Jonathan Bailey + Fellow Travelers Vs Bridgerton S3

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader 

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | When Cregan Stark begins his search for a wife, some hidden feelings come to light.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6,484(Idk what came over me okay!?)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mature Content-Explicit Descriptions Of Sex | Friends to lovers, Longing and pining, Love confessions, Possessive!Cregan, Smut: Piv, Oral(fem receiving), Clit biting, Hair pulling, Multiple orgasms, Biting/bruising(VERY MILD), Wife/marriage kink, Size difference. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I did not anticipate Cregan Stark pulling me out of my writing slump. But everyone say thank you Cregan! For those of you waiting for it, Hea Mēre is still coming. I just wanted to post something since I haven’t put any new works out here lately. Hea Mēre is coming SOON, though, I promise.

masterlist

Word had spread that the Warden of the North was in need of a wife. And so the great hall of Winterfell was now a symphony of merry music and proud spoken promises. Nearly every great house in the north flocked to Winterfell’s gates one after the other. Some lords arrived with nearly their whole households in tow. Some only brought their daughters. 

Cregan, ever the loyal man, had welcomed them to his home as any good liege lord would. Demanding a feast be thrown in the honor of northern unity. 

The revels had been at their height for hours now, and you took in as much as you could handle. As the night wore on, though, you found a need for respite. The boisterous laughter and clambering of drunk men was a muffled sound to your ears now. Out here in the chilly corridors, only the howling wind could truly be heard. 

It had been close to a year since Cregan took the seat of his late father. Since then, the north has rallied behind him. Came to pledge their words of fealty and wish their lord prosperity. And now they came again to offer him their daughters, sisters, and nieces. You knew he would take a wife at some point—some point very soon. And because he was a northman through and through, he would marry a northern woman. One from a great house with a long history and ample influence. 

For some reason, all your preparation for this moment had done nothing to aid you when it actually came.

The wind swirled around you like a restless spirit, forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself to stave off the chill. You could just go back inside, but all the warmth in the world could not tempt you. Witnessing all the eligible ladies of the north look upon Cregan with hungry and hopeful eyes was an unnecessary cruelty you didn’t wish on yourself. It wasn’t as though you could fault them for it. He was Lord of Winterfell, and as such, he was obligated to take a wife. What woman wouldn’t want that to be them? 

You yourself had yearned for it for as long as you could recall. Practically growing up alongside him, youthful companionship had reformed as enrapturing affection. There was not a day where you did not cross paths with him, often purposely carving out time to spend together. You were always available to each other; living within the same keep had made it quite impossible to be apart. 

Your father was Master of Arms; being a second son from house Cerwyn, he was granted knighthood in his youth. The late Lord Rickon Stark had appointed him as Master of Arms a handful of years before you were born. 

Your father had trained Cregan as a boy. The memory of first meeting him was still clear as glass even after all these years. 

The snow was still cool against your cheeks as you sat atop a railing, observing your father working with the boys during one particular day. You had snuck away from your Septa some time ago, preferring the chilled air outside to the stuffy heat indoors. That, and your hands ached from all the needlework you’d been made to practice. 

Cregan had caught sight of you almost immediately. Smirking at your attempt to conceal yourself from searching eyes. You smiled back at him, pressing a small finger to your lips silently, asking him to keep your secret. 

And he did. He said nothing to your father during the training session. Pretending you weren’t there at all. It wasn’t until your father caught you himself that you were sent back inside with clear instructions to apologize to your Septa for running off. 

It was an act of fate that later that day you and Cregan crossed paths in one of the winding halls of Winterfell. In a second long bout of courage, you stopped him to say a proper thank you for not ratting you out. 

The rest was simply history. 

“I was wondering where you’d run off to.” The low rumble of a voice invaded your troubled thoughts. 

The sound of footsteps thudded against the old wood. You turned to see Cregan rounding the corner, his slate eyes resting on you. The flickering torchlight caught the contours of his face, and for a moment, the weight of his presence made your heart race.

“Why are you all the way out here?” He asked, his deep candace rolling over you like thunder. 

“I just needed some air.” You answered, hoping he’d deem it a suitable reply. “The festivities got a bit overwhelming.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a thrill of familiar fondness down your spine. “Overwhelming is one way to put it. I can hardly hear myself think in there.” He stepped closer, the warmth of his body casting like a shield against the cold. “But I am glad I’ve found you.”

You nodded, not catching the implicating tone in his voice. You dropped your gaze to the frost-kissed ground. “I suppose everyone is eager to make an impression tonight. Especially the ladies.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, laced with a bitterness that you were not used to hearing from your own voice. 

He noted the sour tone in your words. He himself admitted to being caught offhand at the unexpected abundance of marriage proposals. When he had alluded to wanting to look for a wife, he hadn’t anticipated this. Truthfully, the only woman he would want to wed was standing beside him. In the years of closeness with you, you had unknowingly taken his heart right from him. He recognized the fact that he hadn’t owned his heart for some time now. He had given it to you long before he even realized it. 

If he was certain you would accept, he’d have asked your hand in marriage instead of entertaining half the northern population.

“Eager indeed.” He replied, his tone shifting to something more serious. “It is all rather…overwhelming.” He sighed, echoing your words from before. 

You disliked seeing him so burdened. In the months since he took the role of Warden, though, that oppressed look marred his handsome features far too frequently for your liking. 

“You need not rush into anything.” You consoled, wanting to take his strains and carry them yourself.

He grunted, resting his hands over the pommel of Ice. The great longsword hanging at his side. “Would you have me keep my people in suspense?”

“I would rather you keep them waiting than to risk your own happiness.” You said, your voice softer now, carrying the weight of your concern. Sometimes it felt foolish to worry over him so much, but you supposed that was a condition of loving someone.

“What do you think would make me happy?” The question wasn’t unexpected; he oftentimes sought out your advice just as you would with him. But to speak with him of his potential nuptials felt like a shard of ice was lodged in your chest. 

You met his eyes; gone from the silver shine was the frustration replaced with a sort of keenness to know your thoughts. Most would say his eyes were two wild winter storms, and they could be if he was so inclined. But you had always seen them as bright stars hanging high in the sky. Shining down with their silver light that pulled you in and stole your breath. 

“I would say marriage to someone who could honor and carry on the traditions of your family.” You replied, a peak of the true depths of your devotion seeping into your words. “A lady that would care for you, and not simply the title that came with you.” 

“Someone like you, perhaps?” Cregan suggested a teasing lilt in his voice, but there was no mistaking the tinge of sincerity. He stepped closer then, forcing you to twist your position to where your back was against the railing. His warmth clouded your senses for a moment, causing you to lose track of your thoughts. 

“You jest.” You retort, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips. “This is serious, Cregan.” 

His expression shifted, a spark of intensity igniting in his eyes. “I am being serious.” He countered, an unusual tension crackling in the cold air. There was something new swimming in his eyes, firm but soft the longer he looked at you. “You’ve always been more to me than just a companion or a friend. You must know that.” 

A scoff sounded from you. “Must I?” You echoed incredulously, your heart pounding in your chest. The chilly air felt electric, humming with unspoken words and emotions that had been buried for too long. 

He pressed closer, his presence mudding your resolve. “Yes,” he insisted. “Every time I look at you, all I can think about is how much I crave you by my side above all else.” His voice was low and earnest, not a hint of deception to be found. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your lips parting to take in a shaky breath. “I am not a woman that could ever be considered as your wife.” The words stung as they left your lips, trembling on their descent. He was alluding to everything you had secretly hoped for, yet the reality of it felt like a dream you weren’t sure you could grasp. “I am the daughter of a second son. I hold no titles, no grand connections. And certainly-”

Cregan silenced you with a searing kiss. One that was all flames and fervor, but slow enough to feel every movement of his mouth molding over yours. A soft gasp slipped past you, and he drank it in, claiming it for himself. 

Your hands hung by your sides for a moment before your body caught up with your mind. But once his solid arms coiled themselves around your hips, something in you snapped in place finally. Hands went to his shoulders, gripping onto the thick fur of his cloak. He pulled you in, your back coming off the railing, pressing you to him so no space was between you. 

