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wardlowsbabydoll · 2 years

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Country Bar- House of Black

Once again, this is another one that literally came from me watching Footloose 2011 so enjoy this pure chaos

Word Count: 958

This came from a conversation with @josiewrites and @mrsmatt and this is the best kind of chaos

Warnings: Use of alcohol (wait until your legal children)

Notes: I kinda hate this but I'm just gonna run with it, no regrets.

It was Julia’s 21st birthday and she had asked to go to a country bar. You were all for it, country bars were so much fun, and you knew that being a former cheerleader that she missed being able to dance at times. Being a former dancer yourself you were more than willing to go to a country bar and participate in some line dancing.

It had taken you both a lot of convincing to get your fellow House of Black members to go with you, especially Malakai. Buddy was definitely the easiest to convince, Brody not far behind, but Malakai was a tough nut to crack. You and Julia being the youngest of the stable definitely got you a lot of leeway with the guys, they were fiercely of you both, and would gladly burn the world down if you two were ever injured.

As you all walked into the bar, you and Julia immediately made your way over to the counter to order a drink. You could feel the looming presence of your three teammates as you and Julia both got ID’ed. The bartender smiled and wished Julia a happy birthday before taking your orders. You could tell Julia really didn’t know what to order so you asked the bartender for a recommendation. He offered up a Malibu and Pineapple and Julia agreed to it, you ordered a White Russian, and you heard the guys ask for whiskey.

Once you received your drinks, you all drifted towards a high top and drank for a bit. You laughed when Julia tried her first sip of her drink and pulled a face. But once her initial sip went down it didn’t take her long to finish her drink. You were also pretty quick to finish yours, both of you really wanting to dance more than anything. You both had tried to drag the guys to the dance floor but didn’t have any luck.

You could hear the loud cheers when Fake I.D. from Footloose 2011 came on, you and Julia almost immediately rushed onto the dance floor to join the line. As you two got lost in the fun, you couldn’t hear Brody, and Buddy laughing at the two of you, while Malakai had the ghost of a smile on his face. Eventually, it looked almost too enticing so Buddy joined you both picking up the dance fairly quickly. Brody looked at Malakai who gave him a nonplussed look in response so Brody shrugged, chugged his drink and joined you guys on the dance floor, although he was far less graceful than he had let himself on to be, causing you and Julia to laugh at him slightly.

As the dance shifted you all looked at Malakai who was still nursing his whiskey, but he had his watchful gaze on your group, more specifically you and Julia. He knew Brody and Buddy could handle themselves but he felt an extra protective instinct regarding you both seeing as he took you under his wing. Julia tried to motion him onto the dance floor but he politely shook his head no.

You leaned over and whispered into Julia’s ear to use the birthday excuse and she quickly nodded and made her way over to the tall man who stuck out like a sore thumb in his black suit; at least Brody and Buddy had dressed down into some jeans and a nice shirt. The three of you had gotten lost in your dancing that you hadn’t even noticed that Julia had managed to drag Malakai out on the dance floor.

She and Malakai weren’t so much as dancing but swaying back and forth as she rattled on about her upcoming match and he gave her advice. When the song was over, Buddy teasingly asked Malakai to dance who sternly said, “the only reason I agreed was because it’s her birthday, and I agreed to once dance and it certainly wasn’t with you.” You all laughed it off because you could see the smile, threatening to poke through on Malakai’s face.

Julia had decided that she wanted to drink some more so you had gladly offered to go with her, once again feeling the intimidating presence of your company enough to make any unwanted attention go away. Between the two of you alone, you both had consumed at least 3 more drinks each before Malakai decided it was time to go home. Brody had to essentially carry Julia, because as a new drinker she was definitely a lightweight. You leaned on to Buddy mainly, you were not as drunk as Julia, but you were definitely in the floaty buzzed feeling.

Brody had managed to get Julia into the backseat of the car before Buddy climbed in and helped you in. Brody hopped up front with Malakai and he looked in the rearview mirror to make sure you were both alright, you were talking to Buddy about something, while the birthday girl had managed to fall asleep, he winced inwardly when he realized that she was going to be hungover tomorrow, and most like, so would you.

The drive back was quiet so Brody, not being one to enjoy silence put the radio and soon the sounds of ABBA filled the car, causing you and Buddy to start singing along in the backset, Malakai was impressed Julia didn’t end up waking up. And as he continued driving he questioned himself many times why he was friends with the lot of you, although he was grateful to feel almost normal with you too, instead of just being a “spooky cult leader”.

Although that was a secret he swore to take to the grave, he couldn’t let you all get big heads, could he?

#house of black #spooky murder husbands #spooky murder wife #malakai black #buddy matthews #Brody king #julia hart #aew imagine #aew x reader #Malakai black fluff #buddy matthews fluff #Brody king fluff #Julia hart fluff

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lookwhattheydonetomysongma-blog · 2 years

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I have a little over $300,000, in cash stashed and hidden away. It’s not for a rainy day. It’s not for a whole new face or body or a trip to Italy for three months. It’s for the rest of my life. The life I’ll have after I kill my husband and leave forever. Of course I can’t tell you where I’m going or what my new name will be, that’s just the right amount of info to get me caught. But I do want to share my story, so I’ll have to open up a little.

We got married 10 years ago this September. We used to be so in love, and then; we weren’t. One day I came home and as I hung up my keys and took off my long brown boots I walked into the kitchen to see my husband and a long gangly blonde. Not just their hands but their lips were intertwined. My husband opened a curious eye that landed on me standing there in awe. His whole body shot back like a bolt of electricity just hit him. It was at that point my eyes blurred and everything went hazy…

“Rebecca what are you doing home, this isn’t what it looks like, she’s my new assistant Tiffany I told you about”

The world felt like it was rolling over and I was about to fall.

His words were glazing over my brain like a thick coat of gooey frosting. I wasn’t even hearing him.

After a few seconds of standing there.

I nodded my head up and down like I understood.

I understood perfectly.

I understood that the last ten years of marriage and the two before that of dating now meant nothing. I understood that the man I thought I was sleeping next to every night was not the man I thought he was. He was slime. He was not even a man. Just an idea now. A failed idea.

I made my way to our grand staircase.

I remember when we bought this monstrosity of a house and I thought of all the possibilities that would be our family and our life together. But now I just dreaded having to walk through it. He was still talking trying to explain his way out of it but there was nothing to explain, nothing I needed to hear. His new assistant started a month ago and all of those late nights at the office I realized were not filled with work but rather pleasure. I had wondered why we had stopped having sex and why he was so quick to sleep and turn over at night. I understood now.

I understood everything perfectly now.

I think he expected more of a reaction from me but I couldn’t help it; I had fallen silent and had no words for him.

I went upstairs and locked our master bedroom and drowned myself in blankets.

I can’t believe what a fool I’d been. That’s what every woman thinks when this shit happens right?

I hated feeling like a fool. I was always the smart one of my family. The most resourceful, the best at school and very successful in my field of work. I have never felt so stupid in my entire life. All because of one man and his inability to keep it in his pants. I remember his personalized wedding vows. It Made me sick to think about now.

“I will always be yours faithfully…”

He quoted that cliche song and I remember thinking about that word faithfully a little too much. Why would he choose those words? Maybe because he knew that would be his biggest problem.

The next few weeks went by were a blur. After moving into a motel he was sending me flowers every afternoon. He was calling and texting apologizing everyday. I never really responded just more nodding.

A few months before everything happened I had watched a series on deadly women. There was one woman who killed her husband with a poison from a flower she grew in her garden. She watched him eat dinner that night for the last time. There was another woman who hired a hit man but she was arrested when the hit man was caught. And a third woman who took her husband to a tropical vacation and that night when he was alseep she bludgeoned him with a rock from their ocean front walk out patio she then began hitting herself multiple times until she was so bloodied she couldn’t see out of one eye. Then she ran from her room wildly screaming for help. And she got away with it, until she cracked from the guilt and confessed to police. I couldn’t stop thinking about that last woman she had almost a perfect plan. But then ruined it for herself.

Finally one day I called him and said I wanted him to come home. I told him I forgave him and that I knew I held some blame because I knew we hadn’t had sex in a while. I told him that there was nothing we couldn’t get through. And that night he was back in the house. He told me he was done with the girl and of course I smiled and nodded.

We had sex that night and he fell asleep facing me this time not turned away. And I lay awake. I lay awake and I watched his breathing. Slowly his lips would let out a slip of breath and I couldn’t help but cringe.

Of all the lies I told him today the sex was the biggest lie. It took every inch of me not to attack him and rip into his skin. I wanted to maul him to death. But instead I had kissed him, gently and softly. I did this so he would never expect what was coming to him. So that what would happen next, would hit him like a fucking freight train. Just like it hit me. Some people say revenge is a dish best served cold. You could say some people have experience in that area. And as I lie here this night watching his silly little breath slip in and out, you could even say I’m about to be very experienced in that area.

#horror fiction #horror #grim #perfect wife #horror story #mary shelley #murder #ryan murphy #spooktober #spooky season #spooky #October #murderous intent

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trimmedbushproductions · 8 months

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a nonexhaustive list of Bells Hells allies:

former attempted murder victim, and her Pussy

two car mechanics (they also know how to make bombs)

Kimothee Chalamet

The Terrible Tinkerer of Tal'Dorei

more importantly, his hot wife (she's SO hot) (have we mentioned how hot she is)

a baker (also she can resurrect people? but she's better known for the baking)

Dorian Storm *raucous audience applause*

also Cyrus Wyvernwind, we guess *less applause*

Fearne's grandma (face #1)

weird fungal hivemind that wants to go to the moon

weird spooky fey kidnapper that already IS on the moon

weird red alien that's FROM the moon

skyship captain (no longer in possession of a skyship)

an armless statue

the second Bells Hells franchised branch (FRIDA and co.)

Fearne's grandma (face #2)

MIA dirt wizard and monk with 5000 abs (she's SO hot) (have we mentioned how hot she is)

some academics currently trapped in the plane of fire. whoops

#Critical Role #CR spoilers #Critical Role spoilers #Bells Hells

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inklore · 9 months

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🩸 — 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍!

since the spooky season is fast approaching, and as a little kinktober appetizer, @psychedelic-ink and i have decided to do a little writing challenge to get us all excited and in the mood to be gripping the sheets from the spooky thrills of course.

and to keep this fun we have given you many many options! we have compiled a twelve day prompts list you can go by, or if that's not your thing we have listed twenty three different pick and choose options to create whatever kind of fic you want, even if you want to do half the days daily prompts but switch out this prompt dialogue for that au or trope or kink, you can literally do whatever your heart desires!

THE RULES.

the challenge will go on from the 19th - 30th of this month. you can do as many or as little amount of days as you choose.

any fandoms are welcome, literally any characters, ships, but please no rpf.

no minors should be interacting with let alone posting for this challenge.

dark content, light content, dubcon/noncon, is all welcomed but please tag everything accordingly. grooming, underage, and incest however are not allowed.

there are no word limits but please use that readmore.

tag #hauntedhoedown so we can read and reblog your work!

DAY ONE: taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

DAY TWO: murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"

DAY THREE: inspired by your favorite lana del rey song (if not a lana fan then any fav song of yours) + stalker / yandere au or love triangle gone wrong

DAY FOUR: artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing."

DAY FIVE: gothic au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.” + a masquerade au or a good ol' priest au

DAY SIX: animal shapeshifter au + "he's a monster" + "he's perfect"

DAY SEVEN: stranded au or slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

DAY EIGHT: cosmic horror au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."

DAY NINE: “do you like it when i bleed for you?” + the toxic exes trope or cult au

DAY TEN: zombie apocalypse au + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."

DAY ELEVEN: black swan au or inspired by your fav psychological thriller + “they die for love, you kill for it.”

DAY TWELVE: vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."

if following the above isn't your thing and you want to pick and choose yourself that's great! we also highly rec this random generator if you wanna live life by the edge, each category has 23 options to pick and choose from so customize the generator accordingly!

AUs:

steampunk / cyber punk

fairytale retelling

revenge

mythology / monster

virtual reality

gothic

taboo (see great options here)

slasher

game gone wrong

witchcraft

addams family

bonnie and clyde

spy / secret agent

assassins

x-files

circus / carnival

hitch hiking

basement wife

time travel

urban legend(s)

american horror story inspired

vampire / supernatural

pirate / mermaid

DIALOGUE PROMPTS:

"do you like when i touch you like this? i can keep going if you want me to."

"i can see how badly you want this, so i'm going to make sure you get it."

“this fear you feel? it won't last.”

“you are mine, whether you agree or not.”

“why do you keep following me?”

"i can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together."

"you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

"i'm so close, can you feel it?"

"tell me what you want me to do and i'll do it, no matter the cost."

"you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left."

"i want to see you bleed."

"they're dead...because of you."

“i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”

“everything i've done.. every horrible atrocity, it's been for you.”

"it's just a little blood."

“don't you know how sick with love i am for you?”

“i would burn the world for you.”

"this is so fucked up." "you like it."

"finders keepers."

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

"tell me you want me back. tell me i'm forgiven."

"you're a monster." "that's never stopped you before."

"i've killed for you, who else can say that?"

TROPES:

mob / mafia

soft!dark

dubcon / noncon

soulmate / fated mates

mind control / telepathy

cheating

final girl

once is not enough

haunted manor

dark academia

enemies to lovers

haunted object

vengeful ghost

coven

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

unrequited love

creation / creator vs monster

'i'll find you in every universe / century'

reverse harem

cursed / fuck or die

curiosity killed the cat

theatre phantom

fate worse than death

KINKS:

biting

corruption / authoritarian

somnophilia

begging

dacryphilia

breath play

knife play / blood play

jealousy / sharing / possessive

aphrodisiacs

hunter / prey

humiliation / degradation

mirror sex

deprivation / immobilized / bondage

costume

size

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

body worship

shotgunning / swallowing / facial

gagging

torture / surrender

hate sex / make up sex / phone sex

magical healing [redacted]

soft!dom / pleasure!dom

ETC PROMPTS:

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

1970s porno filming (turned into a blood bath)

touch her and die except who the hell are you and why are you obsessed with me?

a trip to the circus (or carnival) ends with you stuck there...forever

you just inherited this creepy mansion where people where murdered what could go wrong?

a ritual gone wrong and now i'm bound to a demon

if 'this person' ever found out about this they would kill both of us (literally)

oh no i'm dating the town serial killer

passionate professor tells me to prove my devotion to the craft / class by doing something insane

we're the last people on the planet and you will be mine

daydreaming about being with you is better than actually being with you because i missed all the red flags and now it's too late

i got casted out of my world and ended up wounded and bloodied in your backyard, convince me why i shouldn't destroy your world out of anger

vampire has a taste for specific blood and looks like you have it

the creepy neighbor is too hot to be insane, right?

i keep seeing them in my dreams and i wake up with bruises and marks on my skin, it's definitely just wild dreams, right?

loving you is easier than hating you

got stranded in some little town that seems so cute, until night hits

'this person' ordered me to kill you but i actually think i'm in love with you

my lover is wearing the same costume as you and i can't tell the difference but i'm pretty sure it's them i'm fucking in this closet...pretty sure

confessing to a murder via a silly little ghost story around a campfire (but someone reads through the lies)

how far would you go for love? for the one you love?

in a past life you were the cause of my death so i'm here to exact revenge now that i've found you

we're at a fun little horror movie reenactment except people are really dying

we tried to make this writing challenge as fun and very 'choose your own adventure-like' as much as possible because we know how hard it is to stay motivated when doing these things.

so please feel free to use any and all of the prompts, tropes, kinks, etc as you wish. we're just super excited to see what ya'll come up with!!

so good luck and stay slutty spooky <3

#if yall don't participate in this i will actually cry lmao #haunted hoedown #writing challenge #kinktober #! challenges

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notmusa · 4 months

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had a scary dream last night abt inheriting an old abandoned mansion & getting involved in cult activity/a family curse/murders/town secrets/hidden rooms/horror/etc. scary! awful!! but when the plot of the dream was over i spent the rest of the night lucid dreaming about the history of the mansion & previous owners, interior design & layout, the property it was on, the main & minor characters of the town, etc.

a lot of the history of the mansion was people would only live in it for a short time (bc it was so spooky & cursed) then theyd either sell it for super cheap or abandon it, & then the next people would move in. the previous owner of the house gave it to me specifically & then mysteriously disappeared... turns out i was distantly related to a previous owner decades ago (maybe the original owners?) who had it in the family for a few generations before abandoning it.

it was closely tied with a decrepit old local library with a sealed basement and a secret "aurora room" that could only be accessed by the cult/local town government. there were so many rumors. i decided the town was a hotspot for alien activity in the 1950s. the mansion has a small graveyard somewhere in the dense forest area on its large property. the graveyard was small but at the same time alarmingly big for a private residence?? u know?? there are rumors of a husband drowning his wife in the small pond in the 1880s.

there was a room in the mansion i couldn't get into because i didn't have the key. i discovered a room that had been wallpapered over many decades ago that had a suspicious stain on the floor. the same man had been tending to the property since before its last period of abandonment & he kept coming to maintain the landscape and i dont know who was paying him.... etc etc etc fun stuff

i had to get that all written down before i forgot everything lmao thanks for reading

#dream stuff #there was at least one spiral staircase #the bricked in library basement had been part of a bizarre monkey breeding project in the 80s #it was a red herring that had nothing to do with the rest of the plot lmao #that part was weird

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lipglossanon · 7 months

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Haunted House

Corrupt Cop!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader - NSFW

Warnings: mean/condescending Leon, Leon being spooky lol, ghost story involving child murder, dirty talk, spitting, oral (m receiving)

not proofread ✌️

“I dare you to go in there.”

Leon raises an eyebrow, “Okay, and what do I get when I do?”

You bite your lip and he zeroes in on the action, “What do you want?”

“To eat your cunt in the back of my squad car.”

Nipples stiffening in your bra, you gasp scandalized, “Leon!”

He shrugs easily, “You asked.”

“I don’t want to get caught,” you murmur quietly.

