#kendrapendragon

[joannaoftarth]

Lawyer / Cop AU

Rating: Mature 

 - - -

With a bang the crimson leather suitcase lands on the worn table. Next, Jaime Lannister lands in the squeaky chair. Tyrion looks him over. His smile says it all. "So you did take her home." The smile gets crooked. There is a shine in his big brother's eyes that's been missing for years. "Oh?" Tyrion raises an eyebrow. Jaime leans over, pinches his lower lip with his fingers. When his eyes flutter close for a moment, a surge of gratitude surges through Tyrion. "All weekend. By the time she was done with me, I was cross-eyed and ready to die." "That good?" Jaime bites his lip, looking around, leaning a bit closer. "She was unbelievable. Shy at first, but once she...was convinced I was into her, gods...the things she did to me..." "What things?" Jaime actually blushes and clears his throat. "As Bronn would put it...turns out I'm a bottom." A laugh bursts out of Tyrion. His brother punches him in the arm. It doesn't stop him. "Shut up", he growls and straightens in his seat, straightens his tie. While Tyrion calms down, the older Lannister flips the suitcase open and takes out the files. By the time he peruses his notes the younger Lannister has stopped laughing. The brothers focus on their work until the jury and the prosecution fill the room. "Court in session! Rise for Judge Stark." The room rises until judge Robb Stark takes his seat. "The youngest judge in Westeros. Old Ned would be so proud", Jaime can't help but snarl as they sit down again and the session starts. "We knew what we're getting ourselves into taking this case." "You. You took the case. And insisted on me joining. Gods know why." "Because there's been bad blood between our families too long." "You just want to get on their good side to get their blessing dating Sansa. Who is way too young for you." "So's your blonde amazon goddess. That didn't stop you from letting her peg you." Jaime's face explodes into a furios blush, making his brother chuckle. "Fuck off, Tyrion." "Oh, relax. I'm happy for you. I was worried our sweet sister killed your cock for good. Good to know it's still working. I was worried." "...Me too", Jaime admits. Then that dreamy smile blooms on his face again. "You definitely have to tell me every juicy detail about that weekend. Tonight, at the Crossed Swords?" "Actually, I -" "Oh? So this wasn't a one time thing?" "27 times, actually", Jaime smirks, "and no. At least I hope not. We haven't talked about it, but she gave me her number...actually, that's a lie she left her phone unlocked when she used the bathroom and I panickly typed her number into mine - there's a lot of guys in her phone, which is a little concerning but...yeah, I really want to call her. It's been the best weekend of my life. And not just the sex. Gods, the sex! But everything else...she's lovely. Really lovely. We have a lot in common. Music, movies, historical weapons..." he chuckles, "we actually sparred with the Valyrian swords. Naked. It was glorious." Tyrion fake gasps and presses a hand to his heart. "Father's priceless heirloom swords, which he gave you for your 30th birthday under the blood oath to never take them out of their scabbards?!" Jaime grins. "Naughty boy!" A very telling flush spreads on his cheeks. "Oh dear gods. That's what she called you!" "Shhh! Shut up!" Tyrion chuckles. Oh, he will have fun teasing his brother with that one. "Prosecution, I understand there has been a last minute switch in the police witness?" Judge Stark asks the attorney. "Yes, your honor. Unfortunately, officer Payne has fallen ill. Instead, his commanding officer, who has been present during the arrest, will take the stand. Lt. Brienne Tarth." Two not so golden heads shoot up. "Fuck me!" Tyrion mumbles and glares at his brother. "No", Jaime whispers helplessly. With dread cleary written on his face he stares as the double doors. They open. The blonde amazon goddess who's rocked his world walks in. In her uniform. Her badge reflecting the light. Her hat tugged under her arm. Her back straight. Every step confident. "You had no idea she was a cop", Tyrion deduces from the look on Jaime's face. "None. We talked about everything except our jobs." Jaime gasps. The footsteps pause. A moment of complete silence. Jaime blushes. So does the police officer. Then she ducks her head, hastes over to Mr. Tarly and whispers something to him. The older man looks over to them. "Really?!" Jaime wants to punch him in the face. "Your honor, may I approach the bench, please? It seems we have a problem." "Fine. Attorneys, approach the bench." They do. Jaime having a hard time tearing his eyes off of his amazon. Tyrion needs to clear his throat. "Your honor", Tarly starts, his tone not hiding it's absolute glee, "as Lt. Tarth just informed me, she had intercourse with the defendant Mr. Lannister." Tyrion sees how Jaime makes a fist, knuckles white. There are two insults in this sentence. All three of them know Tarly didn't specify which Lannister on purpose. Which is a joke, for Tyrion has a lot more experience than Jaime. Maybe that will change in the future, Tyrion muses, if the amazon still wants him. There is no love lost between police and defence attorneys. "That's a low shot, Lannister", Stark snarls, "even for you." From the way the young wolf glowers at him, Jaime realizes that the Robb in Brienne's phone is him. "I had no idea she's a cop. We met at a bar, like people do. That's all. I didn't know." His head snaps around and for a second Tyrion thinks he might shout it out aloud. Lt. Tarth is looking at him with big blue eyes. Hurt. Very hurt. Jaime huffs out a breath. His jaw flexes. Oh, he's got it bad for the amazon. "There obviously is a conflict of interest, so the prosecution proposes to exclude Mr. Lannister from this case." Stark looks from Jaime to Brienne. His hands are fists. "Attorneys, meet me my room. Mr. Tarly, bring Lt. Tarth. Court adjurned." He grabs the gavel and slams it down, then rises and throws a look at Brienne as he leaves the room. "Oh, I'm gonna love this", Tarly chuckles and walks over to Brienne. They talk, she nods, glances at Jaime and follows Tarly out of the room. "Well, this case just has gotten a lot more...interesting." "Yes." Jaime growls. The brothers start following Tarly and Brienne. "You want her to fuck you wearing that uniform, don't you?" "Fuck, yes", Jaime sighs dreamily. Tyrion smirks. "Naughty boy."