Your lips struggled to match his pace, but it was not for lack of trying. All these years of tampered emotions and repressed desires made everything blur together. The only tangible thing to be felt was Cregan. He held you with the utmost gentleness, his hands falling along your curves but never drifting too far or squeezing too tightly. 

The yearning threatened to spill over. Bubbling within the both of you and being tended higher and higher with every slide of your lips against each other. You knew better than anyone that he had a roughness about him. And you wanted to coax it out; you wanted him. 

His teeth nipped your bottom lip as he walked you backwards. Pressing you into a wooden pillar, he brought you flush against him. Though, through all the furs and layers of clothing, there was nothing to be felt. You could sense his hunger in the subtle low noises in the back of his throat and the way his touch grew feverish. 

When he left your mouth to trail his lips along your jaw and down your neck, you took the opportunity to reign in your self-control. When he hitched one of your legs around his hips, though, you could feel your composure slipping away. The line of propriety daring you to cross it as his fingers kneaded into the pliant flesh of your thigh. 

“Cregan.” You sighed as he kissed a line across your jaw. There were things you wanted to say. Things you needed to speak about. But your desire-addled mind couldn’t bring forth a single syllable. 

A loud roar of laughter sounded from the great hall, pulling you both back to the present. Cregan huffs into the crook of your neck, the hot puff of his breath sending goosebumps along your spine. 

He dropped your leg but kept his hold on your waist. “I will not take you for the first time in my halls where anyone could see.” Everything inside him screamed at him to continue, to hike up your skirts and make you his once and for all. But he would not have the first time muddied with the risk of prying eyes. He would have you, but only somewhere safe, warm, and private. 

“If this is what you want,” Cregan murmured. “I would have you in my chambers, though; if you wish to not continue, I will leave at once.”

A huff of laughter escaped you, eyes meeting his as your hands slid from his shoulders to his chest. “I have never wanted anything more than you for as long as I can recall.”

With your words solidifying what you both wanted, he pressed another quick kiss to your lips. Taking your hand in his, you made the all too familiar walk to his chambers. 

You had some time to think while trending through the halls. Your mind was made up, resolved, and set in stone, but nerves prickled at your skin. Not for the act itself really, but the knowledge it would be with Cregan. After all this time and all the wondering, it was finally happening. You hadn’t quite wrapped your head around it yet. 

This part of the keep was dead silent, far away enough from the great hall that the raucous of the gathering was a distant memory. The doors to his chambers were tall, heavy oak, crafted from large stocks of trees from the Wolfswood. As Cregan pushed them open, the warmth from inside his rooms wafted out to greet you. 

Passing through the threshold, you felt the shift of everything. Nothing would be the same after tonight. “What happens afterwards?” You question, words leaving your lips in a whisper as his makes an expedition across your jaw. You didn’t want to doubt him, but all of this felt like a dream moving so quickly you couldn’t discern if anything was real. 

“I will make you mine tonight.” He murmured, one arm going around your waist. “And you make me yours. Then we will be wed before the Weirwood tree.” 

“You would make me your wife?” You asked softly, watching as his face became puzzled. 

“Were my words not convincing enough?” A smile pulled on his lips, though he did not let it overtake his expression. He hummed a deep sound, lips falling here and there on your neck. 

His sugary tone thrilled you to your core. His hinting words and the press of his mouth made a surge of arousal swirl within you. “Perhaps you should just show me,” you urged. 

Not wasting another second, his arm around your waist hauled you to him. Your fingers gripping the fur of his cloak, pulling yourself as close as possible to him. Cregan’s mouth met yours frantically. His kiss was hungry, filled with a deep-seated yearning for you that he had tried to ignore. 

The heat of the room multiplied. Gone were the frozen winds from outside, a blazing inferno taking its place. That fire churned between you as he kissed you with the roughness you knew lay within him. Once again, you failed to keep up, but you were more than content to let him kiss you into a stupor. His teeth scraping the skin of your bottom lip as he worked on the clasp of your cloak. 

Letting the heavy garment fall to the floor at your feet, you shivered at the loss of its warmth. Wanting to level things out, your hands undid the fastening of his, a thrill shooting to you, noticing the eagerness in which he tossed it to the ground. 

“Cregan.” You whispered, trembling at the feeling of his hands at your back untying the laces of your dress. The material sagging around your shoulders. Grey stars met your eyes, asking you if he could continue. Nodding your consent, he slid the dress down, never letting his eyes wander as the garment pooled at your feet.

Your shift was the only thing separating your nakedness from his eyes. But you couldn’t help but feel the severe imbalance between you. As he made home in your neck again, your hands went to work on the restraints of his tunic. One by one, the clasps opened for you until you pushed the clothing from his shoulders. 

He huffed out a laugh into the skin of your neck that turned into a shudder when your fingers slid under his shirt. You let your hands feel along the corded muscle of his abdomen. Years of hard training formed his body into the mountain of a man that he was now. 

You moaned outright when he bit the skin below your ear. His hands mapping out the dips of your curves. Gripping here and there with his digits, unable to help himself when feeling the heat of your skin from beneath the thin shift. 

Growing desperate, you started raising his shirt up to say you wanted it off. He untangled himself from you just enough to aid you in lifting it over his head. It joined the rest of your clothing on the floor.

Seeing what was always hidden underneath those layers of thick garments had your head spinning. He was all solid muscle and pure strength. Powerful yes, but knowing that he would never use that power against you in a way to cause harm was exhilarating. 

Not being able to help yourself, you let your fingers lightly glide over the impressive map of his stomach. He indulges you for a few moments before your nails scrape along his skin, causing a growl to rumble through his chest. Snatching up your hands, he pulled you flush against him again. He devours your mouth with uncontrolled need. Lust was all but dripping from him, but the underlying affection would not be drowned out. Cregan was a man of few words more often than not, so he preferred to show you all that you meant to him. 

Hands taking hold of your hips, he maneuvered you to his bed. His eyes shining with tenderness as you let him lay you down on the mattress. The furs covering the sheets were soft beneath you, surrounding you in a comforting embrace. Cregan stood over you for a moment before going to his knees. Spreading your legs apart, he made home between them, his shoulders coming up under your knees. 

He wanted to taste every inch of you, trail his lips and tongue along every curve and sensitive patch of skin he could find. Hands coming up to the straps of your shift, he paused to see you already shaking your head. He grinned to himself as he removed the last bit of fabric hiding you from him. Off your shoulders to reveal your breasts, down your sides to uncover your stomach, and finally letting it fall away to bare your center to him. 

“Let me taste you.” He rumbled, his voice dropping deeper than you’d ever heard it. It’s timbre shooting a buzz of delight through you. The heat in your belly grows hotter, filling you with yearning that threatens to break you. 

You nodded, feeling the warmth trickle down to your core. “Yes, please.” Those two words were all he needed—your breathy answer coaxing an unquenchable thirst within him. And he intends to drink his fill. 

He kissed his way down your body. Guaranteeing you felt every kiss pressed to your skin and every scrap of his teeth. You were growing breathless already, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Anticipation makes your heart thud wildly inside your chest.

His lips gave attention to every plane of your body. Scorching his path from your neck to your breasts, and then to your stomach to make his way to your thighs. 

A low grumble crawled up his throat when your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. The heavy pressure of his mouth slid closer up the inside of your thigh, nipping at the skin there before going over it with his tongue. He could all but smell your arousal now this close to your center. The hunger to dive right in was almost overwhelming. The broad expanse of his shoulders pushed your legs further apart. Settling them over his back, his hand gripped the flesh of your thighs. 

As the breath caught in your throat, your stomach swirled with delicious nerves. The warm slick gathered between your thighs was a glittering treasure Cregan took for himself. A surge of self-satisfaction rippled through him. 

He takes in the wiggling of your body on his bed and hears the shaky inhales of your breath. Your thighs were twitching in his hold as he sank his teeth into the soft skin once more. You were like silk, smooth under his touch. The difference of his calloused fingers against your velvet skin was pure excellence in his eyes. 