“I’m a cop,” he laughs, “you won’t get in trouble.”

“You’re not scared?” You try changing subjects back to the dare.

He rolls his eyes, “Why? Just because some kids disappeared around this place back in the 20’s?”

You nod, “Yeah, I mean it’s still pretty spooky.”

A wide grins splits his face making you nervous.

“Let’s sneak in right now.”

Leon drags you into the local haunted house before you can even blink. There’s a makeshift doorway on the side that draws you up short making Leon’s grip around your bicep tighten.

“I bust kids partying here all the time, nothing to worry about,” he pulls you along, shoving you into the doorway first.

It doesn’t look as rundown as you thought it would, just beat up old furniture and dusty rugs lining the floor. The plaster walls are cracked and worn, covered in graffitied cuss words and dicks. Leon guides you past this room further into the house.

Teenagers or whoever must not venture past that opening room because these walls are bare save for the peeling wallpaper. Time worn photographs hang at odd angles but are too weather worn to see properly. Cobwebs coat every surface making your skin crawl.

“Leon, let’s just turn back,” your voice comes out quiet, spooked by your surroundings, “we’ve went far enough for the dare.”

He clicks his tongue tossing you a wicked grin over his shoulder, “Don’t you wanna have some fun, sweetheart?”

He pulls you into another room, this one suspiciously less dusty than the rest of the house with a clean looking fainting couch sitting atop a Persian rug.

“Leon this is…”

Weird? Off putting? Uncomfortable?

Something about the space is making your hair stand on end unlike the other more overt creepy part of the house.

He chuckles low in his throat and pushes you down onto the couch.

“Surprise,” he gestures around the room, but your eyes never leave his face.

“I don’t understand.”

“This is where they went missing,” his dark blue eyes sweep around the room one last time before meeting your gaze.

“I did some digging and come to find out, the nanny this family hired went a little nuts,” he laughs gleefully, “seems like she fucked the owner and when he wouldn’t leave his wife, she,” he makes a slicing motion across his neck, “decided to take care of the children permanently.”

You gasp softly, eyes wide as Leon only laughs harder.

“What’s fucked is she told him but he didn’t believe her, just fired her on the spot,” he sighs, smiling a little too wide for his face, “she stayed in town and married some other poor schmuck.“

You clear your throat nervously, “How do you know—“

“Oh, she’s like my great, great, great aunt,” he waves his hand like it’s inconsequential information, “that’s beside the point. The point being is she killed them in this. very. room.”

You lick your lips and take a quick glance around; aside from it being cleaner than the other parts you walked through, it’s pretty nondescript overall.

“And they say,” Leon’s deep voice murmurs in your ear making you jump, “you can still hear them crying if you show up at the right time.”

He grabs your forearms and pushes you down onto the rug.

“And since we have a couple of hours to go til then, why don’t I keep that pretty little mouth busy,” he tilts his head, sandy fringe covering one eye, “sound good?”

And now, you’re not even sure why you let it happen, but you’re on your knees with Leon’s thick uncut cock dripping over your face. Even though you’re angry at yourself, you can’t help but feel turned on in the situation. Clit throbbing with need, you loll your tongue out, holding your mouth open for Leon.

“Such a good girl,” he croons, “so eager to please.”

A bolt of heat pulses in your cunt. His hand cradles your jaw gently before he spits onto your tongue making you whine, nipples tightening to aching points in your bra. He slaps his cock down onto your tongue, smearing his spit and precum all around the wet muscle.

“You’re gonna give me some sloppy head, baby,” he grins meanly down at you, “and if you’re good, I’ll let you swallow.”

Eyes fluttering, slick fills the gusset of your panties, making the cute lace stick to your pussy lips; you press the dough of your thighs together hoping to alleviate the pressure in your core.

“Mmm so slutty just letting me fuck your mouth like this,” he goads with a smirk, dick sinking into your open mouth, “bet I could get you on your knees anywhere.”

Your eyes water as his thick cock obscenely stretches your mouth open.

His hips thrust forward, sinking another inch into your hot wet mouth.

“Such a pretty little throat,” he murmurs to himself, letting his hand squeeze around your neck.

You whine as your thighs clench together, more slick pooling in your already drenched panties.

His hand shifts to the back of your head, rocking your mouth further down on his dick, fat tip kissing the back of your throat and making you gag. He presses there until you cough and retch around the tip, making him slip his cock free. You cough slightly, breaking the stringy lines of spit connecting his thick length to your lips.

“Aww too much?” he coos mockingly, “don’t worry, we’ll train this slutty throat til it can take me nice and deep.”

Your cunt aches as he slaps his cock across your face, smearing spit and precum everywhere before slowly easing it back into your drooling mouth. He pulls out until you’re suckling on the fat head of his dick before sinking back into you, balls slapping your chin.

“M’gonna give you a nice throatpie, sweetheart,” he grunts, hand moving to the top of your head to guide himself deeper.

You swallow around his dick, saliva dripping from the corners of your lips while Leon’s fat, heavy cock ruts in and out of your mouth. Hands grasping at your leggings, you move them to brace on his legs and let your mouth sink down on his cock even more, tip knocking into your throat making you gag.

He pulls you off and takes a seat on the couch, patting his leg, “Crawl over here and suck me off, pretty girl.”

A full body shudder runs through you, pussy feeling like a wet mess between your legs as you crawl the few feet over to him.

“Good girl,” the praise drips like honey from his lips, “being so good for me, tonight.”

With a mewling sigh, you eagerly wrap your mouth around Leon’s dick and sink down.

“Gonna keep my dick warm for a while,” he pets your head, rocking his cock into your mouth, “if you try to suck, I’m gonna spank that soaked little cunt.”

Moaning, you go slack against him, letting Leon nestle his dick deep into your mouth, leaking tip bumping against the opening to your throat. You constantly swallow to prevent yourself from gagging but it only seems to make more precum dribble from his cockhead.

He murmurs condescending praise making your brain mushy and cunt leak until you’ve soaked through to create a wet spot in the front of your leggings. It doesn’t seem like long at all before he’s slowly pulling out of your mouth with a groan. You whimper and chase after his cock, mouth kissing and licking at his spit coated shaft making him laugh down at you.

“So needy,” he grasps your jaw and fucks his cock back into your swollen mouth, “think it’s time I give you your reward. Ready to drink all my cum? Cream that throat like you deserve.”

He thrusts half a dozen times before burying his cock into your mouth with a low groan, spilling down your throat. You feel dizzy as hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat before you’re swallowing it down, greedily sucking his cock.

“Good fucking girl,” he humps against your drooling mouth, “drink every drop.”

You milk Leon’s cock until he’s spent, pulling his softening dick away from your mouth as you press a soft kiss to the head. He glances down at his watch before pulling you up onto the couch with him.

Your brain feels empty, cunt needy for stimulation as Leon kisses your cheek and teases across the inside seam of your leggings.

“When we get to the car, gonna make good on my promise, sweetheart,” he nips your earlobe, “gonna eat you out til you’re crying.”

You arch against him with a whine, “Please, can we go now?”

He hums shooting another glance to his watch, “I guess so, not like it’s real anyways.”

Brain too muddled to argue with him, you squirm as Leon pulls you up from the couch. Neither of you notice the two pairs of luminescent eyes watching you from the corner as you leave the room.

divider: @firefly-graphics

#lipglossanon #lipglossanonmasterlist #lipglossmasterlist #lipglossanon promptober 2023 #promptober 2023 #promptober 2023 day 13 #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy smut #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #haunted house

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asumofwords · 7 months

Note

So I see you’re going to open up requests soon??? 👀

Lemme just put this one there to marinate because some of the asks have really put the thought in my head with no sign of it leaving me be.

Spooky season is coming!!!!

I rewatch the Haunting series on Netflix every October so I’m kinda feeling a Bly Manor type possession fic. SFA one shot or not, but Aemond’s dead and they were definitely in love. When reader moves on after his death and eventually meets someone she can fall in love with again, maybe she brings him home and Aemond possesses her new man just so he can fuck her again. Bonus points if she doesn’t know the first few times but keeps wondering how her new boo knows exactly what she likes before Aemond finally reveals himself and ultimately, she lets it continue because she gets her Aemond again.

Just some thots

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: Death, murder, sadness, depression, thoughts of suicide, talks of blood and gore, moving on, haunted estate, possession, fear, anger, smut, chasing, blood, choking, slapping, fucking, creampie, degradation, rough sex, angry sex, dub-con, slight non-con, confusion, grief, Cregan being possessed by your late husband, spooky vibes.

Pairings: Ghost!Aemond x Reader / Aemond Targaryen Possession Fic, Cregan Stark x Reader, Possessed!Cregan x reader

Notes: Look.... I'm such a Cregan Stark slut, I'm gonna throw him in wherever I can... Hope you enjoy!!!! Hehehe, I hope I have done your request some justice!!! I really enjoyed writing this <3

Aemond Targaryen was a man that could not be summarised by mere words. You didn’t believe that you could ever find enough of them to describe him, if any could come close to it. He was kind, quiet at times, calculating, but passionate. And that was why you had married him. His passion for you was so strong it almost burnt, the flames of it constantly flickering over you like fire.

You had been married for some time, meeting at University, Advanced History and the Politics of Old, and instantly falling for the quiet man who had sat up the back, hand constantly writing notes on paper. He had this charm that surrounded him, and the day you had gotten the courage to ask him out, pacing in front of your mirror all morning, practising the words over and over in your head and aloud, he beat you to it, seemingly having done the same thing.

You were married a year later, a quick turn around, but happy with bliss and the love that you had for each other. Years flew by together and eventually you began to plan for a child, and Aemond in his excitement, invited his family over to announce this to them. His mother, unbeknownst to him, invited his half-sister Rhaenyra, her children, and her husband, Daemon; A man Aemond had once admired, but now despised.

And because of this, tragedy struck.

At first the evening went well, but with the presence of his nephew, Lucerys, the boy who had taken his eye in an accident at a young age, Aemond’s anger simmered that night between him and his uncle, Daemon, and with the alcohol that flowed heavily from the table during your celebrations, a fight broke loose.

You could still see it. Still see it move behind your eyelids like a film, slow motion, then quick, then slow again.

Aemond’s fist flying into Daemon’s cheek, a man much taller and broader than your husband. You had shot up from your chair to reach them, but Alicent had held you back whilst Rhaenyra tried to pull her husband away from her half-brother, who Daemon knelt over, fist after fist striking the younger mans face. You had screamed when Daemon was finally pulled up and away by his angry wife, concern thrown down to her estranged sibling, her violet eyes roaming him for injury.

But your Aemond, your sweet, sweet Aemond, head strong and stubborn as he was, didn’t know when to stop, and so, jumping up from the ground, face bloodied and lips bleeding, Aemond’s hand had snatched a steak knife from the table, charging for Daemon, who pushed Rhaenyra out of the way.

The next thing you knew, Aemond lay lifeless on the floor, knife in his unseeing eye, blood pooling on the floor around him. You had screamed and ran to him, sobbing over his corpse as Daemon stood in shock, looking at his now bloodied hand whilst Alicent blinked down at her son.

Daemon went to jail, a short term for murdering your husband, self defence they had said, since Aemond made the first move and grabbed the knife. And whilst Daemon sat in a cell, visited by his children and wife, you were left alone in the large estate that you had together, bereft with grief and uncertain if life would ever move on without him.

You had thought about it, once or twice, grabbing a razor or taking one too many of the pills the doctors had prescribed for your debilitating depression, or perhaps reaching beneath the sink to grasp at Aemond’s old pain medication and taking the entire lot. But each time you thought of it, you just couldn’t do it. Too cowardly to go forward with it, which almost always ended with you on the floor where he had died, sobbing into the flagstones.

It had been five years when you met him, five years when you decided to get back out into the world. Or not really decided, more like forced to by Helaena, Aemond’s older sister, who had been your life boat through grieving the loss of her brother. She had told you that Jacaerys, her nephew she had no qualms with despite the family tension, had a friend that you would get along with. Someone kind and gentle, and so far away from being anything like Aemond, that it was a safe bet.

And so one night of a blind date with Cregan Stark, Helaena and her girlfriend Cassandra joining as a buffer, turned into two, which then turned to three, then four, until soon enough, you were falling for the man.

He was courteous. Tall and broad, with long, dark hair and a short beard, or more like stubble that had been left untouched for days on end. He had kind grey eyes, that looked like a winters storm that swirled each time he gazed at you.

And he was different. That’s what you likened as to why you liked him.

He was the complete opposite of Aemond.

Where Aemond was fiery and warm, Cregan was cool and patient, always waiting for you to make the first step. Whenever you would fight, if at all you would manage to get him to react, it would always end with him apologising to you.

Even when you were in the wrong.

That was one thing you hated about it.

He would never rise to your goading, never rise to the bait you would set for him to flare his temper. Sure, he would get angry, his wild grey eyes alight with something, but it would pass as soon as a storm, and he would leave to walk it out, or ask for space.

You missed how it had been with Aemond. How you could goad him into anger, to have him fold you over any surface and have his way with you, rutting into you violently and cruelly, as he ripped peak, after peak from you, until you begged for mercy, tears falling down your cheeks.

But Cregan was different, softer, sweeter, and not at all like your hot headed late husband.

And this, you were thankful for.

In some ways at least.

It had been over a year of dating when you finally asked him to move into the estate with you. He lived awhile away, and you were alone in a house that had close to a hundred rooms and only memories to haunt you. It only felt right to fill it up with one more person.

The estate was old, and although Aemond had died within its walls, you just couldn’t leave it.

You were stuck.

Feeling drawn to its stones and halls, and even the mere thought of parting with it made you breathless.

Though, there was something about the old estate that made your skin crawl.

It had always made you uncomfortable, and it was something that you had voiced to Aemond upon many a times, and he would always assure you, that they could not touch you, whoever they were.

But something was different.

Something had changed in the years past since Aemond had died.

Helaena had once come to the estate, months after the fact, and gone pale, looked right past you as though she was looking at someone there. But when you had turned, there was no-one. Not a soul, or wisp, or a particle. Just air.

But it was cold. And Helaena had told you, whilst staring behind, that Aemond would always be with you.

But you knew he would. You had his memories, his photos, his clothes that you had folded in trunks in the attic, or the blanket that still smelt very much like him that you would curl into on lonely nights and breathe in his scent.

Of course he would always be with you.

He was your first love.

But there was something about the estate.

You just didn’t know what.

It didn’t help that no matter what you did, you felt like you were being watched. But the building was as old as the hills, and your therapist had told you it was likely just your hyper observance and PTSD to blame.

There were no ghosts in the house, no ghouls or monsters. It was just you.

You and the empty walls, and halls that used to house his voice, and his smile, and his laughter.

You were lonely, that much was sure, and although you loved Cregan, you truly did, it would just never match the love you and Aemond had. Not that you were comparing the two to each other in that way. Aemond was fire, Cregan was ice. They were both two very different people who loved in two very different ways. And you knew, much to your grief, that it was time to move on.

Time to move forward with your life.

And so you did. With Cregan. And that feeling of being watched only amplified. The feeling of heat on the back of you neck, being watched wherever you went, multiplying by tenfold with Cregan’s now permanent presence.

The rooms would suddenly get cold, to the point that he had even noted it, but had explained it away; His home back in Winterfell was older than this estate, and it too had cold spots in it.

It didn’t mean anything, it was just the old buildings, with old drafts, and terrible old insulation.

But something felt off since he moved in.

You always felt like you were being watched but it had changed to something more angry. Like something was always in the corner of your eye when with him, especially when intimate. But Cregan, with this kind eyes and unbendable patience, listened to your worries, and ensured you that it was fine, and even if there was an entity in the estate, it could not touch you, nor harm you, and probably didn’t even know you were there, lost in a world of its own.

Yet, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of it. Maybe it was because you were moving on, and feeling guilty about doing so.

You didn’t move into your old room that had been yours and Aemond’s. That was off limits. Closed for good, unless you wished to go in there and sit for a while. It had been over six years, six long years without him, but maybe, just maybe, Aemond would want you to move on.

Yes, you were sure of it.

He would want you to be happy, to move on. Not forget about him, but to continue on with your life without him, despite the feeling that your life had stopped with him the day he was killed.

You still had night terrors about it, picturing his body on the floor, lifeless and cold, blood pooled beneath his head, seeing eye staring up unfocused.

The terrors had gotten worse when Cregan had moved in. You would wake with a scream, and the vision and smell of blood before you, body covered in a light sheen of sweat, and the feeling as though something, or someone, had be pushing down on your chest. And each time, Cregan would be there for you, to ground you, to bring you back to the present and hold you as you sobbed in his arms, and eventually went back to sleep, skin tingling with the feeling of an extra eye on you.

But Cregan made you feel safe.

There were many things about Cregan that you adored. His loyalty to his friends and family, his smile when excited or pleased, the way he would hold you tightly against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin as you inhaled deeply.

And to top it all off, he was an amazing lover.

Sleeping with Cregan was different to what it had been like with Aemond. He was gentler, softer, less rough and violent. Which was something you actually missed. When once you had asked Cregan to wrap his large hands around your throat, he had blushed and looked away, saying he needed time to work his way up to that. And so you dropped it, and respected that boundary.

It wasn’t that the sex wasn’t good, it was. Cregan knew how to bring you to your peak with practised skill. It was just that it wasn’t what you needed. You needed a release. A cathartic bloom of pleasurable pain, submission and dominance, to not be in control, to let someone take the reins and bring you to a warm and fuzzy place that Aemond called ‘Sub Space’. You needed to feel the ache of being roughly handled, to see the bruises of Cregan’s love on your skin the next day or week after, but he was almost afraid of hurting you.

Gods bless that sweet man.

Footsteps clumped from down the hall as the tv softly played the previews of a new show on Netflix. You leant back against the couch, tucked under a thick blanket as you watched Cregan enter the lounge room with two bowls in hand.

“What are we watching?” His deep voice curled around the room, eyes darting to the tv as you scrolled down, trying to find something the two of you could watch.

