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darlingofvalyria · 8 months

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❝—Aemond, just shove your fist up my skirt!❞

part 02 | baby, all you gotta do is trust me

chapter summary:

[ Cregan is a menace in bed (sexily), Aemond is a menace on social media (derogatory), Helaena is a menace (lovingly). ]

[ 4,715 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— smutty beginnings, a bit angsty, mostly fluff - nsfw: p & v sex, orgasm denial, degradation kink, mating press - lemme just introduce you to firefighter!cregan stark ahe - toxic alysmond but both of them are at fault, fwb situations, fake dating, slow-ish burn - sad sack aemy is a pathetic meow meow - viserys i has a spank kink, no i will not elaborate further - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— it's entirely my fault, i know. i made cregan too hot. aemond might be a bit op w/ his relationship with reader, but he & her have a comfortable past...soz. comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

There's this thing that Cregan does with his hips.

It's always that sweet spot when your legs are either over his shoulders or haphazardly splayed against his waist, wide open as he drilled into you like a miner trying to find gold (and he would argue that in fact, your orgasms are gold to him)—

There's that moment when he feels you clenching, when you're so close to the precipice of seeing heaven that the motherfucker of the North slows down, sweat-slicked and breathing hard, he slows down enough at the haze of you reaching orgasm where he just.

Produces waves across his body, keeping a slow, toe-curling momentum with his hips, body-waving his dick in and out of you in a slow but purposeful movement— and he's smirking down atyou're fucked out state growing irritated doing something for him.

And before you're truly out of that orgasmic state, about to curse his entire bloodline of ruined orgasms forever or push him off his own godsdamned bed and break his stupidly good penis, he's bracing himself against the side of your head, laughing— not meanly, just amused, the asshole —and asks, almost like he's just asking you for the weather, "Does the pretty little slut want to cum?"

And he's not really asking, because he's grasped your thighs, shoving you into a mating press, and having you see stars in seconds.

"You think my neighbours called 911?" he muses, fixing his hair while in front of the floor length mirror in his room as you lounge about lazily on his bed, already washed and dressed for your own shift at Meleys, sans your pants. That's still in the living room from where Cregan yanked it.

"Hm?" you ask idly, not really focused on the conversation as you scrolled through IG, rolling your eyes at Aegon's post; Hel's big brother was in Ibiza getting sun-tanned in the morning (as much as his pale as fuck skin could tan) and getting it down at clubs at night, liking it nevertheless.

"Your scream at the end there was so loud, I'm pretty sure you broke Mrs. Beesbury out of her coma." You look up at Cregan's menace of a grin, playful and goofy in his tight shirt and thick work pants for his shift at the fire station. "I might be expecting five jars of honey from Mr. Beesbury as thanks."

You roll your eyes at him, laughing. He always got like this post-orgasm; loose and goofy and prone to making the dumbest jokes. It's cute, and on a good day, it does it for you.

It's not like you don't find Cregan attractive. It's how you got into this FWB situation with him in the first place; the dark hair, the scruff on his face, the firefighter bod— and by the Seven, what. A. Bod — when he and his co-workers stumbled into Meleys two months back, seeing your former high school crush aged up and hot had you on your knees for him in the back alley faster than he can hold you from the roots of your hair and grunt.

On a good day, it's easy to see getting past the easy arrangement of sending emojis to alert you wanna get dicked down and him sending a tongue and a heart, sending memes just for the hell of it at random parts of the day— breaking the easy friendship, the nice arrangement, and see where it gets you two, with Stark. On a good day, you can be submerge in the what-if, cute couple-y scenarios and giggle.

But despite the orgasm that could shatter a septa's vows quicker than you can say 'Oh holy Mother', your good day was tentative, broken with a click.

Aemond had made his first social media post since breaking up (the latest one) with Alys.

A darkened bathroom with explicit, orange-glowed lights that covered most of his person but not the slick show of water, freshly showered, against his torso, his chest, his abs. Droplets clung in places one would imagine licking him all over.

You know that bathroom to be the one in his high class gym, one of his favourite places. Since the toxic cycle with Alys started, he frequented it more. Aemond Targaryen was a man of routines and sharp o'clocks, so you know this isn't particularly off-key for him. But the posing (mostly) completely bare with water on his wiry muscles?

"Oh, this whore." You can't help it, as much as it irritated you— because it is clearly a means to get it across that he is newly single without actually saying anything, you can just imagine his DMs firing up with notifs — you couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity.

Aemond Targaryen. Publicly posting a thirstrap.

As public as his social media can get, it's a private account with less than 200 people.

A call rings in your phone, Helaena's face flashing, and you're still giggling when she half-shrieks, "DID YOU SEE HIS IG STORY OH MY GOD."

Your gaze meets Cregan, his bushy, dark eyebrows firing upward upon being able to hear Hel's voice while you winced. You put her on speaker as Cregan giddily comes closer to the phone.

"Good evening to you too, Helaena," you say warmly, giving Cregan's arm a light kick, mouthing, 'Don't you have work?'

Stark had the audacity to shush you, pressing a finger against his lips. You mouth, 'Gossip.' In a mature response, he stuck his tongue out.

Truly a wonder that not twenty minutes ago, this man had you keening over an orgasm.

Helaena continues on, "— I've had enough of this. I already have one slutty brother, I cannot have another one. There can only be two sluts in this family and no more. And that backlit? Seven hells, the whorishness."

"Hel, babe, you are not a slut." You meet eyes with Cregan who waggles his eyebrows, pursing his lips in an air kiss. "Trust me."

Hel snorts. "I know that, I meant my father. The whore of Babylon got nothing on Viserys first of his name, spank king extraordinaire."

If you could simultaneously choke on air and saliva, you would. "Helaena Targaryen!"

Cregan smacked his entire face down on his bed and ate his covers to muffle his laughter, his body shuddering as he did his best. His ass did look good in this view.

"What? Stranger may have mercy on me, but I tell you, before he died and before their marriage imploded, and at times traumatically problematic, they sure did get it freaky when they could. They gave it a good run and traumatised me in the process. I shouldn't have insisted my room was that close to them, maybe I would have ended up being an upstanding citizen of the community."

Cregan flips up, giggles spilling him as he muffled it with his hands. You kicked him again, trying to keep him away from your phone lest Hel figure out where you were again.

"Helaena, my love, compared to your brothers, you are such an upstanding person of the citizenry, the mayor should be giving you an award at this point."

"Right? Maiden have mercy, how busy do you think your shift is going to be tonight?"

You bit your lip guiltily while Cregan smirked, standing up as he finished lacing his boots. Hel thought you had gone straight to work, making up excuses about trying out a new recipe for next month. "Um. Not sure? Probably not by much, it's a weekday."

You don't lie, not really. Cregan mouths 'liar' and throw a pillow at him.

"Good, I'll send Aemond to you tonight. I already told him yesterday and he kind of just made a noncommittal hum— praise hands for another traumatised child of Alicent Hightower who has his own brand of communications issues —" You can just see Helaena's hard eye roll, and you massaged your lips to keep your laughter. The first time you met Hel, you never would have thought she slapped-back self-deprecating jokes out of her pockets faster than you can think a response to the last one. She was sweet, kind, a floral, bohemian girl with her pastel lavender pants and daisy flower clips.

And then you met her, vibed, and there was a dark funny humour to Helaena Targaryen that you always fought just bursting out laughter at the most inopportune of moments.

As sweet and floaty as she appeared, she was a menace.

"— anyway, Mr. Social Whore is going there later tonight, I made him promise. I said if you don't tell me he didn't come, I'm posting every photo I have of him from his naked baby pics to pre-pubescent Teen Teeny-Weeny Aemond, I do not care."

You whistle. "Damn, Hel, okay, I'll tell you when he comes."

"Good. OPLAN Get Aemond Out of This Bad Track Before He Fully Becomes Aegon 2.0 has now commenced. I love my brothers, I truly do, but I can only handle one Aegon at a time. I cannot be scrolling through social media in fear for my life times two, bestie, I refuse." Hel's voice pitches. "I'll talk to you later, bye, babe."

"Bye, Hel!"

Before you could put the phone down, she calls out, teasing, "BYE CREGAN!"

Silence. Then Cregan laughs, calling out, "Bye, Hel!"

The last thing either of you heard is her tinkling giggle before she drops the call.

"Fuck," you mutter, call finished.

Cregan wolf-whistles. "She's good."

You throw another pillow. "It's because you kept giggling like a schoolgirl!"

"Excuse me, that was a manly schoolgirl giggle, I'll have you know." He picks up his keys, winking. "Come on, I'll drop you off at the bar before I pole dance the night away to my job."

You cracked, snorting through the mental image of Cregan Stark, Lead Firefighter of the Ice Wolves Division, shaking his ass on the pole. You pad to the living room. "I'll give you a dollar for your troubles."

"Cheap ass!" he shouts after you.

Aemond arrives two hours into your shift, a little awkward— no doubt remembering your silent judgment of him the morning of his post-break up affair as that has also been the last interaction you've had with him before this, almost a week ago, and now here, meeting you at the insistence (and plotting) of his sister.

Your eyes meet ice water blue. He freezes, then straightens up, giving you a shrewd tilt forward. A nod. It's jerky, mechanical. You roll your eyes, mouth twitching, before you motion him over.

You are already making his favoured drink starter, Sazerac, when he slides into an empty seat on the bar. Your back is to him, refusing anymore interaction, and you know the usual comfort he finds in the eased silence you provide is nonexistent.

Out of all of Helaena's brothers, you've always liked Aemond the most. You teased him it was because the others are Aegon, duh, and Daeron, still in high school and never really around you "old people", but it's also because it's so easy to be around Aemond. When Helaena introduced you to the tall, lithe man who hummed politely at his sister's introduction of you, you found him intriguing.

It's not just the scarred eye, or the pretty, almost marble-statue visage (because by gods, seriously. The Mother took her sweet, loving time crafting the fourth Targaryen, bloody hell— like those cheekbones? With that cupid's bow lip? Okay, Mother, you have your favourites, we get it), or that he tended to keep himself in the background, let everyone else stretch into the conversation.

He often dipped in and out of the social pool like a mirage; a trick of the eye. A nod, a hum— almost, always an answer to someone else's direct question or someone— usually Aegon — dragging him into the conversation with an anecdote needing an input, not matter how inane.

And it intrigued you.

You took yourself and your drink of choice at the time— a Shirley Temple — and sat right beside him. He looked up at you, that one eye of violet widening slightly because you had just. Plopped beside him, thighs touching, before he smoothens out his expression, shifting at your direct eye contact and small smile.

"Can I... help you?" he finally asks, thoroughly waylaid but trying not to appear so.

"The scar." You nodded to his face as he froze. "Tell me about it."

His face had been so controlled, so guarded, when he tersely said, "My sister didn't tell you?"

"Nope. It's not something for her to tell me, isn't it? It's a personal thing. Most scars are." You shrugged. "Even if they aren't, I'd prefer if you tell me. It's your body. Your body your story."

He stared at you for a quarter of a minute before he asked, "Are you drunk?"

"No, why?"

"You're too... forward."

You smirked. "I've been told. So are you telling me or nah, pretty boy?"

And he stared at you for a minute longer, or two, or three— the stare flickers to emotions so fast; shock, confusion, flatter, his own intrigue — before he told you about a stupid fight between children, about a stupid reason par another, and though his words had been concise, obviously keeping a hell of a lot more between vowels and tightened jaw, you don't press him. You let him talk.

At the end, you said, "Badass. Definitely less of a lame reason than what I was imagining, but 9/10 story. Your voice really sold most of it. It's good for telling stories."

In his brain, you could just see the click when his eyes flicked to his sister and back to you. Ah, so that's how they're friends. And he hums, truly, more than anything, stumped by you. And you smiled.

"You're definitely going to be my favourite Targaryen Brother."

It's no wonder then, that you two had gotten close. You had forced a friendship out of him, and the very unattached guy to literally anything new— suspicious of offerings, angry at pity, wary of kindness — had taken into it with a white flag.

So when the whole Alys situation happened, things shifted.

"Sazerac," you announce finally, placing the drink in front of him. He thanks you with a quiet hum, having stopped fidgeting now that you've acknowledged his existence. You raise your eyebrow as his sips turns to gulp, crossing your arms.

Just because you had promised Hel you were going to help him, doesn't mean you were going to make it easy for him. He knows you're pissed; despite the calm structure he had composed himself in, you can see the twitch in his fingers, the way his eye turned away from you the moment you refused to project your normal, warm aura with him.

He settles his drink down, watching the rim of the glass for a minute before he speaks, low and steady. "You're angry with me."

You snort softly. "Wonder why you think so?"

He sighs. "I didn't mean to. To let it get this... messy." He winces at the word, hating it.

You sigh. "Aemy." He comes alive at the familiar nickname, sitting straighter, a relief on the edge of a cliff. "Honestly, I don't give a shit. You want to be trapped in this mess? You don't want to listen to other people tellign you, 'hey dude, maybe no?'"

He winces, remembering the third time he and Alys had broken up. The police car, Aegon vomitting, Hel crying. It makes you roll your eyes.

"Sure, have at it. Have fun, in fact. There's only so much sympathy I can give you for seeking out the problem that you know is a problem before I get tired. Before I stop giving a shit, because there's someone else I love that is starting to get hurt by it. I can only love you enough as much as you are willing to help yourself." Your eyes then narrow, half-glaring into him. "But what I'm truly getting angry about is how much this is affecting Helaena."

"I understand." He sighs again, calling your name but you raise a hand.

"Hold on, I have a bone to pick with you."

"Okay."

You look at him. A second. He waits. And waits.

He speaks up. "Yes?"

You sigh. It's hard to stay mad at him, you've always found so. "I don't know. I had paragraphs to say to you in front of a mirror, but now that it's you I'm looking at, everything just went away." Under your breath, you mutter, "stupid pathetic meow, meow face."

His mouth twitch. Ah. The familiar Targaryen smugness. Pinch Cocky Aemond is back. "Did my face distract you too much, ñuha riña my lady?"

You roll your eyes, unable to hide your own smile. If you called him Aemy, he called you the High Valyrian, his ancestral tongue, my lady. To tease, to establish comfort. You've always liked this better, being closer to Aemond than despising him for his stupid choices and big feelings he has a hard time unraveling, so he makes said stupid choices.

It's ease, it's familiarity, and you both fall into a high step.

"Okay, nerd, so what did Hel—" A customer calls you. "—One sec. Sorry about that, what can I get you? Ooh, nice choice, alright give me a minute." As you pulled a measuring cup and gin, you nod back to Aemond. "What did Hel tell you we're doing exactly?"

"That you're helping me... with Alys." A hesitance. "I know you don't like her—"

"— whoa, hold up, Aemy, I like her. I like her very much. I think she's a bad bitch, absolutely sexy, and clearly, she has good tastes which I respect her for." He had the good graces to blush, still sort of unused by the compliments you so freely give him. "What I don't like is how your relationship with her— here, hey, you're welcome! — has evolved. You were so good with each other, Aemy. And then..."

You mimic a sound of a crash and burn, and a tiny person screaming. He huffs out a laugh before sobering.

"I know." He sighs. "I don't... I don't understand it myself. There's a part of me that recognises I should walk away. And then there's another part that is just... it's Alys."

His palms, open and upturned, falls on the counter. Pensive. Begging. A confused, wanting penitent looking up at a god asking for direction. "I've loved her for so long." His voice quiets, like the words are sacred.

"I've loved her for so long," he repeats as if the words have worn itself out on his tongue, "it's hard to see past her. Ñuha riña, she has always been my future. It's all her. I don't know anything else outside of her."

You pour an Arbor Gold in a stemmed glass and pushes it to him. It's his favourite drink and he smiles at you, at the care, at the memories.

"I understand that," you say carefully. "And I already promised Hel I'd do it, whatever you need of me, to make her see you. But you should know that I'm doing this more for her than for you because... Aems, I believe you deserve so much more. A love that's exciting without it being harmful. A love that's pretty, as easy as breathing. One that doesn't hurt at the edges and pinches like a barbed wire."

"Is that possible for me?" he asks ironically, trying for a joke but you catch that lilt at the end. At that exhale. So much of his history had been broached by pain, borne from it. There are injuries that run so deep, they continue to bleed.

"Honestly?"

He places the wineglass down. "Yes."

You smile. "Yes."

You don't know if he believes you, or if he just indulges in your starry-eyed view of his future, but he smiles nevertheless, as best as he can and murmurs a gratitude.

It's pacifying, insecurity. You let it go for now because there's nothing you can say to a person truly down to trust your words.

"You're going to do this, then?" he asks. "For Alys and I?"

You shake your head. "I'm doing this for Hel and no chores for a month." And you, to show you that there's more past a future that you and I both know doesn't exist anymore. That if you prolong it, ignore how deep the barbed wire has gotten into your skin, it'll be too hard to untangle it when you realised you've bled out enough.

So will you just wear the pain proudly after that?

You shake another order in place, pulling ice and mint. You raise an eyebrow. "I've always known I was going to help. Are you willing to do this? Honestly Aemy, this can go two ways. One, she'll realise losing you is the worst thing that can ever happen— truly losing you to someone else, or two, she thinks you're truly moving on from her. And that's assuming she even thinks it's real, like I mean come on, it's me and you."

He arches a perfect silver eyebrow. You had already asked him if he gets his eyebrows done, and apart from Helaena messing with him back in high school, has been all natural. You think he's lying.

"And what is me and you?"

"Aemy, come on. I'm your sister's best friend. We're like... I dunno, family? She's always known that."

"Doesn't mean she's never felt jealous of you," he hums, swirling his wine with pinch fingers. It's elegant. Entrancing. The red liquid swirls and there are knots and strain in his hand, going through his arm.

And despite the bags under his eye, he still looks so good. Silvery blond hair wrapped in a low half updo, the shirt that hid nothing of his muscled chest.

His words sink in, breaking you from the hypnotizing reverie of looking at a marbled statue. "What? She felt jealous of me?"

He smiles gently, a little bit cockily. "Ñuha riña. Of course she did. Just because she understood your place in my life, in Hel's, doesn't erase the fact that you're gorgeous and we get along well. She liked you, truly, but she isn't blind. It's nothing that you've done, even she knew that. You're just too perfect."

You blink at him, unable to stop yourself from blushing. He chuckles meanly.

"Shut up."

He exhales a laugh. "I didn't say anything!"

"You know what you did." You give him the stink eye before you serve two more customers, thanking at a pretty hefty tip from one of your regulars, bidding him goodnight as he left. It is a slow night, you didn't lie to Helaena.

You almost don't catch Aemond murmuring, "I've missed this. I've missed you. I never like it when you're pissed at me."

"Good," you joke. "So you can watch yourself better. But yeah, I've missed you too. So how are we doing this?"

"I thought you had an idea, having agreed to Hel's plan before I even knew there was a plan."

You roll your eyes. "Well, I've had a few ideas here and there... it's more your comfort I'm worried about."

He frowns, pouty lips pursing. "My comfort?"

You place your palms behind the bar and hitch yourself up by your physical strength. He leans forward, confused still. You smirk. "Well, Aemy, I'm wearing a skirt."

"I... I don't know what that means, ñuha riña." He blinks his one good eye. "Nice skirt? You look pretty."

You force a pout instead of getting flustered by the compliment out of the blue. "I forgot you weren't all that popular in high school."

"No need for insults," he deadpans.

You laugh. "We're going to make Alys jealous, right? It'll be too much to hard launch my new status of existence in your life when you just broke up... but... if we can allude, at least..."

"I-" His frown deepens, the skin on his other eye, the scar, pinches as you see his mind whirr and whirr where your mind was reaching. "I'm still confused."

"Gods, alright, I'll just show you."

"Dude, bro, just put your hand under my skirt—"

"Ñuha riña—"

"Yeah, you know what, godsfuckingdamnit, if I alienate you that bad just shove your fist up my skirt, yes, Aemond, just shove your fist up my skirt!"

He calls your name, tips of his ears beet red, as a few patrons turn to you two, bewildered and a little amused. You wave at them but you sigh noisily at him. You're sat beside him on the counter, your phone on one hand with the camera app open, and you're glaring at him.