The first kiss he gave your slit knocked the breath from your lungs. When he licked a burning stripe up your core, your hearing grew fuzzy. His movements were careful and calculated to push you to the edge of complete insanity. 

His arms around your hips went to bring you closer, a groan clawing up his throat as he pursued the pleasure of your cunt. He opened you to him with his tongue, desperate for whatever you granted him. A whine parted your lips as your hands gripped at his hair, your hips chasing the feel of his mouth without you even realizing it. 

He was nothing if not formidable, even while he lapped at your wetness like a man starved. Resting between your legs, shoulders tensed with the vigor of his movements. He was solely focused on you, moaning into your center absently like he had never tasted something so sweet. He would spend the rest of his days with his face buried in your cunt if he could. 

The heated cord within your belly continuously wound tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue. His mouth was ravenous, kissing and sucking with urgency, like if he didn’t make you come on his mouth, he would die.

“Cregan.” You sighed, writhing within his hold, causing his arms to grow tighter around you, locking you in place. The feeling was complete euphoria but also the sweetest torture at the same time. You yanked on the dark stands of his hair, urging him closer as if he wasn’t already practically inside you. “Please, don’t stop.” You begged, glancing down to see his starry eyes stuck on you. 

He wasn’t about to let such a saccharine request go unanswered. But he also wasn’t going to let you squirm and wiggle about as you pleased. His belly was raging with hot fire, waiting for the chance to be released. His cock strained against his trousers, aching with the need to be inside of you. But he wanted to taste you spilling on his tongue first. He kept up with his heavy strokes against your center, drawing you closer and closer to your peak. 

You were like honey on his tongue, surgery and sweet, all for him to devour. Listening to the melody of your whines and moans quickly became his favorite music. It brought him pleasure almost as much as it did you to know the ruinous state he’s gotten you in. 

Your legs began to shake around his head, small tremors of ecstasy swimming through you. Cregan raked the path from your entrance to your clit with his tongue, circling the bundle of nerves a few times before taking it in his mouth. The soft gasps of his name that came from your lips as he sucked on your pearl were maddening. It had his fingers digging harder into the pliant flesh of your thighs, surely leaving bruises he would have to kiss once this was all over. 

He was known to all as a stoic and serious man, but when he flicked his silver-hued eyes at you, they were nothing if not a flurry of affection. The sight of you on his bed breathless and lost to the pleasure he was giving you was heart-stopping. He had always thought you to be the prettiest girl he’d ever known, but now he likened you to a goddess. You had bewitched him body and soul. 

His mouth still worked over your core. Switching between dipping his tongue into your entrance and wrapping his lips around your clit. Whenever he sucked the nerves in his mouth, he was rewarded with the prettiest sound to ever grace his ears. A high-pitched whine that slowly faded to a deep sigh. 

You wanted to close your legs around his head, lock him there for the foreseeable future. But every time you moved your legs, he pried them apart, keeping you open to him so he could lavish his affection upon your cunt. His nose nudged your pearl whenever he dipped further down. You didn’t know how much more you could take. The peak was right there within your grasp; you just needed something to push you the rest of the way. 

He was unrelenting, seemingly just as obsessed with bringing you apart with his mouth. A scream ripped past your lips as Cregan took your clit back in his mouth once more. His teeth bit down on the sensitive bundle of nerves, not hard enough to break skin but just enough to shoot a spike of pleasure pain down your spine. He drew his teeth away and soothed your pearl with his tongue.

“Cregan!” You sputtered, hips lurching forward to chase his mouth. You felt as though your whole body was on fire, that any moment now you would burst into flames. Your eyes screwed shut as stars exploded behind your eyelids. He dragged his teeth over your clit again, making your grip on his hair tighten even more. If you weren’t so out of it, you would have worried about pulling his hair out completely. “Do that again.” You pleaded with a trembling breath. 

A huff of mild amusement escaped him before he was wrapping his mouth around your pearl and biting. He pulled at it with his teeth only to release it and sooth it over with his tongue. He drew whimper after whimper, moan after moan out of you. All the while, your legs shook around him with the weight of your impending release. 

“Gods, I’m close!” A pleading moan tore past your lips, brain going hazy with the mounting pleasure. Your nails dug into his scalp as the cord grew taunt. The roughness didn’t discourage him, though. It merely made him all the more determined to push you over into oblivion. 

“Please.” You spoke out into the air. A few more moments of his ministrations: bite, pull, sooth, suck. The cord snapped. A sharp gasp sounded from you as you shook like you were back in the cold winds outside. Everything spilled over; goosebumps erupted over your flesh. The heated tidal wave of your release rushing along your body. The sheer power of it having your back arching from the bed. 

It felt as if your body was humming as your peak subsided slowly. Sinking back upon the furs, you untangled your fingers from Cregan’s hair. He was still gently lapping at your wetness as you reluctantly pushed him away. He lifted his head, eyes looking upon you with such reverence. 

He kissed his way up your thighs, making sure to pay extra attention to the bruises he’d left. His lips were soft and caring on your sensitive skin. As he made his way further upwards, he pressed his face into your stomach. “I love you.” He whispered so faintly into your skin you weren’t sure if he even realized he said it. 

“What?” You gasped, going up on your elbows to look at him. Face still buried in your middle, he murmured it again. This time raising his eyes to gauge your reaction. “You do?” You mumbled, becoming flustered all over again. 

He crawled over you, covering your body beneath his burly physique as he claimed your lips. Your hand went to his cheek, tasting yourself on his tongue. “I do,” he husked. You took a moment to look at him, his eyes shining with adoration. “You still doubt my affections?” 

You’re shaking your head instantly. “No,” you protest. “I simply didn’t expect you to say that.” You were grinning like a fool, mouth curved upwards in a beaming smile. He returned it, with one albeit smaller than yours, but it was still all him. You laughed into the kiss he gave you as he situated himself back between your legs. 

“Allow me to show you then.” He spoke in a hushed voice. All you had to do was nod, and he was shucking off his breeches, kicking them from the bed. 

You couldn’t see him, but you felt him big and hard against your thigh. Nerves swirled within you—not that he would ever hurt you intentionally, but that there would be no way around it hurting. You knew he would put your well-being above all else, though. 

The barely-there smile still rested upon his face. “You’re still smiling.” You point out completely besotted with this mountain of a man. 

“Hush woman.” He let out a humming noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. It was difficult to keep up his stone-like appearance in your presence. It always had been, but with your wide eyes looking up at him still hazy with pleasure, it was increasingly harder. 

Bodies aligned and chests pressed against each other, you leaned up your lips searching for him, wanting another kiss. The kiss was as sweet as honey, soft as silk, much like you. From deep within his throat, a low rumble of approval echoed, and his eyebrows furrowed together as he returned the kiss with fervor.

You went to wrap your arms around his shoulders and found you could barely touch your hands together at the nape of his neck. Still though, it didn’t stop you from racking your nails across his skin. Hoping it would spurn him on. His cock rocked against your thigh, tip hitting your core for a split second. 

“Patience, my girl.” He warned, rough palm soothing back your hair. “Slowly, I don’t want to hurt you.” He kissed a line across your collarbone, nose skimming along your skin. You felt him slide up along your thigh, the tip nudging at your entrance again. Just that little friction had shivers racing up and down your spine. 

He canted his hips forward, pushing just slightly into your cunt. He was as big as he seemed evidently; the sting spread further as he slid in slowly. Inch by inch, with every ridge and vein feeling like it was being imprinted inside you. Once he was half way seated, you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. A faint grunt of discomfort slipped past you. Your hand gripping the nape of his neck tightly. 

He paused, looking down at you. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“Keep going. I’m alright.” You promised, loosening your hold on him. He pressed a soothing kiss to your hairline before he pressed forward again. 

Having him inside you even halfway was something you would have to get used to. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant; the stretch and sting were fading already. Once he was fully inside, the feeling of him filling you was almost overwhelming in the best ways. Cregan gave you ample time to adjust, holding himself back from rutting into you. He never wished to harm you, even if your warm tightness was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt. 