“I don’t know.” You flicked to the Recommended For You section, the couch dipping beside you as he sat, placing the steaming bowls of pasta in front of you, “Thanks.” You pecked his cheek lightly, before looking back at the screen.

“What are our options?” His fork clinked on the edge of his bowl as he twirled the long pasta up his fork, shoving it into his mouth beside you.

“Pride and Prejudice-“

“-2005 or BBC?” Cregan interrupted.

“2005 obviously.” You smirked, turning back to the tv, “Jurassic Park, Knives Out,” You flicked through the recommendation list, hearing a snicker beside you as you moved past 365 Days, “Gone Girl-“

“Gone Girl? What’s that?” Cregan asked between chews, large hand reaching to place your own bowl into your lap.

You grinned, “Only one of the best movies ever. Have you really not seen it?” You turned to face him, watching as he shook his head. “Gone Girl it is.”

The movie began to play as you settled in at his side, eating the dinner he had made you both. Cregan was engrossed in the film, and made you laugh as he screamed profanity at the tv, already hating Ben Affleck's character thinking he had killed his wife.

Towards the end of the movie however, Cregan was cheering Amy on, getting excited as it went through her step by step revenge plan. You were almost at the crescendo of the film when you felt Cregan shift beside you, his audible stream of consciousness suddenly stopped.

You turned your head to look at him.

The large man was sitting stiff as a board beside you, grey eyes narrowed onto your face. It was as if all emotions had slid away, leaving a cool exterior. You frowned, turning your body to face him completely, watching as his eyes slid carefully over your body.

“Are you okay?” You asked, wondering what had changed his mood so suddenly.

Cregan’s eyes blinked slowly, lids half hooded as he peered at you.

There was something about it that was familiar.

Something about it that sent a shiver down your spine.

And as if it didn’t happen, Cregan blinked again, shaking his head slightly, large hand coming to press at an eye as though in pain.

Your hand reached out to rest on his shoulder, “Hey, are you okay?” Concern written on your features.

Brows furrowed, he winced, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye, “Sorry.” He apologised through gritted teeth, “Migraine came out of nowhere.”

Sympathy rolled through you. Standing from the couch you clicked your tongue, “That’s no good. Let me get you some pain killers.”

Your bare feet pressed into the cold flagstones as you headed to the large kitchen, bending at the waist to rifle in the small medicine box under the sink.

The box was old, something left over from Aemond, with the painkillers still inside that he used for whenever his eye and scar was giving him bother. You spotted the small silver packet of pain killers beside Aemond’s old ones, out of date and not useful to anyone, and yet you still could never bring yourself to get rid of them, as though your brain worried that they would be needed out of habit despite him no longer being there anymore.

Bypassing your late husbands medication, you pulled at the small packet of regular painkillers and made your way back to the lounge room, worrying over Cregan’s sudden pain.

He never usually had migraines or headaches, but it had become something more frequent since he moved in. His doctor had said it could be allergies, or perhaps even the presence of black mould in the old estate, but you had hired mould cleaners, and even mould detecters who brought in an old dog to sniff about the property, and they, not once, found any sign of damp or growing fungus.

Entering the lounge you spotted Cregan, sitting stiff backed on the couch, head immediately flicking to you.

“I got you some pain killers,” You walked towards him, popping two little pills out of the foil packet, “Is it bad?”

Cregan’s lips twitched slightly as he watched you, eyes narrowed, and yet he did not answer.

Must be bad if he’s not talking.

“Here.” You held your hand out, waiting to place the two painkillers into his palm.

Cregan Stark watched you with hawklike eyes, not taking the pills from you. Suddenly he stood, large frame towering over you as he looked down his nose at you, face devoid of any emotion, and a certain strike of familiarity sparked inside your mind.

Why does this feel familiar?

A large hand struck out, grabbing you neck roughly, squeak falling from your lips as you were tugged towards Cregan, his lips finding yours in a rough and bruising kiss, his straight teeth nipping at your bottom lip roughly, tingles climbing up your spine. He kissed you until you were out of breath, hand not releasing itself from your neck, keeping you firmly to him until you parted bare centimetres away to catch your breath, lips brushing against each other as you heaved.

“What's gotten into you?” You breathed heavily, want coursing through you.

The pink of his tongue darted out to wet his lips, though moving slower as though he was savouring the taste of you on him, “I’ve missed this.” Came a deep purr from within his chest.

A smirk pulled at your mouth, “You had me last night.” You teased, nibbling at your bottom lip, wondering where this sudden burst of lust had come from.

Cregan merely grunted as he crashes his lips back against yours, fingers tightening around your throat in a way that you had begged him to do for months, cutting the supply of blood flow making your head spin. You mewled as he broke the kiss, spinning you around to push you over the edge of the couch arm.

Air was ripped from your lungs as he pushed his weight onto your lower back with his hand, fingers ripping at your clothes to reveal your slick folds to the room.

There was no preparation, no warning, just the sudden and sharp bite of his length pushing into your walls. You cried out, hands grasping at the pillows as he set a rough pace, his length dragging in and out of you sharply as he grunted from behind.

Cregan’s weight pushed into your spine as he continues to rut into you wildly, feet dangling uselessly as he fucking you over the arm of the couch, hands gripping the pillows tightly in your hands. It was the first time he had ever fucked you with such vigour, without care, and it set your nerves alight.

You whined beneath him, feeling closer and closer to your peak, slick coating your thighs and his length, the wet sound of flesh against flesh behind you.

“Always such a good little slut for me.” Cregan growled, and the sound sent tremors through you.

Your brows furrowed, a nagging sensation in the back of your mind telling you that something was not quite right. That Cregan would never call you that, had never called you that, and that it was something that Ae-

Blinding white pleasure burst through you as you came, Cregan moaning behind you as he felt your walls tighten around his length. You whined beneath him, body going slack as he sought out his own peak, rutting into you frantically until he came with a grunt, warmth filling your walls.

You slumped against the couch, mind hazy as your climax scrambled all thoughts. A kiss was pressed against your shoulder blade and a small hiss came from behind as your boyfriend pulled out of your core. Too tired to move, and the man clearly sensing that, you were scooped up into two large arms and carried off to your bedroom.

The rest of the evening a blur of being cleaned, given water to drink, and then the soft sheets and warmth of a body pressed up against you in bed, large hand stroking over your hair lovingly as you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke the next morning, it was to a grunt of pain and not pleasure. Cregan was laid on his back, hand once again pressed into his eye as his brows furrowed, desperate to alleviate the pain that settled behind it.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, turning to face him, watching as he tried to compose himself, a soft wince pulling at his features.

“Migraine again.” Cregan whispered into the early morning air.

Your hand out of habit, moved to soothe the hair at the top of his head on the side of the eye pain, in a way that was purely instinctual, in a way that you had for many years with Aemond whenever he would wake in pain, or lay in silence, biting roughly at his own lips to try and get through it alone.

Pressing a kiss to the side of Cregan’s face you crawled out of bed, “You didn’t take the painkillers last night that’s why. I’ll go get you some more.”

You had brought him the painkillers and forced him to take them with a whole glass of water, before settling back into the covers with him, soothing his long brown hair away from his face as the pain slowly dissipated away from his features.

The next week, it happened again.

The headache.

The cool half lidded gaze.

The sudden change in demeanour.

The things that he did and said reminded you so much of Aemond, that you felt immediate guilt for thinking of your late husband whilst in the throws of a rough fuck with your new boyfriend. But this time you took the reins, and told him to slow down, told him that you wanted it softer, more loving, more him.

“Sl-slow down.” You pleaded from below, thighs pressed against your chest as Cregan pushed his whole length inside of you, tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.

His eyes narrowed on you as he grunted, fucking into you harder instead, “No.” He growled, and a small spark of fear sparked up your spine.

Tears welled in your eyes as you pushed at his chest, “S-stop. Cregan, stop.” Your nails dug into his chest as you tried to push him off of you, yet his pace didn’t falter.

Your brain in its confusion pushed out a word you hadn’t used in years, a word that was reserved for you and Aemond only, a word that was to be used if you wanted all things to end.

“Perzys.”

Fire.

Cregan immediately stopped, eyes blinking suddenly as he looked down at you in a moment of confusion, and then concern. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked at him, your own confusion and sorrow swirling inside of you.

How did he-

“What’s wrong?”

A tear slid down your cheek as you felt him looking over you, blinking again as though trying to rise from a fog, and yet he had stopped. He stopped with a word that he shouldn’t have even known.

Or maybe you had told him. Maybe you had, a long time ago? Maybe he was confused by your sudden use of the foreign word? Maybe-

“You’re scaring me.” Your words came out breathlessly, all desire having leaked from your body and replaced with a myriad of others.

Guilt.

Fear.

Confusion.

Grief.

It was too real.

It was too familiar.

It was-

“I thought this was what you wanted, ñuha-“ Cregan’s hand flew to his eye, pressing into it roughly as he gasped out in pain.

You scrambled to sit up, pulling his length from inside of you as you held onto his face, soothing his hair away, fear replaced with worry.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You asked in concern, watching as Cregan’s teeth ground down on each other, low grunt of agony passing through his clenched teeth.

“Let me see.” You begged, mind going into autopilot as you gently grasped his wrist, pulling his hand away from his eye as he blinked down at you in surprise for a moment, a multitude of emotions flashing across his face before his hand rose, and then his face crumpled once again, and the heel of his hand pushed back into his eye.

You sprung into action, body already taking you immediately to get painkillers for him, hand reaching for the little yellow pill container before having to grab the others.

Eventually you got him to settle into bed, begging him to see a doctor, before the two of you finally agreed to see one later that week.

And what an uneventful doctors visit that was.

Two MRI’s, CT scans, and blood tests later, the doctor gave him the all clear. No growths to be seen, or unusual brain activity, not even a simple vitamin deficiency; Cregan was the pinnacle of health. The Stark came out of the doctors office with reassurance that there was no malignant growth or anything to be worried about, but a warning that perhaps stress was the causation for his sudden pains. He was given instructions to rest, and so Cregan took sick leave for the rest of the month.

Two weeks into Cregan’s rest, and the both of you were pleased to find that Cregan didn’t have another migraine attack. Nor did his demeanour suddenly change like the last time, much to your relief.

Winter had begun to roll into the realm, and the estate, being as old as it was, became far colder at times, inside than out. The fires were constantly lit to keep you both warm, and it made for a rather romantic setting for the two of you.

That morning you had gone out to get a nice bottle of wine to bring home. You were going to surprise Cregan with a home cooked meal, a nice bottle of red, and then after, if you were both feeling inclined, which you knew you would be, a slow and gentle fuck in front of the fireplace.

You had gone out of your way to avoid him that day, going to the shops to buy ingredients, prepping the dinner as quietly and quickly as you could, lighting candles in the casual lounge room for the two of you, and placing some fluffed pillows before the hearth to lounge in.

It was perfect.

Your dinner was cooked, and you were ready for the evening and with good timing. You heard Cregan walking through the hall as you put his bowl next to yours on the coffee table, placing the nice bottle of wine in the centre as you brushed down the sides of your dress and made sure your hair was perfect.

The dress you wore was tight and black, and although you had thought of wearing heels, there was no need to in your own home, so you went bare foot. Beneath your dress lay a lacy surprise. You waited to see Cregan enter the room, to see his smiling eyes and warm grin at you, but he kept on. Walking straight past the lounge, his footsteps disappearing down the vast hall.

You stood in confusion for a moment.

Maybe he was going to the bathroom.

Maybe he didn’t know you were there or that you had cooked dinner.

But he would have smelt it.

And he would have known.

You waited for a while longer, hoping he was making his way back, but when he didn’t, you began to grow impatient, leaving your steaming dinner behind to go in search for him. In that moment you cursed the vastness of the estate, but knew that Cregan wasn't really one to explore it. He kept to what he knew, and so you went to those spaces.

He wasn’t in your shared room.

Or the dining hall.

Or one of the many bathrooms.

Nor was he in the kitchen.

The estate was cold, and dark, and the coolness of the home creeped up your bare feet and into your spine, sending shivers running down it. You called out his name, hoping he would come to you so that you would eat.

But no response came.

It wasn’t until you were climbing the stairs back to your bedroom that you noticed a light on in a distant room.

A room far down the end of the east wing. A room in which Cregan knew he wasn’t allowed inside. A room in which you had not been inside of for a long, long time.

A pang of hurt and anger rose inside of you as you went towards it, feet slapping against the stones as you got closer and closer, unready and unwilling to be reasonable for such a boundary being crossed.

This was not what you had planned for the evening.

The hallway became shorter, as you got closer, and the air in the hall changed. It became colder. Sharper. More charged. And the anger that you had within you, slowly began to crackle as you came to a stop, spotting Cregan standing in Aemond’s study, his large back to you.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, hurt rising within as he stood in front of Aemond’s old desk.

There was the smallest of whispers of something not being right that began to grow in the back of your mind.

But Cregan did not answer you, nor did he turn to look at you when he would have no doubt heard you enter.

The room opened a wound you thought had been closed.

And Cregan had done that.

You stepped towards him again, no answer still from his lips.

You thought he was better than this.

You thought that he respected this boundary.

What did he want from coming into this room?

Why would he be in here?

You looked at his posture.

Bone straight.

His large hands clenching and unclenching at his side as his head stayed straight on.

Something wasn’t right.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” You told him, voice wary as you stopped yourself mere feet away from him.

Again, no answer.

Did something happen?

Was this a test?

“Cregan?”

And then you heard it.

A low chuckle.

A sound that in your years of dating Cregan, you had not heard once.

And in your years of his absence, you had missed.

It was a chuckle that sent ice running down your spine.

And yet, your feet took you forward anyway.

“Cregan?” You asked again, wariness in your voice as you tried to peer around his side and look at his face.

Was this a dream?

A nightmare?

A hum. All that came from his chest, was a deep and oh too familiar hum.

“Hm.”

Your spine stiffened, and it felt as though the air in the room turned to ice, goosebumps rising on your skin.

“This isn’t funny, Cregan. Get out.” One last attempt of courage, one last attempt of standing your ground, or at least your first attempt, which came and flew and crashed to the ground in flames.

Cregan finally shifted, turning to face you, and although it was the face of your boyfriend, it was the mannerisms of your late husband which caused you to gasp out in fear. On Cregan’s soft lips, was the sharp pull of a smirk that Aemond almost always reserved for you.

“I’ve missed you zaldrītsos.” Little dragon.

Horror flooded you.

“Cregan.” You warned in clenched teeth, afraid that if they were open, they’d chatter, “This isn’t funny.”

Growling, a tear fell down your cheek, your hands clenched into fists as you looked at him.

He had no right to be in this room.

He had no right to call you that name.

To act as he did.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Another smirk, and a step towards you, “Cregan is indisposed.”

Another tear fell down your cheek as you took a step backwards and away, watching as his eyes roamed down your body, “Cut it out, Creg. I’m serious.”

Brown hair cascaded over his shoulder as he tilted his head at you, clicking his tongue, “Oh, I'm deathly serious.” Came his purr-like response.

Your heart raced against your ribcage, blood rushing into your ears as you stared at him in shock and fear.

This-

It couldn’t-

It wasn’t-

“Aemond?” You breathed.

And it was the smile that did it for you. The smile you had prayed and hoped and dreamed to see every day for the years without it, yet now, seeing it up close on the face of your boyfriend scared the living wits from you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted lightly on his feet, not at all in the clunky manner that Cregan would have, but it in a smooth, calculated way that was every movement Aemond would make, “Have you missed me?”

You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t speak, even if you dared to.

It must be a dream.

A cruel dream.

A nightmare in which you would wake from soon.

But it felt too real.

It felt too sure.

He was here.

There, right in front of you. But it wasn’t him.

It wasn’t his body, his face, his voice.

But it was him.

He took another step towards you, and your stumbled backwards, mouth agape as you looked at him, the shadows of the dark lit room falling across his face.

And then there it was.

That Cheshire Cat smile.

“Run."

Your feet bound on the flagstones as you fled in terror, racing down the stairs to try and escape, to leave the estate, to get to your car and go, or your phone, or anywhere that wasn’t near him. To get away from him. It wasn’t him.

It wasn’t him.

It was.

It was him.

Air struggled to get into your lungs as you ran as fast as you could, hands catching themselves on the stone walls, nails biting into them as you caught yourself taking sharp corners, the dark halls and stairways causing your heart to race faster, feeling as though they were closing in on you.

You didn’t dare look back.

You knew he was there.

You knew he was chasing you.

Something you had done together for fun, for pleasure, but now, you were struck with terror.

But there it was, sweet salvation.

The floor crashed up towards you as you landed heavily on your knees, tripping on the last step, not wasting anytime to check for injury nor even feel the blood that dripped down your legs, knees skinned from landing on the ancient stone floors.

But there it was.

The main hall.

And there at the end, your way out.

Your escape.

The front doors of the estate.

You raced for it, heart in your throat, air barely in your lungs as they screamed for a reprieve, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you got closer and closer, fear still crawling up your throat, threatening to break through as a scream.

And scream you did as your body was hauled off of your feet and into the air by a pair of large arms, wrapped around your centre. You kicked and clawed as you tried to get away from him, mind racing a million miles an hour, unsure of what was happening, and if it was even possible, but desperate to get away.

Not a sound, nor a jeer, nor a tease came from the man behind you. Not even a word to reassure you that this was a game, that it was Cregan, that you were safe, that this was just a long planned part of a fantasy you had expressed you wanted and he had denied.

There was no reassurance.

There was no check in.

Because it wasn’t Cregan.

It was Aemond.

And as he hauled you back down the hall and up the stairs, kicking and screaming, back to his study, tears falling from your cheeks, you knew that it was him. You knew that it had been the slightest glimmers of him in Cregan the past month. Those migraines were more, those changes were more, and you had ignored them.

Your hips collided with the desk of Aemond's study as he threw you into it, hands desperate to catch your fall, spreading across the desk knocking over items that had not been touched nor moved for years.