"Are you seriously telling me you've never placed your hand on Alys' thigh?"

"Of course I have!" He lets out a strangled sigh and groan.

"What's the difference?"

"I've never done it so publicly," he explains as calmly as possible, as if he's talking to a child. "And with the idea of posting it for everyone else to ogle. I've always just done it... under a table. Or. On her knee..."

"You're blushing so hard, you look like a tomato?" You snort. "I'm your fake Alys now, and we're soft launching an intimate relationship. This is basic."

"You're not my fake Alys. You're not my fake anytihng and you're not Alys." he says seriously, frown sharpening into a point before he exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can't it just be my hand over yours?"

You frown, forgoing the uncomfortable twinge from not my anything and not Alys. "Is this uncomfortable for you? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"It's not that, never that." He purses his lip. "It's the opposite. I don't want to make you uncomfortable with my touch."

"Aemy," you say softly, smiling slightly. "I am giving you permission. Wouldn't have suggested it otherwise. And you touching me has never made me uncomfortable. Now, come on. Hand on my thigh, pretty boy, so I can take this pic and get the ball rolling."

There's a second more of restraint, of holding back, and before you sigh and suggest something else— maybe he is truly uncomfortable with you, with you not being anything to him, and not being Alys, but is too polite to say anything — he places his palm, warm and heavy, against your exposed thigh.

It's a... new sensation. You've held hands with Aemond before, smacked it a few times even, but it's different when it's on a more... well, when it's not on a non intimate area of your body. New skin, new nerve endings to his familiar warmth and crease.

It makes you swallow how big his hand is compared to your whole ass thigh. Thumb to pinky and he nearly swallows the gaps.

He really has pretty hands. Knotted veins twisting upward to muscled arms.

Both of you nestle in the quiet, just staring at his hand over your thigh.

"Okay," he says, voice even. He's taller than you, always taller even when you're both sat down, and he's closer to the top of your head at this distance, his breath flutters against your hair. "What now?"

"I... take the picture." You blink, shaking your head slightly, as you take his drink and add your hand within the frame so it looks like you mean to take a photo of your drink and not the glaringly obvious hand on your thigh, before you you angle it. You take one, two, three. A few different angles before you feel you've got a few nice ones. "Okay, done."

It feels cold when he takes his hand away, giving your thigh a soft tap before it's back on the counter. He hums.

You get back on the work, choosing one and posting it promptly on your stories. You place Meleys' location and a kiss mark emoji before you post it.

"It does look intimate," Aemond hums, observing the story from his own phone. "But why did you post it on your account and not mine?"

"She's your ex, Aemy," you say, hopping off the chair and moving back behind the counter. The world re-orbits. Everyone back in their positions, the lines clear. The planets move in their normal trajectory again.

"She'll know it's your hand. And if we post it on mine, it has more of an impact, don't you think? We're friends on IG. She sees it on my stories, a man's hand on her thigh, in a background that's no doubt a bar. The hand is sorta familiar. And you posted that slutty mirror pic earlier tonight."

He blushes, you smirk. Planets and moons orbit back, their pace slow, their lightyears fast. Best friend's sister. Sister's best friend.

"If she doesn't recognise your hand at first, your story will prompt it on her brain. It's not a hard connection, you've been together for years. It's a girl thing. An exes thing. Bingo bango, the brain is running. Surely it isn't Aemond's hand? Even if it is... is it truly romantic?"

He exhales. "You're... kind of an evil genius."

"Just kind of? Damn." And you smile because he laughs, the sound spreading warmth across your chest.

Yeah, this is better. It always feels good when you and Aemond are on the same team, when you're not mad at him and vice versa, no matter how stupid the reason.

Saturn rings snap, black holes sink and swim in galaxies so far, far away.

You put your phone on DND as soon as the first five notifs pop up, prompting a barrage of other notifications. When you took a glance at it, it's all a varying degree of 'WHAT THE FUCK', 'WHO THE FUCK', and 'GO GET THAT DICK, GIRL OMG!!'

Only Helaena's message matters, and it brings a smile on your lips.

'Noice'.

Another ping.

'Also— what a bunch of harlots'.

You show it to Aemond and both of you burst in stupid laughter.

TAGLIST (message to be added! please ensure you are able to be tagged to get notifs): @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr

#aemond angst #cregan stark x reader #best friend's brother!aemond #aemond fluff #cregan smut #hotd fluff #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #hotd x you #hotd smut #cregan stark x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#aemond fanfiction #aemond crack #aemond targaryen x reader #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

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sapphire-writes · 10 months

Text

Thin Ice (modern!HOTD)

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Cregan Stark x Reader

summary: Aegon and you spend the holidays together. Spring semester comes quickly and tensions rise between the team.

rating: Mature/Explicit/18+ (detailed warning below the cut)

series masterlist

previous chapter ~ Ch. 10: Confessions ~ next chapter

warnings: language, explicit p in v, mommy kink, oral (m-receiving), praising, slight edging/overstimulation, titty sucking, physical fighting, descriptions of blood

word count: 4.2k

note: hope you enjoy this chapter! thanks for all the love! one chapter left after this for my babies 🥹

dividers by @firefly-graphics

The tension between you and Helaena was short-lived after everything went down at the funeral. The days after the funeral were quiet, until Helaena and you talked for a long time. You told her everything. How it started with the deal and turned into something more. Helaena listened carefully, her violet eyes never leaving you.

“You know I’ll kill him, right?” she’d told you, her pretty face deadly serious, “Castrate him, chop him up into little pieces, get some Carrion Beetles-”

“Hel I know,” you’d told her with a laugh, “Wait, what are Carrion Beetles?”

“They eat the decomposing flesh of-”

“You know what!” you said, cutting her off, “I get it. But seriously, Hel,” you take her hand in yours, “Nothing would make me not be your friend anymore. Even if Aegon and I don’t work out.”

“I know,” she said in a soft voice, “I just get so scared, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand,” you told her, “And I should have been honest with you from the beginning. I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

“It’s okay,” she’d said, pulling you into a hug, “You know I love you, right? You’re my girl.”

You held onto Helaena tightly, happy tears filling your eyes, “I love you so much Hel.”

The next few weeks go by in a wonderful blur.

After Viserys’ funeral, you returned to campus for the whirlwind of finals. Aegon had passed philosophy, receiving a B- on his final. He’d stared at his phone in disbelief as the grade appeared as you’d jumped for joy. Then, like every year, you packed up a couple of bags preparing to say goodbye to KLU for the next month. Sara was always a wreck during this time, insisting you Facetime every day.

Only this winter, you join the Targaryen family again at their winter home up north. You’d gone with them last year, only for a couple of weeks, as Helaena’s plus one. This time, you were the guest of a different Targaryen.

The Targaryens were avid skiers, Aemond especially. Though you prefer the comfort of their extravagant cabin, nestled beneath several blankets with a steaming cup of hot chocolate and a good book. It was a dream come true, spending winter break with your boyfriend, and your best friend.

Well….boyfriend?

You and Aegon hadn’t really talked about it since before the funeral. You knew you were only seeing each other, and you knew the feelings you had for him that were only getting stronger with each passing day. But you hadn’t exactly defined the relationship.

Winter break was winding down, and a new semester looming with the new year. You didn’t feel eager to leave your comfortable, cozy bubble in the mountains.

“Have you been having fun?” Aegon asks, letting you snuggle against his chest. He places a kiss on top of your head as you watch the flames flicker in the fireplace.

It’s late, everyone is in bed, but you and Aegon have been confined to the couch in the living room for most of the night. The living room is spectacular, open with high ceilings with exposed beams. When you’re upstairs, you can lean over the balcony, looking down onto the living room and kitchen.

The house is quiet except for the crackling of the logs in the fireplace. You’d been watching holiday movies all afternoon with Daeron and Helaena; even Aemond had stopped in to watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. But as the night grew later, everyone headed to their respective rooms.

“Mhmm,” you answer, snuggling closer.

His shirt is so soft and smells like the new cologne Alicent had bought him for Christmas. You’d nearly jumped him the moment he’d applied some.

“Good,” Aegon murmurs into your hair, “I wish we could just stay here.”

“Me too,” you tell him, “Maybe we can hide in the hot tub.”

“Mmm and hope they forget us?” Aegon asks. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Exactly.”

“Unlikely, unfortunately,” Aegon says, causing you to sigh dramatically, “Aww, I’m sorry bunny.” He wraps his arms around you, squishing you closer to him.

You make a noise of contentment as you press closer to him. You can’t help but feel light-headed, with how warm he is and the enticing scent of his cologne. You’re definitely still in the honeymoon stage, you can’t seem to get enough of him. You glance up at him, looking through your lashes.

“What is it, pretty girl?” he asks, tapping your nose, “That face means you want something.”

You can’t help but grin. He knows you. You sit up, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace, bringing your hand to rest on his thigh. You can feel the muscle flex as you rub up and down. He’s got strong legs, Aegon Targaryen. You suppose he has to, being on the ice all the time.

“Can I….” you trail off, still rubbing his thigh, feeling the softness of his plaid pajama pants.

Aegon raises an eyebrow, eyes falling to your hand.

“Can you….what?” Aegon asks, mouth forming a smile as he finishes his sentence.

You can feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and want. You know he knows, he just wants to hear you say it. Aegon loves hearing you say filthy things.

“Let me suck your cock, baby,” you murmur, leaning forward to bury your face in the side of his neck, kissing the smooth skin, “Can I, please?”

“Fuck,” Aegon manages to choke out, “Shit, of course, you can.”

You release a satisfied hum, nipping at his neck before pushing yourself up off the sofa. Aegon hurriedly moves the blankets off of his lap, eyes nervously glancing upwards. You smirk up at him playfully.

“Nervous?” you ask, digging your nails into his thigh.

“Dirty girl,” Aegon slightly scolds, smiling down at you, “What if someone wakes up?”

“We better be quick then,” you tell him.

You bring your hands to his hips as he lifts them, letting you tug down his pajama pants and underwear freeing his thick cock. It slaps against his stomach, standing at desperate attention; the tip flushed pink and weeping, begging to be touched.

You stroke his thighs again, taking time to admire his dick, the way it curves upwards slightly, the blue veins threading their way up the underside. Pretty cock for a pretty boy.

“You just gonna stare at it?” Aegon teases, his voice nearing a whine.

You flick an eyebrow up at him. He’s teasing, but you know it's a facade. He’s as desperate for you as you are for him.

“You’ll take what I give you,” you tell him, anticipation curling in your belly.

“Oh yeah?” Aegon says, leaning forward to brush some hair from your face.

You nuzzle against his hand momentarily, before leaning forward to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, suckling lightly. Aegon hisses, a whine leaving his lips as you swipe your tongue across the slit, lapping away at the salty liquid that beaded there.

“Shhhh baby,” you murmur, barely taking your lips off his cock.

Humming in satisfaction, you close your eyes as you take more of him into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks letting him sink deeper into your mouth and down your throat. Your heart beats furiously in your chest as your lungs panic momentarily before you remember to breathe through your nose and open your eyes to gaze up at Aegon.

His jaw is slack, head thrown back, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His hand fists your hair, tugging just enough that delicious pinpricks of pain dance across your scalp. Aegon’s eyes flutter open as you remove him completely from your mouth, before licking up the underside of his shaft and engulfing him yet again.

“Jesus Christ,” Aegon moans, thighs tensing as you deepthroat him. He’s struggling to keep his voice down, as another moan escapes him.

You bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as you do so, turning your mouth into a vacuum around his length. Saliva pools in your mouth and you break away from him with a gasp, spittle coating your lips and dripping down your chin.

“My messy, pretty girl,” Aegon purrs, as you bring a hand to his shaft, stroking him as you begin to mouth at his balls, “Fuck that’s so good, baby.”

You bring your attention back to his cock, an ache beginning to form between your legs causing you to clench your thighs together for some kind of friction. You move your head around him with intense purpose. You need to make him feel good, need to make him cum down your throat. You can feel him shaking below you, inching closer and closer toward his orgasm.

“Fuck..mommy,” he whimpers suddenly, and you freeze.

You release him with a pop, a trail of saliva still connecting you to the head of his cock. Aegon’s eyes widen as your lips form a lazy smile.

“What was that, baby?” you ask, stroking his length with your hand.

Aegon’s cheeks are flushed with embarrassment and he drops his violet eyes away from your gaze. He’s silent a moment before wetting his lips.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, “Let’s just-”

“No,” you tell him, squeezing his length gently, “We’ll continue when you say it again.”

Aegon’s jaw slacks, his lavender eyes wide. You’re not letting him get away with that so easily. Not when what he said made your clit throb intensely. You can feel yourself growing wetter, thighs sticking together.

“Wh-What?” he asks softly, causing a rush of desire to wash over you.

“Say it again,” you encourage, “C’mon be a good boy.”

You lazily stroke his cock, the movement effortless with how lubricated it is with your saliva.

“Oh fuck, oh shit-” Aegon says, eyes squeezing shut.

You release your grip, stopping the pumping motion of your hand. Aegon whines in disappointment, eyes fluttering open. His mouth drops open in shock, his violet eyes are glassy with needy tears.

“Baby,” he whines, chest heaving with each inhale.

“Say it,” you encourage, bringing your lips to rest on the head of his cock. You wrap your fingers around his cock once more, tapping it against your puckered lips, “C’mon Egg.”

Aegon whimpers as you say it, sucking his lower lip between his teeth.

“Fuck, Mommy please,” he whimpers, dick twitching in your hand.

Desire burns through your veins like liquid fire hearing him say that to you, watching his lower lip tremble with the whines he lets spill free. You only hope you’re being quiet enough that no one upstairs hears.

“Good boy,” you praise him, taking him into your mouth once more.

You bob your head up and down, rewarding him for his good behavior. It sends a rush of adrenaline through you, having Aegon in the palm of your hand like this. He always seems to be the more dominant one in bed, but here on your knees in front of him, he’s at your mercy.

“Mommy, please,” he whines again, voice breaking, “Gonna cum for you.”

You hum in appreciation, popping off for a moment, stroking him with your slippery, wet hand. You bring your other hand to his balls, fondling them gently.

“I want your cum, baby, Mommy needs it,” you tell him, your voice practically a purr as you engulf him in your mouth again.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, and you feel his cock twitch, feel his warm cum paint the back of your throat as he finishes with a moan.

You keep going, keep moving your mouth around him until every drop has been drained and Aegon is a whimpering, begging mess.

“Please, Mommy, it's too much, please, please!” he whimpers as you finally release him.

You bite your lip, looking up at him as he struggles to regain his breathing. His lavender eyes are blown with lust, and he smiles down at you before grasping your elbows and dragging you up towards him. Aegon captures your lips in a heated kiss, moaning as you eagerly slip your tongue into his mouth.

You break away, only to slip off your own pajama pants before moving to sit on his lap. You straddle his waist, grinding against his lap, feeling him growing hard once more underneath you. It’s impressive, truly.

“Let me make you feel good, Mommy,” he groans, hands firmly planted on your ass and squeezing harshly.

You gasp against his mouth, and he drags his lips down your jaw to the column of your throat, leaving wet kisses in his wake. Aegon brings one of his hands in between you, looping through the lace of your panties and pulling them to the side. You raise your hips before sinking down on top of him, the stretch not failing to take your breath away.

You stay like that for a moment, lips barely touching, the fire crackling behind you. Faintly, you hear the creaking of footsteps upstairs, the opening and shutting of someone’s closet door. You and Aegon lock eyes for a moment, before dissolving into nervous giggles.

You roll your hips, connecting your lips to his once more, kissing him slowly. Aegon brings his hands to your waist again, aiding you with your bouncing on his thick cock.

“You’re doing such a good job,” you whisper into his mouth. Aegon eats your praise like he’s starved for it, kissing your neck, and your jaw, trailing down between your breasts, “Making Mommy feel so good, baby.”

Aegon whimpers at your words, tugging your shirt out of the way and bringing his hot mouth to your pebbled nipple. His free hand digs into your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Yeah?” he moans, looking up at you as he continues to suckle on your nipple.

“Yes baby,” you assure him, running your fingers through his hair, “Oh fuck, Aegon.”

The pleasure is building in your abdomen with every roll of your hips, every flick of his tongue on your nipple. When Aegon brings his hand between you to rub circles around your clit, your head falls to his shoulder. White hot pleasure tingles everywhere, from the top of your head down to your toes. Your nails scrape against his scalp and then you’re shuddering on top of him, pussy clenching around his thick cock as you soak his cock.

“Fuck,” Aegon hisses, as your clenching sends him into his second release, “Oh fuuuck.”

Aegon releases your breast, kissing his way back to your mouth. You roll your hips experimentally with his ever-softening cock still sheathed within you, causing him to let out a sharp groan.

“M’senstitive baby,” he mutters, against your lips. Teasingly, you roll your hips again, causing him to not-so-gently bite down on your lower lip.

“Ouch!” you hiss, slapping his chest lightly.

Aegon laughs softly, gazing at you as you brush some pieces of hair from his forehead. You notice him staring and pout, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What?” you ask, eyes narrowing.

“You’re just beautiful, that’s all,” Aegon says with a slight shrug.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm,” he says, smiling thoughtfully, “You know I had a thing for you last year.”

Your heart picks up speed once more. Aegon always seems to have that effect on you.

“What?” you ask, not really believing him.

“It’s true,” he assures you, “When you came on the trip last year. I kept thinking about visiting your room. Joining you in the hot tub.”

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, though you already know.

Aegon doesn’t answer. You were seeing Jason then too, which wouldn’t have been pretty.

“Timing wasn’t right,” Aegon says with a grin, “And timing is everything.”

You smile at him. He’s right. Everything ended up the way it was supposed to.

“Speaking of timing, we should probably get dressed if we don’t want someone to walk in on me seated on your cock,” you tell him, and Aegon feigns a gasp.

“I mean, I’m into exhibitionism if you’re up for it-” You slam your hand over his mouth before he can finish, but you know he’s smiling from the crinkling of his eyes.

“You’re a bad boy,” you whisper, slowly letting your hand drop.

“No no no, you said I was good,” he insists, kissing your lips.

Reluctantly, you move away from him, pulling your panties back into place and putting your pants on. Aegon does the same as you glance out the window.

“Egg look!” you gasp, walking over to the sliding glass door.

Large snowflakes have begun to fall, and a thin coating of white blankets the ground outside. The stars are bright, the moonlight shining through the trees and bathing the world in silver. You always liked winter for that reason; the stars seem brighter when it's below freezing. You press your hand to the frosty glass of the door, suppressing a shiver.

Aegon joins behind you, putting his hand on top of yours, and pressing his back against you until your breasts are pressed against the glass. Your nipples harden at the cold sensation and you let out a breathy gasp.

“We can have a quickie right here,” he teases, kissing your neck. You smile, unable to stop yourself.

“Against the door?” you ask, eyebrows raised, arching your back.

“Temperature play,” he sing-songs and you shake your head.

“Time for bed,” you tell him, taking his hand and leading him toward the stairs.

With the start of the spring semester came the first hockey scrimmage. Sara, now officially Jace’s girlfriend, was making it her permanent mission to be at every game the Knights had. Scrimmages, practices, the whole deal. Of course, you’re more than happy to tag along, especially now that you and Aegon are public.

“I mean, Cregan’s a nice guy,” Sara says with a shrug, “I’m sure they talked it out.”

Now that everyone knew you and Aegon were a thing, life was so much less stressful. Except when it came to Cregan. You’d watched them warm up together on the ice, sensing the tension from the stands. Though you admit, you were a little distracted watching Aegon do those damn hockey stretches where he’s basically thrusting against the ice. He even glanced up at you, flashing a smile as he did them.

This guy.

Your gaze drifts back to the rink, watching as the King’s Landing Knights retake the ice. The team does a lap around, and your eyes immediately find Aegon. As the team forms their positions, you look over to Cregan who stands in the net, his eyes locked on Aegon.

“Yeah,” you agree, “Yeah they totally are fine.”

“Sure,” Baela says, looking at Cregan as well, “There’s no tension or anything.”

“Oh jeez,” Rhaena says, biting her lip.

“What?” you ask, hoping you’re just being paranoid.

Baela and Rhaena exchange nervous glances.