You tested your limits by rolling your hips to meet his. A hiss left the both of you as his cock slid even deeper, hitting some part of you that had you seeing stars. “Move.” You urged, back arching to press against him. 

He drew out only to snap his hips forward, driving himself back in. Taking care to be as gentle as he could, he began a harsh but deep hitting pace. He was ardent in his lovemaking, cock thrusting into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. He was keeping good on his promise to show you just how much he loved you. 

You wrapped a leg around his hips, his hand instantly going to hold it in place. Fingers lightly running across your skin. Your other leg spread wider for him, giving him as much room as you could to accommodate his size. A melody of whines and gasps flew from you with every thrust. Your nails running down the rippling strength of his back. 

His face was hidden in your neck, lips assaulting your skin. Bruising kisses were placed wherever he could reach. Teeth joining to nip here and there, leaving marks that you would deal with later. He pounded into you with equal fervor and tenderness. Cregan was nothing if not devoted in all things, so each thrust was measured to ensure he seated himself fully inside you every time. 

With the whole of Winterfell in the great hall or asleep, you worried not about concealing the volume of your moans. Needy whines and whimpers left you, one after the other. A particularly harsh snap of his hips had you stuttering out his name. You felt like you were being split in two, but it was the most pleasurable thing you’d ever experienced. 

The friction of your bodies sliding together was addicting. Each glide of his cock along your innerwalls drove you closer and closer to another peak. Walls tightening around him, drawing a muffled curse, he spoke into your neck. Your hands went to his hair once again, bringing his mouth to yours. You kissed him as his cock kissed your womb. Your lips molded together as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your thigh. 

You nipped at his bottom lips as he had done to you, causing a growl to rumble up his throat. There was urgency about him now, with his release building and building buzzing at the base of his spine. 

He dropped the hold on your thigh, planting his weight on his forearms by your head. Using the leverage to rut inside you at a faster and deeper pace. Intensity danced between you as his cock drove into you, seated fully inside you, then pulling out only to plunge back in. 

There was an almost divine feeling to being inside of you. As if Cregan was made for you and you were made for him. He had to wed you, had to say the vows beneath the Weirwood tree, and make you his wife. His Lady of Winterfell. 

He groaned at the thought, snatching your lips between his own for another blazing kiss. Teeth knocking together and tongues sliding over each other—this was not a romantic kiss. It was full of base needs and wants. The drive to claim you as his and never give another man the chance to see you like this. You were his. 

“Cregan please.” You pleaded into his mouth, your breath mingling together. He didn’t relent; your whispered appeal only spurred him on. He was aching and pulsing inside you. Cock thrusting so deeply, he vaguely pictured you struggling to walk in the morning. The thought sent a smug ripple down his spine. Your thighs were trembling, and with this being your first time taking him, you very likely will be sore. 

“Do you have another in you?” He huffed out the question. His release was just within his reach, but he wanted to feel you gush around him first. Have the tightness of your walls gripping him like steel as he pushes into you for the last time before spilling his seed. 

“Mhm.” You hummed around your harmony of whimpers and gasps. You rolled your hips to meet his as if to further prove what you wanted. The friction doing delicious things to the both of you. 

You’d lost count of how many times he’d sunk into you. It was too many to keep up with. But the look that glimmered in his eyes told you it wouldn’t be much longer until another rush of euphoria greeted you. 

His cock battered into you, his pace becoming faster than before. His hands moved from beside your head to grip your hips. Fingers sliding under to hold the small of your back, he lifted you slightly off the bed. The new angle had him hitting that spot within you that had you writhing up to meet him. Your senses became cloudy with nothing but the feeling of him inside breaking through. 

“That’s it, my girl.” He husked out, feeling you shudder beneath him as your cunt clamped down on his length. He kept up his pace, racing after his own peak. Lowering you back down to rest on the furs again, he groaned heavy and hot into your neck as he spilled inside of you. The warmth exploded at the base of his spine and spread. Keeping his hips moving to help you both ride out your pleasure, he thrusted into you a few more times. 

You whimpered as he withdrew from you, but he was quick to soothe you with a slow kiss to your lips. You fingers threaded through his brown tresses holding him to you. The display was all care and affection, a stark contrast to the intense moment between you just seconds ago.

When he rolled off you, he didn’t go far, his large form laying out beside you and drawing you to his side. His strong arm slung around you, locking you to his side. 

An easy silence fell over you as you both regained your senses. The aftermath of your coupling filled to tender caresses of hands over heated skin. Soft presses of his lips upon your jaw, making your head relax into the pillow. 

You weren’t aware of how much time passed before a halting thought crossed your mind. “Should I not leave?” You asked. Cregan furrowed his brows at you as if you were speaking in riddles. “There will surely be whispers if I am seen in your chambers in the morning,” you clarified. 

“Nonsense,” he dismissed. His hold on you becomes tighter and a touch more protective. “You will be my wife soon enough. Whatever any of my people have to say about it, they will do well to make sure I do not hear of it.” 

Completely smitten with him as well as his response, you choose not to argue. Much preferring to settle back into his warmth and spend the night caged within his arms.

I think this is the longest fic I have ever wrote, but I'm in love with it.

﹙taglist﹚@madame-fear

When the pile of clothes on the chair in the corner starts looking suspiciously person-shaped in the dark:

i will eat him

ah yes, even at 12 percy still messes with frank in spirit.

Night Changes

The final chapter and alternate ending to ‘The Other Woman’ series.

Warnings: Angst, mild smut.

A/N: I’m sorry this has taken almost a month but thank you for those who have been patient and are still interested in reading my work. I appreciate you all <3

To set the scene:

On the night of Aegon’s Name Day celebration you choose to leave with Brandon.

He hears your laughter before he sees you, a sound that makes his chest tighten yet warm at the same time. It was a rare sound he’d hear when you had been married, one that barely emanated from your mouth because of how miserable he had made you. His bitter treatment is a mistake that he’s reminded of daily, you no longer reside in the Red Keep— you’re hundreds of miles away in Winterfell, you are no longer his.

“Brandon— stop it” You hum, nudging him away from you as he plants kisses onto your cheek— the scruff of his beard causing your skin to itch.

“Why must I, you’re my wife. Is a man not permitted to show affection to his wife?” He argues, a playful smirk on his lips. You sigh heavily, allowing him to kiss you one last time before you pull away.

“When we’re at home— yes. You may smother me as you please, just try to hold back while you’re here” You chastise him before you link your arm with his.

Home.

The word is painful to hear for Aemond. You refer to that dreaded cold wasteland as home, even more of a sore reminder to Aemond of how far you’ve drifted from him. He wishes the halls of the Red Keep didn’t allow voices to travel so easily, maybe then his heart wouldn’t ache this much.

“Mother! I didn’t realise you had arrived already” A smile clear on your face as you approach Rhaenyra who greets you both with open arms.

You couldn’t say you were surprised that your mother instantly took a liking to Brandon, he treated you beautifully and he was a man of honour— traits that reminded her of Ser Harwin Strong. You watch in admiration as the two of them converse, allowing you to bask in the silence and observe what you had once called home.

You remember running down these halls barely a handful of years ago, picking up your skirts as you raced to meet Brandon at the gates. You had left a vulnerable Aemond in your bed chambers, heart on his sleeve that you would further wound by choosing to leave him and the ruins of your marriage behind. Your wounded heart had been through enough turmoil at the hands of Aemond— you deserved far better. He knew this. Which is why he let you go.

You haven’t returned to Kings Landing since you had practically begged your grandsire to annul the marriage between you and Aemond. You remember that day well, a memory that haunts you from time to time— even when you’re in your chamber at Winterfell.

“I know I ran away— from my duties and responsibilities, but I stand before you to plead for an annulment” You tried to dull the sounds of gasps in the throne room, the murmuring and whispers of judgement causing you to shift in discomfort.