“I’ve had to watch him fuck you, every night.” He growled from behind, as you tried to push yourself up, his body caging you into his desk. There was a flicker of familiarity of the times you had once found yourself in a similar predicament.

“I’ve had to hear your moans and whines, knowing they were for someone else.” He said angrily, pulling at your dress, ripping it upwards as you tried to pull it back down, hands clawing backwards at his arms.

“You’re insane!” You screamed at him, “Get off me, Cregan!”

Aemond chuckled from behind, “You know it’s me. You always did like it rough,” His hands smacked yours away from him, shoving your face down on the desk again, “And poor Cregan just couldn’t do that for you, could he?”

Tears fell onto the desk below you, brain short circuiting as you didn’t know what to do or how to react, “Cregan, this isn’t funny.” You tried one last time, hoping his name would reach him, to snap him out of whatever this was, “Please, stop.”

Two large hands wrapped themselves around your wrists, bringing them both into one as he squeezed, face coming to the side of yours as he growled deeply, “Stop. Calling. Me. That.”

Aemond’s free hand ripped at your lace panties that you had worn for Cregan, tearing them to shreds from your body, the burn of the material hot against your skin. His hips pressed into you from behind roughly, and you stifled a confused and frightened sob.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy like I’ve wanted to for years.” He emphasised with a grind against your backside, “I’ve had to watch you cry over me, my sweet byka mēre.” Little one, You sobbed loudly at the name, “Ao sagon ñuhon. Iksan dōrī ivestragī jā.” You’re mine. I am never letting you go.

It was him.

It was truly him.

Cregan couldn’t speak Aemond’s native tongue.

Cregan didn’t know the names your late husband had called you.

It was him.

It was Aemond.

You sobbed beneath him, you didn’t know if it was in relief, in horror, or in fear.

You were so confused.

“Valzȳrys?” Husband, You cried, trying to turn your head, but knowing that you would be met with a face that didn’t match.

Long fingers brushed through your folds, finding them slick already, “Shhh.” Aemond quietened you, “Let me take care of my ābrazȳrys.” Wife.

Aemond smeared your slick through your folds with the tip of his cock as he brushed against your bud and then pushed inside of you. A long groan fluttered through his chest, vibrating against your back.

He set a brutal pace immediately, the old, heavy, wooden desk jutting with each thrust, your hips no doubt bruised from the force. Tears still fell from your eyes as you cried out, feeling him pull you by your hair, causing your back to arch up against his front as he fucked into you harder, hot pants in your ear.

Aemond fucked you in a way that only he knew how, pulling mewl after mewl from you with every stroke, large palm squeezing at your throat whilst the other moved to grasp at your hip, pulling you back onto his cock roughly, slick dripping down your thighs as the coil within you began to tighten.

“So fucking tight for me.” He grunted from behind, hand coming to your front to gather some slick from your folds as he parted them further, his cock plunging inside of you from between them, “So fucking wet. I have missed this little pussy.”

His fingers pressed against your bud, swirling in time with his thrusts, causing your pleasure to mount faster and faster, the tears having stopped falling from your eyes as you moaned loudly, head thrown back against his shoulder.

Your release was bounding towards you rapidly, and Aemond felt it.

“Squeezing me so good, you gonna cum for me already?”

You nodded, feeling a smirk beside your cheek as he pressed harder against your bud, “Cum for me.”

The coil snapped, and warmth flooded over your body as your writhed in his grip, walls gripping his cock as you came hard. Aemond increased his pace, fucking into you harder as he squeezed your neck roughly, mind spinning and vision going black in the corners.

You felt like you were floating.

You hadn’t felt like this in years.

Aemond moaned from behind you as your walls clamped down on him, “Such a perfect little pussy.” He thrusted deeply into you, grinding the air out of your lungs as your mouth dropped open, “Made me for me. Only me.”

You body began to feel heavy as he continued to squeeze your throat, mind going fuzzy as you floated in bliss, his cock drilling into your walls, the sound of your slick release obscene in the room as he clapped his hips against yours.

“You’re mine.” Came a growl that sounded just like Aemond’s voice and not Cregan’s, tip of his cock jutting into your cervix painfully, “Forever.”

You nodded weakly and whined, “Yours. Only yours.”

Tears began to spring into your eyes again, knowing that this was Aemond. Knowing that this was him, but also knowing that you could never have him truly. Knowing he was gone, and never coming back, and although you had tried, although you did love Cregan, you would never truly move on from Aemond.

You would always be his.

The grip around your neck pulled away and blood rushed to your head, strange euphoria taking over as you felt his pull out of you from behind. You stumbled forward slightly before he caught you, turning you around and lifting you onto the desk. And although you were staring at Cregan’s face, with his stormy grey eyes and his brown hair, you could tell just by the way his features contorted, by the way he moved or talked or fucked you, that it was Aemond.

And at this, more tears came.

Aemond sucked his tongue at you, wiping away a tear roughly as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, and without waiting another second, slid back inside of your walls, a needy moan falling from your lips as you continued to cry.

Aemond began to rub at your clit again, sending blinding pleasure back up your spine. It was almost too much, too intense, added with everything else, your mind was running in circles.

You whimpered and tried to run away from his fingers, which only served to anger him.

“Stop crying.” He ordered, hand slapping at your clit in warning causing you to yelp.

You hiccuped and sniffled, body jolting with every thrust as he pushed you backwards to lay down on the desk, hovering over you, one hand gripping your shoulder to pull you back down on him, the other pressed onto your swollen bud, “You like when I fuck this little pussy?” He grunted, and you closed your eyes, trying to imagine his face instead of seeing Cregan’s.

“You’ve been thinking of me, haven’t you?” He chastised you, tutting meanly as you nodded your head with a suppressed sob, “He could never fuck you the way I can.”

Pleasure mounting within you again, all you could do was nod and babble yes.

This seemed to both please and anger Aemond, his thrusts speeding up as your spine rubbed painfully into the hard wooden surface, “Cregan could never give you what you want. What you need. He’s useless.” A tear tracked down your cheek as you turned your head away, looking at the far wall as he ploughed into your cunt, “It’s only me. Only I can make you feel this good.”

You moaned beneath him as you felt your second peak rising just as rapidly as the first, his hand not once relenting. But your non-answer came at a cost. Pain bloomed in the side of your cheek as you squeaked, slap having caught your attention as Aemond pinched your jaw in his hand to look up into eyes that weren’t his.

“Say it.” He thrust into you sharply and as deep as he could go, sparks of pain rippling through your cervix in a haze of confusing pleasure.

“Only you,” You whined, “Always you, Aemond.”

“Good girl.”

Aemond’s pace increased, determined to bring you to your end as well as reach his, each thrust jolting the desk against the floor and punching the air from your lungs. You knew that by morning you’d be an aching and bruised mess, but that thought only brought you closer to your peak.

Loving kisses were dotted against your cheeks as Aemond soothed the tracks of tears away with his lips. Your hands reaching up to wrap themselves around his shoulders and your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him in closer.

“Please.” You whimpered, but you didn’t know what for.

Aemond’s arms scooped under your back and pulled you closer to him, changing the angle so that his cock pressed deeper and at a higher angle, one that he knew you loved the most.

And it was all that you needed before you fell of the edge with him, head tossed back in ecstasy as you came for the second time, Aemond following you with a long moan, pressing as deep as he could inside of you.

“I love you.” You whispered into his neck, feeling his cock pulse inside of you, cum filling up your walls.

Your hands soothed the hair at the front of his face in a way you knew he liked, and you felt him shudder from above, kisses pressed into the crux of your shoulder and neck as he whispered into the skin.

I love you.

All too soon, the high of your ecstasy fizzled away, and reality came crashing down around you. Your arms and legs tightened around him, small hiss coming through his teeth as your walls clamped around him.

The stinging prickle of tears filled your eyes again, “Please don’t leave me.” You cried, heart beginning to feel as though it was breaking all over again.

Aemond pulled away from you, though not without a struggle, a different face looking down at you with a familiar sign of love. His hand came to brush the tears away from your cheek slowly, before he leant down to pull you into a kiss, your lips shuddering as you poorly contained a sob, “I will never leave you.” He whispered against your lips, “Not now, not ever. I am always here.” He pulled away, soothing your hair from your face as his brows pulled together in a way that you knew pain was coming.

You tried to sit up, to try and soothe his pain, to instinctually run for the medication you had kept all these years, but he stopped you, cupping your cheek with his large hand as he looked down at you, eyes now full of determination, “I am always watching you. And one day, Cregan won’t be a problem anymore.”

You blinked in confusion as you looked at him, your own brows furrowing, but before you could even respond, his eyes shut in pain and a groan whittled through his lips, heel of his hand pressed into the side of his face where Aemond had lost his eye.

“Aemond?” You whispered quietly, unsure what was happening.

Grey eyes opened slightly, looking at you in confusion as he blinked a couple of times, “Huh?” A low groan came from deep within his chest as he clutched the side of his head, “Wha- Wher-“

“Cregan?”

His eyes opened at you again, and then did a sweep of you and the position you were in. You looked no doubt a mess, hair tousled, neck red from where Aemond’s- Cregan’s hands had squeezed, down to your ripped dress, to finally where you were still connected, your combined releases leaking onto the old wooden desk.

Blinking rapidly he noticed the tear tracks staining your cheeks, and suddenly the pain was pushed away by concern. Cregan’s hand came to touch your neck tentatively, fear rising on his features, "Are you okay?” His voice was rushed, “Are you hurt? Did I- Did I hurt you?”

Guilt and pain struck in your chest.

He thought you were hurt.

He thought he hurt you.

You shook your head rapidly, clutching the sides of his face in your hands, “No, no. You didn’t hurt me. Not at all.”

Cregan seemed to relax at this, though there was still confusion as he looked at you, forehead pulled in pain as he tried to piece everything together.

“Did we…”

You bit at your lip, worrying it between your teeth, “Are you okay? Do you remember anything?”

The man closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think, “I remember smelling food, and then I had this urge to go somewhere.“

Your heart began to race in your chest as you looked at him. You wet your lips with your tongue, eyes searching his face for any sign of Aemond left.

What had just happened?

Was any of that real?

What was happening to you?

What was happening to Cregan?

“Hey.” Cregan caught your attention again, lowering his face to your height, “Are you okay?”

Your mouth was dry.

Were you okay?

No.

Yes.

You didn’t know.

“I’m okay.” You lied.

Cregan frowned at your obvious avoidance, “You sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“Positive.” You reassured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, your stomach turning.

When you pulled away, Cregan was watching you with caution again.

“What?” You asked quietly, fear beginning to rise inside of you.

Did he remember?

Does he know?

Did he-

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You couldn’t help it.

You couldn’t stop it if you tried.

A broken sob fell through your lips like a half laugh.

Had you?

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the general tag list please let me know on the general taglist post here :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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wardlowsbabydoll · 2 years

Text

Julia Hart Masterlist

Country Bar (Fluff)

Being the Pet of the House (Headcanons)

#Julia hart #Julia hart imagine #Julia hart smut #Julia hart fluff #Julia hart angst #spooky murder wife

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wardenparker · 8 months

Text

The Viper's Bride - ch 16

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 13.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* It's time orgy, friends! MMMFFFF group sex. Oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, fingering, anal play, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pregnant sex, rough sex, multiple partners. dirty talk, voyeurism, substance use, sexual experience enhanced by substance use. Canon typical violence, poison, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of sexual assault (Elia's), eye gore, murder, character death. Summary: The night before Oberyn fights in the Trial by Combat holds special meaning for your group, and for Raeden in particular. And the fight itself? Is worse than you could ever imagine. Notes: Well, my loves. This is it 🧡 The final chapter of Oberyn's soulmate extravaganza. Next week will be the epilogue and then we'll dive into spooky season head first with Max Phillips' soulmate story the week after that!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15

It is almost surreal to watch your father and brother step away together. The tension that had filled the room seems to dissipate all at once, and you fall down again in your seat beside Raeden with a sigh. “That was…unexpected.”

“Completely astounding.” Oberyn muses thoughtfully, still reclined in his chair and shaking his head. “Fate is playing in your life, Star. The Gods have truly taken an interest.”

“Perhaps.” Looking around you at the table, it feels hard to deny. Otherwise why would those same gods have blessed you with so much love and companionship? “Perhaps I am simply very lucky. Who can say?”

“You will be very lucky tonight.” Raeden predicts with a salacious grin, his fingers still stroking his wife’s arm, although he is grazing the curve of her breast.

“I believe that will be you, my love.” Your prediction carries equal weight, considering Oberyn’s dark eyes turned to Raeden the moment your father and Salin had left your chambers. “My husband looks as though he might pounce.”

“I must admit that I am eager for the rest of our night to begin.” Draining the rest of his wine out of his cup, he passes it to Ellaria to refill as he stands. Striding over to the other man and caressing his jaw with one finger as he looks down at him. “Take off your clothes.” He orders huskily.

There could not be a more obvious signal to the whole party that the night has officially begun, and Raeden’s calmly curved grin of anticipation tucks itself into the corner of his mouth as he reaches for the ties of the robe over his shirt and trousers. “As my prince commands,” he intones, knowing from many nights of seeing you and Ellaria use that same line to entice him, that Oberyn enjoys the acknowledgment of his power during sex.

His eyes shift to Margaery: “Tonight, you will watch your husband take my cock.” He informs her. “The best pleasure he will have will be if he cums inside another. You or any of the other lovely ladies or Cal can be under him if you wish to be.”

"My husband can cum in whomever he chooses." Margaery hums, having found very quickly that she enjoys the shared pleasure of multiple partners. "As long as I have a beautiful woman's thighs on either side of my head, I do not mind if it is me or someone else."

“You should watch, lover.” Ellaria coos as she smirks slightly. “Let me lick your cunt while you watch, you will not regret it.”

"I would be a very stupid woman to give up that kind of offer." Margaery grins, leaning in to brush a kiss across Ellaria's lips.

Ellaria cups her lover's face while you look on, kissing her passionately. “Cal, Leyth?” Oberyn looks over at the couple who have been serving faithfully. “Would you like to join us in our pleasure tonight?”

"Please." Leyth is already nodding halfway through the question, clutching Cal's hand in eager anticipation. "We...have missed being asked to join you. Very much."

“We have not wanted you to feel as if you have to join us.” Oberyn knows the couple is aware of the changing dynamic and the time needed to adapt.

"The freedom to choose is not lost on us," Leyth assures him, always grateful that that choice has been afforded to them and that their choices are actually respected. "So let us say that tonight we eagerly choose to accept your invitation."

“Fuck.” Raeden pauses before he shucks his breeches and laughs. “Is this to be a proper orgy, in the Red Keep?”

"Why should we not?" You have stood from the table as well, and share in Raeden's amusement. "Cersei already assumes it is what we do every night. We might as well make her correct just once."

“Then I hope that all the lords and ladies around us complain about the noises we make.” He decides with a grin, feeling completely free for the first time and reveling in it.

"We will make sure of it." Ellaria promises, cradling Margaery at her side and nipping at the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

Leyth turns and gives her lover a soft kiss on his lips before she moves towards you. “Princess…” she murmurs softly, having wondered what you kiss like or if you would want her to touch you.

“Come here…” Beckoning her closer, you offer her an encouraging smile and readily meet Leyth’s lips for a kiss.

She’s relieved, her own admiration and respect for you growing into a crush that she has been unable to express. Sliding her hands up and cupping the back of your head with greedy hands.

It is surprising but not unwelcome, the enthusiasm that Leyth has for the kiss drawing you in more and more to explore what is being offered to you. Leyth is stunning — you have always thought so, even since the first day you set foot in the brothel — and you are not about to turn up the chance to know her better tonight when everyone will be indulging in whomever they please.

Ellaria hums in pleasure as she sees that everyone is very well occupied. Smirking at her soulmate’s wife, she starts to pull off her dress. “We should get comfortable.”

“I have never been more comfortable in my life,” Margaery promises her, following the cue and beginning to undress Ellaria in turn. Her Dornish dress is much simpler and easier to remove, making Margaery remember the first time — not so long ago — that you had pouted about the complexity of northern dresses. It is a welcome feeling, to connect the two experiences, and the younger woman hums happily at how easy it is to slip her hand inside Ellaria’s dress and palm the welcome weight of her breast with one hand.

“We will enjoy ourselves immensely.” Ellaria moans breathlessly when the other woman pinches her nipple. With sexual freedom, Margaery Tyrell, now Sunstone, has quickly developed the skills that most whores only dream of when pleasuring another woman. “If I lick every cunt and fuck every cock, it will be a good night.”

“Perhaps we should make that our new motto,” Margaery suggested, giggling immensely even as her other hand is working diligently to slip Ellaria’s dress away from her skin. “For nights such as this, I cannot think of anything better.”

Raeden stands naked in front of Oberyn, his cock already hard and jutting out proudly, making both Oberyn and Cal groan as they look on. “How do you want me?” He asks, slightly breathless as he shivers in anticipation. It has been so long since he has felt a man’s touch, and this man, both of these men, are beautiful and he wants to embrace the freedom he has been given by your marriage to the man who is going to fuck him.

“However the prince wants us, he will have us both.” Cal can barely keep himself from touching, but he has been privy to how long Oberyn has waited to have Raeden in his bed. He can very easily wait his turn so the prince can have what he wants.

“Lay down on the bed.” Oberyn orders both men. “Cal, strip down as well.” He grunts, satisfied that he will be able to have everything he wants tonight. “Show me what it looks like to have the two of you kiss.”

It is an achingly easy set of instructions to follow, and if Cal were wearing something other than the robes that the prince had given him befitting his station, he might have simply torn them off. As it is he struggles to get them off as quickly as possible and follows Lord Sunstone onto the bed to all but fall into the larger man’s arms. He has wondered endlessly what the new lord will be like to have his hands on and it takes him no time at all before he is moaning against Raeden’s lips.

Cal is lithe, yet there is strength in his touch and embrace. Raeden doesn’t even hesitate, one large hand sliding down his chest and over his abs to brush against the other man’s cock before wrapping his hand around it and giving him a gentle squeeze.

