, no matter how much his heart ached at the thought.
He just had to wait for the right time.
Turns out he wouldn’t have to wait long, as the right time came a few days later during one of your internship shifts.
He picked you up like he normally does and you drove there in only slightly awkward silence. This time he’d made a point to bring you coffee the way you liked it, he’d clearly remembered your order from when you’d told him it in the past and you found yourself blushing slightly at the thought and care behind the gesture. There was a different kind of tension in the air today than there had been before; this one more intense, and had both of your skins tingling with the anticipation for when it would break. You’d been assigned to that damn storage room again, sorting out all the filing cabinets. The task seemed neverending with the way you’d been doing it for the past few weeks with no sight of the end. You’d gotten to work in silence on opposite sides of the room. The storage room was by no means big, yet the space between you felt wider than a river. Valarr was the first to bridge that gap.
“So…watched any new movies lately?”
You whipped around to look at the sound of his voice, he was stood leaning his back against the cabinets, arms folded lightly across his chest with the sleeves of his thick jumper rolled up so you could see the mouthwatering lines of his forearms. You had to tear your gaze away and will yourself to act normal as you looked into his eyes.
“Huh?”
“Films, have you watched anything new lately?”
Gods, this was awkward. He was trying to make conversation, you knew that, It was just the fact that you feared engaging with him would deepen the pit of infatuation you’d been trying your hardest to get out of these past few weeks. You tried to keep your tone noncommittal when you responded.
“Oh, er no, I haven't had the time recently with studying and everything.”
He nodded slightly looking away.
“Right.”
There was a heavy silence for a moment more where the very room seemed to hold its breath. You cleared your throat, your brain grasping for anything to say.
“How about you?”
Valarr’s eyes lost their distant look as his attention snapped back into the moment.
“Oh erm no, I’ve been busy as well y’know?”
“...Right.”
It was almost painful, like the embodiment of nails scratching on a chalkboard as you both looked at each other. Valarr looked at war with himself while watching you, like there was something within him he wanted to say but was afraid of the consequences. You watched as something solidified in his mind and he opened his mouth again, this time more sure of himself.
“Are you okay?”
“What”
“Just after what happened in the library you’ve been distant and I’ve just been, well, worried about you is all.”
Your heart leapt in your chest at the realisation that he’d been thinking about you and noticing the way you’d been struggling.
“Oh yeah, it’s just been a lot with everything I guess.”
You gave him an awkward smile that definitely didn’t reach your eyes and spun back around to continue what you were doing, wanting the conversation to be over so you wouldn’t have to keep talking about this. Unfortunately, you’d misjudged your speed and forgotten about your still hot coffee cup on the cabinet and managed to knock it over, burning your arm as you pulled back with a hiss, grasping the burn. Valarr rushed over, grabbing the sides of your arms as he turned you to look at him so he could assess the pain.
“Are you okay?” There was an urgency to him you hadn’t seen before and your heart jumped again, betraying you despite being in pain. You offered a grimace, hoping to cover up the pain, your skin felt hot where he held you and the closeness was suffocating.
“Yeah I just burned my arm slightly, should be fine.”
He searched your gaze for another second before exhaling, shoulders dropping in relief.
“I’ll go get some wet paper towels for your arm and some napkins to clean up the spill, stay here okay?”
“Yeah alright.” You felt breathless as he pulled away. When he was close you could smell his woody cologne and see the different shades of his eyes, getting lost in the oceans of colour even after he pulled away. You felt cold when he was gone and had to curse yourself for the fact you had felt so entirely safe in his arms, in a way you hadn’t felt before.