“Annulment?” King Viserys, your grandsire doesn’t look pleased— but less disappointed than you had expected. A good sign, you think. He hums before a chesty cough erupts from him, the first time you’ve seen his illness in person since you had gotten the letters of his well-being.

“Your reasonings for this annulment being?” Viserys questions you, your hands grow clammy as you choose your words carefully— reciting the sentences you had practiced continuously over the last few moons.

“The marriage between Prince Aemond and I caused me nothing but grief. I cannot commit to my marital duties to him, I am not happy. I fear I will be miserable for the rest of my days if this marriage continues” Your words cause Aemond to almost flinch— they were harsher than he had expected but it’s what he deserves. He knows this. Yet if you were to even glance his way you would see the pained expression on his face, tears welling in his eyes almost.

“Most marriages are not for love— one would be fortunate enough to marry who they love but we do it for political purposes and for the sake of this family. To keep our bloodline pure. Your reasonings aren’t enough child” Viserys begins to dismiss you.

“We never consummated the marriage” You state, the judgemental whispers only growing louder at the sound of your announcement. They grow too unruly to the point where your grandsire has to demand them to quiet.

“We falsified the evidence of the consummation” You say truthfully, biting the inside of your cheek as you prepare for an earful. Viserys just tuts before directing his attention on Aemond who stands a mere few steps away from you.

“Is what she says true, my son?” Aemond nods gently, shame clear on his face as he briefly turns to his father. Viserys just exhales heavily before nodding and announcing that he approves of the annulment.

You didn’t linger in the throne room any longer than you needed, you avoided Aemond’s gaze— afraid that if you saw his hurt expression, guilt would consume you. So you didn’t, you left for Winterfell before nightfall and didn’t bother to turn back.

Almost two years have passed since you stood in Kings Landing, and now you had returned a new woman. You no longer wore the Targaryen name— you were a Stark who wore heavy coats and fur, you had grown accustomed to the icy weather in Winterfell and you found it fascinating. The heat here makes your cheeks flush and feel uncomfortable from the warmth. You wished you were back in Winterfell with Brandon— but you mustn’t neglect your family, even if that means facing Aemond again.

“Is grandsire attending the feast?” You question your mother, hopeful that he would be present tonight. You already know the answer when you see the look on her face, she shakes her head and informs you of his illness causing him to be bedridden. You make a mental note to visit him in his chamber after dinner.

You were given time to rest from your long travels before the family dinner. You were grateful for the brief time that allowed you and Brandon to stay hidden in the guest chambers, but now you had to prepare to face your family. This would be the first time since you fled Kings Landing they would see you and you didn’t know what to expect. The worst is all you expect, knowing your family and how dysfunctional they are— you already have your doubts.

“I’m assuming we cannot hide in here for the rest of the stay?” You hum as you adjust your dress, over examining the way you look in the mirror. Despite your insecurities, you admire the way your husband looks in his black attire. He stands behind you, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his body.

“Unfortunately, no” Brandon chuckles, lips finding their way onto the skin of your neck as he plants gentle kisses.

“You will be fine, my love. You are their blood” Brandon reassures you, his presence alone comforting you enough for your ragged breathing to calm. You nod, exhaling heavily while accepting his words. You will be fine.

You should’ve known what to expect. Everyone, minus your own brothers and Helaena, greeted you stiffly. The judgemental expressions clear on their faces as they watched you and your husband enter the room. You knew what thoughts grew behind their eyes, you didn’t need to guess how they felt— they made it abundantly clear from their expressions alone.

Aemond sat where he always did, you cursed at yourself internally for allowing your eyes to travel to him almost immediately the moment you stepped closer to the table. You silently noted the slight change in his appearance, he’s aged slightly— his hair is shorter, cheeks more hollow and jaw sharper than ever— yet his eye patch and scar remained the same.

“How is Winterfell?” Alicent breaks the silence, momentarily stopping her movements of cutting into her food as her eyes gaze into yours from across the long table. No one besides your husband and brothers had spoken a word to you— not even Helaena had uttered anything else besides hello. You were feeling the consequences of your absence now greater than ever.

“It’s as it always is. Cold and draped in snow” Brandon answers on your behalf, his hand caressing yours beneath the table in reassurance— a gesture you’re most grateful for. It saved you from having to scramble together sentences to speak to the woman who had once been your mother by law.

She had taken a liking to you before but the love she has for her children is far greater than anything in this world— you already sensed she had a distaste for you after you had left Aemond behind.

“Glad to see you’re thriving in Winterfell, dear niece. Meanwhile, my brother withers away and becomes less of a man as each day passes” Aegon snickers from across the table, a goblet in his hand and a sly smirk on his face as he eyes you out. His words cause Aemond to finally lift his gaze from his plate— his eye shifting between the two of you.

“In true Aegon fashion— you must always make a fuss at every table we feast on” You tut, a false polite smile on your face as you try to keep this conversation civil. Despite his tone, you didn’t want this to turn sour— you were already frowned upon by everyone in the room— giving in to his shenanigans would only make it worse.

“Is it really a fuss if I speak the truth? Besides, I’m just being a concerned older brother— is there any harm in that?” Aegon hums, chugging back the last of the wine in his cup before he slams his hand down on the table— demanding for more wine.

Your eyes narrow as you watch him closely whilst his wine is being poured. You think he’ll finally shut his mouth and be quiet— that he’ll realise it’s not worth the hassle or effort to stir the pot any more than he has already.

“I would like to make a toast” Aegon announces before he pushes out of his chair to stand— the chair making an obnoxious screech as he moves.

“We should be grateful to finally be sat in the same room again. Our family finally whole…” Aegon continues with his speech, his words growing numb in your ears as you begin to disassociate. Aegon speaks drunken words, you all know what he says doesn’t matter but you allow him to speak them all the same.

“And to my whore of a niece who has finally crawled out from the hole they call Winterfell— I would like to commemorate you for being the first Targaryen to actually let a Stark charm their way into their bed” His words gain your attention immediately, your mouth opens to say something but your words fail you. Your gaze shifts to Aemond’s who is already staring at you, the shared contact causes him to blink at you before he pulls his attention away.

“Mind your tongue when speaking to my wife. Royalty or not, I assure you you will lose it if you continue speaking to her in this manner” Brandon stands, speaking in a defensive tone as he partially shields you with his body. Aegon just snorts, the smirk still gracing his features as his eyes shift onto you.

“You have a perculiar taste in men. Why do they both have a fascination with severing tongues?” Aegon’s snarky comment is a direct jab at the marriage you once shared with Aemond— the threat he made about severing your tongue still makes your heart somewhat ache. Not in the way it used to, it’s just a sore reminder of how miserable the marriage you were once trapped in made you.

“Perhaps because people like you prove some deserve to be severed” You seethe, trying your hardest not to let his words anger you more than they already have.

“You will stop this childish banter at once. Aegon you will sit down and remain silent for the rest of the evening— your Queen and Mother demands it” Alicent breaks the feud between you, her statement causing Aegon to scoff before he slumps back into his seat— only then does Brandon retreat into his own.

“Are you alright, my love?” Brandon questions you, his voice low and face close to yours. You give him a tight lipped smile before nodding, squeezing his hand as a sign of reassurance.

“His words mean nothing, my sweet husband” You hum before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips, a small smile forming on his own at the gesture.

Aemond is sure he feels his heart practically pull apart from the sight before him. Your eyes boring lovingly into your husband’s as you whisper sweet words to each other— he wishes it were him who had protected you from his brother’s insults. He wishes it were him who is comforting you, holding your hand and pressing kisses onto your cheek.

He wants you to look at him just once more at this dinner. He pleads silently for you to notice how his gaze hasn’t left yours since you had locked eyes with him for a mere moment. He convinces himself that you will spare him one last glance. You don’t, instead you and Brandon leave quietly once the dinner has concluded, talking amongst yourselves hand in hand as you make your way back to your chambers.

“Gods, you feel so good” Brandon moans out, the obnoxious sounds of the bed colliding with the wall causing your cheeks to warm at the thought of someone hearing you. If you weren’t in complete euphoria you would bother to tell Brandon to quiet, but you don’t— you allow him to rut his hips into yours noisily as he fucks you.