It is not unusual for this suite of rooms to be filled with the sounds of pleasure. In fact, each and every night there are people fucking in more of these beds than not. The difference is that tonight you are all in one room. Raeden is fisting Cal's cock on the bed with Oberyn kneeling over them with dark, predatory eyes as they kiss. Ellaria has Margaery spread out over the largest arm chair before the fire, carefully and methodically chasing her own touch down the younger woman's body with her tongue to taste every inch of her. And on the other side of the fireplace, Leyth has laid you down on the chaise to let you watch the proceedings as she eagerly learns what touches make you sigh and moan.

His eyes feast on the sight and his own fingers quickly pull at the ties and strings of his robes. Wishing to be as bare as his lovers. “His cock is wonderful.” He praises as he watches the dark hand glide up and down the lighter toned cock. “Now, I wish to taste yours.”

Raeden does not need to be told twice, rolling to his back with his hand still stroking Cal's length so that he does not have to give up any contact but still exposes every inch of himself to Oberyn's desires. "I am yours," he promises, and the truth of it rattles him more than he expected.

“Not yet.” Oberyn chuckles as he kneels on the bed, running his hands up the muscular calves of your soulmate. “But you will be.”

It is the kind of declaration that shoots to something visceral inside him, and Raeden's cock twitches unmistakably in response. "Then take me," he poses, his words laced with a seductive challenge that he knows Oberyn will not be able to resist. "Make me yours."

There’s a rough little growl the back of the Prince’s throat, smirking as he lunges forward and wraps his hand around the thick length of your lover’s cock to roll down the foreskin and prove to the new lord that despite his lofty status, he is not unskilled in the art of sucking a cock.

As determined as he had been to continue stroking Cal's length, Raeden's hand stutters immediately and he lets out a groan so deep that it seems to rattle the windows. His fingers dig into Oberyn's short hair, encouraging his movements without directing or pushing him, and Raeden's head falls back for just a moment as he shudders with the intensity of the prince's attentions.

It’s about pleasure, but it’s also about preparation. Oberyn knows it’s been years since Raeden has touched or been touched by another man. The last time was when he was a younger man. He is not used to taking a cock and will need to be stretched out. Taking his fingers down to the hole he wishes to possess, he smears his spit around it in a gentle massage.

The gasp and grunt that releases from somewhere deep in Raeden's body vibrates through his body and his fingers tighten in Oberyn's hair desperately. It has been far, far too long since he had this sort of experience and it is only now - having it offered to him on proverbial silver platter - that he realizes how deeply he has been missing it. Spreading his legs and reminding himself to relax, Raeden falls back onto the pillows which his next moan.

Cal decides that Raeden's too distracted for kissing, but his lips move down his chiseled jaw. Kissing along the smooth skin and down to flat, hard nipples so he can flick his tongue over them and help work the other man up. He knows he wants to be under this man while the prince fucks him, his own cock twitching at the thought.

"Gods above," Raeden chokes out, his head already swimming. There is something so singular about experiencing pleasure from someone of your own sex. A person who knows the intricacies of what touches and pressure bring pleasure because he himself has felt the pleasure that it brings. It makes Oberyn's tongue agile and sure, and every flickering touch from Cal is filled with confidence.

Oberyn chuckles and pulls off the cock with a satisfied sound. Lazily licking down his soft, full balls to take one into his mouth, still steadily rubbing, though he is adding more pressure. Not quite breaching the other man, but close.

It has Raeden squirming, trying to move toward the pressure he wants so badly without missing out on any of the touches he is already receiving – begging for more without saying a word.

Oberyn’s eyes find Margaery’s then yours in a slow perusal of the room. “Watch.” He orders, pulling his fingers away momentarily to wet them even more before slowly starting to push the first finger inside the man’s ring of muscles.

There is a collective holding of breath when Raeden moans, with every set of eyes watching as his own close in bliss. "Fuuuck..." It is low and growling and delicious and Raeden is laid out like a feast on the bed for Oberyn and Cal to devour.

The tight heat has Oberyn eager to sink into him, slowly pushing his finger deeper until it is sunk to his knuckle and then carefully searching for that wonderful little spot that makes every man keen when he is entered. The one that can make him cum without anything wrapped around his cock. “Why don’t you prepare Cal to take your cock like I am readying you?” Oberyn suggests as he smirks. “I think the man is salivating to be impaled on your cock.”

"Lover." His attention had been so singularly focused on Raeden that Oberyn has not noticed Ellaria slipping temporarily from the space between Margaery's thighs to bring him a bottle. "You will all be happier to have this," she suggests, setting the small, corked bottle of oil on the bed beside her soulmates.

“Thank you.” The oil will greatly aid the pleasure and he takes it with a small smile and a wink. “Thank you, sun.” He coos softly.

"I want to hear all three of you scream," she confides, diving into kissing Oberyn with her usual, dedicated, passion where she does not pull back again until she has relearned every contour of his mouth. "But only with pleasure."

“Tonight we will make the halls of the keep ring out in pleasure.” He chuckles before he unstops the bottle.

It is not a prediction that anyone doubts, but as the men turn back to each other to focus on pulling as many sounds as possible from each other in these early stages of pleasure, you stop Ellaria on her way back to Margaery. "Join us?" You almost beg her, having made room on the large chaise for more bodies. There is nothing you want more right now than your own tangle of limbs - all four women sharing space and sharing each other.

Smiling indulgently, Ellaria curls her finger towards Margaery before she leans in to press her lips to yours. “Shall we see how we can tangle our bodies together in pleasure, lover?”

Margeary comes to your sides like a moth to flame, practically moaning as she watches you and Ellaria sink into a deep kiss. "It is only fair," she decides, leaning down to kiss Leyth, as well. The curvaceous redhead had not escaped her notice for even a moment.

It is funny how the group has been separated, although not surprising. Leyth and Cal have discussed at length the dynamic, murmuring the dark from their own small, yet comfortable bed off the chambers. Now, tonight, is a fulfillment of those desires that have been repressed and it should be a night to recall fondly.

"My prince." Cal looks up from the nipple he has been lavishing attention on and his fingers, run down to tease Raeden's cock with a slow pump up and down his length. "At the brothel, we used to take this...herb, it kept our cocks hard after we had finished." He explains. "Perhaps tonight would be a good time to use it? To make sure everyone gets to exhaust themselves?"

In the middle of the conversation, very literally, Raeden’s hips buck subtly at the idea of such an increasing, wondering if the prince even needs such an aid. But then — there are seven of you. And that is an enormous amount of Fucking no matter who you are. “I—I would partake,” he agrees, eyes fixated on Cal’s hand.

He can't help himself, it's too tempting with the pearl of liquid that is pooling on the dark tip of his beautiful cock. Cal ducks his head and wraps his lips around the first inch of Raeden's cock while Oberyn's lubricated fingers push back inside him. Looking down at the prince, he wonders if he will agree because his own cock throbs at feeling both men inside him tonight.

“Does it help women?” Margaery asks with curiosity, thinking of all the ways this night might go. She has never had trouble becoming aroused for her partners before, but the idea of more is beckoning her tonight.

“It does.” The answer comes from Leyth. “It is why the women in the brothels are always so wet.” She tells you. It might be the one good thing Littlefinger did for his whores. Even if it was only so there was less probability of being hurt when fucking an unattractive client.

“Then perhaps we could all partake?” You look to your husband with curiosity. “Anything that enhances our pleasure tonight is surely welcome.”

“Would it hurt the babe?” That is the only reservation that Oberyn would have as he looks between the two servants.

“No.” Leyth shakes her head immediately. “Some of the girls…the ones who could bear children…they took the herb nearly every day but the babes were never affected.” She would never do anything to put your or the child in harm’s way, and dearly hopes that you and Oberyn know that.

Smiling slightly, Oberyn nods his head and looks at you with lust fueled eyes. “Yes, Star.” He agrees. “Anyone who wishes to take it, should.”

Cal moves gracefully from the bed to retrieve a simple metal box from the room he shared with Leyth. The powdered herb is familiar to them but not unwelcome, which was why they had kept it with them after leaving the brothel. The thought of one night in the future being like this was tempting. “Put a pinch of the powder under your tongue and let your spit wash it away,” he tells all of you, providing an example by demonstrating before he passes the little metal box around.

Leyth also demonstrates when the box reaches the ladies, moaning slightly at the familiar taste. “We will have a very good night.”

The powder is minty and dissolves quickly, leaving all of you looking a little more mischievous afterward. With debauchery ensured, you all tangled in each other’s arms immediately. The four women in the chaise are spread over every inch of the overlarge piece of furniture, and even with Leyth and Ellaria firmly between yours and Margaery’s thighs, you find your way to grope and lavish each other with kisses.

Oberyn groans at the taste of the herb and pulls Cal in for a kiss before turning his attention back to Raeden. “Now. I am going to ready you and I think Cal and I both will suck your cock.

It is not something either of the other men are going to object to, and Raeden falls back into the pillows with a groan. The sight of Oberyn and Cal twined together in a kiss would be enough to have him rock hard under almost any circumstance – but now they are bent over him so that his cock is receiving every lick of attention and it has set his entire body on fire.

Again, his fingers start to push back into Raeden’s body as he sucks on the man’s cock like it was the sweetest of treats. His tongue tangling with Cal’s as they try to wring cries of pleasure from him.

He is in ecstasy and there is no mistaking it. Raeden writhes and bucks under Oberyn and Cal's attentions, grasping at the sheets or their shoulders or anything he can get his hands on and you cannot tear your eyes away. "Look," you instruct Margaery, nudging her jaw with your nose and sucking a mark into the pale skin of her neck when her eyes move to the bed. "My husband is going to fuck yours, just like I fuck you."

"It is not quite the same, lover." She hums, her greedy eyes fixed on the way that her husband squirms and whines in need. "But just like they enjoy the sight of us wrapped up in one another, I will savor this view."

Of course it isn't exactly the same, but it is close enough to make you moan just at the sight of them -- which Leyth heightens with a stroke of her masterful tongue and chases with two fingers sliding inside your dripping pussy the way Oberyn's fingers are slipping deep inside Raeden. It is all like an incredible dream, and you truly hope that you will be able to sample every single pleasure possible tonight.

“You will look magnificent on my cock.” Oberyn groans, pulling off his leaking cock to purr pure filth to him. “Imagine our lovers walking in at any time to find you bent over, my cock buried in your ass and my hand wrapped around your cock as you moan my name.” He smirks. “Or on your knees, my cock in your mouth and Cal’s in your ass as we spit roast you, your leaking cock neglected until you cum from our attention.”

The entire room moans in unison at the images presented. There is not a single one person in this room who would not immediately climb into the bed and join in if they saw it. “If any of us walked into that, we would swallow every drop of cum and beg for more,” you predict, knowing that it is true for you at the very least.

“If he is bouncing on my cock, I expect you to ride his.” Oberyn chuckles, curling his fingers deep and pressing against his spot that immediately has Raeden keening.

He had forgotten. Or else thought that he was remembering the sensation with exaggeration. But the way pleasure courses through him with the press of Oberyn’s fingers on that specific, seemingly magical spot inside of him makes Raeden sure that this sensation is better than what he had felt years ago. Perhaps it is down to the skill of his partner but it is utterly remarkable. His broken cry to the gods is met with a moan from his wife when Ellaria sticks on her clit just so, and at once all of you seem to commit that much more to the debaucherous goal of the night.

"The Sunstones are having the time of their lives tonight." Oberyn quips, very pleased with himself as he finds that spot and curls his fingers against it again. If this herb works as well as Cal claims, he feels like Raeden will cum and cum and cum. He wants to see if his theory is correct.

“And we will make sure you do too,” Margaery promises, breathless, with one hand buried in Ellaria’s thick hair and the other squeezing the weight of your tit in her palm. Raeden squirms, panting his agreement and just trying to get as much of Oberyn’s fingers as possible inside him when he knows for certain that it is not enough. “More,” he begs, the word cracked with another moan even as his own hand is dedicated to making Cal ready in the very same way.

“You will.” He has no doubt of that. The night is too full of promise and he drinks in the moans of the group. “I will fuck every one of you tonight, including you, Lady Sunstone.”

“You too will be marked by her,” Raeden manages to tease even at the expense of another moan. He wears the marks from his wife’s fingernails like a badge of honor, and so do you. After tonight, all of you will.

“Vicious little tiger.” Oberyn chuckles, adding a third finger into her husband as he talks to Margaery.

He had asked for more, and he groans at getting it. His cock leaks precum, twitching and aching with need, and his back arches off the bed in eager anticipation. “Gods—yes—fuuuck—”

"How thrilling that I will possess both you and your wife tonight." He coos, smirking at the way Raeden's head tilts back. "Just as I have your soulmates." It's not meant to taunt him, just show him how he belongs here.

“As I have possessed yours.” Raeden grunts, groaning at the stretch of having another finger added to his tight hole. “Ours.”

Oberyn groans, his cock twitching in response and he hums. "Yessss, ours." He agrees. "Now you are going to spill into Cal's mouth. Give him a taste of what you are going to pump into his ass in just a few minutes."

Taking orders as a soldier and taking orders in bed are two different circumstances, but Raeden surprises himself with how little it bothers him to have those orders given. Instead, it only seems to spur him on tonight, and Cal too. Cal who has Raeden's cock so far down his throat that the man on his back is surprised he has not outright choked yet.

Ellaria hums as she looks up from between Margaery’s thighs. “He is close, lover.” She confides. “And sounds so sweet, but he tastes even sweeter on your tongue.”

Cal's own cock is beaded with precum as he swallows around Raeden's length, desperate to find out just how sweet that taste really is. Oberyn has three fingers buried deep, curling them expertly while he other hand kneads the flesh of Raeden's thighs and caresses his heavy balls, knowing that they - like his own and Cal's - will be emptied many times tonight. Raeden's breathing comes in ragged pants, moans becoming whines and keening curses the closer he gets to his first peak of the night. Climbing and climbing, his back lifts off the bed entirely when Oberyn and Cal's names tear from his lips for the first time and that first spurt of hot cum is followed by countless more.

Oberyn throbs, his own cock pulsing at the sight of Raeden cumming. Nearly about to burst himself from how erotic it is. Groaning as he continues to pump his fingers while the other man fills Cal’s mouth to where cum is sliding down his chin.

Cal's own moan is almost as loud as Raeden's, the other man scrambling to swallow as much as he possibly can while still losing a few strands of sticky cum to the column of his neck. For the first climax of the night, it is the perfect way to begin and has him nearly bursting in his own right.

Oberyn pulls his fingers out at Raeden and he hums with a grin on his face. “That is beautiful.”

"The first of many beautiful sights tonight." You had been watching too, always unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of Raeden's pleasure.

“Now one of our ladies needs to cum.” Oberyn says as he watches Ellaria dive back into Margarey’s cunt. “Will it be my star or my flower?” He asks curiously.

The so-called competition of the question is taken quite seriously by Ellaria and Leyth, it seems, and both women redouble their efforts on Margaery and your pleasure. As talented as Ellaria is, and as eager for this night as Margery has been, it is decidedly the newest member of the group's chance to come apart next – although you feel you might be directly at her heels with Leyth's clever tongue drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

Ellaria’s tongue curls around Margaery’s clit, sucking it into her mouth as a hand slides up to squeeze her breast. Her dark eyes fixed on her face and she’s humming to vibrate her bundle of nerves.

Margaery’s nails dig into Ellaria’s shoulder without apology, biting into the skin as her body tensed and her mouth falls open on a vocal scream. Her eyes nearly cross from the pressure and her cunt bears down on Ellaria’s king fingers tightly, drawing them in deeply before flooding them with slick release that runs all the way down and drips to Ellaria’s wrist.

Raeden moans, both from his own release and the loss of Oberyn's fingers while Cal pulls off his cock and watching his wife cum. He knows how talented that mouth is and he is sure that tonight, every one of you will collapse into a deep sleep for the few hours you get.

“How do you want us?” Cal asks Oberyn, knowing that however the prince wishes to have his newest lover, he will find a way to be under Raeden and take the force of them together with as much pride as pleasure.

His brow arches as he looks at Raeden. Contemplating the positions and how easy it will be for the other two men. “On your knees.” He decides, lifting to his own knees and wrapping his hand around his cock. “Hand me the oil.”

Call practically flattens himself to the bed immediately, hips rolled back to entice Raeden but also because he can’t help grinding his own cock into the mattress right now. Raeden takes the moment to sit up, lips crashing against Oberyn’s for a deep and intense tangling of tongues before he pulls away again to gasp for air and takes his position over Cal with his own ass in the air.

“Fuck.” Raeden groans when he hears the slick sounds of Oberyn piling up his cock and the bottle is pressed against his arm. “Ready yourself to plunge into Cal.” Oberyn strokes his ass possessively.

Four of you are watching from the chaise as Oberyn starts to slide inside Raeden, and Raeden in turn begins to break open Cal. The three men are as coordinated and careful as they can be in this moment but they aren’t the only ones moaning. It is a sight to behold and you are instantly panting with increased desire — chest heaving and threatening to have you moaning with every shallow breath.

“Ohhhhhhhhh.” Raeden’s eyes close, mouth open on a moan as the prince rocks into him steadily. Not forceful or impatient, it is just the right tempo to have him take the thickness of the man and desire more as his own cock sinks into the tight, welcoming hole of Cal’s body. The servant whimpers his name, making him twitch as he pushes back against him, eager to feel the lord’s cock firmly buried after so long without this kind of pleasure.

“If you feel half as good as you look, my loves, you must all be in ecstasy.” Even Leyth has paused to watch, kneeling between your legs, and she smiles up at you momentarily when you speak before curling her fingers determinedly inside you to hear the gasp it will pull from your chest. “You will cum so easily watching them, I expect,” she purrs. “I know you like to watch, princess. So keep your eyes on our men while I make you scream.”

“You know the Princess.” Margaery pulls Ellaria up for a kiss and to turn her over so she can touch and kiss while watching her husband as the filling to a delicious treat. “Her cunt gets so wet when she watches her lovers.”