When he returned you’d expect him to give you the wet paper towel so you could sort yourself out, stepping away from your space to get started on the bit that had spilled onto the floor. However, instead he stepped even closer to you than before, from this distance you could count his freckles and it made the world stand still, even the ever present specs of dust seemed to freeze in place. After setting the dry box of tissues aside, he took your arm out of your grasp with a tenderness that made your breath hitch, carefully rolling up your sleeve for better access to the injury. His other hand ran the cloth over it with a softness that made your stomach backflip and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his face. His attention was zeroed in on your arm so you allowed yourself to stare more openly, the soft afternoon light pouring in and enhancing the sharp lines of his jaw. You wanted to smooth out the slight furrow of his brow he had from focusing on you. Eventually the pain in your arm felt less dull yet neither of you pulled away. Valarr lingered, his grip reverent but light and you could feel the turmoil within him from how close you were. You felt the butterflies in your stomach swarming up and up until they escaped with a soft sigh.
“Valarr…”
He heaved out a ragged breath at the sound of his name on your tongue before raising his head to look at you. You searched his face for anything, mostly hoping that it would be devoid of affection, just friendly indifference so you wouldn’t have to deal with what was going on between you. So you could feel the sting of his rejection and move on. Regrettably when he looked up at you all you found in his gaze was a deadly mix of adoration and longing. He put down the cloth and searched your face again, always assessing and calculating his next move while your whole body stopped, waiting for his next move. He breathed out your name as he raised his violently shaky hand to cup your face, the contact sending sparks across your skin as he gave you a moment to pull away. When you didn’t move you watched as something clicked in his mind and he leaned in to connect your lips.
The softness of them wrapped around yours, his very being engulfing yours as his other hand wrapped around your back to gently urge you closer. He wasn’t rushed in his movements, just savouring the feel of you as your hands came up to grip the front of his jumper desperately. Your eyes fluttered shut and you allowed yourself to be overtaken by the sensation of him. This felt like the comfort of rain on old glass windows, of the scent of old books in the university library, like finally finding peace after weathering a great storm. You wanted so deeply to let yourself melt into it fully and give yourself over completely to him.
But you can’t betray Aerion like this.
The thought hit you suddenly and had you ripping away with a gasp, stumbling slightly as you pushed to get away from him. The room suddenly felt much hotter than before and you gripped your chest to ease the heavy thumping of your heart.
Valarr was staring at you again, his eyes pleading with you to come back, to not go back to Aerion but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t betray the man that cared for you first just because there was someone slightly more appealing that came along, otherwise you’d be exactly what people thought you were - an opportunistic gold digger.
Valarr said your name softly, reaching out a hand for you so he might beckon you closer but you just shook your head, stepping back and his arms dropped to his sides in defeat. You looked at him, choked up and fighting tears as you willed yourself to speak.
“Valarr…I- I can’t.”
The words hung in the air yet Valarr felt like you’d stabbed them into his gut. The pain drowned him like the violent currents of a river and it was all he could do to stand and watch as you grabbed your things and rushed out the room.
how it feels to play 100 hours of roblox and not write or do homework on a weekend
(sorry guys, i swear that tanselle bridgerton inspired post will be put up eventually.. also.. send me more lesbian requests.. im tired of writing men..)
University life is fun, you study hard, do well, party, spend time with good friends and actually feel hopeful for the future. It's just unfortunate that your love life is so tumultuous...
Tags: Modern/University AU, no use of Y/N, slow burn, Past abuse, toxic relationships (not with Valarr), Politics major Reader and Valarr, drinking, parties, financial struggles, kissing, eventual smut (indicated by *), more tags to be added
Hi, how are you? Lately I've been obsessed with AKOTSK and, unfortunately, with Aerion Targaryen. 😔
So I came up with the following idea, nothing too detailed, so you can feel free to write it: Aerion and Reader are engaged to be married. It would be the typical enemies-to-lovers dynamic, but in this case, Reader is in the enemies phase and Aerion is already in the lovers phase, lol.
Thank you for your attention!
Never Enough
Aerion Targaryen x Reader
Summary: Aerion Targaryen knows that you are his so he struggles to understand why you still treat him so cruelly.