“Nothing!” they say in unison.

Something is definitely off on the ice. With the team in general. Aegon’s pissed; you can tell by the way he’s shouting at everyone, teammates and opponents alike. Cregan’s pissed as well, calling out plays from his spot in the goal, calling time-outs, and nearly spending time in the penalty box for roughness with another player.

“This blows,” Sara says with a sigh. The Knights are down considerably, it's clear they’re going to lose this game. Even if it's just a scrimmage, it doesn’t go well for the beginning of this half of the season.

Two minutes are left on the clock and you’re feeling anxious about the game ending. You’re watching the clock when Aegon skates over, calling Cregan in the net. You can’t tell what he said, but something lights up in Cregan’s eyes.

As Aegon skates around the other side, Cregan throws his stick to the ice.

“Oh shit-” you breathe, as Cregan slams into Aegon’s back.

Aegon’s taken by surprise, falling forward, stick flying out of his grasp. In a second, he’s back on his feet, slamming himself into Cregan, the both of them crashing into the plexiglass wall. The referees are blowing their whistles like crazy, and other members of the team are pulling them apart. Aegon rips off his helmet, chucking it at Cregan from across the ice.

Cregan smacks it out of the way, breaking out of Jace’s grip and punching Aegon in the face. You see the splatter of blood paint the ice red, and hear Aegon’s laugh as he spits a wad of blood and saliva before rubbing his nose with his gloved hand. Reese Bolton has his arm around Aegon, holding him tightly as he struggles to get Cregan. Reese is a bigger guy than Egg, he holds him with ease, seemingly not caring about the blood that runs from Aegon’s face onto his arm.

Aegon and Cregan are hauled off the ice and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you.

“Holy,” Sara says, mouth hanging open.

“Fuck,” Rhaena and Baela say in unison once more.

“Thank you, Shining twins,” you grumble. You’d always refer to Baela and Rhaena as that whenever they say things at the same time. It’s a twin thing, they always argue.

“Coach is gonna murder them,” Sara says with a nod, “Damn. Jace looked so hot holding Cregan back.”

“Jesus Christ,” Baela groans, “Can you focus for one second, please?”

“It’s okay,” you assure Baela, “I just hope Egg’s okay, Cregan got him pretty good.”

“Egg loves a fight,” Rhaena tells you, “Did you see him laughing? Cregan just made his whole day.”

“I don’t know,” you say with a shake of your head.

They call the game, everyone leaves the ice in a somber mood. You wait for a while on the bleachers as the team exits the locker rooms heading out for the night. You wait with Sara as Baela and Rhaena head to Late Night, the local diner on campus to grab some food. Sara runs down the bleachers to Jace as he emerges, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Jace meets your eyes over her shoulder.

“Egg’s meeting with Coach, but he should be done soon. If you want to wait for him,” he tells you.

“Thanks, Jace,” you say with a smile.

“You sure you’re okay to wait? We can stay,” Sara tells you and you shake your head.

“Go meet Bae and Rhae, I’m good, I’ll catch up,” you tell her with a smile.

You walk down the hallway toward the locker rooms to find Aegon, running into Cregan as he leaves. You stop awkwardly, as he raises his gaze from the floor noticing you. He scoffs, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Egg’s in there,” he tells you.

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

Cregan is silent for a moment, brown eyes softening.

“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah I guess I just lost my cool for a second.”

You don’t know what to say, you just give him a nod.

“We’ve talked,” Cregan tells you, “Coach kind of insisted.”

“I’m glad,” you tell him, “I really didn’t mean to hurt you, Cregan. And I'm so sorry that I did.”

Cregan nods and continues down the hallway, brushing past you. You stand still for a moment, biting your lip, before turning.

“Hey!” you call.

He stops turning slightly at the sound of your voice.

“Are we…are we okay?” you ask him, unable to keep the hopeful tone from your voice.

Cregan sighs, his eyes tired.

“Yeah,” he finally says, “Yeah, we’re good Y/N.”

A weight lifts from your chest at his words. You don’t think you and Cregan will be friends, but being okay with each other feels better than nothing. He and Aegon are teammates after all.

Aegon.

Cregan continues down the hallway, leaving the rink and you let him go. You begin walking once more, entering the men’s locker room. It’s empty and quiet, the dripping of the showers the only sound.

“Egg?” you call, moving into the locker room.

You find him seated, freshly showered, lacing his sneakers. His hockey bag is next to him, stuffed with his pads and jersey. He tilts his head up to look at you, smiling that signature sideways grin of his.

There’s already bruising around his eyes from the force of Cregan’s punch but thankfully it looks like he didn’t break his nose. You walk over to him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face, “You are okay, right?”

“Nose still straight, teeth still here,” he assures you, placing his hand over yours.

“What happened out there?” you ask, curious about what started the fight.

Aegon shakes his head, droplets of water tickling your hand.

“Just told him to stop being a prick and guard the fucking goal,” Aegon tells you, “Set him off I guess. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him.

“Don’t be,” he says with a pout, “You’re worth every punch.”

You smile, stroking his cheek.

“I’m glad your face is okay,” you tell him.

“Would you still like me if I’m missing a few teeth?” he jokes, smiling up at you.

“I’d love you regardless,” you answer, eyes widening at the realization of what you’ve said.

Aegon is silent for a moment, just gazing up at you in wonder, as though he can’t believe you’re really here with him. You’re mumbling through an embarrassed apology when he stands, cupping your cheeks with both hands and connecting your lips. He kisses you softly for a moment and everything you were thinking before fizzles out of your head.

Until all that’s left is him.

He pulls away, smiling.

“I love you too, bunny.”

note: hope you enjoyed!! ONE CHAPTER LEFT!! WOOOOO!!!

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puppy-steve · 3 months

Text

january fic rec - b sides

not actually fics i read in january, but i need to clear out my ao3 recs to prep for the upcoming months and this seems like a good enough time to do that.

Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance - E, 14.5k, complete @lexirosewrites

tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, tattoo artist eddie, falling in love, angst with a happy ending

Steve goes into Hellfire Ink for one reason and one reason only: to have his mating bond broken. Meeting the owner, who specializes in this taboo service, is the silver lining to being blindsided at the sudden and devastating end of his twelve year marriage to Nancy. It only takes a handful of painful scarification sessions for them to redefine their expectations of love.

Little Velvet Box - E, 2.3k, complete preservedchaos

tags: modern au, marriage proposal

Steve didn’t mean to find it. He was honestly looking for one of the pairs of Christmas socks he knew Eddie kept buried in his drawer. His hand was buried in the sea of socks, rooting around for the fluffy material, when his fingers encountered a solid object.

Ask The Wife - M, 1.8k, complete unhappy_peaches

tags: secret relationship, eddie calls steve his wife

“You guys all call me and Steve “mom and dad,” so, theoretically, if that is true, that makes him my wife.”

don't let go - E, 3.9k, complete sunbleacheddie

tags: rockstar eddie, reunion sex

Eddie's been on tour for a month and has to extend his time away. He surprises Steve by coming home early.

hash brown, egg yolk (i will always love you) - G, 2.8k, complete @stevethehairington | MacksDramaticShenanigans

tags: married steddie, rockstar eddie, teacher steve, domestic fluff

Six months is a long time to be apart. A long time to go without seeing Eddie in the flesh. Without hearing his laugh, low and melodic, right against the shell of his ear. Without hugging Eddie around the middle and hooking his chin over Eddie’s shoulder while he stands at the stove and pushes something delicious around a pan. Without kissing Eddie. But so is the way of being married to a hotshot musician with a band that has more than made it big. Because that's what Eddie is. And, god, Steve couldn’t be more proud. Even if it does mean that sometimes he and Eddie have to go long stretches of time without seeing each other. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Because Eddie is home now, and he’s going to be home for a while. Corroded Coffin just wrapped up the European leg of their tour (“Fucking Europe, Stevie! Can you believe it!”) and they’ve been given a month before their North American leg is set to start. A whole entire month that Eddie already promised he will be spending at home with Steve. Starting today.

Oath of Devotion - G, 1.4k, complete @matchingbatbites

tags: steve plays dnd, extablished relationship

"Three years ago, I took my place by your side as your personal guard. I swore to care for you, to protect you from anything that would want to hurt you, and somewhere along the way, we fell in love."

nothing else matters - T, 2.4k, complete AliuIce0814

tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, unplanned pregnancy

Steve’s pretty sure there’s no pee left in his body. Still, all seven of these tests have to be wrong, right? Sure, he’s seeing Eddie Munson pretty regularly - but Eddie always wears a condom, but they never have sex when Steve’s in heat. So why are all of these pregnancy tests positive?

Indecent - M, 2.9k, complete NotEvenCloseToStraight

tags: idiot4idiot, established relationship

Steve was adorable wearing Eddie’s clothes. He was stupidly sexy wearing Eddie’s clothes. Steve was unfairly breaking Eddie’s brain wearing his clothes and it was just downright indecent. “Steve.” Eddie swallowed hard and lowered his voice. “Steve, go change.” “What?” Steve’s nose wrinkled when he frowned. “Why?” “Go change.” “But I’m comfortable.” “Go. Change.” “Eddie, I don’t understand--” “PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME!” Eddie planted his feet and pointed violently at the crop top. “SO HELP ME STEVE HARRINGTON!”

A King On His Throne - E, 4.1k, complete Papaya_Whip

tags: dom/sub, choking, pre-discussed kink

“Like what you see?” Eddie asks, teasing. “Yeah,” Steve replies dumbly. He has the decency to blush afterward, because fuck, Eddie has him so malleable and that word fell so easily from his mouth, but Eddie’s persona is starting to slip again, to give way to something severely tender underneath, and Steve shoves him into a kiss before the expression Eddie is wearing can melt him entirely. And it’s bliss; it’s Eddie’s arms wrapping around him and dragging him that last inch closer, until their bodies are flush and Steve can barely breathe. It’s Eddie chasing Steve’s tongue and moaning, loud and low, into Steve’s parted lips. It’s Eddie’s wild, gorgeous hair pulled tight in Steve’s desperate fists. Steve leverages his grasp on Eddie’s curls to pull his head back, presses a shower of kisses down the column of his throat. Scrapes his teeth there and feels as Eddie swallows around a hiss. “Fuck, Stevie,” he says, “you’ve completely ruined me.”

Bows & All - E, 3.3k, complete GodsDoggy

tags: daddy kink, transmasc steve, dom/sub, breeding kink

“What can I say?” Steve smiles. “I’m a man of my word.” Eddie snorts. “Clearly.” He looks down between them, admiring the ribbons that decorate Steve's inner thighs. “Bows and all, huh?” Steve laughs, a little breathless in his needy state. “Bows and all.”

Tiny Green Shorts - E, 2.2k, complete @hotluncheddie

tags: steve's green basketball shorts, dom/sub, free use mentions

Steve wants attention, so he puts on his old shorts from high school.

Playing House with You - E, 4.3k, complete GonzoTheGreat

tags: daddy kink, breeding kink, mommy kink

They had just moved into their own little house outside of town, it was perfect to him in every way. Thing was, it got Steve picturing them “playing house” as Eddie would call it. It was driving him crazy.

i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now) - G, 10k, complete @stevethehairington | MacksDramaticShenanigans

tags: pining, christmas fluff, getting together, first kiss, mistletoe

Steve makes a promise, Robin likes to meddle, and the spirit of Christmas strikes (out) again. And again. And again. (Until it doesn’t.)

Be My Mistake - T, 4.1k, complete flowershoplights

tags: fluff, snowball fights, love confessions

Steve and Eddie find warmth in each other during the holiday season

Your skin and bones turn into something beautiful (You know I love you so) - M, 4.2k, complete ChristinMKay

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, platonic stobin, soulmate au

Steve Harrington is born with a scream on his lips and so much love in his being that his body is covered in it. An abundance of moles, freckles, and birthmarks are speckled across his skin, painting him in constellations and stardust and affection. The nurses and doctors are congratulating Steve’s parents as they place him in the arms of his mother. They say he is blessed. Lived so many lives filled with people who loved him so much that the press of their lips against his skin had to echo through time and leave a mark.

Dial V for Virgin - E, series, complete @lexirosewrites

tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, college au, frat steve, eddie calls steve "puppy"

Rushing a fraternity so his dad will keep paying for college isn’t exactly Steve’s idea of fun. Being required to lose his virginity in order to get a bid from ABΩ somehow makes it even worse. Which is why finding graffiti in a party bathroom that says, “for a good time text Eddie 555-318-7249,” feels like a sign from the universe.

Fucked Up (Perfect) Family - E, 6.4k, complete GonzoTheGreat

tags: daddy kink, mommy kink, breeding kink, steve wants a baby and eddie's gonna give him one

He nodded. “You refer to me as the kid’s dad, yeah?” “Yeah?” “And today was different, what was different?” Something was different, he hadn’t realized that. Every other time he’d referred to Eddie as the ‘dad’ all he felt was warm contentment, like soup on a cold day. Today he freezed. Even if Dustin didn’t notice, it still happened. Which means Eddie must have seen it. “Ummm well… I don’t know? I mean I’ve always kinda liked you being a father figure to the kids if that makes sense? Like you’re the dad and I’m the mom and we’re one big happy family.”

Once Bitten (Twice Shy) - E, 22.1k, complete ParadimeShifts

tags: modern au, christmas fluff, the three muskequeers as roommates, light dom/sub

Steve’s relationship with Christmas had always been tenuous, to say the least, but it didn’t help that this was the first Christmas he would be suffering through since his ex-girlfriend had snatched up his self-esteem and taken off running the year before. He knew it was the intrinsically romantic quality of the holiday season, and nothing more. Just his lonely bones after a year of healing from heartbreak. But Eddie's arms around him when he needed them most were starting to feel a lot like love. Or: A fic inspired by George Michael's "Last Christmas".

use your words, baby - E, 4.5k, complete @infinite-orangepeel

tags: transmasc steve, established relationship, dysphoria mentions, daddy kink

“Like it’s a real cock, you mean?” Steve clarifies, brain moving at a snail’s pace since all the blood has traveled down into his swollen clit. “That’s exactly what I mean, pretty boy, but not just any random fucker’s cock. You’re too good for the rest of ‘em. Like it’s my cock. Like you’re sucking me off in a dirty bar bathroom—like that one we went to in Chicago last summer. Like you wanna get me off as fast as possible so no one catches you being such a filthy cumslut for the town freak,” Eddie kisses his abdomen, dips his tongue into his belly button, and ruts his cock against the concave part of Steve’s hip, “Suck it hard, baby. C’mon play pretend with me and I’ll moan right in your ear the whole time like it’s really mine.”

can you feel the hot blood rush? - E, 5.9k, complete GodsDoggy

tags: mommy kink, dom/sub, sub eddie, sex club, exhibitionism

A strong hand slides up the length of Eddie’s thigh, pausing right where the leather tapers off at his crotch. “You went somewhere, honey. What’s wrong?” Eddie keeps his eyes on the road as he speaks. Steve’s thumb moves in small circles over his thigh. “Thinking about stuff.” “What kind of stuff?”

summer's in the air, and baby heaven's in your eyes - E, 2.2k, complete steddieverse

tags: mommy kink, sub eddie, soft dom steve, grinding, frottage

So it's times like this, sitting together on Eddie's ass of a couch, when it feels like the Earth is spinning a lot faster than normal. Steve glistened with sweat, hair messy. The joint he's smoking is just the cherry on top. Eddie has to admit, summer really is doing him some fucking justice on this one thing. or, eddie munson has got it real bad for steve harrington during a heatwave.

let me wrap my teeth around the world - E, 1.3k, complete skwudgie

tags: transmasc steve, pussy worship, dom/sub, sub eddie, soft dom steve

Eddie Munson has a thing about dropping to his knees.

sos - T, 7.1k, complete @ikarakie

tags: post-s3, established relationship, secret relationship, accidental outting, protective wayne

eddie and steve have been dating, in secret, for nearly a year when starcourt happens. the gang find out because wayne munson turns up at the hospital, having been called there because he's steve's emergency contact. eddie isn't far behind.

in your eyes i am complete - E, 4.5k, complete bdelaney

tags: shibari, valentines day, dom/dub, daddy kink, spit kink, dacryphilia

On the one hand, Steve's really not complaining that Eddie isn’t one of those people who thinks of Valentine's Day as the “most romantic day of the year” like some of the girls he had known in high school. But on the other hand, nothing makes Steve happier than seeing Eddie happy, and he is certain that celebrating the holiday as a couple would make his boyfriend very happy. Even if he won’t outwardly admit it. So it was decided–Steve would be sweeping Eddie off his feet with the most romantic Valentine’s Day he could possibly imagine. They didn’t call him King Steve in high school for nothing.

Wake-Up Call - E, 2.2k, complete cheshiredog

tags: morning sex, established relationship, fluff

Steve groans and hugs his pillow. A little smile curls his lips though his eyes are shut. “That feel good?” Eddie asks. “You like it when I push your dick into the bed?” “Mmhmm.” “You’re so perfect like this. All pliant and sweet. Gonna feel so good fucking you into this mattress.” Steve’s grin widens. “Mmhmm.” “Fuck. I love you, Steve.” “Love you. Fuck me.” Eddie wakes up Steve with some slow morning sex.

Close, Closer - E, 5.4k, complete JCMadGirl

tags: light dom/sub, safeword use, hurt/comfort

It's going well, until it isn't. [“Do you remember when- when we told you about the Russians?” He finally chokes out, feeling like he’s balancing on the edge of a ravine. “Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes burn on his skin, like he can see right through all of Steve’s carefully constructed walls, and he knows that’s true. “You haven’t- haven’t told me everything, have you?” Steve clenches his fists. “Steve, what did they do to you?”] Or, Steve Harrington has a flashback in the middle of a scene

On My Way - E, 8.1k, complete MiraEdge

tags: booty calls, heat fic, first time bottoming

“Eddie, I want you to make me cum so hard that then I pass out. I need you to fuck this out of me until I can’t get it up anymore. If you want me to drink some water, sure, but please don’t try to make me sleep when every nerve in my fucking body is feeling like it’s on fi- Fuuck!"

just guys being dudes - E, 7.4k, complete midnightdrive

tags: threesome, accidental voyeurism, light daddy kink

“I don’t think we’ve been direct enough, so now we’re asking. You in?” Gareth sees something he maybe shouldn’t have.

breathe out (so i can breathe you in) - E, WIP kaleinope

tags: school of rock au, jewish eddie, dad steve, music teacher eddie, basketball coach steve

“You thinking of getting it for yourself?” The man continues, eyebrows raised, and that’s when Steve realises he’s just been staring, practically drooling over this stranger who's decided to strike up a conversation about a guitar. A part of him wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. “Oh, uh, no, actually.” He says, “It’s for my daughter.” Something indecipherable flickers across the man’s face, there and gone again in an instant, “How sweet.” “I don’t know what I’m looking for,” he admits, a little sheepish, “I’m not a musician, so…” he shrugs, “I have no way of knowing if this is a good guitar or not.” There’s a hint of amusement in the man’s eyes as his mouth tilts into a more crooked grin, “Well, lucky for you, I can help.” In one fluid motion, the man drops himself into a sweeping, dramatic bow. The suddenness of it startles a laugh out of Steve. “Eddie Munson, guitarist, musician extraordinaire - at your service.” His energy is infectious - Steve finds that he’s grinning, “Uh, Steve Harrington. Basketball coach, dad,” He tries to think of another good descriptor, but comes up short, “Totally at a loss, here.”

lavender haze - E, 2.9k, complete bdelaney

tags: daddy kink, lingerie, dom/sub, feminization, nipple play

Kinktober Day 16: Lingerie Eddie rakes his hands underneath Steve’s shirt, freezing when his fingers come into contact with soft lace. Pulling away with a dazed expression on his face, Steve watches timidly as Eddie slowly pulls up the hem of his polo, pausing when he encounters the soft lilac lace that stretches over Steve’s ribs. “Baby,” he rasps out, making goosebumps erupt down Steve’s arms. “What have you got here?”

you're the singer and i'm the song - E, 4.7k, complete oklahoma

tags: transmasc eddie, pussy drunk steve, light dom/sub

After hearing a rumor that Steve's fantastic at eating pussy, Eddie asks Steve to prove it to him. Steve is more than happy to oblige.

running home to your sweet nothing - E, 1.9k, complete bdelaney

tags: dom/sub, transmasc steve, somnophilia, daddy kink, comeplay

“Hi, baby,” Eddie murmurs, and Steve moans weakly into the pillow. “I’m home.” “So sleepy,” Steve slurs out. Humming quietly against Steve’s skin, he presses a wet kiss to his inner thigh before saying with a smile, “Then go back to sleep, angel.” OR Eddie comes home from his tour and just can't wait to reunite with his boyfriend. Even if he's too tired to participate.