"Can you blame me?" It is difficult to keep your eyes open as Leyth's remarkably clever tongue has your eyes nearly rolling back in your head as she works you closer and closer to the edge.

“Not at all.” She hums as she slides her fingers down and starts to rub Ellaria’s clit while her tongue shoots out to circle her breast.

Watching the three men together is vastly unlike watching them with anyone else. That tendency toward gentleness that Raeden has with partners who are not as physically strong as he is has vanished. He is not in control here but willingly giving all of that up to Oberyn. His groans rumble out from the depths of him as he submits completely to one man while still soothing his hands over Cal’s back whenever he needs to steady himself.

The choked cry catches in his throat when the next thrust comes rougher than the ones before. Signaling that the pace will pick up and there’s a sense of freedom to be had from the way Cal mewls under him.

"Gods." The moan from you on the chaise is more of a keen, and your fingers thread through Leyth's hair even as your hips grind down to meet her lips and tongue eagerly. "They will be the death of me but I will die a happy woman."

Oberyn’s eyes are fixed on where he is joined with Raeden until you whimper that statement. Chuckling as he looks over to where you are very eager splayed open for the lovely servant, he hums. “Not tonight, star.” He chides. “Perhaps we will let you expire when we have wrung every scream out of your throat.”

"Not a minute before," Margaery agrees, leaning over to flick her tongue across one of your nipples in a move that is surprisingly affectionate, before returning her full focus to Ellaria.

“Perfect.” The caress to Raeden’s hip is surprisingly gentle even as his hips snap forward. “You have chosen a perfect wife, Rae.”

"Is she n–not?" The last word is turned to a grunt with the forceful swing of Oberyn's hips, and Raeden's own slam into Cal with equal determination. The feeling of it is exquisite.

The chorus of moans pleases Oberyn, the feeling, the moment exactly what he had wished for. Tonight is about living, experiencing life to the fullest and what is better than a tight ass a round his cock while one of his soulmates has her cunt licked while the other is finger fucked? Surely the halls are filled with the sounds of pleasure coming from this room.

Leyth pitches you off the cliff of pleasure just moments later, humming into your dripping cunt as her fingers curl against that perfect spot inside you. The only thing stopping your thighs from squeezing Leyth's ears shut is her strategically-placed arm, holding you spread out for her so that you cannot do anything but quake and cry out as she skillfully shatters you into a million blissed out pieces.

Margaery and Ellaria watch. Her fingers curled deep into the paramours cunt, Margaery’s head twists around as she moans softly at the sight of your body shaking and heaving with pleasure.

“Fucking gorgeous.” Raeden’s head had been turned to you as well, and the way he groans when you cum is only half to do with Cal’s body bearing down on his cock so tightly. He nearly growls at the feeling, scratching his blunted nails down the other man’s spine. “Cal thinks so, too.”

“Yes.” The other man whines. “All of you, so -“ he moans when Raeden’s hips slap against his ass again, cock spurting a dribble of pre-cum onto the bed below him as he throbs. “So sexy. wanted to touch all of you.” He babbles. “W–wanted to.”

“Next time I hope you will not hesitate,” Ellaria purrs, watching the way his cock pulses with hungry fixation. “You need a cunt, Cal.” She declares with mischief in her voice. “Who do you want beneath you?”

“Anyone.” He moans, eyes rolling back into his head as he imagines filling one of the gorgeous ladies spread out and teasing him with the wet views of their cunts. He has never wanted to sink into a group more, even when he was having sex all the time. Even Leyth has admitted that the Prince’s lovers and friends are all people she would fuck willingly every day if asked. Neither one of them having an reservations about that now they have had months with just the two of them together and no demands on their bodies. “Please. I-I am close.”

“It should be you, lover,” your hand caresses Ellaria’s cheek only because you are not close enough to kiss her. “I know you have missed Cal’s cock.”

“You do not want to experience his cock?” She asks curiously. She had thought that you were becoming close to the servants and would want to be involved.

“Oh I do.” You can promise her that without hesitation. “But you have not cum yet. If you would rather cum for Margaery, I will gladly let these men weigh me into the mattress.”

“We will be in this position many more times.” She tells you breezily, tamping down her own fears. If Oberyn is lost tomorrow, she will not have you regret missing out on one experience with him. “Take your place under them and feel the power of all three.”

Leyth does not miss a beat, transferring her attention to Ellaria and Margaery after helping you off the chaise. The five steps you need to get to the bed are quick, and you slide across half the mattress to cup Cal’s jaw and bring his eyes to yours. “Hold still for just a moment and then you will have a slick cunt to cum in.”

His neck stretches slightly, eyes dark and lust blown. “Kiss me, Princess?” He chokes out.

That is a request you are glad to bend to, and you meet his lips with equal desire as you slide yourself under the clutch of slick bodies for which Cal is the anchor.

“Do not collapse on her.” Oberyn has no issue with you being under the group, but he will not have you take all their weight when his child is nestled inside your womb.

“Never.” They are all very aware of your condition and happy to have the new babe in the way. Making sure you and that babe are safe is the very top priority. Even so, Cal groans when you slip into place below him and wrap your hand around his cock to guide him into your velvet heat.

“Princess.” Breaking you open is an exquisite feeling. Looking down and seeing you beneath him as you take inch after inch of his cock. His own body being pushed forward by the much slower thrusts of the men behind him. “So— you are so tight.” He groans.

“She is ma—magnificent.” Raeden groans, so close to his own end that he can barely think. Every sense has been taken over by Oberyn and Cal.

“Yes she is.” Oberyn agrees, smirking slightly when he feels the way that Raeden is pushing back desperately. “I think my lord Sunstone wishes to spill his load again.” He teases, his fingers gripping the man’s hips fierce and he snaps his hips forward.

“Not everyone has your stamina, lover.” Ellaria is close now, too, with Leyth and Margaery both dedicated to pleasing her, and she throws her head back on the chaise when Margaery grazes her teeth along her swollen clit. “Cal will burst any moment,” she predicts with a moan.

“Fuck.” Raeden grits his teeth and feels his own body respond to the words and the way that Cal’s body is gripping him like a vice.

“Cum for us, love.” From where you are, you can look him in the eye with no effort in between Cal’s passionate kisses. “Cum in Cal and make him fill me, too.”

Your words make the world explode for Raeden. Gasping out a choked combination of Cal and Oberyn’s names, he gives into the pleasure that has been denied to him for years. The cock in his ass striking against pure Heaven, his own throbs and starts to fill the man below him with hot ropes of his seed.

Cal’s hips stutter mere moments later, slamming into yours with as much force as he can muster and painting your cunt with his own sticky cum. Both men are panting, glassy eyed with lust and still hard thanks to the powder that Cal has supplied.

“Cum, my prince.” Raeden begs desperately, enjoying the way Oberyn still rocks into him roughly. “I need to feel it.”

Oberyn’s answering grunt comes with a gleam in his eyes, and he knows you are all watching him with held breath. You all need to witness this as much as Raeden needs to feel it, knowing what it means to him. His jaw is clenched, giving him away, and you practically moan when you notice it. “He is close,” you promise your own paramour. “Squeeze his cock even once more and he will not be able to hold out.”

Oberyn hisses when Raeden immediately follows your suggestion and bears down on his cock. “Vixen.” He chokes out, snapping his hips forward one last time and grinding deep, closing his eyes as the orgasm consumes his attention.

There is no heat in the chastisement, just in Oberyn’s eyes, and you marvel at the way his beautiful body tenses completely and he groans Raeden’s name a the most holy prayer. They have both waited so long for this that it makes being a part of it all the more meaningful. Raeden shouts at the first feeling of Oberyn filling him — calls out to the gods in their heavens and then growls Oberyn’s name so fiercely that anyone would think that he was coming apart all over again. His fingers dig into Cal’s hips as Oberyn rides out his pleasure and Raeden unconsciously holds his breath. The moment seems to invigorate and nearly collapse him simultaneously but Cal is already angling the men to one side on the bed. When they did slump over and need five minutes of rest, they will fall beside you, not on you.

“This is the beginning of a glorious night.” Margarey hums, moving off the chaise so she can pet and kiss both you and her husband. Another affectionate peck for Cal and then last but not least, Oberyn. Showering everyone with attention as thanks for such a wonderful scene.

The pile of bodies on the bed grows one more time as Ellaria and Leyth move to join you, and the easy touches between all of you grow to more kisses before too long. There will be no rest tonight until everyone is entirely satiated — and that will not happen quickly.

“We must clean up before we touch you.” Oberyn murmurs against your lips. You had crawled out from under Cal and was dividing kisses between Raeden and Oberyn as they had stated to kiss fiercely.

“Am I so very pure?” To his mind you are, and you know that. Revel in it, even. He treats you like the most precious creature in the world now that you are carrying his child.

Oberyn snorts, nibbling on your pulse even as his still hard cock twitches inside Raeden. He has not pulled out of his body yet, could perhaps stay buried if he did not want to touch as man as he could tonight. “Very.” He teases. “The woman who begged me to marry her could not even fathom the woman carrying my child.”

“I think I would not even recognize that woman if I laid eyes on her again.” You could beg for more kisses, but that is about it.

“She is much more confidant about taking what she wants.” Ellaria coos, pulling away from Leyth and Cal for a moment. Her hand is already around the other man’s cock and pumping it as he moans against his partner’s breast.

“I learned that it is not a sin to take what is freely given.” And that, for you, has been so immensely freeing.

“Everyone here gives freely or they are not in this bed.” Margaery had been immensely comforted by the fact that both Leyth and Cal wished to be here.

“That is true.” Raeden purrs at his wife, plunging himself across several bodies to demand a kiss and pluck at her breast. “And you have taken to it very well, wife.”

Her moan is loud and symbolic of the night itself. Everyone pleasured and enjoying themselves.

“I believe it is your turn to be fucked by a prince, Lady Sunstone.” She is now the only one who has not had Oberyn’s cock and one who very much wants it, and you grin before leaning over to nip at the sensitive skin of her neck. “She is like me, husband,” you warn Oberyn, knowing it will actually delight him. “Slap her ass, pull her hair, and fuck her hard. You will be rewarded with the scratch of her nails and wailing moans of your name.”

Oberyn smirks as he rolls over, moving quickly to the water basin to wash and to get a cloth for Raeden and Cal. “We will see, Princess. I will paint her ass with my seed and see if it makes her any lovelier than she already is.”

“She is most beautiful when she is exhausted from cumming,” you attest, winking at Margaery before you lay back in the pillows and trace your fingers up and down the length of your slit. Cal’s cum mixed with your own and the feeling is wonderfully decadent. “That leaves us, my love,” you hum at Raeden as he quickly cleans himself. “Unless you plan to share Margaery with Oberyn? Then I will gladly finger fuck my own pussy at the sight.”

“Very fitting.” Raeden watches shamelessly, looking back and forth between you touching yourself and Oberyn cleaning his hard cock before he comes back to the bed. He aches, pleasantly so in a way that has been sorely missed, and he can feel the prince’s cum start to drip out of him. “He fucks my wife while I fuck his.”

“Then come here.” Reaching for him immediately, the smile on your face turns from amused to beaming and you tug him toward the bed again by his fingertips. “Take me however you want me. I promise my screams will reach the gods.”

“The night will be one that the gods are envious of.” Oberyn predicts with a smirk. “Old and new.”

******

The morning light wakes you first, as the pile of bodies on the bed in your chambers has wrapped itself up in a comfortable ball with seemingly only you facing the window. Or, at least, Oberyn has his face buried in your back with Raeden curled around him. Leyth is facing you in the center of the bed, with Margaery in Cal's arms on her other side, and Ellaria has one arm stretched out across all of their bodies as though she was reaching for you in her sleep. The night had left all of you as exhausted as you were satisfied and you had all fallen into dreams with your last partners and no hesitations whatsoever with your intimacy.

This morning, however, you would banish the brightness of the sun if it was in your power. Blot out its power and let night last forever. This morning, Oberyn will stand up and fight for his sister's honorable memory and Lord Tyrion's innocence. He will fight for his life. And the worry that that churns in you has you turning over in his arms to watch just a few more minutes of his peaceful sleep.

He wakes the moment you move, although he doesn’t give that away. Keeping still as you sigh heavily and his body stays relaxed as you shift and turn to face him. He can sense the sun, the light brighter than the flame of waxy candles that he had finally passed out to. Sometime, perhaps an hour before dawn. Even though he should be exhausted still, he’s invigorated, feeling as if he could fight a hundred Gregor Cleganes.

“The morning has come, my love.” As bare as a whisper, your fingertips do not even graze his skin but ghost over it as you watch Oberyn’s relaxed face. “Your morning. Your time in the light of the gods to bring Elia’s murderer to justice. The poets will sing about this morning with reverence.” Your voice shakes a little, tears threatening to burst through, but you swallow them with determination. “I promised you that I would be strong today, my love, and I will. You said for our people, but it is for you.” The tears you promised not to shed are close to the surface and you swallow again, thickly. “To fall in love with you was unthinkable, husband. It was never an option in my mind. But you—gods help me, you smiled at me and looked into my eyes and I knew somehow that my heart had room enough for two.” Your fingertips graze his beard gently and you almost choke, holding the sob in so you will not disturb anyone else in bed. “I believe you could conquer all Seven Kingdoms if you set your mind to it, my love. But—if you do not—if this morning goes awry—” Voice dropping impossibly lower, your open eyes are set firmly on his closed ones. On the set of his eyelashes and the tone of his skin in the rising sun. “Then the Mountain’s blood shall run from my dagger instead. I swear it on my own life.”

It is humbling to hear that vow set down from your sweet lips. Vengeance is not in your nature, revenge not steeped in your blood. That you would love him so fiercely to make that promise is like a soothing balm to the raw edges of the morning. He would never wish you to have to do that. He wants you to live your life peacefully, exactly how you wished. Neither does he want you to mourn him. Your first child, growing them, nurturing them in your body, should not be spent wallowing in misery.

“I love you, husband.” If he were awake you would seal the promise with a kiss, but as it is you study his features in repose. Memorizing his face one more time. “My soulmate.”

“I love you, wife.” His voice is scratchy, husky with sleep and he keeps it low to not disturb the others. Wanting this moment with you before any intrusions. He will have another moment like this with Ellaria as well, needing it. Just in case. “My soulmate.”

Under any other circumstance you might be upset with yourself for having woken him. But there is too much at stake today to lie to yourself that you are not glad to hear his voice. Instead you reach up again and let your hands rest on the line of his jaw. “Good morning, beloved.”

“No lovelier sight to greet the day.” Oberyn smiles as he looks over your still sleep softened features. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“A most pleasant ache,” you admit with a sly grin. There is not one single member of this unusual family that will not be sore today. “Did you sleep well?”

“For the few hours that I have slept, I feel as though I could move mountains.” He hums, smirking at his pun.

“My husband feels very clever this morning.” The pun practically has you rolling your eyes but you lean forward to kiss his lips instead.

“I always feel clever, but for you I will admit that I am going to be happy when this is over.” He accept the kiss and gives you another.

“As will we all.” As confident as you all may be in Oberyn’s abilities, he will not be the only person in that ring today. He is not the only factor at hand. And that alone is terrifying.

“We will be back in this room, making ready to leave this city in just a few hours.” Oberyn reminds you. “Every noble of Dorne who has come will be there as well.”

“It cannot come soon enough.” Pressing one more kiss to his lips, you summon a smile and remind yourself that sewing doubt in him helps no one. You are his wife. His soulmate. His support. And you can clutch Ellaria’s hand in mutual fear when the time comes.

“Would you like to join Ellaria and I in the bath?” He had thought to spend that time with his other soulmate, but he knows you might want to stay close while you can. “She will be helping me dress.”

“She deserves time with you this morning.” Ellaria has known him much longer and loved him much more ferociously, and it would be cruel of you to intrude on her moment with Oberyn. “I will wash and dress with Raeden and Margaery, and we will all present as a unified party to the capital.”

He touches the necklace that the three of you had worn. Raeden’s necklace was equally beautiful and It had made him incredibly possessive when he had seen all of you wearing it. It only made the night even sweeter when you had disappeared together and then reappeared wearing them. “Dorne is stronger with the three of you beside us.” He tells you honestly. For so long, it has been him and Ellaria. Lovers have come and gone but the two of them are no longer just the two of them. He has subtly started thinking of your group as his, just as he is yours.

“Dorne will be stronger when we all return home together.” Having made your promise when he was sleeping, you will not allow yourself to entertain any other possibility aloud this morning. It will do no good, especially not for him.

“Of course it will.” Oberyn smirks, “we will set Dorne on it ear and it will be better for it.”

“The only thing I have ever done that would shock Dorne is make a husband of its prince.” Still though, you smile. Knowing how unbelievable that news will be to many of the people. “And I am honored that you love me as I love you.”

“I do love you.” Oberyn whispers seriously. “Until the end of time and my bones turn to dust.”

“May that be an extraordinarily long time from now,” you murmur, fingers delicately tracing the lines of his face.

“It will be.” The vow is make as he traces your own face gently and the others begin to stir. “When I am too old to sire a child.”

“That will never happen,” Raeden chuckles, his voice hoarse and cracked as he stretches at Oberyn’s back. “You will be making new babies the same age as your great-grandchildren.”

“Especially if I get more of whatever Cal fed us last night.” Oberyn jokes as the man’s eyes open. “My legacy will overrun the Seven Kingdoms.”

“There are three women in this bed who would be glad to bear you more children.” It would be four if Leyth could have children, but there is no use harping on the impossible. “And you, too, Lord Sunstone.”

“It is my hope that one of you is already carrying my child.” He can’t help but look smug at the prospect as he leans in and kisses Oberyn’s shoulder. “So our children can run the gardens together and grow up as close as siblings.”

“That is a wonderful dream,” Margaery murmurs sleepily, already smiling. “When we reach home I will see a Maester right away.”

"It is time." Oberyn grunts softly, hating to pull away from the warm bodies in the bed, but he needs to prepare for his trial by combat battle with the man who had murdered his sister.