[sherlollyresources]

kendrapendragon reblogged your photoset and added: “Sherlolly Parent-lolly with a daughter + aesthetic gifs Part 2 ...”

omg these are so inspiring! Heart is melting into a puddle! Send help!

deemura replied to your photoset “Sherlolly Parent-lolly with a daughter + aesthetic gifs Part 2 ...”

I like that their daughter usually looks more like Molly.

Me too! It’s a personal headcanon of mine so it does come out a lot, but if someone else has different faceclaims (i think that’s the term) the submission box is open :)

[khanolly-mizjoely]

@kendrapendragon, can you believe it? I’m actually starting to write the thing we talked about a couple years ago. Yup, I woke up with inspiration for Hologram Molly and Khan. This is the preliminary (first draft) beginning, but I hope you like it!

HOOPER.

Helm Operations Officer, Planning and Emergency Response.

He regarded the still form of the ‘woman’ stood in front of him through narrowed eyes. Marcus had created her in the image of a discarded lover, Marlena Moreau, but ‘John Harrison’ had no desire to work with such a monument to the admiral’s ego. “Alter image, authorization Singh two-two-one-b,” he recited.

“Working.” The flat female voice of the computer sounded from his private computer console, and he leaned back in his chair to observe this first, small step into his second rebellion against the slavery imposed on him by Alexander Marcus.

The man he’d vowed to destroy.

The image wavered, shimmered, then stabilized. The hologram was still female, still Caucasian, still aged at approximately late 20s, still petite and slender - but otherwise utterly different. The red hair was now a cinnamon brown; the green eyes were now a honeyed brown. The overly ripe figure - clearly designed for male fantasies - had been slimmed down. Breasts a pleasing handful rather than exaggerated mounds, hips slimmer, lips smaller, eyes slightly larger, nose upturned (that last being a sudden fit of whimsy that had overcome him late one evening after rereading A Midsummer’s Night Dream and picturing Titania with just such a nose).