Let them eat metal - T, 2/2, complete Dark_Rosaleen

tags: outsider pov, protective gareth

Gareth has had just about enough of Steve Harrington in the fall of '86. He sets about to do something about it. It takes an angry mob, a Corroded Coffin gig and a baseball bat full of nails for him to change his mind. Gareth gets mad, Eddie gets beat up, Steve gets violent and Wayne is just really tired of everyone's shit.

Simple Biology - E, 8/8, complete boltedfruit

tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, college au, forced proximity, getting together, period typical sexism

Steve's first real college assignment is to take care of a flour bag baby. With his class partner Eddie Munson, who happens to be an alpha. - Then Eddie snaps his jaw at the other alpha, the sound of teeth hitting teeth ringing between Steve’s ears. And from his vantage point, he swears he sees Eddie’s eyes flash red. The other alpha's hands slowly unwind from Eddie’s vest. Eddie bears down until the other cowers. It's subtle. A tilt of his head in deference. Eddie’s won. Steve’s mouth waters.

make this lovin' last - E, series, complete @aliencamper

tags: omega/omega, heat sex, nipple play, male lactation, strap-ons, scissoring

While Steve has been worshiping every inch of his pussy, he made sure that Eddie’s tiny mosquito-bite tits were ignored. Let his dusky nipples stand at attention, puffy and leaking heat milk profusely without any relief. “I know, Omega. Need you, too. Just a little longer,” Steve replies. He gives Eddie’s cock one last lick, keeping contact between his tongue and the trail of soft hairs between Eddie’s pussy and stomach as he shifts further up in their nest. The movement provides a hint of friction where the blanket drags against his nipples and slick-covered cock and Steve knows he won’t be able to maintain this composure for much longer. His eyes stay locked on Eddie’s and he can see the exact moment that his mate deciphers his telegraphed movements—Eddie keens deep in his throat as a fresh rush of wetness pours out and dampens the chest hair between Steve’s own tits where his sternum is pressed against Eddie’s cunt. He finally drops his gaze and allows himself to take in the sight before him, the driving reason for propping Eddie up at this angle with hands fisted in the blankets: fresh, creamy milk pooled in the hollow of Eddie’s belly button.

Love Grows - G, WIP @matchingbatbites

tags: teen dad steve, friends to lovers, slow burn, babysitter eddie

The rumors have been flying for weeks. It only took one cheerleader to see Steve Harrington out and about with a baby and soon enough the news was all over the school. Nevermind that no one else has even seen said baby, just the one accusation is enough to send the rumor mill into production. It's something that had piqued Eddie's interest, but he quickly attributed it to teenagers spreading drama, a fiction created for their own entertainment. That is, until the day Harrington shows up to school with the baby.

you've got a way with words & i'm all ears - E, series, WIP @infinite-orangepeel

tags: dom/sub, dirty talk, feminization, blow jobs, role play, first time

“-and, you’re witty. You always make people laugh with your jokes. You’re quick on your feet. Obviously, I’ve never been in bed with you, but I’d bet you could dirty talk me under the table.” Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ–under the table, on the table, next to the table, through the table… “Look, I’m flattered,” Eddie throws a hand over his chest to emphasize his point, “And, I won’t lie, my past lovers have spoken highly of my ability to talk my way around the bedroom. I’m just still not sure what you’re asking me to do? I can’t, like, coach you.” Steve sips his beer again–a longer pull of the liquid than before–as if he’s drawing the courage to say the next part straight from the can. Likely, he is. “Well, that’s the thing,” Steve earnestly meets Eddie’s gaze, “Maybe you can.” “What, you want me to wear a whistle around my neck and yell out pointers from the sidelines, while you fuck her?” Eddie laughs bitterly and chugs the rest of his own beer, biting back the pain of that image, “Not happening, man. No way.” Or, Steve needs a lesson in dirty talking to try to impress a girl & he wants Eddie to to be his teacher

Walk 'Em Like a Dog, Bitch - E, 6k, complete GonzoTheGreat

tags: dom/sub, collaring, breeding kink

The whine he let out was pitiful, if he cared he would have been a little embarrassed. “Please.” His hands were splayed on Eddie’s chest, like he wanted to keep him there. He wanted-- needed-- to feel wanted. And Eddie? Eddie supplied in abundance. “Oh sweetheart. Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Picnic Table Paradise - E, 2/2, complete VerumMortem

tags: semi-public sex, blow jobs, spit kink, praise kink

Eddie has established the picnic table behind the school as unapproachable. Thank god for that.

Since Prom - E, 8.6k, complete Dynamicpower

tags: miscommunication, idiot4idiot, touch starved steve, getting together

"Eddie's not my boyfriend." "You've been dating since prom." She said it so matter-of-factly. The sky was blue, the world was round, Steve and Eddie had been dating since prom. OR Eddie gives Steve his vest on prom night. Despite Eddie becoming increasingly more affectionate towards him, the significance of it doesn't occur to Steve until weeks later.

you can almost taste it - E, 26.8k, complete crybaby

tags: modern au, daddy kink, mommy kink, selfcest, foursome, dom/sub

"So…how do you want to do this? Mouths, hands, or do you wanna fuck?" The other Steve gulps. "I mean, I’ve never fucked a guy, but... I'd like to try." "I can definitely fuck you if you want, but first, if you’re into it, I kinda, really want you to pick me up and fuck me against a wall." alternate versions of steve keep showing up in their house, and there's only one way to get rid of them (hint: it's sex)

These Days are Long - E, 4k, complete thankyouplease

tags: daddy kink, collars, light bdsm, soft dom eddie

Steve has a terrible job working as an assistant for an entitled asshole. After a long, horrible day of taking abuse and running himself ragged, he just wants his daddy to take care of him.

Uptown Girl - E, 9.7k, complete GonzoTheGreat

tags: daddy kink, collars, valentines day, mommy kink, lingerie, dom/sub

It's Valentine's Day and Steve has been planning his gift for quite some time, hopefully Eddie will love it. And hopefully it'll get him what he wants.

Try Another Angle? - E, 8/8, complete starfishsquish

tags: 90s au, pornstar au, pining, lesbian nancy, stancy as pornstars, background steddie

Nancy is the bombshell of the 90's porn scene. Popular, poised, and pretty, she's unstoppable. What will happen when her ex (and her co-star) brings in a new hire? She's cute. She's funny, and awkward, like a baby deer. Nancy doesn't like it.

don't tell me you're bi - T, 2.5k, complete starsdontsleep

tags: misunderstandings, gay disaster eddie, getting together, fluff

Steve comes out as bisexual and Eddie is certain that it's the end of the world and a ticket to heartbreak. Robin thinks he's an oblivious idiot.

take the edge off - E, series, complete @toburnup | adure

tags: hair pulling, sexual tension, roommates, orgasm denial

What's the harm in a little casual edging between roommates?

i'll bring you flowers (in the pouring rain) - T, 6.8k, complete thismomentintime

tags: misunderstandings, fluff and angst, angst with a happy ending

"You don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home." Or: Steve thinks Eddie is his boyfriend. Eddie thinks Steve is still the asshole he used to be. Mistakes are made and lessons are learned.

To Love A Monster (under the bed) - E, 7.7k, complete AlexanderPeterson

tags: monster eddie, breeding kink, breath play

When he was little, Steve Harrington never believed in monsters under the bed. In the winter of 1986 he learned differently. Or: “The One Where Steve Harrington Gets Railed By The Monster Under His Bed”

heavy is the head - E, 3.7k, complete phoeniceae

tags: rimming, exhibitionism, quiet sex

What Steve wants… it’s not as if they’ve never done it. They’ve just never done it like that. And they sure as shit haven’t done it with Wayne Douglas Munson sitting in the very next room, only the low hum of the TV to drown out every deafening pound of Eddie’s heart. He’s still staring, heart going double time. Doesn’t budge an inch. Steve lifts one perfectly arched brow. Goddamn it. So, so stupid.

open up your lovin' arms (I want some) - T, 2.8k, complete @legitcookie

tags: pining, fluff, getting together, steve has a decent mom

Steve gets his wisdom teeth removed, Eddie's there to help, and a secret (or two) is said

here i have found some piece of mind - E, 7/7, complete @steves-strapcollection | @gerrystamour

tags: AKA MY FAVORITE FIC EVER!!!!!!, transmasc steve, rockstar eddie, platonic hellcheer, miscommunication, love confessions, modern au, masturbation (like... a lot. it's fantastic), barebacking, steve has a good mom

ger's specific tag: eddie fingers both of steve's holes a lil bit, bc when ur bf has two holes u gotta treat them right

Steve Harrington works at a hotel in Chicago, responsible for making and managing reservations for groups of all kinds: corporate, tours, entertainment, you name it. When some famous metal band signs a contract for rooms three months ahead of their concert date, Steve is swept into a flirtatious back-and-forth with someone he as been led to believe is the tour manager, Chris Cunningham, and quickly finds himself falling for the man... Eddie Munson is a rockstar still riding the high of Corroded Coffin finally, finally making it big, but with the fame he finds himself almost lonelier than he was before. So when he answers his tour manager's phone and a nice guy with a cute voice starts calling him "Chris," Eddie plays along and maybe gets a bit carried away... NOW WITH ART

Honesty Is The Best Policy - M, 1.3k, complete beetlesandstars

tags: truth serum, love confessions, first kiss

“What are you looking at?” Eddie asks. “Your mouth.” “Why?” “You have a nice mouth,” Steve says through gritted teeth. (After being dosed with a truth serum, Steve and Eddie have an interesting conversation in the car.)

Keep You Always - E, 5/5, complete novemberthorne

tags: omega eddie, omega steve, transitioning, alpha steve, gender dysphoria, sub top steve, dom bottom eddie

"God, I'm so lucky. Are you still gonna let me take care of you as an alpha, baby?" He emphasizes the question by squeezing Steve's waist. Steve just giggles. "Of course. Told you. Like to feel kept." And oh, he knows that tone. He knows the sound, he knows the taste of it, because it's what he usually licks out of Steve's mouth when he's soaring. When Eddie's treated him so good he's gone a little loopy from it. It's his favorite thing. "Good, because I like keeping you."

#cj talks #fic rec #apologies if anything is linked wrong - i tried to go over everything but i've got the flu so things may have been missed #just shoot me an ask if so!#steddie #steddie fic rec #steddie fic #this is an open letter to gonzothegreat and godsdoggy - im on my knees platonically asking for your hands in marriage

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mindblowingscience · 1 month

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The oldest Scandinavian bedrock was "born" in Greenland according to a new geological study from the University of Copenhagen. The study helps us understand the origin of continents and why Earth is possibly the only planet in our solar system with life. In a Finnish outcrop nestled between some of Northern Europe's oldest mountains, researchers have found traces of a previously hidden part of Earth's crust that points more than 3 billion years back in time and north toward Greenland.

#Science #Earth Science #Geology #Evolution #Rocks #Scandinavia #Greenland

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sarahscribbles · 1 year

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𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐚'𝐬 𝐘𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨…𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖.𝟒𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝟏𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The cut crystal glass in your hand was already half drained, but the deep burgundy liquid inside was still as warm as when you had picked it up and felt like Valhalla clasped between chilled fingertips. Obstinately - and foolishly you would now admit - you had ignored your mother’s advice to wear the soft satin gloves that perfectly complimented your gown, wishing to show off to anyone who looked in your direction the large ruby ring that your uncle had gifted you for Yule. It was a thing of beauty - a single large square stone set in three diamonds progressing in size on each side - but the frigid Ylir air had wrapped around your fingers like the hand of Hel herself when you had stepped from your carriage, almost instantly making you curse your vanity.

In your mother’s own words, your vanity would be your downfall.

It wasn’t as though you were hoping to catch the attention of a future husband - much to your mother’s neverending chagrin - but you did enjoy the envious glances that were thrown your way when you accessorised your finery with exquisite jewellery. Tonight was no different, and you had already lost count of the number of green eyed stares you had been on the receiving end of. Mixed with the roaring fire spitting and crackling behind you and the excellent food from the palace kitchens, it made throwing yourself on the mercy of the Asgardian winter worthwhile.

You took another small sip of wine, savouring the subtly sweet taste, and casually glanced around the Great Hall of the Royal Palace. The music had been playing ever since you had first arrived, but only a handful of couples were drifting around the dancefloor. Towering above them all, big and blonde and looking every inch the Crown Prince, was Thor. He held Sif in his arms and was moving completely out of time with the music, not that Sif even seemed to notice. She was looking at Thor with such affection - affection that was clearly obvious even with the vivid red mask concealing most of her face - that you couldn’t stop a genuine smile from crossing your own. Feeling the weight of your gaze, Thor eventually glanced up in your direction, breaking into a grin and waving at you over the heads of those around him. You raised a hand in silent greeting but made no move to cross the floor to them. Sif had been waiting for this night since Samhain. You weren’t about to ruin even a second of it for her.

More couples steadily began to fill the large, open space of the floor - you even caught sight of Odin leading Frigga in a dance - and your feet were itching to join them, though you were also loathe to leave the comforting warmth of the roaring fire in the grate behind you. The chill from the carriage ride from the North District to the palace still hadn’t fully melted from your bones, but you would allow yourself only a further five minutes by the flames. After all, you hadn’t spent a small fortune on your gown to spend the night in the shadows.

The glass in your hand now only contained the final dregs of wine and you glanced around the Hall for a passing servant, eager to free your hands for a night of dancing. With the crowd now thick with guests as the lesser nobility had filtered in, it was near impossible to catch sight of the dark brown uniforms of the palace staff, though even over the joyous melody of the music and the gentle murmur of the crowd one voice drifted easily and smoothly over it all.

“I specifically instructed the guards not to let any riff raff through the doors tonight.”

Loki.

Still with your back to him, you rolled your eyes. “This was clearly after you bribed your way in then?” you said, turning to give him a lazy glance. “Did they even recognise you outside Thor’s shadow?”

You saw his lip twitch beneath the deep black silk of his mask and bit back a smirk. “I could ask the same of you. How did you manage to get in tonight without your father? You’re so irrelevant I sincerely doubt anyone in this room knows who you are without the Duke.”

It was a barb meant to cut, but it only had you laugh softly into your glass. You didn’t care for fame or notoriety, didn’t care that no one in Asgard outside the nobility likely knew your name. Your father was the Duke, the one who sat on Odin’s security council and was likely up to his eyes in the blood of innocents. You couldn’t care less if people didn’t make the connection between you and him. In fact, you almost welcomed it.

“Perhaps I prefer it that way. Not all of us crave the attention of strangers because daddy doesn’t love us.” You took a final sip of your wine, turning your eyes from him and back to the crowd gathered in front of you.

You swore you heard him hiss quietly through his teeth, but otherwise, he remained silent. There was little more than a foot between you both - the soft scent of cedarwood and patchouli filled your senses with every inhale - and you despised how your heart skipped at realising just how little space separated you from him. All you really had to do was reach out your fingers…

But you didn’t. Because it was Loki. He was your lifelong annoyance.

And your greatest love.

A man in brown uniform drifted past and you set your glass firmly on the tray he held aloft, eagerly scanning the crowd for the first person who would ask for your hand, something that Loki’s keen eyes didn’t miss.

“Perhaps you would like to dance?” he asked. Behind the heavy sarcasm you almost swore you heard a genuine question.

You cocked one eyebrow at him. “With you?” you replied, and adopted the sweetest smile you could. “I’d rather be Odin’s groom of the stool.”

“We are feeling rather feisty tonight,” he replied instantly, a bite beginning to creep into his voice.

“I blame it on the company I’m being forced to keep,” you shot back. Across the way, you caught the eye of some minor noble - all blonde and big muscle and so completely not your type - but you smiled coyly at him in invitation. He quickly began to weave through the crowd and you turned to Loki with a smug little grin. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to spend some time with someone who doesn’t turn my stomach.”

You didn’t pause to see his reaction, but let the man sweep you into his embrace and only half listened as he introduced himself as Frode. Up close, you realised that he wasn’t as handsome as you had first believed. Even with the mask, you noticed the deep, jagged scar that ran down his right cheek and when he smiled, you saw that he was missing a tooth.

“A beautiful gown, my lady,” Frode commented, his voice rough and gravelly. You bristled when his eyes lingered a little too long on your cleavage.

His hand was large and clammy in yours and you fought the urge to grimace as he clutched you. He didn’t possess the refined elegance you knew Loki would have shown if he had been the one turning you around the floor. A glance over Frode’s large shoulder showed Loki still with his eyes locked on you both, so you gave the man your most winning smile.

“It suits the season! And compliments your own outfit perfectly!” you added, tracing a hand along his muscular upper arm while keeping Loki pinned in the corner of your eye.

He still hovered along the edge of the floor, eyes glued to you and Frode, but standing a little more rigidly than when you had left him. You may have been able to convince yourself that he actually cared, but when Frode twirled you around in his direction again, Loki was nowhere to be seen.

Desperately, you tried to ignore the pang of disappointment that echoed in your chest.

Frode continued moving you both haphazardly around the floor, colliding with a few other guests and talking about the Norns knew what. You laughed when you needed to but otherwise failed to listen to a single word he said. You were too focused on trying to locate Loki in a sea full of guests. A difficult task given how he could master the art of being invisible in a crowd until he wanted to be seen.

You were only half listening as Frode’s rough voice continued to drone on relentlessly. He could have been warning you about an imminent invasion from Midgard, or telling you of his perverted fantasies involving the Dark Elves, but you only gave him a simpering little laugh whenever there was a pause in the conversation. The man likely thought you were simple but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You wanted nothing more than for the song to end so you could escape. Hel, you’d dance with Odin himself if it meant you could be free from Frode’s clammy grip and the stench of ale that seemed to permeate from his every pore.

How had this seemed like a good idea?

“The younger prince is headed this way,” Frode suddenly growled, his blue eyes growing dark while he tightened his grip on your hand. You fought the urge to yank it from his grip. “If I were Odin I’d cast the little runt out. What use is he to the Court?”

The ghost of a smirk that appeared on his face indicated that he was waiting for you to agree or simply laugh at his remark, so it was entirely unexpected when the sole of your foot landed roughly on the tip of his boot. He abruptly relinquished his hold on you and his deep groan of pain caused a passing couple to look on in alarm.

“My apologies, my lord!” you cried out, biting back a smile at the deep grimace of pain he still wore. “I do get very clumsy after a few glasses of wine! Are you well?”

A quiet rumble of laughter from behind told you Loki was now at your back and you ignored how inwardly pleased you were that he had seen the whole spectacle.

“Perfectly!” Frode replied, sounding somewhat strained as he righted himself.

The music had come to a sweeping end and he looked to you in silent expectation that you would join him for another dance, but Loki quickly interjected before he had the opportunity to speak.

“You should rest, Bjørson. That looked like it hurt,” he said smoothly, and you saw Frode’s cheeks grow slightly pink.

“I’m fine, Your Highness,” he practically spat out the words.

Loki hummed and outwardly looked completely unfazed, but his cool fingers wrapped around the bend of your elbow and sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. “Perhaps, but the lady promised her next dance to me,” he said quietly, the words sounding vaguely like a threat.

“I did no such thing!” Instantly, you rounded on him, but for the life of you you didn’t know why. You’d sooner dance with anyone than return to Frode.

Loki looked at you the way one would look at a child that’s said something mildly amusing. “Poor thing.” He clucked his tongue. “You’ve had so much to drink already that you can’t remember. Unsurprising, really, when daddy isn’t here to keep watch over you,” he taunted.