Tags: Aerion lowkey mistakes his desire as the dragon in him being awoken and it leads to him being obsessed, not spell checked, rough kissing, violence, obsessive and cunning Aerion, somewhat cruel reader (rlly shes js trying to stay alive), slight degradation because it's Aerion, manipulation, marking, blood kink, violent language, smut, fingering, being walked in on
Word Count: ~2.3K
Aerion Targaryen was a prince of the realm. From the day of his birth he’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted or needed, no questions asked. The world appeared to revolve around him. When he’d met you that day during some royal feast for something or another and you had denied his offer of a dance that he had not even wanted to do, having been forced by his father, he’d realised he was going to make you his.
He’d been struck by your audacity at first, denying a dragon something so publicly was cause for great punishment. Though the more he thought about it, the way the fire ignited in his chest at your challenging gaze, when you stared at his expectant palm before uttering a simple ‘no thank you, my prince’ and turning back to your friend, leaving him standing there like a fool. He’d sought you out the next day, cornering you in the garden under the guise of you making up for your lost dance. However when he’d said this to you, you’d only scoffed saying that there was nothing to make up for, that you owed him nothing and had better things to do. He’d stayed still for a long moment after you’d left him there, the scent of you curling around him as again that same fire ignited in his chest. He liked the challenge, he’d realised, and the desire to make you bend to his will clouded his senses. You brought out the dragon in him, made his flames stronger and that was something he couldn’t let fall from his grasp. He knew you’d never accept him outright. You turned up your nose whenever he approached, lips curling in a way that began to haunt his dreams, he dreamt about kissing them, biting into the plush flesh there until they bled and the warm flavour of your blood engulfed his mouth.
He just had to bide his time, wait carefully and plan his next moves wisely. It began with the suitors. He knew he wasn’t the only one to notice your beauty, he wasn’t an idiot, he just didn’t expect the sheer quantity and relentlessness of them. Whenever he watched you, which was frankly a lot, there’d always be some minor Lord’s son tripping over himself like a bumbling fool for your attention. His gaze would always linger on your barely concealed disgust as you dismissed whoever it was with a backhanded remark shrouded in fake courtesy. Your soul was fire and it astounded him you didn’t bear the targaryen name, not yet you didn’t at least his mind would always supply helpfully. The least he could do was get these men out of your vicinity, it also helped that it benefited his plan greatly of course. You began to notice the dwindling number of men crowding for your attention, mixed with the scalding gaze of Aerion Targaryen that you pointedly ignored. He’d begun lingering closer you’d realised; pushing the lines of propriety through lustful gazes that lacked subtlety and movements that had him leaning into your space more than you deemed necessary. People had of course noticed, Prince Aerion was a fearsome figure, kept under the surveillance of most due to his temperament so his out of character behaviour had not gone unobserved. They’d whispered scandalous things, swirling rumours of you and the prince, that you’d seduced him.
That couldn’t be farther from the truth.
The truth of it was that you’d heard of his cruel nature and determined that becoming a princess wasn’t worth tethering yourself to a man of such inhumanity. That avoiding him and his interest was the best course of action. You had thought that denying him a dance at the feast would be all that was needed, humiliating him in front of the court and his family would leave a bitterness in his mouth at the sight of you so strong he’d have to turn away and never look back. But then he found you in the gardens, his cold calculating gaze tracing over you with the hunger of a dragon. The cold dagger of malice you plunged into his chest again and again only seemed to be a lever for him to pull himself closer to you. You had captured the beast’s attention and you did not know how to shake it. He was planning something, that you knew, though what it was you couldn’t understand. You had told your father that should Prince Aerion try to come to him with an offer of marriage that he was to deny it and if he didn’t you would slit your own throat before you could ever make it to the altar. Your father had of course laughed it off, thinking it to be a joke. Because who wouldn’t want to marry a prince of the realm?