Of course the hologram’s appearance didn’t matter. He could have altered it to look like anyone - his dearest (dead) friend Joachim, or Marygay, or Gregor (dead, all dead) - but instead had chosen to subvert Marcus’ fantasy woman into his own, for reasons he chose not to examine too closely.

No, appearance wasn’t important, only function - and now that he had been able to access the complex series of programs that brought the hologram into existence, he would be able to infiltrate and subtly alter those functions. Add to them. Make HOOPER more than the sum of her many parts.

“Implement Holmes protocol,” he ordered the computer, once again stating the same authorization code. The one he had gambled that neither Marcus nor his many minions had discovered. If they had, and were merely giving him enough rope to hang himself - well, he’d been a dead man for over three centuries; to truly die would be a relief at this point.

Especially since his crew, his family, were already lost to him.

He pushed away the welling grief with practiced ease. His first instinct had been to rampage, to destroy Marcus as he himself had been destroyed by the knowledge that he was truly alone in this century. But instead he’d managed to rein in his rage, cunning enough to use the savagery Marcus coveted for his own gain.

Revenge was a dish best served cold. The Klingons were attributed that aphorism, but it was the Arabs of a century previous even to his own who had first said it. “It’s very cold in space,” he whispered as he waited patiently for the results of his Holmes protocol - or his own undoing.

TBC (maybe)

[elennemigo]

"How dare you! How dare you entering a relationship with me without telling me?! Didn't you see I was heartbroken over you? Didn't you see I could barely hold back tears when you left me that night after the fall? Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you take me in your arms and bloody told me you were mine?! You arse!"

A proposal - sort of by @kendrapendragon (Pusblished on FF in Aug 9, 2013)

Sherlock and his unusual proposals are playing with Molly's patience!

Lovely one shot.  Rated k+

For Sherlolly TBT :)

[miz-joelys-sherlollilists]

Oh, wise oracle of fics. Pray tell me, dp you know if there is a 'Rendezvous with Joe Black' with Molly as Death? :3

Do you mean “Meet Joe Black”? The movie starring Brad Pitt? Either way, the answer is no, haven’t seen such a fic, sorry!!

[joannaoftarth]

Should I continue this?

Tags: Sex Worker!AU, escort!Jaime, voyeurism, loneliness, longing

 - - - -

Taking a deep breath, Brienne takes a look around, hands on her hips, her thin blue top clinging to her sweaty chest. Finally done. The last box unpacked. Brienne Tarth, daughter of a little island with same name in the Stormlands, raised by a single dad, mocked for her looks her entire life, after more of a decade of hard work, has made it to the top. CEO of the most succesful high-class security company in Westeros, she has just moved into the famous Red Keep, the high-priced apartment building for the rich and beautiful. Well, she isn't beautiful. But hella rich. If she told her young, hard studying teenage self how much money she'd have one day, she'd never have believed her. She could probably buy Tarth at this point. After all, it has been family owned once upon a time. Brienne pins the thought to her mental wall of plans and goes to take a long bath in her ridiculously big bath tub. Finally, she can actually relax in a bath. Over an hour she enjoys the hot water, the bath salts and the meditating music. Tomorrow, the stress will hit her full force. She needs to be prepared. What she isn't prepared for is the view from her bedroom on her return. She doesn't have curtains yet and the building resembles a fork, meaning the next row of apartments is right across from her. And - for whatever reason - the curtains aren't drawn either. Brienne's jaw drops. A woman, pressed against the window. Naked. A man behind her. Also naked. The first is holding on for dear life as the second's trying to pound her through the glass, apparently. From the sweat on his face and chest she can tell they've been at it for some time. A shudder runs through Brienne. Tension builds in her abdomen. Heat rises from between her legs up her body, flushing her cheeks. His tight grip on her. His puffed up chest, the drops of sweat running down his defined muscles, making them glisten in the sparse light that's coming from somewhere to the right. His jaw clenched, his full blonde hair sticking to his forehead. He's an animal rutting into that poor woman (who doesn't look in pain at all). Suddenly, as if he's heard her thought, he looks up - straight into her eyes. Brienne freezes to the spot. She can't move. She can't breathe. She can't think. Like an idiot - or a pervert - she simply stands there and watching two people have sex. Dressed in merely a royal blue bathrobe. And the guy has the audacity to smirk at her. He doesn't stop. He doesn't slow down. He just smirks at and carries on. She keeps watching him. A few minutes and then he comes, his beautiful face turning into a grimace. Brienne can feel it. She feels it like a tiny explosion that's sending wave after wave of  shameful pleasure rushing through her. Seven hells, she's coming. Coming with him. They are totally in sync. When he's done, so is she, breathless and...alone. She looks up at him, feeling cold and so fucking empty, and he is looking right back, chest heaving. The smirk is gone and for a moment she imagines she can see...understanding. Finally, she runs. Back into the bathroom, where she's going to hide for an hour, trying not to die from embarrassment. Curtains. She definitely needs curtains. Tomorrow. At first light.