“My sweet wife. Tell me you’re mine” Brandon’s thrusts quicken as his hand fondles your breast, desperate to feel your walls tighten around him. Only then would he release.

“I am yours. Only yours” You moan out before you press your lips against his— swallowing his grunts and moans as he releases inside of you, the feeling of you cumming around him causing him to reach his high.

Aemond wishes he were deaf or that he had at least bothered to move into another chamber during your absence but he is graced by neither of those options. He wanted to reside in the same chamber so that he would be reminded of you, he didn’t want to forget the memories you shared in these walls— even the ones that made tears fall from your eyes. Unfortunately for Aemond, you and Brandon had been housed in your old chamber which meant he would have to endure listening to the two of you make love.

I am yours. Only yours.

He knows he shouldn’t dwell on what could have been but he can’t help it nor does he stop himself from blissfully imagining it had been him you said those words to. That he was the one who had you a moaning and withering mess beneath him. He’s brutally reminded of reality when he prys his eyes open and questions his sanity as he realises he’s hardened at the mere thought of you. He forces himself to turn over and sleep, despite tossing and turning he would endure the restlessness to fight the strong urges he feels for you.

The following morning, Aemond tries yet again to gain your attention. He hopes you will visit the Keep’s library— so he spends all morning pacing around and aimlessly looking for books you might be interested in. It’s been some years but he still remembers the ones you would read to him, mainly fairytales and children’s books. When that attempt proves to be a waste of time, he tries the gardens— a place you would visit daily. He spends almost an hour there before he leaves in a huff— wondering where else you could be on a day like this.

He doesn’t expect to see you in the training grounds of the Keep, yet there you are sat upon a barrel as you watch Brandon spar with some of the Kights in the City watch. Aemond has to fight a smile that almost breaks onto his face at the sight of you, clad in the attire of your true house— you looked as though you had never left. Never left Kings Landing. Never left him.

“Prince Aemond. Spar with me, I wish to show my mentor how much his work has paid off” Brandon calls him over after spotting him from across the court, Aemond curses under his breath as he feels your eyes trail toward him. Despite his urge to leave, Aemond just nods before moving forward and joining the Stark.

“I have not kept up with my swordsmanship— excuse me for my lack of skill” Aemond apologises as he accepts a sword used for training. Brandon just shrugs and laughs it off.

“This will not be a serious fight, I won’t be much of a challenge” Brandon’s words are a lie, which is proven when Aemond is knocked to the ground for what seems like the tenth time since the sparring started. A part of Aemond hopes that you still cared about him enough to end this match.

“Tell me Prince Aemond, when was the last time you swung a sword? Seems to have been quite some time” Brandon questions, the smirk on his face a clear indication he’s toying with the Prince. Aemond isn’t blind to this but he answers truthfully anyway, hoping you were watching this unfold.

“Two years” Aemond grunts as he pushes back up off the dirt, the sound of their swords clashing rings in your ears and cause you to shudder as you remember the last time these two fought.

“The last time my wife stood in Kings Landing— seems like a coincidence” Brandon tuts, his tone causing you to sigh heavily— tired of his antics that are causing Aemond grief. You had watched enough of your former husband being pushed in the dirt and have his reputation slandered in one sparring match.

“Brandon, my mother has called for our presence. Please end this match” You call for him, the sound of your voice immediately making both men lower their swords. You ignore the way Aemond’s gaze burns on your face, desperation clear in his shameless stare that he wants you to look at him.

Just once. Please just once.

He silently pleads as he watches you talk to your husband as you wait for him to hand back his sword. He holds onto his hope until he watches you turn your back to him and begin to walk away with Brandon by your side. He wondered if he would ever get you alone during your stay, it seems as though it wouldn’t be likely.

“Your Grandsire wishes to host a ball to commemorate our family being united once again. You will attend, it may be the last we will share with the King” Your mother had informed you before calling in the handmaidens to pull together some dresses you may like to wear.

You insist on wearing the dresses you had brought from Winterfell but they seemed too dark to fit the occasion, you would stick out like a sore thumb and you didn’t want any more attention than you had already gained. It wasn’t news to you that word spread quickly that you had returned. The princess who ran away from her family and abandoned her marriage to marry another man. That’s all they care to believe, no one questions why you chose to leave in the first place. No one questioned Aemond for being the reason you left your home and everything you knew.

“Prepare for a tiresome evening” You murmur to your husband before you enter the hall, arms linked together as you pass everyone by and greet those who approach you first. Aemond thinks you look angelic, your deep red dress fits you perfectly as you enter the room— the man beside you is invisible to him. You look ethereal to him, a beautiful sight he should’ve appreciated greater when he had you.

The traditional ceremonies bore Aemond to death, he much rather enjoys the sight of you at the other end of the long table your whole family sits on. You feel his gaze but yet again you do not give in to his presence that demands to be known. You interlace your fingers with Brandon’s as you endure the rest of the speeches, your head almost lulling back as you fight the urge to sleep.

You sprung at the chance to get up and move even if that meant forcing Brandon to follow you onto the floor to dance with you. He was lousy, as you expected— he could handle a sword far more gracefully than he could dancing, but it was entertaining for you to watch him try.

“You should stop staring holes into her, brother. You’ve already suffered enough by letting her haunt you these past two years, no need to make yourself suffer worse by hoping she’ll run back into your arms” Aegon claps his hand on Aemond’s shoulder, causing him to break his gaze away from you and Brandon dancing. He didn’t realise he had been staring so intensely at you, if a sober Aegon could notice then surely others did too.

“I do not wish that. I’m no fool” Aemond mutters, shoving Aegon’s grasp from his shoulder. Aegon replies with a chuckle in disbelief at his brother’s statement.

“Right and I am not a free man who can drink and whore his way through Kings Landing unscathed” Aegon snickers, Aemond just tuts at how hypocritical his statement is.

“You are a free man who can drink and whore his way through Kings Landing unscathed, you fool” Aemond scoffs, averting his eyes back to the sights of you. A small smile graces his features at the sight of you smiling widely, despite it being caused by Brandon— he was grateful to see it.

“You are the fool. This woman not only abandoned your marriage but berated you in front of our father and lords alike when she begged for an annulment, yet you still wish to have her back” Aegon’s words are true, which is most concerning to Aemond. His brother is right, maybe for the first time in his life he believes this.

You broke his heart just as he had broken yours the moment you stepped back into the throne room to ask to annul the marriage. At that point you had been gone for just over three moons, no one in Kings Landing had heard word from you— yet everyone knew where you had fled. When Aemond heard of your return, his heart swelled at the thought that you may have returned to him. That you had realised a life with a Stark was not what you wanted and that Aemond was the one you chose in the end. His hopes were shattered the moment he saw you standing before his father, a slight frown on your face as you confess the very words that still haunt him to this day.

Aemond doesn’t bother continuing the conversation with his brother, he just pushes back into his seat and settles with the fact that he’ll just endure the rest of the evening and hope time passes quickly. You on the other hand are getting flustered by the overwhelming amount of moving bodies around you. You want nothing more than fresh air so you stop your movements before pushing up to talk in your husband’s ear.

“I’m going outside for air” You inform him, declining his offer to join you before you leave him to continue dancing with the others. You wanted a moment alone to catch your breath— to regain your thoughts as you savour some moments alone.

You do just that, inhaling the slightly cold air and enjoying a moment of peace away from everyone in that hall. You attention is captured by the view in the far distance, the vast city you once called home fascinating you with its sights. Kings Landing wasn’t the most majestic place to be, especially given it’s foul reputation but you learned to admire it.

“A princess should not wander alone” A voice of a man you recognise instantly causes your attention to pull away from the view. You feel a lump grow in your throat as you reluctantly turn to face him.

Aemond stands behind you, posture straight and hands clasped behind his back as he stares down at you. You can observe him more closely in this proximity, the closest you have gotten to him since you had arrived in Kings Landing.