Your cheeks were burning and you wanted nothing more than to rip his beautiful head from his shoulders, but you still let him lead you easily to the middle of the floor as the music began to play again. From the corner of your vision, you saw Frode stalk off towards the barrels of ale, begrudgingly accepting that he had been outranked.

Loki’s grip on your elbow was firm and unyielding as he lead you further into the crowd, but you found that you didn’t want to give up the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how furiously the anger was bubbling inside you. “At least my father trusts me to socialise alone!” you snapped at him when he suddenly stopped. “Tell me, my prince, who has been charged with babysitting you tonight?”

He didn’t bother to answer, only swung you into his arms so that you were pressed snug against his chest. “The brute looked like he wish to devour you. I should make you thank me for rescuing you,” he said, splaying his fingers possessively along your back and gripping your hand tightly in his.

You hated how you noticed every little detail about him. How he was holding you so tightly against him that you could feel the rigid planes of his stomach beneath his tunic and how it pressed into you with every breath he took. You noticed the shift of his shoulder blades beneath your fingers and how his eyes were the same shade of green as your favourite blanket draped across your bed. He was so solid and strong and fingers curled around yours so perfectly…

But you couldn’t think about that. He was your lifelong annoyance.

“You won’t make me do anything,” you said sweetly as he turned you effortlessly around the floor. For a brief second, you were caught up in how perfectly his emerald green evening wear complemented your golden gown as it swirled around his feet, caught up in how perfect the two of you must no doubt look to anyone who may look your way.

It was a shame, almost, that you were what you were.

Loki’s lips twitched at your comment and his eyes darkened over as they held yours. A pleasant tingle thrummed between your thighs. “That sounds like a challenge, darling,” he purred, pulling you even tighter against him. He rested his cheek against your temple until his lips were grazing your ear. “And I do love a challenge.”

Your hand twitched only a fraction in his, but you knew Loki would catch a movement even that tiny. You prayed he hadn’t caught the sharp intake of breath or could feel the frantic pounding of your heart with how tightly you were pressed against him. He couldn’t know how his words only fanned the ferocious flame that was flickering between your thighs, or how badly you wanted him to press you against the nearest hard surface and have his way with you.

You loathed him, yet you wanted nothing more than to feel his skin against yours.

“You’ll have to find someone else to challenge, my prince. I have no interest in second sons,” you replied, sounding steadier than you felt and desperately trying to ignore the feel of his firm thighs moving against yours.

How would they look kneeling between your spread legs? How would they feel beneath you as you straddled him?

Loki twirled you firmly around the floor, cocooning your legs in a twist of gold and making you briefly dizzy. “Is that so?” he purred. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I sought my pleasure in one of the lovely ladies or gentlemen here tonight.”

Something twisted sharply in your gut, something that felt alarmingly like jealousy, but you refused to acknowledge it. You knew he’d had many partners - likely as many as you - but you had never before been so consumed with envy at those who had been his lovers, who had seen him in the throes of passion and had felt his hands wander over their skin.

You refused to let it rise to the surface and kept your features as blissfully unaffected as possible. “Be my guest,” you replied simply, throwing a glance around the hall to signify just how much you didn’t care. “Lady Kari looks particularly beautiful tonight. Why don’t you carry her off to your dungeon?”

His lips twisted in a smirk and you knew he had caught the slight bite to your words. “Careful, darling. It’s beginning to sound like you would like me to carry you off,” he replied, his voice dripping with such smug self-assuredness that you wanted nothing more than to slap his perfect cheek.

Despite how much you absolutely didn’t want it, you allowed yourself the brief luxury of imagining what it would be like to be hoisted into his strong arms and flung upon his bed. How it would feel to have his lips claim every part of you, his hot breath fanning over your bare skin, the sound of his moans filling the quiet of the chamber…

But you didn’t want it.

“I’d rather Frode take me in one of the servant's passageways. I’d rather one of the servants themselves take me in the passageways. You’re at the bottom of a very long list, my prince,” you threw back haughtily.

Loki didn’t even blink. “As are you, darling,” he replied smoothly. The hand resting on your back pressed you closer, though there was barely a breath of space remaining between you both.

You caught the familiar, musky scent of him with each inhale and resisted the temptation to bury your face in his chest and breathe him in. You could feel the silky strands of his hair brushing across the back of your hand and wanted nothing more than to tangle your fingers in it. Briefly, you wondered if he enjoyed having it tugged…

Desire was written clearly on your face, you knew, and you were suddenly thanking Valhalla for the golden mask that partially shielded you from view. It gave you the chance to study him, but even behind the half covering of silk his face remained as passive as ever, though when the music once again began to come to an end, you didn’t fail to notice how his hand remained firmly against your back.

“Good,” you said primly. “Then we understand each other.”

The smile he gave you in return was nothing short of wolfish and emerald eyes narrowed behind black obsidian. “Oh, I believe we understand each other perfectly,” he murmured, holding your gaze as the music ended and he brought your hand to his lips.

It was an act of chivalry you would have expected of any gentleman you danced with tonight, but with Loki it felt strangely intimate, as though he were showing you a part of himself that he kept firmly locked away. His lips lingered just long enough for you to appreciate how warm and soft they were against your skin, long enough for you to imagine how they might feel elsewhere, and then, without another word, he left your side to melt easily into the crowd of guests. Like a shadow in the dead of night, he quickly disappeared, leaving you with a thundering heartbeat and an ever increasing tingling between your thighs.

How desperately you loathed him.

Before you had the chance to begin scanning the crowd in search of him you were quickly pulled into another dance. He was a great hulk of a man with muscles to rival Thor’s and, you would admit, he was attractive, even behind the royal blue mask that concealed half of his face.

“Hagen, my lady,” he introduced himself with a broad smile that revealed perfectly straight white teeth.

You smiled in acknowledgment, told him your name, and only half listened as he chattered on, your attention firmly on locating Loki. It was no easy feat given the sea of people who were twirling around the hall, and only made that much harder with the addition of decorative masks, but you finally did catch sight of him through an eventual parting of the crowd. He was also dancing again, only this time his partner was a vapid little thing who didn’t appear to have a single thought behind her eyes.

A fresh surge of searing jealousy, sudden and entirely unexpected, swept through you like a winter storm. You didn’t even know her name or where in Asgard she hailed from, didn’t recall seeing her on any previous occasions, yet here she was gazing at Loki with big doe eyes that made you want to slap her childish little face.

Hagen hadn’t noticed your sudden distraction and continued twirling you around the Great Hall until it felt like you were inside a kaleidoscope, but you never once lost sight of Loki, pinning him with your gaze like a predator in the final moments of the hunt. When he felt your molten gaze burning into him, he glanced over the ornately decorated head of the girl in his arms, and, to your absolute fury, he winked.

It was as quick as the space between heartbeats and he was turning away again as though it had never happened, but already your blood had been set aflame. With renewed vigour you turned your attention back to Hagen, smiling and simpering like a fool and laughing at every comment like it were the funniest thing you had heard in centuries. His eyes lit up and he immediately began retelling a story of some battle he had been involved in decades ago.

“...and at the end of it all, I pushed the poor soul into a barrel of mead head first! He screamed like a pig caught in the mud until he realised it had been long drained by his own hand!” he finished a few minutes later, eagerly scanning your face for approval.

The laugh you forced was so loud and so obviously fake that a few couples twirling by gazed intently your way. You didn’t care. With Hagen so distracted by winning your approval, he hadn’t noticed how you had managed to manipulate his movements across the floor, having glided effortlessly through the crowd until you were within touching distance of Loki and the preened little poodle in his arms. He noticed you instantly, but you steadfastly ignored the smirk that flicked across the face and gave Hagen the full force of your attention.

Surprisingly, it worked.

The longer you ignored Loki the more he tried to catch your attention. Every expert twirl perfectly in time with the music had his half concealed face turn towards you, green eyes sparkling as he hoped to see you looking back at him. It was entertaining, almost, to watch him desperately seek the attention you refused to give him.

Hagen remained the sole focus of your attention as you waited, waited for the perfect moment to do what you had guided him half way across the Great Hall to do. Loki twirled around again until the girl in his arms faced you - though not without throwing another glance towards you to see if he finally had your attention - and when you got close enough, you subtly kicked a foot out from under your gown to catch her ankle, sending her stumbling forward until Loki caught her fall. She gave you a look of pure, unadulterated outrage, but you only smiled sweetly at her.

“Oh, I am sorry! I’ve lost my footing a little after that third glass of wine!” you called over your shoulder as Hagen continued to whisk you through the crowd, not missing the tiny grin growing on Loki’s lips.

With satisfaction casting a warm glow through your chest you let Hagen continue to twirl you around the floor until the music again began to slow. Over his broad shoulder, you caught sight of Loki, still with that dull little thing in his arms, and you grinned. Letting one hand slide suggestively down Hagen’s upper arm, you held Loki’s gaze while you whispered in his ear. All you had said was “I’d like to go outside,” but, coupled with a light laugh and Hagen’s hand dropping an inch lower on your back, it was enough to make Loki’s expression darken.

You saw the instant deep frown and set of his strong jaw, saw his brief apology to the girl he had been dancing with, and he was quickly striding across the hall with purpose. Something deep in your stomach twisted with excitement.

He was before you both in a matter of seconds, towering over Hagen and staring at the man with cold eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to impose, but I must steal the lady from you,” Loki said, his voice perfectly calm and collected.

Hagen’s fingers tightened around your waist and you fought the overwhelming urge to grin. You could feel him bristle, could feel the clouds of an almighty argument begin to darken the spiced air of the Great Hall as he stared Loki down. Even with half his face obscured behind a mask of black obsidian, you could read his intense displeasure in the set of his jaw and in the dangerous glint in his green eyes.

You turned to give your thanks to Hagen for his dance - a dance you had surprisingly enjoyed - but before the first syllable had even crossed your lips, Loki had twirled you out of his grip so swiftly that your skirts twisted around your ankles in a quiet whisper and you clamped a hand on his velvet clad arm in order to stay steady.

Or that’s what you told yourself.

Once righted, and with your hands tucked securely within the folds of your gown, you became very aware of the firm solidness of his chest against your shoulder, almost shivering at the feel of the soft material of his evening wear brushing enticingly against your exposed skin. It was a teasing reminder that all that separated you from him was tulle and velvet.

Your fingers twitched at your sides.

On your left, Hagen was making his irritation known, but his voice was nothing but a dull drone in the near distance, comparable to the incessant buzzing of a fly on a warm summer evening. Your focus had long since drifted from him, shifting solely to the feel of Loki’s curls ghosting gently against the base of your neck.

The familiar intoxicating scent of him - cedarwood and patchouli and something vaguely sweet - washed over you once more, so inviting that you wished you could drown in it.

His warm breath fanned against the skin below your ear, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. “With me, darling. Now.” The words were uttered so quietly, so dangerously in your ear that your heart sped up like a wild hare darting through a spring meadow. Resisting him would be pointless.

“Of course, my prince,” you replied sweetly, a thin layer of coyness wrapping around each word.

Without another word, he placed a firm, heavy hand on the curve of your waist, expertly weaving you both through the sea of colourfully clad guests. His imposing stature, coupled with the displeased scowl that not even his mask could hide, cleared an easy path through the hall until the vast mahogany doors leading to the balcony grew before you.

Perhaps it was the third glass of mead you’d knocked back not too long ago, or perhaps you were merely feeling playful at finally being cornered, but in the final few feet before the heavy wooden doors were right in front of you, you made a weak attempt to twist out of Loki’s firm grip. You were met with a firm curl of his fingers into the soft silk of your gown to keep you tight against his side, a silent promise that you weren’t going anywhere unless he allowed it.

His boots continued to hit the floor with rhythmic thuds, each step bringing you closer to the balcony doors and sending a shot of pure adrenaline shooting through your blood. You worked to keep up with him, taking two steps for each one of his, and when the double doors were right in front of you, you feared the purpose underlying Loki’s every step would have you both collide with them. At the very last minute a shimmer of vibrant emerald green, emanating from both everywhere and nowhere, pushed the magnificent double doors open, allowing Loki to guide you both through them without so much as a pause in his stride. His hand remained firmly on your back as he lead you onto the wide, open space of the sandstone balcony and when you shivered, it had nothing to do with the coolness of the night air.

The quiet thud of the doors sounded behind you and the sudden shift in the energy betrayed how Loki was using his magic again, though for what you had no idea. Slow, lazy steps carried you away from him, the quiet click of your heels against the smooth stone floor being the only sound filling the quiet as you reached the intricately carved stone of the balcony. Guests trickled around the gardens below, enjoying the seasonal display of flowers that Frigga had so lovingly cultivated and admiring the small orbs of light that floated just out of their reach, each one appearing like a snow flake that had been frozen mid fall. You would never not be captivated by the effort that the Allmother placed in making the palace look magical no matter what the occasion.

In your brief distraction admiring the grounds Loki still hadn’t spoken, and when you turned quickly to look at him, he was still standing silently by the double doors. His black mask was still on, but it didn’t obscure the glint of raw hunger shining in his eyes as they rested on you. You felt your heart speed up and swallowed thickly, practically vibrating with the anticipation of what you knew was about to come. Loki remained watching you, appearing to search for some small sign or signal.

Your silent, knowing grin was all it took.

Four large strides, silent as the night, brought him swiftly towards you. The black mask was ripped easily from his face before his strong arms were around you to pull you tight against his chest, his lips crashing down onto yours with such fierceness that it knocked the breath from your lungs. You returned it easily, parting your lips to meet his tongue with your own and tangling your hand blissfully into his black curls.

They were softer than you even imagined.

The kiss was deep and frantic, as though the whole world around you both was going up in flames and the last thing you both would ever do was taste each other. Without breaking away, Loki walked you backwards until you collided with the smooth stone, both arms tightening around you until you were all but crushed between the smooth surface of the balcony and his warm chest.

You were lost in him, lost to him. The feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him; it was everything you had imagined it would be and more.

The fingers of his right hand drifted from where they had been clasping the base of your neck to untie the silken ties of your mask, letting it fall away like smoke in the wind. He pressed you tighter against him and you moaned quietly against his lips. You felt him smile against your mouth, an innocent gesture that was quickly followed by a roll of his hips against yours, letting you feel just how badly he wanted you.

His lips left yours and you fought to contain a whine at the sudden absence of him. “Touch me,” he murmured between shallow pants, resting his forehead against yours.

“I am touching you,” you replied, bringing a hand to rest against his cheek, You knew what he was asking, of course, but you kept your hand firmly on his cheek.

Loki lifted his forehead from yours and you could see the fire blazing in his green eyes, a burning, searing flame of desire for you. He pulled your hand from his cheek and guided it down to rest on the prominent bulge in his leather trousers.

“Touch me,” he repeated softly.

You twisted your free hand into his hair, using it as leverage to guide him back to your lips. With the other, you teasingly stroked the outline of his cock, palming him firmly while his lips continued claiming yours. He groaned deeply into your mouth, sending a flutter between your thighs, and pulled back from your kiss once again.

“Your hand feels so much better than my own, darling,” he half moaned into the darkness.

“Oh?” You smirked and pulled your hand back. “Then maybe I should make you beg for it.”

Something in his eyes darkened and he curled two fingers under your chin to hold your gaze. “Darling, I can assure you that I won’t be the one begging tonight.”

The confidence of his words, the suggestion dripping like honey from every syllable, sent a rush of heat surging through you. Your gaze dropped to his lips, kiss swollen and stained a faint crimson red from your lipstick. It was barely noticeable under the pale moonlight, but it still made something in your stir, as though that delicate sheen of red was your mark on him.

A warning to everyone else that he was yours.

Your fingers still resting at the base of his neck curled into his soft skin, sharp nails scratching him gently and sending a slight shiver down his spine. “Kiss me again,” you said, not caring about the faint rasp that now edged your words.

Loki laughed quiet and low, the sound a soft rumble in the quiet of the night. “An excellent start,” he purred, not giving you a second to even glare at him before his lips were back on yours, kissing you just as frantically as before. It was as though that first kiss had shown him what he had been missing and now he wouldn’t be sated until he tasted every inch of you.

You welcomed the warm force of his mouth against yours once more, locking your arms around his neck while your hands scrambled for purchase on the rich velvet of his tunic. You couldn’t get close enough. The force of his renewed assault made your back hit the smooth curved stone of the balcony so hard that for a second you were briefly bent over it. While your hands were tangling in his hair - and you were delighting in the quiet growl of appreciation that came from your experimental tug - his were frantically bunching the golden skirts of your gown around your hips, all the while still kissing you like you were his only source of oxygen.

The cool night air wrapped instantly around your bare legs but did nothing to ease the searing burn of arousal pulsing in your core. Loki’s fingers trailed over your thighs and you whined into his mouth, the barest hint of his touch lighting tiny fires beneath your skin and making you crave him like rain in a drought. One strong hand rested against your stomach to secure layers of golden tulle out of his way while the other dipped between your thighs to run a finger firmly over your cunt through the thin layer of your underwear. You rocked your hips against it, already desperately seeking more, and he gently nipped your bottom lip.

“Something wrong, pet?” he asked, pulling back from your kiss but still running his finger tormentingly along the length of your cunt.

It was such a simple action, but you felt the sharp tendrils of pleasure right down to your knees. It wasn’t enough. “Need more,” you said, still attempting to grind down against his finger.

“Oh?” Loki replied, cocking one perfect eyebrow at you. You felt him slide his finger to the side of your underwear, using it to pull them aside and run it lightly through your slick folds. “Is this enough?”

It felt good, it felt almost blindingly good, but it wasn’t enough. You needed his cock, needed him to fill you to the brim and fuck you so hard that you felt it for days. You needed to feel him spill inside you and claim you completely as his.

Because you were.

You had always been his.

“No,” you breathed out, fingers digging firmly into the back of his neck in an effort to ground yourself. The other rested low on his hip, slowly snaking around to cup his ass through the soft black material.

You heard his quick intake of breath and saw the exact moment his eye darkened with fresh, undiluted lust. “Good.” It was almost a growl. “Because I’m losing what little self control I have left.”

His hand retracted from between your thighs and an immediate complaint was dancing on the tip of your tongue, until both rested back on your hips, stealing the breath from your lungs with the sudden surprise of being swiftly turned and bent over the balcony edge. Yards of tulle fell in a sweeping whisper to cover your legs, only to be just as quickly bunched back up in his hands. This time he folded them back carelessly onto your back, leaving you almost fully on display for him.

His cool fingers rested around the curve of your hips, the silken pads of his thumbs tracing tiny circles along your exposed skin. “Beautiful, darling,” he murmured behind you, no hint or trace of mockery in his voice.

Your witty reply melted into a sigh of contentment when his hands moved to ghost over the swell of your ass and you felt him kneel between your legs. Teasingly, his hands ran down the backs of your thighs, long fingers dancing so close to where you ached for him, had ached for him for centuries.

“Loki…” His name was barely a whisper into the blackness of the night and was chased swiftly by a quiet moan when you felt his teeth hook into the band of your underwear.

You could almost hear the smirk on his face as he expertly pulled them down your legs, the gentle rub of his nose against your skin having your fingers curl against the sandstone. They were quickly pooling around your ankles and Loki was just as easily ripping them away and tossing them aside.

You yelped when his teeth then sank into the flesh of your ass.

“So responsive, darling,” he purred while getting to his feet, the cool tips of his fingers running soothingly over the area he had just bitten. “I wonder what other little noises I can get you to make for me.”

“Why don’t you fuck me and we’ll find out.” You had meant it as an attempt to goad him, to infer that he could have what he wanted if he would just fuck you, but the sharpness of your tone and the obvious pleading behind it betrayed nothing but your own impatience to have him inside you.

Something that, of course, Loki didn’t miss. “I told you I wouldn’t be the one begging tonight, didn’t I?” he taunted, a firm hand creeping beneath the layers of tulle to lie against the naked skin of your back. “Say please.”

The swell of pleasure between your thighs at his quiet command was instant, but you fought to ignore it and remained stubbornly quiet if only to see what your refusal to answer would make him do. Below you, guests continue to mill around in the gardens, their quiet laughter and conversation drifting upwards on a phantom breeze. They were only a matter of metres below and if any decided to turn their gaze upwards towards the palace, little would stop them from seeing you bent over the balcony with Loki between your legs. The thought alone had you swallowing a moan.