~oOo~

Brienne gets the curtains. Blue and pink, the colours of her old family sigil which still hangs above the mantel in Evenfhall Hall on Tarth. While she is hanging them up, he is watching her. Wearing a jeans, bare chested, a cup of coffee in his hand. His hair wet from the shower. It's 2 in the afternoon. Did he just get up? Don't engage, she thinks sternly and climbs on the foot latter, concentrating on hanging the blasted curtains. She thinks it again when he waves at her, smirking that knowing smirk. Her fingers work faster and as soon as they are on the rails, she angrily pulls them close. Keeps them drawn for a month. Works like crazy for a month. But then... But then, one night, when she's stressed, exhausted and lonely, her eyes are straying to the curtains. Wondering. It's after midnight. Too late? Not late enough? Maybe he isn't there. ...Maybe he is. Brienne withdraws her eyes, tries to focus on something else. Looks around in her giant apartment, walks the rooms for something to do. All she hears is silence. Her feet carry her back into the bedroom. To the curtains. Feeling somewhat save cloaked in darkness, her long fingers curl into the heavy cotton. Pulls it to the side, only one blue eye peeping through. He's there. Gods, he's there. And she watches. Watches him fuck this woman. A different one. Watches him thrust into her. Watches his hands grab her hips, her shoulder...her neck. Feels the ghosts of his fingers on her skin. The ghost of his cock inside of her. Like before, arousal floods her and her eyes focus on his face, this beautiful face, drinking in his sight, the power of his hips, the strong stance, the surity of his every move. When he comes, so does she. The woman is laughing and turns around, they speak and joke. They kiss. She hates it. The woman pats his cheek and slaps his ass as she walks away from the full length window. He chuckles, turns and looks after her (giving Brienne an excellent view of his absolutely perfect little hiny), runs a hand through his full blonde hair - and turns back to the window. Giving her the front view. Dear Gods in the seven heavens. And then he smiles at her. Directly at her. Brienne shrieks and jumps back, her heart pounding in her chest. How did he- ?! ~oOo~ Although she doesn't want to, she returns to the window. Night after night after night. For almost a month. She finds out his routine. And it is a routine. It's almost always the same. He brings home a woman - there are so many! -, he pours them a drink, they talk for  a while on the couch. Until he gives them that smile (it's so different from the ones he gives her, so...fake), takes their drink out of their hand, kisses their neck - and then the rest. Even from the distance she can see how fantastic he is. The women all leave satisfied. None of them stays over, never. He always showers after and, only wearing sweats, spends an hour or so in a black leather lounger, nursing a tumblr of alcohol, staring into the darkness - or at her. Sometimes, she lets him, her cheeks aflame with shame and embarrassment. It's only fair. In these moments, Brienne realizes how very alone she is. Because this, them sitting in their loungers and staring at each other gives her so much comfort. There is a calmness in his eyes that somehow soothes her to a point where she goes to bed and sleep. Sometimes, he watches her. She leaves her curtains open wide enough for him to see her as she settles in. He's always there, standing right in front of the window, giving her a sweet little smile. Watching over her until she falls asleep.   