******

When the party from Dorne arrives in the stadium with matching emblems, Dornish dress in House Martell's colors, and looks of fierce pride on all of your faces, it is the sound of bells that welcomes and warns you all at once. The leather trim on all of your cloaks and gowns matches Oberyn's armour. The oils rubbed into your skin even smell of Dornish herbs. You, Ellaria, and Margaery are all even wearing your hair in traditionally Dornish styles. There is no question whom you represent, and Oberyn walks proudly out in front with you on one arm and Ellaria on the other as Raeden and Margaery follow close behind. Today is about honor, and no matter what happens, you will all hold your heads high.

Oberyn smirks as Tywin, Cersei and their dower looking entourage arrive. The head of the Lannisters looks as if he’s sucked down a cup of sour wine. Or had walked in on his children fucking. “Look at him.” Oberyn hums as he strides to the tent that has been erected with his weapons already in place on a table. “He looks like he had taken a disappointing cock in his ass.”

You and Ellaria snicker softly at the image Oberyn paints, and walk with him directly to the table. There are chairs in place but you all know that you will be too nervous to sit, making you all the more grateful for the pitcher of wine that has been placed out. This is Cal and Leyth's doing, for there is a small pitcher of fruit juice beside it for you, and you step forward to pour Oberyn a goblet of wine knowing that Cal will have made sure it is Dornish.

“Make sure not to touch the spear, my love.” Oberyn cautions. “It has fangs.” The poison has been applied, although there is another powder he will rub on it before the fight begins.

There is some cheering from spectating peasants who have no idea the enormity of the importance this morning bears for Oberyn. but the ripple of a gasp rips through the crowd when the legendary warrior prince drinks his wine in one gulp and turns to Ellaria to bestow a passionate kiss before giving the same to you.

“I think they might hate you more than me.” Margaery hums as she looks towards the seats where her former family sits. Her father’s face is mottled red and he might snap the arms of the chair he is gripping it so tightly. Tywin’s glare matches Cersei’s and she’s felt the weight of their anger.

"My husband's sense of humor is rubbing off on me," you mumble just loud enough for all of your party to hear. "I could suggest that the prince and Lady Sunstone share a kiss as well."

“That might make my father keel over.” She giggles quietly and hums pleasantly at the thought. “Although I will kiss him as soon as you and Ellaria does after his victory.”

“I should like to see his reaction to that,” Raeden chuckles and leans down to kiss his bride, drawing an even more animated reaction from the crowd.

"It would be one that all of the Seven Kingdoms should see." Oberyn chuckles himself, his eyes sliding towards the Lannisters and he smirks.

The bells cease their tolling only moments before Tyrion Lannister appears with guards flanking him on either side. "Looks like very light armour," he observes when he is hurried under the same tent as the Dornish party to stand beside his champion. Clearly, Tyrion is concerned.

Oberyn breaks away from his kiss with Ellaria, annoyed by the criticism. "I like to move around."

The youngest Lannister is obviously unamused with his answer because he continues to grumble at him. "You could at least wear a helmet." Oberyn picks up the goblet that you have refilled and starts to drink. "You shouldn't drink before a fight." Tyrion huffs.

Motioning towards the man in chains, Obery quips, "You learn this during your years in the fighting pits?" He looks down at the cup. "I always drink before a fight."

"It could get you killed." Tyrion reminds him flatly, looking around at the party surrounding him. At the support he has. It would be useless to admit that he envies the man for being so adored, and instead he grumbles again. "It could get me killed."

Oberyn sets down his cup and looks at the little man with certainty. "Today is not the day I die." He assures him, aware that the poison will guarantee his victory against the Mountain. Ellaria hums happily, sliding her hand over his leathers and looking towards you with a smirk. She knows both of you find his confidence sexy and right now, all of you need to believe that statement.

"Have faith in your Champion, Lord Tyrion," you remind him, as the crowd begins to roar again. It is louder this time, more excited than merely intrigued, and you turn to watch Gregor Clegane himself - the Mountain - walking into the arena. So that is why they call him a Mountain, you think to yourself with instant terror. And you know Ellaria is just as scared when she grips your hand tightly. "You're going to fight that?" She asks Oberyn with wide eyes.

Oberyn swaggers over to the edge of the table and leans against it, looking over at where the Mountain has made his appearance. "I'm going to kill that." Ellaria's eyes are fixed on him. "He's the biggest man I've ever seen." Her grip tightens, nearly crushing your fingers as her own worry spills over the edge of her calm facade. Oberyn will do as he pleases, he has for years and she has never truly worried, but that? That is a foe that he might not be able to beat.

Bending over the wash basin, Oberyn cleans his hands of the wine. "Size does not matter when you are flat on your back."

"Thank the gods." You and Tyrion manage to murmur at the same time.

A horn sounds its simple fanfare, calling the combatants and the audience to order. Grand Maester Pycelle has appeared on the edge of the ring and though he is surely doing his best to be heard throughout the stadium, his aged voice is not powerful. "In the sight of gods and men, we gather to ascertain the guilt or innocence of this..." he stumbles, not quite knowing what descriptor to use until he settles on the usual one. "Man...Tyrion Lannister. May the Mother grant them mercy. May the Father give them such justice as they deserve. May the Warrior guide the hand of our champion–" He is cut off when Tywin grows impatient and motions for the horn to blow again, ultimately bowing lamely and shuffling off to the stands once more.

Oberyn turns, pulling Ellaria into his arms and kissing her passionately, before she steps back and you take her place. Every feeling, every touch and mark on your body that belongs to him is poured into the much too short kiss. His heart starting to pound in anticipation.

Ellaria has one of Oberyn's hands in hers and you have the other as the sound of Gregor Clegane's immense sword leaving its sheath can be heard across the ring. "Don't leave us alone in this world." She entreats Oberyn with a note of desperation that is so unlike her but so like this situation. Realistically, would either of you be truly alone? Of course not. You would have each other, if nothing else. But formally? Legally? You could be denied everything without him there to provide for you – and that is what terrifies her. That everyone in this tent is under his protection and his alone until the time you set foot on Dornish sand.

"Never." He can promise her that. Without hesitation or contemplation. He would never leave any of you alone if he could help it.

As soon as Ellaria lets go of his hand, you pull Oberyn into your arms and place the hand of his that you had been holding on the curve of your stomach. The nature of the gesture is unmistakable, and as the announcement of your pregnancy had not yet been made, a gasp ripples through the crowd. But that is precisely what you were hoping for. While the people of King's Landing are murmuring in shock, they do not notice you slipping the sheath of an extra dagger under the folds of your husband's leather armour. "For Elia," you whisper to him, giving the sheathed dagger a quick tug to make sure that it is secure before you kiss him once more. "And for your family. Be swift, my love."

There is a quick wink towards Raeden and the squire that has been a part of Oberyn's travels and will attend him during the fight, tosses him the spear. The lightweight, yet sturdy wood feels perfectly balanced in his hands and he wastes no time twirling it around in his hand. Showing off is part of his very nature and part of his strategy. He wants the crowd to cheer for him. It's obvious they do when he spins around for the final time and grins up at the covered tents where Twyin and his whore daughter try to look unimpressed.

From where you stand under your tent at the edge of the ring, you and Ellaria are already on edge as you watch Oberyn showboat and the look of disinterested murderousness in the Mountain's eyes deepens. The crowd cheering pushes your heart up into your throat because you know that it bolsters him – he feeds off the energy of those around him in almost every circumstance. This one is no different.

Turning to face the man who had murdered his beloved sister, the grin on his face is satisfied, eager to address the man who would confess his crimes to the crowd. "Have they told you who I am?" He demands, wanting to know if he remembers his sister, or if the years and his numerous crimes for the Lannisters have dimmed his memory. The Mountain seems unimpressed. "Some dead man." He tells him right before he lunges with a swing of his broadsword.

The first few strikes sound terribly, the clash of metal and strong wood echoing through the space like taunts. Every strike seems to pierce your heart rather than deter Oberyn's confidence, and if that is how it must be then you will gladly absorb every blow.

"I am the brother of Elia Martell." He announces, keeping his voice loud but not shouting into the stands because he's addressing the man in front of him. "Do you know why I have come all the way to this stinking, shit-pile of a city?" He asks, squaring his body in front of the giant of a man. "For you." Instantly, he crouches and attacks, swinging his spear and nearly catching Clegane under his heavy helmet.

Oberyn swings his staff elegantly. Of course the weapon was molded for him but he has also molded himself to the weapon – and Clegane's lumbering and grunts only serve to make him look inelegant compared to the smaller, much nimbler form of the Red Viper. Even though you gasp when the Mountain lunges, you cannot tear your eyes away. Oberyn slides backward, deftly avoiding the attack as he continues to taunt his foe.

"I'm going to hear you confess before you die." This time Oberyn isn't facing the beast in front of him, instead his words go up into the crowd with a ripping of confusion from the spectators. Tywin's jaw is so tight that it could shatter if he clenches his teeth together. Turning back to Gregor Clegane, he makes his accusations. "You raped my sister. You murdered her. You killed her children." There is hatred in his eyes and swings his spear up. "Say it now and we can make this quick."

Your hand tightens around Ellaria's as you watch the growling Mountain lunge at Oberyn and the clanging of their weapons rings through the stadium. Feeling their presence at your back, you cannot tear your eyes away from the ring to look to them, but you know Raeden and Margaery are just behind you. Oberyn was right - of course he was - it is his speed and his dexterity that keeps him ahead of Clegane.

When he hits the Mountain across his back with the spear, he knocks the man's helmet off. Revealing his disgusting face to the crowd. "Say it. You raped her." Oberyn spits out, deflecting another attack from the other warrior. "You murdered her." He can still sling his accusations as he spins around, although the Mountain is just shouting as he lunges for Oberyn again. Again, his spear is used to push the sword's momentum down to the ground and he looks into the eyes of his sister's killer. "You killed her children."

The accusation is repeated with every swing, every lunge, and every blow. Oberyn is a blur in the ring as the lumbering Mountain tries to keep up, but the Red Viper of Dorne is too quick for his reflexes and heavier armor. Once he manages to knock Oberyn toward the ground but the prince only springs up to his feet again seconds later – the sharp intake of breath under your tent is loud enough for other to hear but still none of you can take your eyes off of the fight.

His rage manifests as amusement, a smile on his face, although it doesn't reach his eyes. The fight has gone beyond playful and taunting. The years of fury have built up and the Mountain knocks the spear out of his hand, knocking him to the ground.

The crowd may cheer as Oberyn flips out of the way, his training making him lithe and athletic while you and Ellaria swallow shaky gasps and clutch each other's hands impossibly harder. Tyrion may hyperventilate at any moment, watching his champion be so performative, but he says nothing. He knows that you and everyone else under this tent are terrified for the life of the Prince of Dorne, not for the life of the Imp of Casterly Rock.

The next spear is tossed to Oberyn and his attacks turn more vicious. Even as he's sent down to his knees, he is bouncing back. This time after a flurry of attacks and deflecting, the giant grabs Oberyn and tosses him across the combat area.

By this time you count three wounds that the poisoned blade has made in the Mountain's flesh, but you know nothing of poisons. How long will it take to begin killing him? How will it kill him? Will it weaken him immensely, or simply slow him down? Was there even enough poison to do Oberyn any good in the moment? You flinch when he is thrown to the ground but Ellaria holds to your fast, urging you not to look away. The two of you have promised to survive this fight side by side and that is not a promise either of you can break.

Stomping away from the Mountain as he tries to regain his footing, Oberyn's fervor spirals. "You raped her!" He shouts, "You murdered her!" He watches as the other man attacks again, spinning around and this time, he digs the hook of the spear into the back of the Mountain's heel. Ripping open flesh and making him scream in agony. Panting as Clegane drops to his knees. Gripping his spear, he screams again. "You killed her children!" Running forward, Oberyn leaps up and drives the spear into the Mountain's chest, making blood spurt from his chest.

There is a moment where people almost smile. Tyrion and Jamie Lannister both look like they are about to, mostly out of shock, and Ellaria almost laughs in relief. You and Margaery make identical sobbing sounds that are halfway like laughs, and even Raeden blows out a long breath. Clegane is flat on his back, and you could swear that you see him twitch while Oberyn circles him with growling anger.

To add insult to injury, Oberyn leaves the spear in the man's chest. "Wait. Are you dying?" He asks. "No. No. No." He growls as he paces. "You can't die yet. You haven't confessed." He reaches over and yanks the spear out of his chest, assured that poison has worked through the man's body. He will die in agony and yet it will still not be good enough. "Say it." He resumes marching around him as he groans on the ground. "Say her name. Elia Martell." As his blood boils, his mind spins in a murderous rage. "You raped her. You killed her children." The spectators are quiet as his voice rings out of the seats. "Elia Martell." He points at Tywin Lanniser sitting on his cushioned chair. "Who gave you the order?" He looks back at the Mountain and then back at Tywin. "Who gave you the order?! Say her name! You raped her! You murdered her!" Around and around, Oberyn circles the fallen man, his voice climbing higher ever time he speaks. "You killed her children." Nothing matters but this. Nothing. Not Tyrion. He had never really cared about the little man's guilt or innocence. He cares about his revenge.

Oberyn circles the giant, roaring his accusations and demanding that Clegane confess. Once - just once - he manages to look up to the tent where all of you are watching, and the unmistakable pride in Ellaria's expression and the firm determination in yours makes him smile with grim satisfaction. But he inches just a hair too close to the dying man in the middle of the ring. Clegane's hand comes out and snatches at Oberyn's ankle, sending the legendary Viper to ground once more. Tyrion panics, eyes widening; and you and Ellaria gasp out loud. The Mountain is moving and Oberyn is on his back.

Please, Gods...please do not take him like this...

There is a split second where the future flashes in front of his eyes. One that he would not be present for. His lover becoming jaded and bitter, obsessing over revenge for his death and oddly enough, he does not want that. His Sand Snakes being killed by the bastard Lions in a vain attempt to find justice for their father before they are ready. Raeden being run through in a battle to get you and his heir out of the city. It's not above Tywin Lanniser and he knows that the man had seen the way you had brought his hand to your stomach. Then you, his lovely wife. Carrying his child. The horrible idea of you suffering the same fate as his sister. Perhaps even at the hands of the same man.

His hands flail for a moment as the weight of the man presses him down into the stone. "Elia Martell." He growls, hands reaching for Oberyn's head and the Prince's eyes squeeze shut as the gloved thumbs cover them and start to press. Oberyn screams, the sound pure agony as he touches the dagger you had tucked into his waist and he knows that confession would be the best he would ever get. Not before the man seriously damages his eyes or kills him. His pride, his arrogance had landed him on his back, the poison not killing him fast enough. "E-Elia." He gasps out, wrapping his fingers around the hilt and pulling it out, shoving it up through the bottom of the Mountain's chin and into his head as hard as he can. "Elia Martell." Oberyn chokes out. "Of Dorne." Gregor Clegane's eyes widen and he gurgles, blood spewing out of his mouth onto the prince's face. "This is for her."

The collection gasp of shock from the assembled audience cannot compete with the way you and Ellaria scream. The fierce shrieks coming deep inside both of you when all you can see of Oberyn is that the man you both love - your soulmate - is flat on his back beneath the Mountain's murderous bulk. Raeden has to push Margaery backward into Cal's grip so he can wrap one arm around you and Ellaria, barely managing to stop you from storming the ring yourselves to finish the Mountain with your bare hands. He knows you would manage it somehow. That together there could be nothing from stopping you and Ellaria if you got your hands on Gregor Clegane.

You struggle against Raeden in tandem, screaming Oberyn's name, until you see a flash of metal against the late morning sun and another flood of blood. It is impossible to tell whose blood it is at first, until a look of relief washes briefly over Jamie Lannister's face.

"Oberyn!" Prying Raeden's hand open, you sprint for the center of the ring as the Mountain's lifeless body is shoved aside to reveal a triumphant Prince of Dorne has, indeed, survived.

He has survived.

Avenged his sister.

Won the day.

And you pull him into your arms just a moment before Ellaria reaches his other side so that both of you can help him to his feet.

"The gods have made their will known." Tywin Lannister's voice shakes with anger and disbelief, but the results are indisputable. "Tyrion Lannister, in the name of King Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of His Name...you have been found innocent of the murder of King Joffrey." He sounds as if he could throw something, but you barely hear the declaration. Oberyn is standing on his own two feet with his arms around you and Ellaria, and that is all that matters.

Panting and breathless, Oberyn absorbs the roar of the crowd, but is doesn't mean anything to him. Neither does the effusive gratitude of a near sobbing Tyrion as the guards unlock his chains, setting him free. All that matters is that he is still breathing and you and Ellaria are in his arms. He surges forward, pressing his lips to Ellaria's and then yours in front of the crowd as Raeden and Margaery stand to the side. His need for justice has been quenched. While the Mountain did not implicate Tywin, he can live with the fact that her murderer has breathed his last breath and all of King's Landing now knows.

"Let us leave this fucking place." He decides breathlessly, grinning at you and jostling Ellaria closer to him. "Never to return. Dorne calls us home."

______

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vivilove-jonsa · 6 months

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The Stranger's Bride

For Day 2 of the Jonsa Halloween Event: The Stranger - Pumpkin - Full Moon

(This is just a little something because I'm tired of outlining the next book tonight and the spooky season brought this to mind❤️)

It's nearly nightfall. Sansa wishes they hadn’t waited so late for the ceremony. The moon hides behind the clouds like a child playing peek-a-boo, eager to spoil her surprise. She breathes in deeply and checks her reflection one last time. A picture-perfect bride with auburn hair and a fragile, haunted beauty stares back. He will be eager to bed her once the feast is over and the Wolf will be eager to feast in turn. She’s been dutiful all her life but, tonight, duty dies.

The music swells as the massive doors of the sept open. All guests turn to watch her coming down the aisle in her ivory and grey cloak, embroidered with the direwolf, the symbol of the Stark Family. Every man in her family has the beast tattooed over his heart from the age of sixteen when he swears the oath. So silly. As if a tattoo makes a man into a fearsome beast. What does her groom have tattooed over his heart? A dragon? Perhaps so though she knows he is the son of her long-dead aunt.