Loki clicked his tongue quietly, his fingers dipping back between your thighs to teasingly stroke your cunt. This time, you couldn’t prevent the curse that slipped from your lips at how good his fingers felt. “Say please,” he repeated.

Stubbornly, you continued to try and hold your silence, but the steady ripples of pleasure he was granting you had you desperate for more within a short matter of seconds. “Please! Please, Loki!” you eventually cracked, the wet need between your thighs surpassing any desire to press his buttons.

He slapped your ass just hard enough for you to feel a sting. “Good girl,” he said, and you heard the quiet shuffle as he freed himself from his trousers. “Do you know how often I touch myself to the idea of you begging for me?” he continued, lazily dragging the tip of his cock through your dripping cunt, coating himself with your arousal.

The sound that tumbled from your lips was so lewd that you felt your cheeks flame, and you dropped your head low between your shoulders at the exquisite torture that he was subjecting you to. Over and over he dragged his cock through your folds, each time stopping just short of hitting your clit, so teasingly short that eventually, you began to squirm.

“Loki…please…,” you repeated, now freely giving him what he wanted in a voice practically hoarse with desire.

The languid roll of his hips came to a sudden stop, but his cock remained firmly against your cunt. “You sound so lovely when you beg, darling, I’m tempted to not give you what you want,” he taunted. “But I’ve waited too long to have you.”

“Then, for the love of Yggdrasil, take me!” you all but screamed at him, the unrelenting ache between your legs crying out for release.

At your plea, he curled one hand around the curve of your hip and with the other aligned himself with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by beautiful inch until he had filled you to the brim. He stretched you beautifully and you briefly lost the ability to speak while you adjusted to his size. It was nothing short of exquisite.

When he got comfortable and began to roll his hips steadily into you, both hands now gripping your hips like a vice, you saw the remnant wisps of emerald green in the night air. Likely, Loki had cast come illusion to conceal you both from the guests still wandering below.

Something you had no doubt you would be thankful for in a short matter of minutes.

Already, his cock was brushing wondrously against that sweet spot inside you, having your toes curl in your shoes. His hands held your hips in a punishing grip that you knew would leave bruises the following morning, and a stream of moans - the most glorious sound you had ever heard - tumbled freely from his lips with each thrust. Loud, forceful moans that you were sure could be heard from the gardens down below, but no one so much as glanced towards the balcony where you both stood.

Then it hit you. The soft whirls of green magic had been a silencing charm.

For the first time in your long life, you were saying a silent thanks to Loki.

“Fuck, Loki!” you cried out, feeling as though a weight had been lifted to allow you to vocalise your pleasure. “You feel so good!”

You were close to losing yourself in the pleasure, to let it wash over you while you screamed to Valhalla, but two quiet voices from below drifted up softly to your ears and made you go rigid.

“Did you hear that?” A deep male voice asked. “Someone with Prince Loki, perhaps?”

“I saw the Prince inside a few moments ago. It’s likely someone else,” another answered, sounding incredibly bored.

Loki’s arm looped around your middle, pulling you upright and tight against his chest. “You’ll have to be quiet, darling, unless you want the attention of all those guests on this balcony. What would they think if they could hear you, hmm? Perhaps that you’re here pleasuring yourself to the thought of me?” he whispered lowly in your ear.

A groan bubbled low in your throat, one that you fought valiantly to contain. “But…you’ve…you’ve been moaning like a whore and no one has spared a second glance!” you said.

His teeth sunk into your earlobe, pulling gently and making you go near limp in his arms. “Oh, dear. Did I forget to place that silencing charm over you? I do apologise, darling,” he purred, sounding anything but sorry. “I hope you can stay quiet.” He punctuated his sentence with a firm, forceful thrust that made you bite your lip to contain a cry.

It melted into a whimper with each continued plunge of his cock into your cunt. You could feel every inch of him as he moved, each drag only sending ripples of building pleasure washing over you. While he kept one strong arm locked securely around your waist to anchor you to him, the other was effortlessly gathering up layers of gold to dip his hand beneath and find your clit.

It was almost your undoing.

He could play your body like a violin and the unbroken rhythm his fingers played on your clit had you clamping down hard on his arm to contain shameless moans. Your head dropped back against his shoulder and your free hand desperately curled around his thigh in an effort to do something, anything, to channel the burning waves of pleasure crashing through you under his touch. He continued thrusting roughly into you, continued moaning and cursing freely right by your ear, all the while your nails were digging so hard into the top of his thigh you feared you might draw blood, all in the effort of having to stay quiet.

You wanted to scream his name to Valhalla, wanted to curse and scream in the face of the pleasure he was bringing you, yet all you could do was grip him like he was a liferaft and grind shamelessly against his fingers.

It was blissful torture.

Blissful torture that he had seemed in no rush to end.

A thin sheen of sweat was forming along your hairline from both the effort of staying quiet and the brazen way in which you were rolling your hips against his hand. You wanted the release more than anything you had ever wished for before, wanted Loki to be the reason you came completely undone, and with the way he was playing your body as though it had been made for him, it wouldn’t take long until you saw stars.

His breathing was coming hard and fast in your ear, his warm breath hitting you in time with every thrust. “I thought you wanted this, darling?” he taunted you. “I can’t hear any sounds of pleasure coming from you. Perhaps you’d prefer it if I stopped?” he asked, dropping his hand from your cunt and slowing down his frantic thrusts until he was doing nothing but languidly rolling his hips into you.

Your hips arched into the balcony in a fruitless attempt at chasing his hand and you turned your head against his jaw, almost panic stricken at the threat. “No, please!” you begged him. “Please don’t stop!”

The satisfied smirk crossed his face instantly. “Then you need to let me know how good I’m making you feel,” he said and turned his head so his lips were just brushing the crown of your head. “Because I’m not letting you come until I can hear you.”

“Loki…,” you whined pitifully.

He ignored you, instead returning his fingers to play with your swollen clit and beginning to forcefully thrust his cock back into you. “You better start singing for me, darling.”

You cursed his name to Hel, but you were teetering so close to that wonderful freefall into pleasure that you sang easily for him, letting his name tangle with sharp breathy moans as he pushed you steadily towards release.

You were so blissfully close when his hand unfurled from your waist to sharply slap your ass again. “Louder,” he growled, his hips now colliding repeatedly with yours as the wet sound of sex filled the quiet of the night.

Clammy hands fell to brace against the smooth stone of the balcony while his cock hit that sweet spot over and over, and his long fingers only pushed you right to the teetering edge. You moaned for him, you whined and whimpered for him, squeezing your eyes shut so as not to see the looks of shock and open disgust on the faces of those below as he sent you soaring over the edge, his name ripped from your throat in a scream as you saw stars.

His thrusts were erratic, his grip on you bruising as he chased his high. Your name was the only sound he could make as he spilled inside you, claiming you completely as his. His arm returned to loop around your waist and pull you back against him, all while he continued plunging into you, not allowing a single drop of his seed to go to waste.

“Mine,” he growled in your ear, giving a final few shuddering thrusts of his cock before going still.

You were boneless in his arms, panting loudly and falling forward to desperately grip the balcony in the wake of your release. You didn’t dare open your eyes, couldn’t make yourself open them and see the gaze of so many people who had watched you tumble into pleasure in the open like a common harlot. Your stomach began to turn at the thought.

“Open your eyes, darling,” Loki encouraged gently, still inside you and still claspiing you tightly to him.

After a brief hesitation, you slowly cracked them open, only to see the guests down below still in conversation amongst themselves, not a single face turned in the direction of the balcony. Instantly, you calmed.

“Do you really believe I’d do that to you,” Loki murmured, nuzzling his face into your neck. “They didn’t hear or see a thing. I promise you.”

You released a breath and laughed at your own stupidity. Of course he wouldn’t. “You…are an asshole,” you said, still panting.

He hummed against your neck. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “And perhaps later you’ll punish me for it,” he said, licking a light stripe up your neck.

You closed your eyes again, allowing yourself to bask in his affections and at the surety that there was so much more yet to come. “Perhaps I will.”

Tags: @sailorholly @joyful-enchantress @muddyorbs @ozymdias @fandxmslxt69 @trickster-maiden @lokixryss @silverfire475 @wolfsmom1 @lokisgoodgirl @cake-writes @vickie5446 @lokidbadguy @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @all-envy-suyu @erynion-rogueofthegreenwoods @gortycs @katehawke @123forgottherest @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @peanutbutter-y-jams @wintermischief @gigglingtigger

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki imagine

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poeticnorth · 6 months

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Back to writing non-poem stuff for now

#heathenry #north sea poet #nico solheim-davidson #hel #helheim #norse myth #norse mythology

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ladystarksneedle · 4 months

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The night is dark yet full of warmth

A/N: For @hotd-bigbang

Prompt: December 11th - Blizzard | Blankets | Berries

Helaena's pov

Summary: The children cuddle up on a windy night to a warm tale of the North.

Word count: 500

Dividers by @saradika

“Muña tell us the story of the snowy castle up north”

Their twins pulled at her skirts before she gathered them up in her arms walking towards the bed as she saw Aegon cradling Maelor. The maids helped in tucking them all in before leaving to light some of the snuffed out candles nearby. They cuddled together before he joined them at the foot of their bed with their son cooing in his arms. It was a cold night with the shutters pulled tight and the glow of the hearth bathing their chambers in its warmth. She'd recited the tale of the Good Queen countless times yet as they gazed up at her with their inquisitive eyes, pleading silently, she could hardly resist the words that spilled from her lips. Her husband chuckled as he listened enraptured. He'd told her he loved her voice one night, when it was too cold to venture out. They'd been wrapped in their blankets, huddled together as he gazed at her. “Perhaps we should do this more often” he'd said

“Lie together? Mother would certainly agree”

He had chuckled then before pulling her closer. “You have a nice voice Hel. I like hearing you talk”

She wove tales of an icy blizzard surrounding the mighty Silverwing as she descended upon Winterfell aweing commoner and lord alike and how the witty queen had thawed the stoic lord of the manor with her charm.

“What about the berries?” Jaehaera chirped excitedly. She laughed in response as her little girl pouted impatiently.

“Yes, how can you forget the berries, Helaena. That is quite inconsiderate of you is it not byka jorrāelagon” Aegon responded earning him a rapid nod from her little head. (Little love)

She shook her head before pulling them both closer as she continued.

“The Good Queen had managed to charm Lord Stark with her wit and beauty, however it was a handful of berries that endeared him to her at last. Red as the roses of the King’s gardens, those little treats were secretly favored by the grumpy lord who was still wary of dragons. Imagine his astonishment when he found a mighty beast like Silverwing enjoyed them just as well. Upon learning of his fondness the queen had offered them to her in front of him, juggling them in her palms before feeding them to her with each catch as he watched in awe. A mummer’s trick that had excited all alike finally proved to be a valuable collection in her arsenal”

The twins clapped as she finished her tale grinning with delight.

“Remember my loves, to always be kind and to listen carefully above all. You never know when a trick up your sleeve can come in handy” she finished before winking at Aegon who looked away in embarrassment.

The wind around them howled outside agreeably, rattling the window panes as they relished in the warmth of the little anecdote of ice and fire.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @barbieaemond @chompchompluke @watercolorskyy @paprikaquinn

#house of the dragon #hotd winter prompts 23 #helaena fics #helaena imagine #helaegon #helaena x aegon ii #zae's fics #hotd fic #aegon ii x helaena #hotd imagine

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yoga-onion · 5 months

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Legends and myths about trees

Celtic beliefs in trees (25)

R for Ruis (Elder) - November 25th - December 21st

“Season of fog and darkness – The Celtic Tree Calendar (Ref), Thirteenth Month”

colour: black, dark green; Star: Venus; Gem: olivine; Gender: female; Element: water; Patron: Hel, Hera, Huldra(Red2), Valkyrie; Symbols: judgement + transformation, death + rebirth, fate + inevitable event

Elder trees can grow almost anywhere and are a visible reminder of the changing seasons. The young leaves herald the return of spring, the white, bubbly, sweet-smelling flowers usher in the start of summer, the ripe berries mark the end of summer, the leaves turn red and eventually fall off, and the cold winter brings a rush of illness and discomfort, the time when the medicinal properties of the elder tree come into their own.

The ancient Britons and other Celts used to boil the elder berries in wine to make a black dye for grey hair. It is still used in the Hebrides as a dye to dye sheep black. The bark also makes a black dye. When alum is added, the leaves produce a green dye, while the berries produce blue, purple and violet dyes.

Almost all parts of the plant have medicinal properties, but today it is mainly the fruit and flowers that are used, such as elderflower wine and cordials (Ref3) flavoured with elderflower flowers, as well as jam and wine made from elderflower berries. Because, elderberry root from North America is toxic and the leaves and bark of elderberry are very dangerous to use in lay therapy.

The Elder Mother (Ref4) was believed to reside within the Elder Tree. She was said to inflict vengeance magic on anyone who harmed the tree and punished anyone who used any part of the tree for selfish purposes.

Across northern Europe, Elderberry is associated with death, rebirth and witchcraft, and is the tree most often used to break evil curses. The ancient Celts believed that how people saw and remembered them for the way they lived in this world would determine their reputation after death in the underworld. That is why the most important thing for them was to die with pride and dignity, and to respect others after death.

On a dark winter's day, the Elder tree holds up a mirror to us that reflects our true selves. Can you die with dignity and without regrets, it asks.

木にまつわる伝説・神話

ケルト人の樹木の信仰 (25)

RはRuis (ﾆﾜﾄｺ) - 11月25日～12月21日

『霧と暗黒の季節〜ケルトの木の暦（参照）、13番目の月』

色: 黒、深緑; 星: 金星; 宝石: カンラン石(ｵﾘﾋﾞﾝ); 性: 女性; 要素; 水; 守護神: ヘル、ヘラ、ホルダ（参照2）、ヒルデ; シンボル: 審判＋変身、死＋再生、運命＋不可避なできごと

ニワトコの木はほとんどどこにでも生え、季節の移り変わりを目に見える形で知らせてくれる。若葉は春の訪れを告げ、白い泡のような甘い香りの花は夏の始まりを告げ、熟した実は夏の終わりを告げ、葉は赤く色づいてやがて落葉し、寒い冬とともに病気や不快感がどっと押し寄せると、いよいよニワトコの薬の成分が本領を発揮する季節になる。

古代ブリトン人はじめケルト人はニワトコの実をワインで煮出して白髪染めの黒い染料を作っていた。今でもへブリディーズ諸島で羊を黒く染める染料として使われている。樹皮もまた黒の染料となる。明礬を加えると、葉からは緑の染料が、実からは青、紫、スミレ色の染料ができる。

ニワトコは殆ど全ての部位に薬効を持っているが、今日では、ニワトコの花で香りづけをした、エルダーフラワーワインやコーディアル（参照3）、またニワトコの実のジャムやワインなど、主に果実と花がよく使われている。北米産のニワトコの根には毒性があったり、ニワトコの葉や樹皮は素人療法に用いるのはとても危険だからである。

「ニワトコの母（参照4）」はニワトコの木の中に住んでいると信じられていた。彼女は、この木を傷つけた者には必ず復讐の魔法を下すといわれ、この木のどんな部分であれ利己的な目的に使ったものには罰を与えた。

北ヨーロッパの全域でニワトコは、死、再生、魔術と関連づけられ、邪悪な呪いを解くのに最もよく用いられる木だ。古代ケルト人は、この世での生き方が人々にどう見られ、どう記憶されるかが、死後冥界に行ってからの自分の評価を左右するのだと考えていた。だからこそ彼らにとって最も重要なのは、誇り高く威厳をもって死ぬことであり、死んでからも人を尊重することだった。

冬の暗い日に、ニワトコは私たちに本当の自分の姿が映る鏡を突きつける。あなたは、威厳を持って悔いのない死を迎えることができるのか、と。

#trees #celtic tree calendar #ancient celts #tree myth #tree legend #folklore #elder #elder mother #elder flower cordial #winter #mythology #legend #nature #art

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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Hello! I saw your work when you wrote about three men from the house of the dragon (Jace, Aegon and Aemond) at once and I fucking loved it! I don't know if you can write something like this again? Maybe, somewhere during some kind of ball, some lord sticks to the reader in the corridor (very cruelly sticks, perhaps so that pieces of her paty remain (remember Sansa from the first season)) some lord, and she tries to fight back, but too much shocked and these men come to the rescue, God I hope you understand me thanks for your creativity!

My prince in shining silks?

Rating: Teen

Tags: Aegon II x Reader, Aemond x Reader, Jace x Reader, AFAB!Costayne reader, chivalry, sweetness really, fluffy, Aemond is emotionally constipated, Jace is a baby, Aegon and Sunfyre are BFFS, I get a little character studyish, TW: attempted rape, nondescript castration, Aegon’s past misdeeds

A/N: OF COURSE I LOVE STUFF LIKE THIS ENJOY XOXOXXO

Some say that the North remembers. But you’d like to say that the Hightower’s never, ever forgot a slight. They were too proud, too old of a family. Elevated to the highest position as they became the puppeteer for the Dragon. It was a grand tourney and feast in the Reach for young Prince Daeron’s 13th name day, a man grown now.

You were of House Costayne. Bannermen of the Hightowers, but had not so hidden preferences for Rhaenyra as rightful ruler for the future of the kingdom. Also the fact that your ancestor Elinor Costayne was a black bride of Maegor. Who was supposed to stay true to his Hightower bride. Therefore there wasn’t the best of blood between your families.

But your family was here. Quite spread thin if you could say. All filtered far away from the center of the jamboree. One of the dragons roared from far off. It sounded like Prince Daeron’s she-dragon Tessarion. Daeron was a kind soul and handsome. Too young for you by some years. You’d overheard Lord Hobart reprimand the lad after chatting to you, “You know what color her family’s flag flies.”

That was that. He didn’t speak to you much anymore, but would smile. You were a lady in waiting for Samantha Tarly, soon to be Hightower. It made things much worse for you and your position at the feast. Down with lesser nobility and the knights. Suddenly you felt very alone and afraid, picking at your meat nauseously.

A breath reeking of wine entered your ear, “Why’ve they got pretty little Costayne down here? You bed the princeling, incur the wrath of Lord Otto?” You turned to face the man, shock etched into your features, stuttering, “N-no my lord it must’ve b-been a mistake!” It was the huge second son of Lord Bulwer, Uther. He looked bullish like the sigil they bore.

He crowded into your space, grinning, huge hand gripping your shoulder. Bulwer grunted, “No one’s going to see when their pretty lady is gone, not down here. Maybe Prince Daeron will come to the rescue.” You remained quiet, eyes searching for a familiar face but found none. Tears leaked from your eyes as Uther led you farther away from the din of safety.

Aegon

Aegon hated these events. He lounged back and sloppily poured more mead down his throat. Alicent slapped his arm as to say, have some decorum you halfwit! The prince scoffed and got up, he needed to take a piss anyways. He sauntered through the woods, relieved himself, and decided to stagger over to his baby Sunfyre.

The golden beast huffed at Aegon, nuzzling his palm. The blonde softly chatted in Valyrian. He loved Sunfyre, so much, probably the only friend that unconditionally loved him. Both of their heads turned at the sound of a woman’s plea for help, cut off by the sound of a smack. Sunfyre growled lowly, turning to look at his owner as if to say, “Are we going to do something about that? What if it’s Hel?”

Aegon really couldn’t be bothered but he heard another shriek and Sunfyre had already dipped for Aegon to mount his beast. The elder prince eyed the dark forest, his golden dragon snorting and twitching it’s head to-and-fro. Aegon demanded, “Keligon,” he pat golden scales, “Ilagon.” Sunfyre let him hop off and come forward to the scene.

Some Reach lord, thick as a aurochs and hairy like one too had a girl shoved into the dirt, down in a rut, hands tearing at her garb. Aegon could see the tears in her eyes under the moonlight. Guilt constricted his chest. Is this what he thought was fun? The Targaryen needed to set himself right, help the girl.