She hasn't slept that well in years. ~oOo~ If it had been up to her, it could have gone like this forever. Brienne was sleeping well, was attacking her day relaxed and energetic. It is one of these mornings, however, when this little bubble bursts. He's there. In the elevator. Her elevator. It dings, the doors slide open and. There. He. Is. Wearing shades and that damned smirk. Brienne's heart goes full stop. As does her mind and her body. He has to hold the door open for her. His arrogant chuckles shakes her out of it. She hates how this little noise rains down her back, leaving goosebumps. It turns her instinct to flee into stubborness. Straightening to her full height, she steps into the cabin. Her heart is pounding like crazy. She presses the button to the lobby and takes a step back. It's a long way down. Silently she begs him to not say a word. He does. "You smell lovely." She wants to punch him in the face. When he receives no answer, he chuckles. Adjusts his shades. He smells fantastic. He reaches into the backpocket of his very tight jeans and pulls out a card. Holds it out ot her. Brienne stares at it for a long moment. A golden lion on white paper. Then at his hand. She's spent hours watching his hand. A shiver down her front, pooling between her legs. She hates that her fingers are shaking when she finally takes the damn card. As she turns it around, her heart skips a beat. His name. His number. Jaime. It fits him perfectly. He couldn't have had a different name. Her heart is thumping in her throat. Involuntarily, her eyes rise up to his. Damn those shades. She would have loved to see those eyes. She never quite figured out if they are green or blue. His smile gets crooked and she realizes her mouth is hanging open. She snaps it shut. She doesn't know what to do. To say. How to act. At work, she has a firm personality in place. Confident, firm but fair. She can't slip into it now. This man has seen her in a towel. In her nightshirt. She has seen this man naked, having sex, climaxing and post-coital. She has seen him on his knees giving oral countless of times. Shouldn't she have the upper hand? Shouldn't she be the confident one? As if he is reading her mind, he explains all of these past weeks with one sentence: "I'm a whore." Brienne blinks. He is still smiling. "Companion. That's the fancy word the rich use. But in the end, that's what it is. They pay me, I fuck them. Sometimes accompany them to an event, a party, a charity, you name it. I clean up nice. You should see me in a tux." Another smirk. "I have time in my schedule for one more client." She's so busy trying to comprehend what is happening that she is completely missing what he is offering. "W-what?" she stumbles like an idiot. He takes a step towards her. Takes off his sunglasses. Green. His eyes are green. A deep, crystal sea green. Beautiful. His touch comes so unexpected she flinches. Once again she freezes to the spot. His fingertips slide up her bare arm. Goosebumps explode on the entirty of her skin. She doesn't like being touched. She longed to be touched by him for weeks. And now it's happening and her mind is so fuzzy she can't believe it's truly happening. Jaime... His eyes. His eyes. "I'll take good care of you", he whispers, his voice so soft, his look so tender. I'm not a ten-year-old, she wants to shout at him. Doesn't. Instead her lips part and she leans in. A flash of something in his eyes she recognizes too late. All of a sudden his hand is in her neck and he's pulling her down and - His lips are warm. Incredibly soft. When his tongue comes, she parts her lips and lets it in. A noise comes out of her she's never heard before. Immediately his arms come around her, pull her close. So close. He's so warm. So strong. So very strong. She sways. Wants to steady herself. "I've got you, sweetling", he whispers against her lips. Kisses her again. Tears fill her eyes. Before she knows what she's doing she's clinging to him like a drowning woman. He's so wonderfully tall and strong. For the first time in her life she doesn't feel like a freak in a man's arms. He's got her. She never wants to stop kissing him. Unfortunately, the elevator dings and the doors slide open. "Oh my!" Brienne jumps out of his arms. With a head red as a tomato she mumbles a hasty apology to the elderly woman waiting to get in the elevator. His hand curls around her wrist, but she pulls herself free and runs. Her driver Podrick hesitantly makes her aware that her lipstick is smeared. Brienne spends the next few minutes fixing it. Her fingers shaking. Her heart drumming. His taste lingering in her mouth.