It didn’t help that your own mind was beginning to betray you. Where once fear and disgust was all that you felt when you thought of the prince, now a dangerous potion of anticipation, unease and desire had begun to brew. Every time he leaned into your space and your lungs were seized by his spicy perfume your heart jumped. Every time he brushed against you and your hands met the soft skin of his along with the cold bite of his rings a shiver traced its way down your spine. You didn’t understand it; how was it possible that you could hate him so but still need to ravage him so severely all at once?
These emotions had frankly drained you and you found yourself leaving tonight's celebrations early so you could get some rest. You’d felt the scorching heat of his stare as you left, unyielding, unwavering and feeding the raging inferno in your chest as you walked down the empty corridors. The only issue is it hadn’t left you once you’d exited the hall, or more accurately he had followed you. You heard the steps behind you, solid, rhythmic, calculated. You ignored them walking at a steady pace, you just had to reach your room-
“Are you well, my lady?”
His voice was even, fake concern dripping from every syllable. You stopped and turned to him but he did not do the same. He kept walking until he was a hair's breadth away, crowding into your space that had your head spinning with his intensity. He looked at you like you were prey, like was a mere predator toying with his food. He studied you intently, barely hiding his lust.
“I asked you a question.”
You blinked irritation overcoming you once again as you glared at him.
“I’m perfectly fine. I just found the company in the room to be particularly… stifling.”
He chuckled at that slow menacing grin stretching across his lips as he stepped even more into your space. His hand running up the length of your arm before gripping your elbow with possessive determination. His voice was low when he spoke again.
“I do suppose you would be stifled by the boars in that room, they know nothing of true enjoyment.”
You met his tone with searing venom.
“It is not them I speak of.”
His gaze hardened, that familiar passion blazing in his chest. He didn’t waste a moment, crashing his lips against yours and swallowing your noise of surprise as he pushed you until your back met the cold stone of the wall behind you. You didn’t move for a few moments, the urge to push him away and slap him warring with the deep inexplicable desire within you. Eventually it was clear which side won out as you reached to grasp him, one hand on his shoulder and one in his hair, yanking him roughly back by the strands. He gasped out, a shocked moan leaving him as your roughness while you forced your tongue into his mouth, both of you battling for dominance while his hands furiously grasped at your dress. He pulled back for air but you didn’t let him go far, teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he tried to escape. He groaned loudly and your tongue invaded his mouth again to taste the blood there. You pulled back and smiled at him impishly, his blood on your lips and teeth. The sight made him frenzied, he dove back in to kiss your neck, sucking and biting harshly at the skin there. The feeling of it caused your head to fly back, colliding with the stone behind you in an ache that overwhelmed you, the pain combining with the pleasure in a dizzying whirlwind.
“Aerion.” You gasped, “Touch me.”
It was a command you’d summoned the last of your coldness for. He’d stopped, looking up at you with more of that false concern that made your blood boil. His tone was laced with mischief as he tried to keep up his facade.
“Are you certain my lady, what if someone sees? Your honor would be compromised”
You ground your teeth, he didn’t truly care about propriety and you both knew damn well where this was going no matter what.
“Fuck honor. Give me what I want.”
The heat in him burned impossibly brighter as he grinned before complying with a torturous lack of speed. One of his lithe hands had begun to grasp your skirts tugging them up until he could finally grip the flesh of your thigh. His hand found the heat between your legs and the soft pads of his fingers started to circle your clit with a deliberate slowness that had you writing in his grasp. His other hand reached down to hold your hip, slamming you back against the wall to keep you still. He continued to kiss along your neck, before reaching your ear to whisper scandalous encouragement to you. You felt as the hand still between your legs parted your folds, gathering the wetness there before two of them started to push inside you, his thumb circling your clit all the while to allow him easier access. You gasped out harshly and his lips claimed yours again. He kissed you hard, denying you air as you became lightheaded. His fingers had started to drag in and out of you curling just slightly as they did. The heel of his palm began to grind against you and you slapped the hand that had gripped his shoulder over your mouth as you broke away from him to cover the noise. As soon as you did that however his ministrations stopped and he pulled back to look at you sternly.