“In the name of the Seven Kingdoms, your Prince commands you to cease at once!,” Aegon called down from his higher position. His dragon hung back, snorting and waiting. She cried, “Please! Prince Aegon! My virtue! I need Lady Tarly!” The lord snarled, “Your family stuck her at the end of the table for a reason, just having a little fun, get back to your silken chair.”

Just having a bit’ of fun.

Aegon was furious now, self-hatred fueling his desire to make this man burn. He barked, “I’ll ask one more time, get off the Lady and go back to your shitty house and their shitty wooden chairs.”

The aurochs scoffed and ripped the girls bodice with a grin. He really was stupid, drunk, or possibly both. She tried to cover her exposed teats, sobbing for Lady Tarly, her father, she was of Costayne. Costayne was a reputable house. This would be bad to ignore a bannermen’s virgin girl. Even if they were a bit astray. Maybe this could get them back.

Aegon looked over his shoulder to meet gleaming reptilian eyes. He pointed at the man and hissed, “Sunfyre, Dohaeris!” He mounted the dragon again, who let our a fierce screech. The ugly lordling hopped back and cried out in shock. The lady of Costayne covered herself and scurried backwards, getting even more dirty. The Prince directed his purple eyes to the man, “If I hear of you assaulting ladies of nobility again, all I have to do is say one word and you’ll be a nice roast.”

He dismounted again, thanking his dearest friend. The girl sat crumpled, heaving sobs, eyes swollen. Aegon offered her his cloak with a frown, asking, “Who was that?” Her wide eyes met his, beautiful in their sadness. Aegon liked sad things more than all of the revelry. She mumbled, “Uther Bulwer. I was supposed to be seated with Lady Tarly or my family. Thank you my Prince. I cannot repay you enough.”

Aegon hummed, “That’s horrid, I apologize on behalf of the dumb fuck who did that. C’mon, show me to your tent and I’ll get Tarly.” He gathered her up in his arms, her legs shaking too bad to take a step. Aegon looked at her crumpled face and asked gently, “Would you mind getting on my mount, he’s a good boy. Listens well.”

Her eyes grew wide at Sunfyre, but the dragon dipped its head and let out a soft purr as to show it’s good behavior. Aegon couldn’t help but smile at his mount. She stammered, “O-okay.”

She remained silent as Sunfyre ungainly took them to the Costayne and Tarly tents. He helped her down and carried the girl inside, who had calmed significantly. She even pat Sunfyre and whimpered, “T-thank you.” She received a pleased chuff in response.

When they entered the Costayne tent Aegon was assaulted by members of the family and a frantic Samantha Tarly. She cried and gathered the girl up, demanding, “Where was she? Where was my girl?” Lord Costayne came to Aegon and looked down, offering a hand to shake. Aegon explained, “I was uh- relieving myself and heard her. Uther Bulwark was attempting to take her virtue. His violets flicked over to the young lady being coddled by others, looking heavenly in his emerald cloak.

Costayne frowned deeply and hummed, “Raper. He should be sent to the wall. I would also request why the girl was seated at the end.”

Aegon dutifully nodded and replied, “I will return to my family and resolve the matter. May I speak to the girl?”

Narrowed eyes. Aegon still had a shite reputation.

“You may.”

Lady Sam looked up and allowed for Aegon to kneel at her side. He thumbed the ermine cloak and said, “Green is a nice color on you. Please be safe and mayhaps write a raven or send a message through Daeron. Good night to you.” She tearily smiled, “Thank you my prince, you are too kind.” The Costayne kissed his cheek with soft lips and that was it. He felt her eyes follow his retreating form.

Aegon decided he would marry the girl on his aggressive stomp back to the family tent. After he got Bulwer sent to freeze his cock off and chide his mother for being callous over the poor, beautiful, sad thing’s last name.

Jacaerys

Ser Harwin used to joke that Jace had his head constantly on a swivel. Which was a good trait, his father said. Jace knew the truth, who didn’t. Regardless, he was eyeing the feast. His Velaryon cousins were squabbling, the Targaryens looked pessimistic per usual. He took his time glaring down Daemon, who paid him no mind, whispering to mother. Daeron and Luke chatted amicably.

Baratheon, Lannister, Arryn, no Stark, Tyrell, even Martell had made their appearances. The rest of the Hightowers and their bannermen were at a table. Jace studied all the sigils of the Houses of the Kingdoms. He saw their green. Then the other colors of Tarly, Costayne, and Ball. Lord Costayne apparently had a very comely daughter, Lady Sam Tarly’s little lady in waiting. He didn’t spot her. Daeron had spoke of her beauty earlier but said he wasn’t allowed to interact per the old cunt Hobart.

He eyed to the outer tables of hedge knights, lesser houses, and high bastards. He saw the black and white of the Three Towers in a handsome dress. She was being shook and grabbed at by what seemed a Bulwer man. The man was twice his size but Jace would not stand for a raper or deviant like his cousin. He got up from his table, mother raising a questioning brow.

Jace silently stalked round to where the Bulwer was leading the muffled Costayne off. He darted behind them, using the cover of the night. Leaping forward he held a knife to the man’s thick neck, right on the pumping jugular. Jacaerys rumbled, “You’ll be castrated and sent to the wall for defiling a lady of her standing you fool.”

The man stiffened and Jace could smell piss as he nicked the skin of his neck with sharp Valyrian steel. He stammered, “She asked for it s-sir. Swear on it.” Jacaerys coolly replied, “Remove that paw of yours and let’s hear Lady Costayne then.” She turned to peer over Bulwer’s wide shoulder, weeping, “Please help Prince Jacaerys, I wish to be with my family!”

Bulwer let go of her and dashed off into the woods with a curse. She bowed and thanked him profusely, tears staining perfect cheeks. Jace frowned, “I apologize if the fool got piss on your beautiful dress m’lady. How in the Seven Hells did you end up at the edge of the feast?”

She bit her lip to stay quiet, eventually whispering, “My family supports your mother. The Queen did not like that. And no, somehow the piss missed my dress, thank you.”

Jacaerys gruffed, “Good choice on your family, even in the nest of Greens. Let me escort you back to their table, yes?” She grabbed his hands and kissed them gently, demurring, “Yes my prince, thank you.” Jace kept his hand at the small of her back as he led her to the Tarly-Costayne table. They received her joyfully, cheering the prince on. Lord Costayne gave a solemn nod and smile. The girl turned with flushed cheeks, “A dance later perhaps?”

Jacaerys smiled, “I’ll be waiting.”

Rhaenyra questioned him, “What were you doing over there? Right in the Tower. Or one of them.” Jace puffed his chest out, “I saved Lady Costayne’s virtue from some brutish Bulwer second son.” Daemon patted his back and commended, “Good man. That will be a boon for their support. Lady Tarly thinks her as a daughter.”

When Jace spun the beauty around later, he dreamt of her in a gorgeous Targaryen maiden’s cloak. They shared a kiss in the crowd later, her asking him to visit on Vermax some time. Jace eagerly acquiesced, promising to find the time. Something no one was sure how much was left.

Aemond

Aemond growled to himself, “Fuck tourneys, fuck parties, fuck feasts, and especially fuck my brother.” He swung at a tourney dummy outside of the revelry. They wouldn’t come looking, maybe send Criston if something was really needed. There was no time for shite like this, the man needed to train for the war.

He wanted blood. Especially Strong blood.

The Targaryen’s second son sharply swung down at the dummy, grunting with effort. He thought of drunkard Aegon probably taking some serving wench’s cunt and swung again. Why did the gods resort him to this status? The spare. They must have a purpose for him somewhere.

He heard shuffling and a grunt from his left. A girl’s muffled squeal. Aemond’s hearing was better on his blind side. See Criston had assisted him into honing that into an advantage. He stopped his swinging and paused.

“Stop! My virtue! They will know!,” came a small voice.

Clothes were ripped. A gruff voice slurred, “Like they care, Green’s just waiting for a reason to make you a silent sister. Shut up whore!” Another muffled yelp echoed into the quiet tourney grounds.

Aemond crouched and moved forward, eye searching for the raper. He was taking a lady of repute, he could hear that much from her accent. He arrived outside the stables, a horse whinnying in distress. Horses were smart like that, like his Vhagar, could pick up on people. The blonde snuck around the stables, quietly peering through slats until he saw the pair.

A…pretty young lady. Being defiled by some brute. Aemond swung open the door and yelled, “Stop now you raping cunt!” The man turned around with a growl, standing to his full height. He was obviously drunk. The man reached for his sword, clearly unable to tell he was about to swing on a Targaryen as Aemond had his cloak up.

The man wore the bull sigil of Bulwer. He had a great sword. Perfect, Aemond could outmaneuver the lummox. The girl held her arms over her exposed chest, mouth agape, deep eyes wide. The man swung down in a clumsy arc, the prince deflecting it and jumping to the side to strike at the man’s ankle, cutting him down. Bulwer howled and cursed, struggling to get up. Aemond yanked down his cloak and tossed it to the girl.

The bull’s face was etched with fear upon realization of who he just attacked. Aemond laughed bitterly, amused at the surprise. He crouched over the man and sheathed his sword, pulling out a sharp knife. The blonde politely called out, “Close your eyes my lady, I have to do something before this fool is sent to the wall.”

Bulwer trembled, struck with fear. Aemond grinned as he unlaced the man’s breeches, “Won’t have to freeze your cock and balls off at the wall if you don’t have any more.”

Cries and squalling of pain filled the tourney grounds, widely unheard by the feast. Now cradling his once privates, the Bulwer whimpered and moaned in pain. Aemond wiped his hands on the deviant’s clean doublet and stood back up.

The girl had gotten up by now, still closing her eyes. Aemond cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “It’s over now my lady. He won’t be able to hurt a lady again.” She opened her teary eyes and wrapped Aemond into a tight hug. The prince was shocked, wrapping his lean limbs around her waist, the jewels pressing into his sleeves. He murmured, “You’re safe, yes, what’s your house my lady?”

“C-Costayne.”

Black supporters. Aemond’s lips pressed together. He wanted the lady to be a fervent supporter of his family. The second son needed a wife too. Maybe this ordeal would change things around. She sighed, “I thought you were this scary, mean, vicious dog they kept at the keep.”

Aemond laughed, genuinely, he liked her melodic tone. He replied, “I can be, but I also practice chivalry.” She hummed, “Yes, I’ve seen that.” Aemond wanted to stay in her arms, smell her scent even if marred by the musk of horse.

He asked anyways, “Would you like an escort back?”

She shook her head, divine face looking up to his. Costayne meekly asked, “Would it be inappropriate if we stayed like this for awhile, my prince?” Aemond found himself pressing his lips to hers gently, sharing a sweet peck. He murmured, “Probably so, but let’s find a place better than around him.” They both chuckled, held hands, and found a spot by the babbling brook.

They’d find them later. Holding hands and chatting. That would be the last time she stayed in the Reach for many a year.

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen x reader #asks answered

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yanderefairyangel · 5 months

Text

So about those new FEH ocs.

We know that FEH stands out as being unapolegitically influence by Norse mythology.

However, there is a lot of peculairity that distinguish Norse mythology from the other.

Ratatoskr

It's a squirrell that lives on one of Yggdrasil's branch. They run up and down the tree and play the role of messanger between the eagle Veðrfölnir who live above, and the snake Níðhöggr.

Most notably mentionned in the Poem of Edda

According to the several etymology brough up, Ratatoskr means "tusk the traveller" or "the climber tusk.

It is usually linked to the idea of repeating the circle of ever- destruction and rebirth. It is in short a messanger character.

It also serves the role of messanger between the gods however OG Ratatosk is a bit of a mischievious character who will often transmit between the eagle and the snake gossip to push them in destroying Yggdrasil to bring chaos, especially in the mythos of Ragnarok.

So how does it link to Book 8 ? Well.

Ratatoskr can turn into a squirrel however, she in a way is the one carrying the role of messanger as she tells Alfonse about the plan that her father planned against Askr and Embla.

youtube

Her introduction in heroes begin by showing Ratatoskr running like a squirell down the tree of Yggdrasil, before falling down the branch.

Her sisters, Hræsvelgr and Níðhöggr are a reference to the eagle and snake OG Ratatoskr would deliver message and what do they hold in hands ?

Yeah...exactly.

The opening is a clear reference to the OG myth.

She is linked to Yggdrasil's specifically

Hræsvelgr

It is the name of a Jotung aka a Giant that can turn into a Great Eagle that is considered responsible for brining the cold wind from the north.

Most notably mentionned in the Lay of Vafþrúðnir

It's name means "corpse swallower. Whereas Ratasokr is linked to Yggdrasil, Hræsvelgr is linked to Jötnar, the realms of the Giant/Jotun.

Hræsvelgr is in reality unrelated to the myth of Ratasokr however, teh Eagle to whom Ratasokr would deliver message's name is Veðrfölnir.

Veðrfölnir either refer to the name of an haw who sit between the eyes of the eagle receving Ratatoskr's messages (don't ask) or the eagle itself.

It's likely they took the Jotgun's name because of the Eagle being nameless in the first place.

Hræsvelgr has demonstrated that she would actually target Alfonse and try to kill him using her hands.

Níðhöggr

It's a weird animal describes a being a dragon, a snake or even a worm.

According to the etymology reported of its name, "níð" refers to the name given to some individual in Viking society as a marker of social stigma, implying the loss of honor.

It lives under the long and deep roots of Yggdrasil, in Náströnd, one of the place in Hel. Níðhöggr feast upon the body of the people send there, those guilty of muder, oath breaking and adultery.

Because of the message Ratatoskr transmit, he is lead to eat slowly the root of the world-tree to cause it to fall. Its arrival is hence considered a sign of Ragnarok. Its name means Malice striker.

In game Níðhöggr is presented as always getting intoxicated from eating some special "apples". However, in Norse mythology, apples are guarded in Asgard and eaten by the gods to not age, yes, in Norse mythology gods are NOT immortal nor eternally young. Not only can they be killed but they can grow old hence why they need the Golden apple kept in a garden in Asgard.

That constant state of intoxication might be a play of word. The FE wiki remarks her design is remensicent of a doctor, the same way Ratatoskr and Hræsvelgr are based on a nurse and a surgeon respectively. Snakes are used to represent the ambiguity of the greek word "pharmakon" which means both poison and medicine. The fruit she is eating from can be both a way to heal or a way to kill. The fact she is trying to poison Veronica is a reference to that considering her constant state of intoxication is poisonning her own body, but being linked to the snake, she is probably immune to that.

Eikþyrnir

It's a stag standing upon Vahalla that feast over the tree Læraðr.

It's name means "throny oak" and he is linked to Valhalla

Heiðrún

A goat by the side of Eikþyrnir who grazes upon Læraðr's branch. She produces mead for einherjar in Vahalla.

Her name would mean "she who bring the rest"

Læraðr

It's a tree often identified with Yggdrasil, standing at the top of Vahalla. Its name is ambiguous as it can be read as either arranger of betrayal or giver of protection.

Læraðr's ambuiguous name is most likely the key of this book's theme. We have a group of Divine beast called the Healer Hands that are now trying to kill Alfonse and Veronica.

Like I mentionned earlier, medicine have this ambuguous nature of being able to heal you but can also be a deadly poison. Likewise, the incapacity to establish the proper meaning of Læraðr's name means that he is either one who protects, either one who kill, who plot, who will make other rise up against one another. After all, the book open up right with Alfonse and the Askt Guardians pondering on whether or not Embla is trying to attack them yet again, making believe that the kingdom are trying to destroy each other and plotting to kill all the remainin rulers, Alfronse, Veronica and Queen Henriette being the main target.

However Læraðr share this common trait with OG Ratatoskr who had to carry out message to the Eagle and Níðhöggr to create discord between each other and push Níðhöggr to eat the roots of Yggradisl to make it fall.

Hence this Læraðr's who used to protect other by sending his "children" to heal other all across the realms become a Læraðr plotting the ruins of the kingdoms by creating discord, like Ratatoskr did in the original myth.

Moreover, Læraðr being occasionally associated to Yggdrasil as the same being and the Divine beast being all inspired by the myth collected in the Prose of Edda, it's likely that this connection is waht inspired the choice to have Læraðr being the father of the Divine Beast and the Divine Beast being siblings to each other.

We are at book 8, each one based on the story of different kingdom however Yggdrasil bears 9 kingdoms.

This one myth is particular because it's one of the legends that lead to the event of Ragnarok or if you prefer, the end of the world.

Is it a sign that we will soon approach the end of the main story in FEH ? Or another big conflict to come.

heh, we'll see when we got the next chapter

#feh #fire emblem heroes #fe heroes #book 8 #norse mythology #Youtube

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sapphire-writes · 10 months

Text

Thin Ice (modern!HOTD)

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Cregan Stark x Reader

summary: You travel home with Aegon for the funeral of his father.

rating: Mature (detailed warning below the cut)

series masterlist

previous chapter ~ Ch. 9: Mirrors ~ next chapter

warnings: language, descriptions of death/funerals, descriptions of cuticle picking, oral (m & f receiving, 69), p in v, fingering, spanking, general violence (sibling v. sibling)

word count: 4.9k

note: hope you enjoy this chapter! thanks for all the love so far!

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Aemond is freakishly punctual. You discover this when you make it through security and realize you’re two hours early for your flight. Aegon groans dramatically, pulling you towards a store to stock up on snacks while you wait.

Criston and Aemond seem unbothered, heading to camp out at the gate for the next couple of hours. After spending way too much money on snacks, and way too much time in the airport, your flight boards and you’re headed to the Targaryen home. Dragonstone.

You’d been there briefly once when you went home with Helaena last winter break. But that was short-lived as you left with the family to head north to their winter home. Aegon slept for most of the flight, his fingers laced through yours the entire time.

The drive back to the Targaryen home doesn’t take much time at all; Criston had left his car at the airport and sped out of the parking garage with surprising speed. Dragonstone was a pretty town, covered in a layer of powdery snow that had mostly melted to a gray slush on the streets.

The air was cold as you exited the warmth of the car when pulling up to the house. The last time you’d been here, it had been during the evening. But now, in the afternoon sun, the Targaryen family home stood in all its glory. A tall, brick mansion really, more so than a home. As you walk up the steps you keep your hand in Aegon’s until the front door opens and you pull your hand away.

Helaena runs out the front door to greet you, her hair like a silver cloud trailing behind her.

“You came with Egg,” Helaena says, crushing you in a hug.

You wonder for a moment if she knows if she senses it somehow, this thing between you and her brother, but then she continues speaking.

“Thank you for getting him here,” she murmurs against your shoulder, “It means a lot. To my mom.”

Your heart sinks and you nod.

“Of course, Hel,” you tell her.

She hugs each of her brothers, following Aemond into the house. You and Aegon trail behind a few feet. His eyes fall on your empty hand, his expression like that of a dog that’s been kicked. You reach for him once more.

“After,” you tell Aegon, squeezing his hand. He nods, understanding.

You'd spent the afternoon catching up with Helaena, trying not to wonder how Aegon is doing. He’d made himself scarce this evening, trying to give you as much space as possible to be with Helaena. But you missed him. Even under the same roof, you feel so far from him.

You’re getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth with Helaena in the rather large hallway bathroom. Double marble sinks, a full shower. Sometimes you forget just how loaded the Targareyns are.

Helaena finishes brushing her teeth, retreating to her room. As she leaves, Aegon pushes by her, joining you in the bathroom. His violet eyes meet yours in the mirror, a mischievous smile on his face.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

“Brushing my teeth,” he answers, placing the toothbrush in his mouth.

You roll your eyes and continue brushing. Aegon reaches out his free hand, pinching the fabric of your pajama top between his thumb and forefinger. You raise an eyebrow at him, before spitting into the sink.

He tugs gently at your shirt, beckoning you closer.

“Come cuddle with me,” he murmurs, around his toothbrush, poking you in the side, “I miss you.”

You twist away from him, a giggle leaving your lips. Your chest warms with the knowledge that he’s missed you as much as you’ve been missing him.

“I can’t,” you tell him, as he rolls your eyes.

You wipe your mouth as he finishes brushing his teeth. After he spits he stands in front of you, smiling widely to show his handy work. You release a breathy laugh at his silly behavior, to which his eyes narrow playfully.