“A princess knows how to defend herself. Besides, there’s guards for a reason” You shrug, sounding more nonchalant than you had intended. Aemond flashes you a small smile before stepping forward to stand beside you.

He hesitates speaking, his mouth opening and shutting as he tries to form the right words. A sight that was new to you, when you were married to him it seemed as though he always knew what to say. His sentences were always well articulated and he barely stuttered. You didn’t recognise the man before you.

“Your hair is shorter” You fill in the silence, your comment causes Aemond’s chest to warm at the mere fact you noticed such a detail. It only grows warmer when he feels your fingers brush through some of the silver strands.

“Thought I’d try something new” Aemond hums, savouring the brief feeling of your touch before it’s torn away from him and you pull back— he can’t deny the fact he’s disappointed.

“You haven’t spoken a word to me since you’ve arrived” Aemond changes the subject to a more sore topic, one that causes you to stiffen in discomfort.

“Exchange in words go both ways Aemond. You’ve had ample opportunities to speak to me” You argue back, your point causing him to nod in agreement. He could have easily spoken to you, despite your own personal direwolf being glued to your side— he would’ve risked conversation just to hear your voice.

“I was scared. Scared that you would reject me again” Aemond hums, a serious look in his eye when you gaze into his.

“Is it still considered rejection if you allowed me to leave you in the first place?” You question, satisfied when you watch him fall silent at the fact that you’re right.

“Where is your lover Alys? I haven’t seen her once since I have returned” You watch as he looks off into the distance before he responds.

“I sent Alys away the moment you fled Kings Landing. She returned to her home the morning after you left. I could not bear to have her be a reminder of the marriage I lost— the marriage I let slip through my fingers” Aemond’s words cause the lump in your throat to grow even bigger. This is what you were afraid of, that your presence in Kings Landing would give Aemond some kind of false hope.

“If you had stayed with me I would’ve changed my ways. I would not let you be miserable for the rest of your days” Aemond hums, hurt clear in his tone as he recites the words you spoke the day you asked for an annulment. You should’ve known those words scarred him— the moment they left your mouth you should’ve known it would plague his mind.

“Aemond, you and I both know the words I spoke that day remain true” Your hands fondle with each other, your finger nails digging into the skin of your hands.

“I know. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing we were fated, that our story would have a different outcome” Aemond sighs, turning back to face you as he continues.

“I spend every night in torment, wishing you had chosen me on Aegon’s Name day. I let you go for your own happiness but my own selfishness hoped, prayed that you would return to me” His confession leaves you speechless.

“I am not a godly man but I prayed to the gods that night that you’d have a change of heart. I stayed in your bedchambers well past dawn in hopes you’d come back. That is selfish of me, I’m aware”

“Aemond stop this. Please… save your words” You exhale, growing tired of his attempts at opening an old wound— one that you deemed sealed for the rest of your days.

“I don’t have enough time with you— please let me speak” Aemond’s tone is desperate but he remains calm, barely showing any signs of desperation on his face.

“The more you speak, the more you will hurt yourself. There is no point bringing up the past when I have already moved on” You’re being harsh, you know that but it’s the only way— you didn’t intend on giving him false hope. You knew where this conversation was leading so you figured you’d cut it short while you still could.

“I am going back inside…” You state before you turn to leave him, hoping he would let the conversation die and allow you to return to the hall.

“I have not seen your face nor heard your voice in two years. I beg of you to let me have a few more moments alone with you” Aemond pleads, his hand moving to grasp ahold of yours to hold you in place gently. You sigh heavily before allowing him to turn you around to face him, your bodies are closer in proximity than you intended— than you wished for, but you allow him to hold you there.

“In your absence, I have devoted myself only to you. I have not touched another nor let anyone else plague my thoughts. Only you. I miss you— I need you” Aemond’s grip on your hands tightens slightly, a feeling that causes you to almost pull away.

“You confuse me, Aemond. You let me leave. You told me you wished to see me happy— now you have a change of heart” Confusion is clear on your face as you stare up at him.

“I will admit again that I was a fool for mistreating you. I am a fool again for letting you leave me. I should have fought for you— begged you on my hands and knees for you to stay”

“There’s no amount of begging you could do that would make me change my mind. I love my husband, Winterfell is my home— and the decision I made to leave that night has been one of the best I’ve made” You’re being honest, your words sound bitter but you aren’t saying them out of spite. It’s the truth.

Aemond feels his chest tighten at your words, he should expect it— you’ve made it clear you no longer want him and that you’ve moved on, yet your tone still catches him off guard. He wishes for the woman who used to speak softly to him, who yearned for even a few loving sentences from him.

“You’re being selfish Aemond” You state before you pull away from him to create space between the two of you. A lump grows in his throat at the sound of your words— this is it, he thinks as he watches you turn your back to him to face the view again.

“I am being selfish, I will continue to be selfish as I ask you this” Aemond hums before he continues.

“Will you leave with me? We can run from here. Vhagar will take us anywhere you please— we can start anew, new lives, new names. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go” Aemond says, his hand finding the curve of your back as he watches your face to catch your expression.

Your mouth feels dry as you process his words. You didn’t know how to respond, you were certain of your decision already but still, you didn’t know how to voice it. Despite Aemond’s faults and his wrongdoings, it still somewhat hurt you to see him this desperate for you. Your absence clearly took a toll on him and you felt responsible for how much he’s declined. If you had been the girl you were two years ago, you would’ve fell to your knees and accepted his offer. You would ride on dragonback away with him to where-ever he wanted, he would be enough for you. But you aren’t the same girl you were two years ago, you were stronger than you ever were and Aemond’s grovelling wasn’t enough for you.

“I appreciate that you are trying, Aemond. I have not been blind to your efforts but this isn’t enough” You turn to him, watching as the hope drains from his face the moment the words leave your mouth.

“I will not torment you any longer. I ask that you forget about your fantasies of us running away— they will not come true” You state bluntly.

“I am loyal to Brandon Stark— and him only. He has shown me what true love means and I am happiest when I am with him. Your promises will not change that” You continue, his gaze dropping from yours as he finds interest in the ground beneath your feet.

“I am unapologetic about this but I do wish you will find love. Do not let me plague your thoughts any longer, you should be free to love another” You grasp ahold of his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. His skin feels warm against yours— the feeling of your hand against his causes goosebumps to rise on his skin.

“Forget about me, Aemond. I will do the same in return” You say in finalisation before you pull away from him, sparing him one last glance before you return inside. He stands in silence as he remains staring at the ground, wishing he had said nothing at all. Perhaps that would’ve been better.

You would forget about him and he would forget about you— of your marriage that once bound the two of you together. Now you were nothing, you had no reason to be tied to each other besides the fact you shared the same blood. He would have to settle with that and learn to be content. Aemond questions if he ever will find happiness as you leave him yet again with a broken heart.

—

A/N: Sorry if this ending isn’t as great as I said it would be 😭 Idk about the angst but thank you for reading this series regardless :)

(forgive me for any typos, this was roughly edited)