 - - - 

What do you think? This is just a first, rough draft. But I think there should be more sex worker AUs in our ship. I’m also playing around with an escort!Brienne idea...

Oh maaaaaan, all these plot bunnies. Will they ever get written?!

[joannaoftarth]

Figment Friday

So, this is a snippet of a WIP I haven’t posted yet. However, I really like this scene. 

In need for some soft stump cuddles? Please see below: 

Jaime smiled and turned his head to kiss her wrist. He heard her heart skip a beat.

"Oh?" With a boyish smirk he kissed her wrist again, brushed his parted lips over it, teased the skin with his tongue.

Brienne's nipple hardened within seconds, poking into his ear. A warm shiver ran through him as he felt her arousal and with a little growl he nipped at the very sensitive skin with his teeth. His wench let out a surprisingly girlish gasp.

Jaime chuckled and looked up at her. Her cheeks were glowing.

"Interesting", he purred as he lifted himself up to loom over her. "Very interesting."

"Shut up", Brienne retorted, trying to sound annoyed and failing spectacularly. It only widened his smile.

"If you lift your wrist, I'll do it some more."

"What?! No!" She looked away, her blue eyes brightened by the pink in her cheeks, then she glanced at him again. "If you want to do it, lift the wrist yourself."

Jaime smirked, but there was a pinch in his heart.

"I'm lying on my left, wenchy. I've got no hand left to lift it with."

"You've got your arm though."

His heart skipped a beat. His eyes must have given away the longing he felt in his chest, for a knowing smirk grew on her lips.

"If you kiss mine, I'll kiss yours."

Gods, this woman. Hidden beneath the ugly mask lay the cleverest temptress, seeing all his needs and weaknesses, all his longings.

"Kiss my mouth, first", Jaime panted and came down on her, fast like a hawk. For a moment he stunned her with his attack, but only a second did she need to recover and trap him on top of her with her long, strong arms.

It was heaven. All seven of them.

After they parted, they shyly looked at each other. Brienne gave him an encouraging nod, her big eyes oh so beautiful. Jaime took a breath, pressing his lips together. To hide his stump, to move it out of sight, to not let it be in the way had become an instinct. To overcome it was surprisingly difficult.

He gulped. Felt ugly and wrong when he looked at it lying next to her elbow. A gentle kiss on his jaw made him close his eyes and rest his forehead against Brienne's.

"It's a part of you", she whispered and kissed his cheek.

No, came a scream from within him. This is not me. I'm not this ugly stump. I'm beautiful, perfect. All my life people told me how beautiful I am, until my maiming. I've not been beautiful since!

"Trust me."

Her hand gently stroked his cheek, wiping a tear away Jaime hadn't realized he had spilled.

"Trust me, Jaime", she repeated, her voice so soft it reached the deepest corner of his heart.

Sucking in his bottom lip and biting down on it hard, he watched his stump as he commanded the muscles in his arm to move. There was a surge of repulsion when he saw and felt his scarred end slowly slide up her arm.

That ugly thing shouldn't touch her. She deserved caresses of the softest kind. What could it do for her?

Brienne let out a sweet little hum. At first he thought she was trying to be kind, to motivate him, but then he watched goose flesh spread on her lower arm. Yet, he didn't dare to look into her eyes, focused on their arms instead. The light blonde hairs shone in the sunlight coming from behind his shoulder.