“Kiss goodnight?” Aegon asks, jutting out his lower lip. You decide to indulge him, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

He hums, hands reaching for your hips, pulling him back against you to kiss you once more.

“Goodnight,” you giggle against his lips. Aegon kisses you again.

And again.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs against your lips, hand reaching to cup the back of your neck, still continuing to kiss you.

You somehow find the strength to pull yourself away from his intoxicating touch, even as he whines disapprovingly as you do so. You head back to Helaena’s room, a stupid grin plastered on your face as you enter. She’s laying in bed already, gaze locked on her ceiling.

You join her, laying beside her and mirroring her position. There are several glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on the ceiling, glowing faintly a greenish-yellow color. You start to count them, listening to the rise and fall of Helaena’s breath.

“I’m not sad,” she says suddenly, and you stop counting at thirteen.

“What do you mean?” you ask, rolling on your side to face her.

Helaena sighs and closes her eyes before she continues speaking.

“My dad and I weren’t that close. Not really. And…” she wets her lips, “He really only had one daughter.” Helaena’s eyes remain closed as she says it. You bring your hand to hold hers, squeezing it softly.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she tells you, a tear escaping her eye and rolling off her cheek, onto the pillow, “I just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”

“Fuck how you’re supposed to feel,” you tell her, “Whatever you feel, however you feel about this Hel is okay. There’s no wrong way.”

Helaena’s eyes flutter open and she turns her head to look at you. Her lavender eyes watch you a moment before she purses her lips and nods.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she says softly.

“Me too,” you agree, returning her smile with one of your own. You squeeze her hand once more before letting go.

Helaena’s breathing grows heavy as you lie on your back once more, starting over with your counting of the stars on her ceiling.

You make it to 72 before you decide you really can’t sleep. Helaena snores beside you as you fiddle with your fingers before checking the time on your phone. Even with the brightness on the lowest setting it still feels too harsh on your eyes as you glance at the time.

1:37 am

Fuck.

You can hear muffled noises from around the house, down the hall. You doubt Alicent is getting any sleep. Apparently, a lot happens right after someone dies. It seems people have been in and out of the house all day speaking with Viserys’ widow.

It’s going to be a long night if you can’t sleep.

You rise from Helaena’s bed, letting the sheets fall as you quietly tip-toe out of her room. You close the door gently behind you as you head down the hall. You’ll just grab a glass of water, and then-

His voice. You clearly hear Aegon’s voice behind the fourth door you pass. It’s closed and you lean closer. It’s Aegon for sure. He’s cursing someone out, probably playing a video game or something. You knock gently on the door and his voice stops. You hear him shuffle around for a moment before the door opens, revealing a shirtless Aegon with gray sweats hanging low on his hips.

Aegon’s lips curl into a smile as he sees you, and he steps to the side, motioning for you to enter.

“This is your room?” you ask, stepping inside as he closes the door behind you.

Aegon nods, holding his arms open. It’s a nice room, decent sized with a large king-sized bed in the middle. It looks like Alicent took control of decorating- apart from several hockey posters the room is very not Aegon.

“It’s nice,” you tell him, smiling.

“You come to cuddle?” Aegon asks, walking toward you.

“Just for a little bit,” you warn him as he stands in front of you, “I can’t sleep.”

“I know the perfect thing for that,” he says like he’s discovered the cure for greyscale.

You laugh softly.

“I’m sure you do,” you tease as Aegon smiles pulling you in for a kiss.

He kisses you slowly and softly, building with intensity as he tilts his head. With a sigh, he slips his tongue into your mouth, the familiar cold of his tongue ring making you shiver. Aegon backs up, taking you with him as his knees hit the edge of the bed and he tumbles onto it.

Your hands tangle in his silver hair, nails scraping against the back of his neck. Aegon groans as you do that.

“You wanna play another game?” Aegon asks, kissing the tip of your nose.

“You know you sound like Jigsaw when you say that, right?” you tease, kissing him again. Aegon moves to kiss your collarbone, lips climbing up your neck.

“Wanna play a game?” Aegon says, imitating the Saw character. You burst into laughter, and Aegon places his hand over your mouth, shushing you.

“Shhh,” he says softly, though he’s in stitches as well.

You take a moment more before you’re okay enough to continue.

“What game?” you ask, anticipation curling in your belly.

“I want to see who can cum first,” Aegon says, keeping his voice low, “And whoever does, loses.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. He always says these things so casually, like he has no idea it sends your pulse racing. Or maybe he does, maybe that’s why he likes doing it. His fingers are tracing a path down your side on the exposed flesh from your pajama top that has ridden up.

“Aegon,” you tell him sternly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Your family is here.”

“Makes it even more fun,” he tells you with a shrug as his fingers trace lazy patterns on your lower stomach, “Just stay quiet, baby.”

“That’s kinda difficult when you’re oooh,” you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as his fingers drift below your waistband, stroking the front of your panties.

“Fuck you’re wet already,” Aegon muses, “I get you all excited, bunny?” His teeth find purchase on your earlobe as he says it and you buck your hips against his fingers. “I think you want to play.”

“Aegon,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulder, dragging him closer to you.

“Say it,” Aegon encourages, fingers slipping underneath your panties and dragging slow circles over your clit.

Your lashes flutter and you meet his eyes, warmth flooding through you.

“I want to play,” you whine, as he sinks a finger into your tight heat, “Oh fuck.”

Aegon hums appreciatively, kissing the side of your neck as he steadily fingers you, curling his finger to stroke against your sweet spot.

“Give me one, and then we’ll play,” he says, adding a second finger inside you. Your jaw slacks and you spread your legs wider, bending your knees against the mattress allowing him more room to continue.

Your orgasm quickly builds, winding tighter in your belly until your pussy constricts his fingers, spasming into your release. Your legs tremble and Aegon removes his fingers slowly, bringing them to his mouth to lick clean.

“Fucking perfect,” he moans as you watch with wide eyes. Aegon grins before laying on his back. “Now get up here.”

Your face floods with warmth.

“What?” you ask.

“You’re gonna ride my face,” Aegon clarifies.

“Are-are you sure?” you manage to squeak. You’d done it a couple of times- guys loved 69’ing for some reason- but you were never the biggest fan when doing it with male partners. But for some reason, the thought of doing it with Aegon, and the temptation of his game, had your heart racing.

“Mhmm,” Aegon says, “Very sure. Desperate actually.” That makes you giggle. He always knows how to make you feel comfortable.

“Come up here, bunny, I’m getting impatient,” he teases and you remove your shorts and shirt. Aegon takes the time to remove his sweatpants and you get a glimpse of his full tattoo that runs down his ribs to his thigh.

You’ve only seen the top half before, so you find yourself staring for a moment, admiring the full body of the dragon, before Aegon whistles at you.

“Goddamn, bunny,” he says, eyes roaming your naked form.

You don’t make him wait any longer. You move to straddle his face, thighs on either side of his head as you lower your dripping pussy onto him. Just as his tongue spreads your folds, you wrap your hand around his hardened length, earning a moan from him.

Aegon truly has a beautiful cock. You’d never taken the time to appreciate it as much as you do right now. Long, thick, and pale except for the red tip that weeps with precum. There are several veins running down the shaft that you run your fingers along gently, causing Aegon to shiver. He’s girthier than anyone you’d been with previously.

Anticipation coils in your gut at the thought of sucking Aegon’s cock. You hadn’t done that yet. A moan leaves your lips as he drags his tongue to circle your clit before diving lower to tease at your entrance. You wet your lips, pumping him in your hand a few more times before lowering your lips to the tip.

You wrap your lips around his tip, letting your tongue flick out against his slit, cleaning off the precum that gathered there. The warm and salty taste coats your tongue and you hum appreciatively. Aegon hisses below you, you can feel his breath against your center. You hollow your cheeks, still just suckling at his tip. This awards you a deep groan from him and he lets his hand smack harshly against your right asscheek.

You yelp in surprise, popping your mouth off of his cock for a moment.

“You tease,” Aegon murmurs, before starting to fuck you with the warm, wet muscle of his tongue. You giggle, bringing your mouth to him once more.

You bob your head around him, taking more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, and trying to remember to breathe through your nose. Jesus, he’s big. You take what you can’t fit into your mouth into your hand as you move up and down along his shaft. Drool seeps down from your mouth, and you lube up your hand to join in your ministries.

“Fuck,” Aegon curses below you and you can’t help but smile. He digs his hands into your asscheeks, pressing you as close as he can to his eager mouth as he laps away, “Jesus bunny.”

Pride courses through you, and you move your hand to play with his balls. His hips jerk upwards at your touch as you fondly them carefully in tandem with the movement of your mouth.

“Okay shiiiit,” Aegon says breathily, “You’re trying to win, fuuuck.” You hum against him as he curses, hoping the vibrations drive him crazy. They seem to, as he releases another string of curses and brings his hand to help his mouth.

You moan as you feel his finger enter you, curling upwards against your sweet spot, stroking it with intense purpose. The bastard knows how to get what he wants. You try to keep up your rhythm, you have him right in the palm of your hand, but then he adds another finger, wraps his lips around your bud, and sucks and you tremble against him, grinding your pussy against his face as you fall apart.

“Fuck!” you quietly yell as your orgasm crashes over you and Aegon chuckles from below.

You pull yourself off of him, and he grabs your hips, pushing you onto your back and climbing on top of you. His smile is smug, and his chin is glistening with your slickness as he kisses you. You hold him close, kissing him desperately as he grinds against you, his cock wet and heavy against your thigh.

“You win,” you breathe, “What’s your prize?”

Aegon hums against your lips, reaching down to sling your leg over his shoulder, before guiding his cock to your entrance. Your lips part as he sinks in, stretching you out in the best way before bottoming out in your tight heat. Aegon presses his forehead against you, resting for a moment, not moving.

“You’re my prize,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Emotion swells in your chest at his words, and he rolls his hips against you. Sparks of pleasure dance through your abdomen, trickling down your legs and up your spine.

It’s slow and sweet, every roll of his hips carefully calculated like he’s trying to feel every inch of you. The pressure in your gut builds with every thrust and Aegon brushes some sweat from your forehead. You tremble, from pleasure and the emotions of lovemaking.

Lovemaking.

That’s what it feels like, as he looks into your eyes, as you hold his neck in one hand and claw at his lower back with the other. This feels like love. This feels like love. Your breathing turns to gasps as Aegon brings his hand between you, rubbing your clit.

“Aegon,” you whimper. I love you.

“I know baby,” he answers, but you don’t say anything except his name.

“Aegon,” you whimper again, fighting tears as he buries his face in your shoulder.

You slide your leg off of his shoulder, wrapping it around his waist, keeping him deep inside of you as you cum for the third time. Aegon’s hips stutter as he finds his release as well, staying inside you a moment more, kissing your lips again.

He lays on top of you, nearly crushing you not that you mind. You want him to never move, just stay on top of you like your own personal weighted blanket.

“Stay,” he murmurs, kissing your lips softly as he wraps his arms around you, holding your tightly against his chest, “Stay, just for a little bit.”

You should head back to Helaena’s room. It’s already too risky, hooking up with Aegon right down the hall from her. You’d pushed your luck already. You sigh contentedly, nuzzling against his chest.

“Just for a little bit,” you agree, eyelids fluttering shut.

“Egg, you need to get up and-”

Your eyes fly open and you sit up, coming face to face with Helaena who has just walked into Aegon’s room. Aegon sits up, getting tangled in the sheets, falling to the floor with a loud thump. You’d fallen asleep. Shit. Shitshitshit.

She’s already dressed for the funeral, wearing a black dress with buttons down the front and on the short sleeves. They shimmer in the light like the eyes of a spider. Her hair is pulled back, out of her face in a low ponytail at the base of her skull. Helaena’s eyes are wide, but there’s something behind them. A confirmation. Like she had a feeling but couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

“Wait,” you call, getting out of bed, leaving Aegon groaning from the floor. You chase after Helaena, “Hel-”

She turns to face you, lips firmly pressed together.

“No,” she says firmly, “No, not your fault.”

You shake your head.

“But it is-”

“No it's his,” she spits the words like venom, “This is what he does, Y/N.”

Tears fill your eyes.

“I know,” you tell her, “And I’m so sorry- but Hel, he’s chang-”

“Don’t,” she says, “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this.”

“Hel please,” you beg, reaching for her arm. She pulls away, not meeting your eyes. “Get dressed. The family is going first but Harwin will be around to drive you. He’ll be waiting out front.” She hurries away after that, walking down the hall and out of sight.

“Y/N?” Aegon calls from the doorway of his room. He’d thrown on sweats to make himself somewhat decent.

“Oh god,” you breathe, “Oh fuck what do I do?”

“It’s okay,” Aegon says, coming up and placing his arms around you, pulling you into a hug, “I’ll talk to her, it’ll be alright.”

Tears fall, beginning to drip onto his shoulder as he strokes the back of your head as you continue to cry. You can’t ruin your friendship with Helaena. But you can’t ruin your relationship with Aegon either. Is it even a relationship? Your mind drifts to the previous night but you shove away the thoughts as you push away from him.

“We have to get dressed,” you tell him, wiping your face, “I’ll see you there, okay?”

Aegon watches you carefully but nods. You press a kiss to his cheek before heading back to Helaena’s room, and shutting the door.

After getting ready, you watch out the window as the family gets into their cars, and a gentle rain begins.

The family rides in two black Cadillacs. Rhaenyra rides with Alicent, while Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron ride separately with each other.

Helaena punches Aegon in the nose when the doors close.

“Ouch!” Aegon yells as Helaena continues raining fists upon her elder brother.

“You stupid, man-whore!” she yells, as Aemond grabs her forearms dragging her into the back seats of the car, “Couldn’t keep your sad dick away from her, could you?”

Aegon pinches the bridge of his nose, mouth open in a mixture of pain and shock. Aemond still holds a squirming Helaena as the door opens once more and Daeron slides in. His eyes are wide, a confused expression on his face.

“What happened?”

“Hel’s mental!” Aegon says, his voice coming out strained from his nose being blocked.

“She’s my best friend!” Helaena yells as the car begins to move. Cole is used to their antics and barely glances up to check on them in the rearview mirror. “My best friend Aegon. And I told you, I told you to leave her alone!”

“I know!” Aegon says, patting his nose. There’s no blood, luckily. “Fuck you could’ve broken my nose!”

“You asshole!” she yells, eyes wide, her voice shrill, “Why? Why did you sleep with her?”

“She knows?” Aemond asks, glancing at Aegon. Helaena’s head snaps toward him.

“You knew?” she asks, breathing heavily, eyebrows knitting together, “Wait, how do you know?”

Aemond, sensing he’s made a mistake, shuts his mouth.

“How do you know, Aemond?” Helaena repeats.

“I don’t know,” Aemond says quickly.

“Nice job genius,” Aegon says, shaking his head.

“Last night….wasn’t the first time?” Helaena asks. Aegon and Aemond share a look but say nothing.

Helaena punches Aemond on the shoulder, hard. He winces, letting out a yelp, and putting up his hands to defend himself.

“It wasn’t one time?? You didn’t tell me!?” Helaena accuses, as Daeron reaches back to stop her. Helaena glares at him, “Did you know too?”

“I don’t know what’s going on!” Daeron yells, “Stop hitting!”

“Assholes! All of you!” Helaena shouts, deciding to focus her anger on Aegon again.

She reaches for him, clawing at his arm as he pushes himself away, pressing against the window of the car. He swats at her hands, slapping them away from him, and begins to laugh, kicking his feet at her.

“I’m going to kill you!”

“Hel stop!”

The car comes to a harsh stop and Criston throws the car in park, leaning to look back at them.

“Alright enough!” he says, and the siblings stop quarreling, “Look….I know this is a hard day for you….but you can’t kill each other right now! Can you keep it together? For one afternoon?”

Four pairs of lilac eyes watch him. Criston sighs dramatically, knowing he’s asking for too much.

“He start-” Helaena begins.

“I don’t care,” Criston says, “Put it on pause. Please.”

Helaena lets out an annoyed huff, fixing her hair. Aegon sucks his teeth loudly before clicking his tongue, earning a glare from Aemond. Daeron still wears a confused expression on his face. Criston exits the car and opens the door for the siblings. Daeron pops out first, followed by Aemond.

As Aegon moves to exit next, Helaena grabs his shoulder stopping him. Aegon meets her eyes. They’ve often been referred to as twins, born almost exactly a year apart. Aegon never understood beyond that how they were alike- he always thought it was Aemond who Helaena shared that sibling connection with. But Alicent always insisted that it was Aegon and Helaena who were more alike than either cared to admit.

Helaena wears her fury unmasked, written all over her face. Perhaps that’s part of it. Aegon and Helaena cannot hide their emotions as Aemond or Daeron can. They feel and show everything deeply.

“You end things, and you end them today,” Helaena says solemnly.

“I can’t Hel,” Aegon says, his nose still aching. He hopes she doesn’t decide to punch him again, if she does she’ll definitely draw blood this time.

Helaena grimaces.

“Yes you can,” she tells him, “You can have any girl you want. Not her.”

“I only want her,” Aegon insists, “Hel I lo…I really care about her.”

“You’re going to hurt her. You are. It’s what you do,” she tells him.

People have said that to him before, but it never cuts as deep when they say it. But Alicent, or Helaena…their words have meaning. Aegon feels the cut of every word she speaks, slicing through him like he’s made of butter. It's physically painful and cracks his jaw to disguise the trembling of his lower lip.

“I’m not like that anymore,” Aegon says softly, “You know that.”

“I don’t trust you,” she hisses, “Not with her.”

“Tough shit,” he snaps and Helaena tilts her head, a warning look in her eye, “Look, I’m sorry Hel. I didn’t think this would happen, but it did. And she cares about me too.”

“Fuck off,” Helaena says loudly, “I know you. I know you.” She holds his gaze until Aegon forces himself to look away.

“Hel I’m sorry,” Aegon says softly, still not looking at her. He exits the car, turning to face her. “I really care about her. I’m not going to hurt her. And I know you don’t trust me, and I get it. You have every reason to but….” he trails off.

Helaena exits the car, and Criston holds an umbrella over the siblings as the rain picks up. She watches Aegon, watches as he struggles to find the words.

“Let’s go,” Helaena says softly. This is a conversation that needs to be saved for later.

She swallows her anger, takes her brother’s hand, and leads him into Sept.

Harwin drove you to the sept, where you stayed in the back with others attending the funeral. You kept your eyes on Helaena and Aegon but gave them their space. Thankfully, the rain had let up for the graveside service and the lowering of Viserys’ casket.

The air was cold as you stood to the side, pressing your hands deeper into the pockets of your coat. The family stands silently together, the tension palpable between Rhaenyra and her half-siblings.

Aegon sniffles, silent tears running down his cheeks. Helaena looks at him, eyes falling on his shaky hands. He’s picked his cuticles again, they’re red and raw like Alicent’s. Mother and son are mirrors of each other.

Aegon is Alicent’s twin in many ways. They share the same large eyes and soft jawline not afforded to her other children. Even their lips are the same, the cupid’s bow waiting to be kissed.

Alicent stands beside him, hands clasped in front of her inside a pair of silk black gloves. Aegon doesn’t hide his pain, he wears it like a badge of armor.

Helaena’s eyes flicker to where you stand, meeting yours for the first time this afternoon before she breaks from her family line to approach you. Alicent’s eyes follow her. You raise your gaze from the ground as she stands in front of you, her lavender eyes watery. She holds out her hand.

Your lower lip trembles, but you take it as she guides you to where her family stands. Brings you next to Aegon.

Replaces her hand with his.

You meet her eyes again, understanding. Helaena presses her lips in a tight smile, before shifting her gaze to her elder brother. Aegon is watching her, his lower lip quivering and fresh tears painting his cherubic cheeks. Helaena reaches up, brushing her thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tear. Aegon’s shoulders slack at her touch and she hugs him, pressing her face against his shoulder.

Aegon holds her tightly with one arm, still holding your hand with the other. Helaena whispers something to him you can’t make out, but you watch a smile twitch on the corner of his mouth as he nods at whatever she says.

You stand sandwiched between them for the rest of the service, and at some point, Helaena grabs your hand to hold as well.

note: screaming, crying, throwing up MY BABIES!!!

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