Outwardly, this looks like a happy occasion but the bride knows better. The men are all armed and ready to spill blood at a moment’s notice should something go awry. And, the women present either look at her with pity (if they have sense) or envy (if they have none.) One thing is agreed though - they all think she’ll be lucky to survive one year as his wife.

Sansa ignores the stares, holding her head high as she walks with measured grace, letting her blue eyes sweep over the images of the gods above the altar. She could relate to the Maiden’s plight or seek the Mother’s comfort or Crone’s wisdom today.

But there stands the Stranger.

How fitting when she is to wed a stranger today, the ruthless new underworld boss of the South, Jon Targaryen. They say he is a cold-blooded killer. It's rumored he can't be killed. Nonsense. All men die.

When she dares look at him, his dark eyes burn with fire, reminding her that his family’s favorite method for eliminating their enemies is burning them alive. Gruesome but effective. The Starks prefer the old ways.

“He will never harm you,” Father had said when he’d told her of the arrangement he had made with the now-deceased Rhaegar Targaryen.

“There is little you can do about it if he does.” Father knows it to be true even if he prefers to pretend otherwise. She’ll be his wife and under his power. At least, that’s what they all think.

“A marriage between our houses will bring peace. It’s better for business.”

Business. That is the name of the game when you’re born into the mob. Arranged marriages are still popular in their world, a way to broker peace. The Northern Families had needed peace badly enough for her father to barter his oldest daughter away.

Through stained glass, the moon winks at her from behind the clouds and that familiar, savage hunger unfurls. Not yet, not yet. She clutches her tummy, hoping to mask it as maidenly nerves.

Father grips her hand a little tighter, the tiniest sign he’s not the emotionless ice man everyone believes him to be. Is it a desire to comfort her that prompts him to do it? A warning to her not to run? Or fear of what may happen this night?

The endless walk to her groom is over before she knows it and her father's protection ends. It's fine. She can protect herself.

The septon starts to speak and the rustling behind them tells her the guests are taking their seats. What a show they may have if those clouds can’t contain the moon a little longer.

But a cold, scarred hand slips into hers, drawing her from her murderous thoughts. The darkness of his eyes is not as profound up close. The grey reminds her more of her father’s with flecks of lilac visible in the candlelight.

His lips twist into a wry but undeniably fetching grin. She would prefer if he’d been plainer. No other appetites would be raised if that were so.

“Good evening, wife.” They are the first words he has ever spoken to her. They feel like a caress meant to calm.

“Good evening,” she murmurs in reply. She is well known for her courtesy after all. He is handsome. Perhaps she will let him bed her before she allows the wolf to-

“You smell…” He lets the words hang and she wonders if he means to insult her here at the altar as they are being wed. Her eyes snap to his and those mesmerizing eyes have changed again back to something dark and unfathomable when he finally finishes the sentence. “Delicious.”

And, it’s then that she hears it in his voice, that rumbling growl his civil mask can’t contain as the moon emerges from the clouds. She knows that sound like her own heartbeat. His thumb sweeps across her wrist, setting her pulse to pounding and drawing an answering growl from her own throat. How curious.

"You smell... dangerous," she says, testing.

He smiles, showing her his sharp teeth. Oh. Her groom is a stranger to her but they share an unexpected kinship.

Old Nan had always said she would recognize another with the dark gift without ever uttering a sound. She was right. What an interesting discovery to make on one's wedding day. She can't wait for the wedding night.

#jonsa #jonsa halloween #jonsa halloween 2023 #jonsa fic

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zablife · 6 months

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In Blood and Bond

Author's Note: Written for @peakyswritings 2K celebration. Congrats again, darling! I hope you enjoy this short, but spooky tale 🕷️ Aurora Changretta is my OC and Luca's wife.

Warnings: vampire AU, dub con, mention of blood

“You make bad decisions when you’re grieving,” Polly warned her nephew, not to be cruel, but because he needed reminding when the odds were against them. One mistake could bring ruin upon the entire family and they were already in a precarious position, hunted like animals by the Changrettas. It was true that Tommy wasn't thinking clearly since Grace’s murder, leaving traces of himself all over the city for Luca to follow in a dangerous dance of death. It would continue until Tommy dared take the one thing forbidden even to him.

He noticed her the first night she arrived, her intoxicating scent wafting through the air in torturous waves that beckoned him like a siren song. Drawn to her window with the cool evening breeze, he watched her through the lace curtains, mouth agape as she threw the blankets from her voluptuous form in restless fits. She must have known when he was near because her nightmares were particularly vivid, causing a rush of blood to course through her veins, pumping her heart until she thought it might burst. Waking with flushed cheeks, she called out for someone to help her, but her husband was never there. He was traipsing through the streets of Birmingham to hunt monsters, leaving her alone and terrified.

On the second full moon, Tommy could no longer bear the sound of her cries or the desperate need to feel the warmth of her soft skin. Without her husband to protect her, she was ripe for the taking and he had only to grasp the very fruit he desired once he made up his mind. In an instant he was upon her, eyes lulling her into a hypnotic daze. He scooped her body into his arms, feeling the crush of her breasts against his chest, her hair falling over his shoulder so closely he could smell the lavender of her nightly bath. John and Arthur’s combined strength could not stop their brother’s self destructive ways that night as he whisked her away to Arrow House, intent on having her all to himself.

In the comfort of his mansion he drained her body of the life he’d longed to savor all those nights watching from the shadows. He took his time, cradling her delicate neck and stroking over the veins in her wrist, never wanting their time to end. But as he hovered over her weakened body, the faint echo of her pulse dying on his ears, he watched her arm reach for him. In that moment he knew she wanted to be free of a life of neglect and pain, to be his forever. Without hesitation, he bid her drink from him and watched her grasp his muscular arm tightly as she sucked in unabashed hunger.

It was a thrilling moment for Tommy when he sat back to watch the transformation take place. He had only witnessed it on a few occasions in his lifetime and this was the rarest bond of them all because she had been made from his own blood. He swelled with pride at the thought of his conquest who still clutched to his side, blood seeping down her chin. If Luca wanted him struck down, he would need all his prayers and courage to do so for he would now have to drive his stake through them both. Aurora belonged to a new master.

---------------

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x OC #Tommy Shelby #Cillian Murphy

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celticbotanart · 6 months

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ALRIGHT, since Halloween is just around the corner and this blog is ALSO about sharing and talking about my full-time hyperfixation (music), I want to make some recommendations of "unusual" or just unknown songs that very well fit the theme! I've mentioned before that I love making thematic playlists and that I have rules for them everything (it's serious shit!!), so I wanna share some of the songs featured in my "Ecclectic Halloween" playlist. The two basic rules I applied for that playlist are:

The song MUST include anything supernatural, spooky, bizarre, "murder/serial killer", classic creature and so on

The song can be of ANY genre; is it metal? Prog? Disco? Electronic? Soundtrack? COOL, ALL ARE WELCOME!

Let's get started!

1 - Rainbow - Tarot Woman

youtube

As an unapologetic 70s dad rock advocate, I HAVE to start with one of my fave bands of the genre! The song begins with a DOPE synth/keyboard solo, and then iconic Dio (the one Dio from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure was named after) comes in with a bunch of cryptic imagery, like the predictions the tarot woman is telling him as she turns the cards side on:

Something in the air Tells me to beware - No, no, no! Her love is like a knife She'll carve away your life - So go, go, go! Beware of a place, a smile on a bright shiny face I'll never return, how do you know? Tarot woman! But I don't know, I don't know!

2 - Blackmore's Night - I Guess It Doesn't Matter Anymore

youtube

From the same breed of the first song, cause Blackmore was the guitar player / composer for Rainbow - except that Blackmore's Night is a project he made way later (late 90s), with his wife Candice Night, who sings all the songs and composes with him. This song is about the CLASSIC tale of someone giving a lift to a mysterious woman they found wandering at the side of the road; when they get to the place she wanted to go and asks to leave, the driver turns around! And the lady, she's suddenly gone!!!!!

Standing in the rain, the cold and angry rain In a long white dress, a girl without a name She stood beneath the light, Glowing like a candle bright I guess it doesn't matter anymore (...) Finally she spoke, 'come pull off the road' Saying she was headin' home I turned and she was gone, I was all alone

3- Loreena McKennitt - The Bonny Swans

youtube

You might be asking: "Oriel, what the fuck, why is soft spoken-christmas songs-traditional folk medieval instruments Loreena McKennitt in this playlist at all??? With a song named like THAT?? What is so scary about pretty glorified ducks anyway?" - And to that I'll say right off the bat this is the most metal song in the entire playlist, and I say this unironically. This song is inspired by an old ballad and it tells about a girl who was drowned by her own sister out of jealousy of her betrothed; the sister kills her so she can have the lad for herself. It already has murder, as you can tell - but it gets WORSE, as the body of the drowned girl floats down the river and is found by a miller's daughter; a passing-by bard then uses the dead girl's bones and golden hair to make a harp that plays on it's own, possessed by the dead girl's spirit???? She (as the harp) asks to be taken to the court, the bard takes her, and AS A CURSED HARP MADE OF BONES the dead girl outs her sister as her murderer, in front of the entire family and the court. Look. If this isn't METAL AF, I don't know what ELSE can be. The "bonny swans" from the title comes from the comparison Loreena makes of the pale girl's body floating in the water, to swans swimming along. kkkkkkkkkkk JESUS.

He made harp pins of her fingers fair With a hey ho and a bonny o He made harp strings of her golden hair The swans swim so bonny o He made a harp of her breast bone With a hey ho and a bonny o And straight it began to play alone The swans swim so bonny o He brought it to her father's hall With a hey ho and a bonny o And there was the court, assembled all The swans swim so bonny o He laid the harp upon a stone With a hey ho and a bonny o And straight it began to play lone The swans swim so bonny o

4- Sting - Moon Over Bourbon Street

youtube

Probably one of the most fun songs in this, because it's a song written by Sting, inspired by Anne Rice's "Interview With the Vampire"! The song is under Louis' PoV, and he laments his current condition as a vampire and also as a man of god, as he wanders through New Orleans's streets. This Sting's live performance of this song (the live in Berlin, 2010) is my favorite by far - there's a whole ass epic orchestra and even a theremin! hehe

I pray everyday to be strong For I know what I do must be wrong Oh you'll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet While there's a moon over Bourbon Street It was many years ago that I became what I am I was trapped in this life like an innocent lamb Now I can never show my face at noon And you'll only see me walking by the light of the moon

5- AQUA - Halloween

youtube

Yes, THAT AQUA - turns out they DO have more songs other than Barbie Girl, and they actually slap - I was there in the 90s, when the Deep Eurodance Magic was written. I LOVE this one because it has such a fun vibe, and obviously, inspired by the "Halloween" movie franchise - Lene plays as the girl alone at night who receives a call from René, playing as the psycho who's after her. They even act that scene at the begining of the song dsjfhjsdgf so cool!

The sound of shoes, a shadow that moves Something odd is tic tac ticking Someone's in here, I'm so full of fear The telephone is ringing!!

6- E Nomine - Das Tier In Mir

youtube

ONE OF MY ALL-TIME FAVES IN THIS PLAYLIST. E Nomine was (?) a German electronic music project who DARED to mix in dark techno/trance beats AND CHANTS IN LATIN, as this deep-voiced dude sings/borderline-raps in German. ITS HARD TO EXPLAIN, BUT I PROMISE, ITS SO SO SO DOPE. They also sang about all sorts of religious / dark fantasy themes - they have an entire album based on the Bible, which I promise, they made it a LOT MORE RAD AND COOL than it sounds; and another album about the supernatural and all kinds of creatures, like vampires, ghosts, werewolves, demons. "Das Tier in Mir" or "The Animal In Me" is their "werewolf" song - it starts off with this kid singing in Latin about the forest, and the moonlight, and the song goes on with Deep Voice Dude singing under the werewolf's perspective; it even features a dramatic transformation sequence!!

[Latin]The forest is hidden, in the moonlight, My home is the forest In the starlight (...) Dark clouds and dark thoughts, The full-moon night smashes my barriers down. The animal desire that I massacre comes in me. I feel this bloodlust here and now. Deep in the night the twinkling stars, A sweet smell is drawing me into the distance. But careful if my passion gets aroused quite gently in the night And the hunter wakes up in me! (Translation from here - it's rather clunky, but that's the gist of it!)

7- E Nomine - Mitternacht

youtube

Yep! Another one by E Nomine, BECAUSE THEY JUST SLAP TOO HARD. "Mitternacht", or "Midnight" is pretty much about the Witching Hour, all the spirits comes out when the bell strikes midnight!! This one is SUCH A FAVORITE of mine because it sounds EXACTLY what a DJ would play as vampires dressed in fancy, old outfits and masks waltz around in a haunted, opulent manor

When the gondolas are in mourning and the dead's lament resounds horror is breathing down your neck When the clock starts striking cold thick fog is touching you gently ...midnight! [Latin] midnight, dark night, cruelty of the soul the bell is ringing twelve times ...midnight! (Translation from here - same from previous song, kinda clunky but we get it)

8- Dead or Alive - Something In My House

youtube

Another classic banger with the catchiest fucking tune ever, by You-Spin-Me-Right-Round-Baby-Right-Round Dead or Alive, sung by ICONIC genderfucker wizard Pete Burns (the Gender Envy of him in this video is real). I have to admit, this one is SLIGHTLY cheating on my rules, cause the "something in my house" in question is not anything supernatural - it's a metaphor for a gone-wrong relationship, lol. Ngl, I think this is kinda fucking brilliant. But like, the spooky, Halloween-y vibes are all there nonetheless: wolves are howling, Pete is singing in an old castle and looking 200% like a vampire. Even if I'm cheating a little, it still fits!

There is something in my house - my house, It's just a ghost of a long long dead affair, There is something in my house - my house, I just keep a hearing you runnin' on up my stairs, But you're not there

9- League of Legends - Fiddlesticks, The Harbinger of Doom

youtube

Finally, some soundtracks! I don't play LoL, but I absolutely love some of the character's themes, and Fiddlestick's is one of them! For what I've got, Fiddlesticks is like this ancient, nightmare-ish Freddie Krugger-like entity, and BOY, does the song reflect exactly THAT. It SOUNDS like a horror movie, and I'm obsessed about it!!

When fields lie calm and wind stands still (Run home, run home) As the crows make night of the fading Sun (Hide now, hide now) When the trees do bow, as if they weep (Stay down, stay down) Though its light beckons forth, a melody calls out (Too late, too late)

10- The Alan Parson's Project - The Cask of Amontillado

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And!!! Last but not least!! Closing this playlist with THIS ULTIMATE DAD PROG ROCK BANGER, which as you can see, is inspired by Poe's tale "The Cask of Amontillado". In fact, the entire album where that song comes from, "Tales of Mystery and Imagination - Edgar Allan Poe", is inspired by his work. Yeah there are also songs on "The Raven" and "The Fall of the House of Usher" too for example! It's just so cool! But "The Cask of Amontillado" is by far my favorite, specially with the instrumental part at the end, ughhhh <3

By the last breath of the four winds that blow I'll have revenge upon Fortunato Smile in his face I'll say "come let us go I've a cask of Amontillado" (...) You who are rich and whose troubles are few May come around to see my point of view What price the Crown of a King on his throne When you're chained in the dark all alone

This is definitely a long ass post, and I really had to cut it even shorter bc of Tumblr's dumbass video limit, but that's alright. I might even put up a part II, hehe I hope you like the Halloween-y songs recs!!

#music posts #halloween #long posts

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bracketsoffear · 10 months

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Columbo (Columbo) "A shrewd but inelegant blue-collar homicide detective whose trademarks include his shambling manner, rumpled beige raincoat, cigar and off-putting, relentless investigative approach. Columbo was the master of perp sweating. Though he generally settles on his horse from the outset, he never lets on, instead worming his way into their confidence via fawning adulation, begging their assistance as he "solves" the case. Usually he forces them to weave a huge web of lies until he can finally pull the thread — justified because he's always right. Without letting on that he suspects the perp, he'd have long, seemingly innocuous conversations with the murderer who would get more and more frustrated as they tried to get this annoying man to go away, and thus already be off-balance when the topic turned to holes in their cover-up. Columbo's favorite move was seeming to leave once the suspect thought they'd thrown him off the scent, then turning around and adding "Just one more thing," knocking them on their heels. He's overly nice to people in a bloodhound sort of way; he convinces people that he's just a country bumpkin more interested in whatever 'hat' the villain wears than solving the crime, only to reveal in the end a cold detachment and clinical mind that the bumpkin persona allowed free rein. He plays with the feelings of the criminals, making them like him (more often than not) or at least pity him and drop their guard, or he pushes them subtly and continuously to the point where they break. He attributes his success to merely working harder, thinking longer, and looking closer than anyone else would. However, Columbo has solved every case put before him onscreen (he sometimes claims that he only solves about a third total, but this could well be part of the humility act) and hasn't gotten his man only once — in which case the perp was dying anyway. In true classic mystery fashion, each episode wraps up with the Lieutenant confronting his prey with his train of deduction, culminating in the vital clue; the perp may not confess, but they know, and the viewer knows, they have been beaten. He also possesses an encyclopedic knowledge on some subjects, which he usually hides, and has explained to colleagues that his wife believes there is "something wrong" with him."

Cecil Palmer (Welcome to Night Vale) "I know he won last time, but I honestly think he deserves it. He is seemingly all knowing about current events in the town and sometimes reports them in a similar way to fear statements. I don't pay enough attention to all the lore to know exactly how he knows all the goings-on all the time, so it seems spooky to me. Though there is no canon description of him having a third eye he is often depicted with one, and a huge eye is a part of the logo. Being watched is also a theme throughout Nightvale, with the government agents who are always outside your house, or the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home"

#eye poll #the magnus archives #the eye #poll #columbo #welcome to night vale #wtnv

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