“Take your hand off your mouth or I’ll leave you here now like the desperate whore you are.”
You took a shaky breath before complying, staring him down as you placed your trembling hand back on his chest, the coarse fabric of his doublet only grounding you slightly. His lips curled sadistically as he watched and he gave an experimental grind of his hand that had you crying out.
“Good girl.”
He started up again, this time his movements faster, rougher, his hand on your hip moving to pull up your thigh so he could reach deeper inside you. You felt your peak fast approaching and your noises get louder in response. He leaned in close to your ear before whispering to you again, the threat piercing into you and causing your core to clench around him.
“I’m going to make you mine, and we shall see then whether you still treat me so cruelly.”
He nipped your earlobe as he pulled away, his teeth digging a touch too tight and the pain caused your orgasm to rip through you with a flash of hot white intensity.
Your breathing was ragged as he pulled out of you, not going far and not even bothering to fix your skirts properly as he started you down, lifting his soaked fingers to his lips to suck your come off them. Once he was satisfied he took his still wet hand grasping the back of your head to connect you again, making you taste yourself on his tongue. You didn’t have time to think about the taste before a shocked gasp interrupted you and you tore yourself away from him.
Your heart dropped straight into your stomach as you saw your father and Prince Maekar just down the corridor, a maid with them that must have led them to you.
“Aerion.” Prince Maekar said, eyeing his son wearily as Aerion stepped back from you lazily, seemingly unaffected by being caught.
“Father.”
Your father looked furious and turned his ire onto the young prince.
“You have ruined my daughter, taken her virtue.” His eyes settled back on you though shame did not let them stay for long before moving back to Aerion. “You must marry her, swear yourself to her before anyone catches wind of this scandal.”
Your breath caught, this was exactly what you had been meaning to avoid. You’d just have to let your lust win out. Surely Prince Aerion would reject the offer now his game was over.
“I accept.”
The words shocked you again, the night feeling as if one never ending labyrinth of surprises. Your father nodded and moved to pull you away, his grip harsh though you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift back to your now betrothed. When your eyes met his you suddenly realised; the maid had not found you by accident, he’d planned this all along, and you’d walked right into the trap.
a/n: guys it has been a MINUTE since i updated this fic so i figured if anything would get me out my fuckass writers block i got. I lowk kinda lied i dont actually have a crazy amount of schoolwork im js lazy and procrastinate like an IDIOT.
might be inaccurate cuz idk shit about figure skating, sorry...
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨୧⠀︶︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨୧⠀︶
You had been seeing a lot more of Dunk these past few weeks, even if your practice times had been interlinked anyway. Without fail he had managed to catch your eye nearly every time you’d walked around campus and waved at you, it was like once you’d finally got closer to him, he was everywhere. It was because of this that you got close fairly fast, as close as anyone like you two remotely could. You’d hang out if you saw each other outside of the rink, and whenever possible, talk to him briefly after his training and before yours. And it was because of the fact that you’d gotten so close so fast that you’d found yourself asking him to come watch you skate in one of your competitions. You hadn’t expected him to be enthusiastic with his agreement, but you’d expected a little more than his slight nod in response, however you gather you were too blinded by your own nervousness to see his own at the time. That had been about a week ago, and practice had been vigorous since. Your coach had prepared you to near perfection, and this definitely wasn’t your first competition. You had a whole roster of skills and jumps prepared, set to your choice of music, but even with all the preparation you were nervous. The type of nervousness that makes your knees weak, feeling as though you swallowed a rock and leaving your palms sweaty. The lights on the ice felt brighter than ever, almost blinding on the day as you warmed up. You had briefly waved at Dunk when you noticed he had actually come to watch, finding him easily in the crowd, perks of him being so tall you supposed as you continued to warm up. The competition was good, you knew some of the other female skaters, but some were entirely new to you and you were excited to see how they skated. You found yourself completely drawn in as you watched, trying to see their skills entirely, like whether they had excessively pre-rotated or how their combinations worked. You never felt more nervous than how you felt skating onto the ice in competition, but you just had to perform like you did at practice. You somehow managed through it all, and the rest of the competition, and to your complete and utter surprise you had come second. It wasn’t first, but placing anywhere in any competition was enough for you, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face when you finally managed to see Dunk. You sat down beside him, still grinning ear to ear.