At first he felt a bit like a wind shield wiper. His movements felt robotic. There was no finesse in it whatsoever, no tenderness. It was frustrating. He felt like an idiot.

"Don't stop."

Was she in his head now? Or could she simply read his body so well already that she knew how uncomfortable he was?

"I hate this", he confessed.

"Does it hurt you?"

"No."

"Then keep going. My upper arm, too, please."

When he moved his stump upwards, he poked it into her bicep. Brienne smiled against his cheek and kissed him. "Don't stop."

"You can't possibly enjoy this."

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Lannister", she whispered way to sweetly, her plush lips wandering across his cheek, up to his temple, down to his jaw.

"If I had my right hand, I could-"

"No", she interrupted him and sucked his earlobe between her lips. A burst of arousal in the mids of discomfort. "That hand is gone, Jaime. But you have your wrist...and it feels lovely."

Jaime snorted, yet he continued to brush his stump up and down her arm, trying - and succeeding - to spread more goosebumps on her skin.

His girlfriend let out another little hum and a sigh. She nuzzled her face against his and rested it there as she - apparently - enjoyed his "caresses" with his wrist.

Whenever he felt like stopping, she told him to continue. Jaime learned that her skin was especially sensitive around her elbow and on the inside of her lower arm, right above her wrist.

"Turn your arm", he ordered, at which she gave him a simple "no" as a reply. Jaime huffed. Stupid, stubborn, wench. He would stop now!

Biting his lip, he wandered to her hand and, with a fast beating heart and another sting of disgust, gently pushed his wrist into her palm. Instantly her fingers curled around and held onto it. Jaime felt a smile against his cheek as he clumsily adjusted the position of her arm so he could caress the inside, as well.

"Clever man", came her ironic whisper, "so inventive."

"Shut it or I'll stop."

"You won't."

"Won't I?"

"No." The horrid wench had the audacity to smile into his skin again.

"Why not?" he half snapped, his eyes following his stump on his journey up and down her arm, trying to find new routes, trying to be more tender.

"Because you know how much it means to me that you touch me", Brienne whispered, the smile fading, her lips brushing to the corner of his mouth, "because you know how much I long for your touch...Jaime mine..."

"Brienne..."

Their mouths found each other for a deep, oh so deep kiss.

Gods, yes, she was strong and independent and robust, but she needed his tenderness just as much as he needed hers.

"I'll keep going", he whispered huskily against her warm mouth, making her smile and bury her face in his neck.

She thanked him softly and breathed in his scent as he kept caressing her for minutes and minutes. His arm began hurting but he continued. He would continue until his arm fell off if that was what she wanted. His sweet Brienne. His girlfriend. His love.

Those hums she made were exquisite and lovely and he memorized them all. She had never made such sounds before and he loved them. When her breathing began to even out, he snapped out of his concentration.

"Are you falling asleep?"

"Hm. It's so wonderful. Don't stop."

She snuggled against him.

"I won't", he ensured her gently and didn't until she was fast asleep.

Slowly Jaime leaned back and looked at her for a long while, marvelling at the wonder that was Brienne Tarth. That she had chosen him. When she mumbled something incoherent and snuggled closer, he smiled.

There was so much more love in his heart for her today. Would it never stop growing? He hoped not as he watched her, a strand of hair falling into her eye.

Unthinkingly he reached out with his right and paused when he saw his stump. He gulped, took a deep breath, then he gently, very carefully brushed the strand away with his wrist. And - since her head didn't explode - he dared to brush his scarred skin over her temple and down along her cheek to her jaw.

It felt weird, touching her like this. Also, intimate. And wonderful.

Sure that she wouldn't hear, Jaime leaned down, kissed her temple and whispered the words his heart was already singing, just so the world knew.

A little more time, a little more trust and she would know, too.

[mizjoely]

kendrapendragon

  If I wrote Reylo I would totally write a Ben...

Kidding �� Happy Valentinesday Joelle! Hope you’re well ��

LOL It’s all good! Hope you’re well, too!!