“So, first figure skating experience, what’d you think?” You ask, looking over at him.
He’s quiet for a moment, before swallowing and replying, “Um.. You were amazing, I mean like.. really really amazing. I couldn’t stop watching.”
You keep your eyes on him for a moment, he’s just staring at you but he seems genuine so you just respond quietly. “Thank you.”
He just nods, and before long you both decide to leave. The walk home is fairly quiet, you’re still buzzing from your win and you can’t help but play with the medal around your neck as you walk. You don’t talk about much as you walk, but it’s not awkward like most silences. It’s peaceful, calm, and feels too right with Dunk beside you. You don’t want to ruin it, so you choose to ignore the hand brushing against yours as you walk. It’s barely there, the same amount of pressure as a feather brushing against your skin, but you notice it anyway. You feel that a lot, like you’re hyperfocused whenever Dunk is beside you but still you ignore it when it plagues you late at night because it’s Dunk and a small part of you is still sure if he ‘hated’ you for so long then there’s no way he could even slightly like you. It gets harder to ignore when he’s actually there, because he seems touchier, he seems like he could actually want to be closer to you. It distracts you, so much in fact that you barely notice you’d made it to your dorm. You turn to him, clearing your throat.
“Um, thank you. For coming to watch me. None of my roommates could come.” You say, smiling slightly.
He shakes his head like it’s nothing, “You’ve come to watch me multiple times, it’s only fair. Plus, I did actually want to see you skate out of practice.”
You swallow, smiling, “I know, but..” You stop yourself then continue, “Anyway, I hope it wasn’t too boring.”
He shakes his head again, more vehemently this time.
You both stand there silently for a minute, before he clears his throat.
“I should probably go,” He says, and you’re sharing your agreement before he even has a chance, but he doesn’t move.
You move before your mind even has the chance to catch up, pressing your lips to his cheek, managing out a ‘good night’ and rushing into your dorm. You don’t look back, too nervous but you still can’t help the smile on your face the entire night when you finally manage to register what you did, the underlying worry of a ruined friendship pushed down by everything else.
Summary: Daeron Targaryen leads a troubled life, the only solace he has amongst everything is you, his wife.
Tags: fluff and smut, hurt/comfort-ish, bathing together, cuddling, alcoholism, withdrawal symptoms, fingering, breast play, finger sucking, making out, marking, riding, crying during sex, praise kink, felt super freakalicious writing this.
Word Count: ~2.1K
You had just gotten into the bathtub when your husband finally stumbled through the doors of your shared chambers. He had been caught up all day with some formal business with his father that had required him to remain sober and the toll it had taken on him was clear. His hands were shaky, his movements sluggish, his eyes teary and distant and his skin coated in a thin layer of sweat. You watched as his eyes scanned the room until they landed on you and watched as his shoulders sagged in the relief of finding your comforting presence, yet still he did not move. You sighed and reached out a hand which he promptly walked over and took.
“You look as if you just faced the seven themselves, my husband.” You breathed, not wanting to break the careful silence as you swept your thumb across the back of his hand reassuringly. He offered you a halfhearted smile and your heart cried for him.
“I feel as if I have, gods, is there any wine in here?"
It was rare to see him sober and vulnerable like this and you did not wish to lose him so his drunken state yet. You tugged on his hand again to get his attention.
“Perhaps you can join me in the bath while we wait for the servants to bring some up? It may be nice for you to wash the aches of the day away and I know I’d enjoy the company.”
He actually smiled at that before releasing your hand to begin undoing the clasp of his cloaking, taking the rest of his clothes off with shaky hands as you watched him. Once he was fully bare he stepped into the large tub with you, sinking into the waters at the opposite end. His eyes settled on you and a weary grin spread across his lips, you couldn’t help but flush as the sight was agonisingly attractive.
“You’re so far away,” He murmured, hand finding your ankle under the waters to urge you closer to him, “I’ve missed you while I was gone, don’t make me miss you more now i’m here.”
You smiled at his neediness and moved closer, settling yourself on your knees between his open legs. You wordlessly brought your hands up to cradle either side of his face, sweeping your thumbs across the apples of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered closed and a sigh escaped him at the contact. His hand slid delicately up your body under the water until it was resting on your lower back, gently pushing in a silent beg you couldn’t ignore. You leaned forward to slowly connect your lips. The kiss was slow and unhurried, slightly sloppy most likely due to exhaustion. You stayed tangled for a long moment before pulling back, ignoring the sound of protest from Daeron as you reached for the soap on the table next to the bath.
He watched you intently as you brought the rosemary scented soap into the water to wet it before beginning to lather it gently onto his broad chest. His arms that were still resting lazily on your hips began to trace small circles on your flesh and it took everything in your to pretend the motion wasn’t making you melt. You ran the bar of soap along his biceps and watched as his head fell back against the rim of the tub as his eyes fluttered shut. The tantalising line of his neck was exposed and you couldn’t help yourself as you leaned in to start kissing along it, lightly nipping at the skin there as he hummed.
“I thought we were in here to wash.”
He peeked an eye open and tilted his head down to look at you. Smiling slightly as he spoke.
“I can multitask.”
You couldn’t keep the mischief out of your voice and you ran your freehand back across his firm chest. His hands tightened on your hips and your breath caught. You watched as he hummed and dragged one of his hands up your arm and along to your hand so he could take the soap. You looked at him confused and he just gestured for you to turn around.
“At least let me wash you before we multitask or else we’ll never get clean.”
You nodded, smiling as you maneuvered yourself so your back was to his chest. He dragged his lips across your shoulders gently before moving to kiss up your neck. One of his hands began rubbing the soap he’d lathered on his palms into the planes of your back while the other wrapped around your waist to keep you close while he worked. Eventually his free hand left you to get more soap before it drifted round to join the other at your front and they massaged it into the flesh of your stomach. You relaxed back against his front fully, your core clenching as his hands slid up to massage your breasts slowly. You let your head fall back and a breathy moan escaped when he leant in to continue sucking on the skin there. You gasped as he found that particularly sensitive spot behind your ear right as his hand slid down between your legs, nimble fingers parting your lips before he dragged them through your folds. The other hand at your breast had begun to circle and pinch your nipple and you felt your mind begin to cloud over from the sensations. When the soft pads of his index and middle fingers found your pearl a loud moan tore out your throat, your hips beginning to squirm from the ministrations.
He played you like a bard plays a lute, with deft skill and a laziness typical of him. He touched you as if he had all the time in the world and it very nearly made you believe like you did. You reached up to grasp the hair at the back of his so you could turn it to connect your lips, the kiss sloppy and slow, tongues mashing together desperately. You broke apart with a gasp as his fingers slid inside of you, beginning a slow drag in and out against your walls, curling slightly as his palm ground against your clit. Your back arched desperately and you felt his quickly stiffening cock against your backside and couldn’t resist grinding back against it. He continued to move his fingers within you as you clenched around him and his other hand finally released your breasts to move up your body until you felt two fingers press against your bottom lip, begging for entry. You welcomed them in and sucked on them, earning yourself a groan from him as his hips started to grind back up against you. The water of the tub was sloshing against the sides of the tub and down onto the stony floor below as your movements grew more frantic and you came closer to your peak. His fingers left your mouth to grip the side of his face so he could kiss you properly and you came intensely with a cry against his lips, the sensation eclipsing your whole body as your legs shook.
When you drew apart to rest your forehead against his you huffed out a breath. The water was lukewarm by now and both of you were beginning to prune up from being in the water so long. You ran your fingers through the damp tresses of his hair and you whispered against his lips.
“Let's go to bed.”
You stood from his lap on shaky legs, taking his hand in yours as your supple flesh was exposed to the cold air. He seemed entranced, eyes tracing the droplets that raced down your neck and over the now stiff peaks of your nipples. His hand shook in yours and you had to give it a light tug to properly get his attention. He stood, towering over you in the tub and you stepped out carefully, your eyes not parting from his. The hunger in them was intoxicating and you had to turn away from him as you led him back to your bedchamber. Once you reached the grand four poster bed you turned so you could push him back onto it and he took the cue to shuffle up so his head was resting against the plush velvet pillows. You crawled your way up over him, your damp hair falling wildly and making you look as feral as you felt. He watched you wordlessly, his hands clenching and unclenching in the fabric of the covers as he fought the urge to reach out and tug you closer. Once you were finally on top of him you bent down to connect your lips again, kissing him roughly as you finally lowered your hips to rub up and down the length of him, coating him with your wetness. He groaned into your mouth and his hand finally came up to grasp you, a hand in your hair and the other between your shoulder blades to push you closer. Eventually you disconnected your lips and reached back to line him up with your entrance, sinking down with a gasp at the stretch. Daeron didn’t look any better as his head flew back into the pillows with a loud moan, jaw hanging open as you clenched around him. You sat up straight, bracing your hands on his chest for leverage and started to rock yourself against him. His hands flew to your hips, gripping hard into the flesh in a way you were certain would leave marks. His eyes were sealed shut as he panted at the feel of you.
“Daeron, my love,” He whimpered at the sound of your voice and you had to bite back a grin, “open your eyes darling, I wish to see you.”
He clearly struggled but his eyes fluttered open cautiously, a loud groan escaped as he locked onto the sight of your naked body grinding against his. You felt his hands tighten as he began to move you so you were bouncing up and down on him. You choked and one of your hands slipped from his chest to grasp the bedding next to his head as you keeled over, his cock reaching new depths within you. Your breasts were just above his face and he couldn’t resist as he pushed himself up with one arm so he could enclose his lips around one of your nipples again. Your hand that was on his chest flew up to hold his head against you as you practically cried out.
“Gods Daeron you’re so fucking good I love you s’much!”
His reaction was instantaneous as you felt his dick jump inside of you and his lips suck particularly harshly into the flesh of your chest, most likely leaving a mark. You slammed down on him harder as you felt yourself getting closer to your climax once again. From the way he was breathing raggedly you could tell he wasn’t far off either, you felt as his wet tears hit your skin from the overwhelming sensations. You grasped the hand that wasn’t supporting him to move it down to rub against your clit once more, bringing you over the edge with a cry that had you collapsing onto him. You felt his cum fill you moments later as he followed behind you.
You both lay panting on top of each other for a moment before Daeron carefully rolled you over to lay you on your back so he could fetch a wet cloth from the washroom. He gently rubbed it over you, cleaning you up as you watched him, too blissed out to do anything else. Eventually he settled into the bed, pulling the covers over the top of the two of you as you rested your head on his chest, a leg slung over his hip and your fingers tracing little shapes into his skin. It was achingly quiet for a moment before he broke the silence.
“A clever little trick, distracting me from the wine.” He breathed out as he stroked your hair. You lifted your head up to rest your chin on his chest as you gave him a sheepish look.
“Sorry…”
He chuckled, the sound filled with warmth and your guilt dissipated slightly.
“Don’t apologise my love, this was far more enjoyable.”
A/N: Slightly inspired by Benedict and Sophie in that damn bathtub in Bridgerton....
guys idek whos gonna see this but istg ive got like no motivation or ideas for writing and i am working on my tanselle work but its slow progress 💔💔 also school is kicking my ass but tgats less important than fanfiction so who cares (jokes guys focus on school..)