Taglist <3

@flavorofsalt @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn @tosuckmyweenis @iiamthehybrid @kambrook123 @ml0103 @rapoficeandfire @l1-l4 @manicspace @taeyooniee @4stralblossoms @anpacax0 @xinyourdreamsx @dumdaradumdaradum @padfooteyes @minaxcarter @merovingianprincess @zillahvathek @are-y0u-sirius @zgzgzh @writer-lee5 @chevelledahuman @bibli0thecary @olrjmarvete @chiyausu @sapphirehearteyes @schniiipsel @janelei @seafoamwhispers @lugiastark @caramelcandescence @fultimefangirl @esposadomd @baconkath @lyannesworld @backinwonderl4nd @hueanhdang @siriusdumblittlepuppy @kaicyl @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @rosemarytownescarter @anthonys-viscountess @ipadkidsworld @blacpiink @signyvenetia @totallynerdstuff @123forgottherest @tita004 @notabotiswear @hc-geralt-23 @polireader @out-of-life @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @kitkat-writes-stuff @darthdidi @lttflower99 @cryztalline @carlottalhn @stargaryenx @cheelieve7 @ladybug0095 @fictionalmenloversblog @alysinwonderland-at-tea @fireghost-x @spicykimchiiii @krispold @whitejuliana1204 @sabii5 @quartzs-posts @ellathefriendlyalpacaaa @speedypeter @vivilingme-blog @michele131 @importantartisantreemaker @el8ctrcd @borikenlove @insxgtt @meadows-of-light @skzenhalove @loomipee  @apollo-priestess @apeainapot @juneisreading @virgho01 @simp-is-what-i-am am @lomllino @crispmarshmallow @puffycreamcakes @solacestyles @ipadkidsworld @lol-im-done @discowizard88 @skinmittensgoblin @shotocr @valeric-writes @theekinslayer @darthdidi @0151imagayone @hydrationqueensworld @dc-marvel-girl96 @m1ndbrand @watermel0nsugarhigh @tea-effect @1950schick @tangerineslefttit @verycollectivecreator @ladyvlolypop @loveofvernonslife

mdni 🃏

stepbro!luke / voyeurism / so perv!luke but also perv!reader

you’ve just moved into your new house — both your dad and may thought it would be good to have a fresh start in a new place. it was nice, in a cute neighbourhood. you and luke got to pick your own rooms, and were left to your own devices when your father and stepmother went for date night.

your name echoed softly along the silence of the hall. you poked your head out of your doorway, looking right into luke’s across from you and meeting his eyes. he was stood in front of his window, staring out at whatever was on the other side.

“what?”

“c’mere.” he beckoned you with his fingers and you were quick to step out onto the soft plush carpet of his room. he hadn’t done much decorating — his bed was made, and he’d hung his mirror up. everything else was in its boxes. “look.”

you sidled up next to him, eyes tracking his gaze out the window and to the house next door. it was nice, around the same layout as yours despite the obvious differences decor-wise.

for example, they had their bed against the middle of the back wall, whereas luke’s was tucked into the corner. you knew this solely because the moment you glanced through the double paned glass of both your windows, your neighbour was bending his wife over at the hips and taking her from behind.

your lips parted as he adjusted his grip on her sides and began to piston roughly. you couldn’t hear anything but judging by the look on her face, he was doing the right thing.

“holy shit.”

“i know, right?” luke smirked at you, “mr and mrs smith are freaky.”

“i’m pretty sure their last name is burgenhoose.” you inputted, raising a brow when mr burgenhoose slapped his wife hard on the ass. she moaned, luke whistled.

“whatever. i’m sure burgenhoose isn’t the name she’s screamin’ right about now, huh?” he chuckled, “what d’ya think it is? looks like…rob? rod? bo —“

“god.” you breathed, muttering, “oh god.”

he hummed in agreement, nodding at you. you didn’t bother to look, eyes fixed firmly on the way your neighbour was gripping his wife’s chin and pulling her back against his chest. luke narrowed his eyes at you, and went to say something, but your eyes widened and you gasped, grabbing his arm and yanking him into a crouch under the windowsill.

“what the hell was that for?” he exclaimed.

“shh!” you put a finger to your lips, lifting yourself up an inch and poking your eyes just over the frame of the window, “i swear she looked at me.”

he smirked at you evilly, “we don’t have to be quiet. we can’t hear them, they aren’t gonna hear us.”

“whatever.” you kept watching.

“damn.” he glanced up and down your frame — at your fingers gripping the windowsill, your overall position. “i didn’t take you for a voyeur, but i’m into it.”

“what — ?”

it was his turn to hush you then, “don’t worry about it. stay there.”

you didn’t protest. you kept looking, watching as he kissed down her neck and bit her ear lobe. you let out a shaky breath, “we’re sick. sick people.”

“they left their curtains open.” luke whispered, suddenly behind you. his hands settled on your hips, “seems to me like they want us to see ‘em.”

“luke —“ your breath caught in the back of your throat when luke began to kiss down your neck. his fingers drifted along the waistband of your shorts, dipping inside for only a second before coming back out.

“tell me what they’re doing.”

you licked your lips, hands tense around the wood you balanced yourself on, watching your neighbours fuck. his arm had wrapped around her waist as he rolled his hips into her ass and her head had dropped down onto his shoulder. you whispered the details like a secret, and luke complied to your every word. his clothed crotch rubbed against your backside and he let out a long breath into your ear.

“this is…” you swallowed, this is bad.”

luke didn’t reply, he just made his movements more defined. the wet patch that had been forming on your panties the moment you began to watch grew bigger. wetter. you moved back into him with a breathy moan. his free hand was on your hip, moving slowly down the back of your legs and pushing them ever so slightly apart so he could get more efficient friction.

your movements got faster. uncoordinated. messy. your forehead dropped against the windowsill and you circled your hips against his fervently, moaning towards the carpet beneath you. he moved his hands to your shorts, pushing them down roughly along with your underwear that peeled away from your cunt. you hissed when the cold air hit your sensitive clit, and you throbbed in anticipation, bringing your hand to your chest and squeezing your boob with a huff.

luke’s hand came round to yours, pulling it away from yourself and steadying it back on the windowsill with a smack. that same hand then took your hair into its grip and yanked your head back, forcing your eyes back on the couple that were banging next door, “tell me if it changes.”

and that’s how you ended up on top of him, swinging your hips back and forth with your hands in the same position as before — only this time, luke’s head was nestled between them. his hands gripped your asscheeks roughly, guiding you back and forth, up and down, this way and that. your moans kept fogging up the window and you kept having to wipe your hand across the glass so you could keep watching the neighbours. when she got faster, so did you. when he slapped her ass, you said again and luke did the same.

when mrs burgenhoose came, legs trembling and head thrown back — so did you. luke wasn’t too far behind, thrusting up into you when you’d slowed your own movements. the neighbours started cuddling softly, but you just pulled the curtains to and let luke carry you to his bed.

first night in the new house. had to break it in, right?

Did you think I would have dark hair? When you took Alicent Hightower into your bed, did you think I might favor her, or did it not cross your mind?

oh ... my god

“i can fix her, i can fix him, i can fix them”

i think we need to work on you first.

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Naked part 2

! READ PART 1. Link down at the very end of this post <3 !

Summary: After Peter sees you naked, he cant stop thinking about it, it’s the only thing he can think about.

Warnings: Peter is a charming loser Mentions of reader being curvy (Srry I’m giving my curvy girls love), kinda smutty but not? Kissing, groping, alcohol consumption. Girl idk lol

•

Peter lays on his bed, his head wondering to the night before.

Your naked body remains imprinted in his head like a picture, he can remember every detail about.

Your curves, your breasts that he would’ve respectfully grabbed if you let him—if Lauren wasn’t there watching in horror, and your cute ass.

If you told him to get on his knees, kiss your ankles and go down on you, he would do it in an instant—if Lauren wasn’t there.

Peter came to the conclusion at that very moment that he wanted—needed you in his arms at all times.

He didn’t want to just have sex, he wanted to be your boyfriend and treat you like how you should be treated.

Anytime you crossed his mind, his face would heat up and he’d start smiling and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl—it was pissing him off.

You guys always made it clear that you enjoyed being friends and taunting each other for fun.

You both argue too much and are constantly at each other’s throats, something romantic could never happen…right?

You hadn’t spoken to him since you…flashed him with Lauren being there. You were too embarrassed to leave your room after that, refusing to leave your room until Lauren had left and broke contact with Peter.

Deciding to swallow down your worry and embarrassment, you hesitantly knocked on Peter’s door,

“Come in!” Opening the door, you slapped your hand on your closed eyes,

“You don’t have to cover your eyes, y/n. I told you to come in” Peter stated, pretending to be annoyed at your presence even though he was actually waiting for you to come talk to him since the incident,

“Sorry! Just thought we’ve both seen enough nudity these past couple of days” Peter let out a chuckle and nodded, sitting at the edge of his bed with his arms crossed and his legs man spreading, looking up at you,

“I came in here to um—talk?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,

“Talk?” You nodded and whistled, looking around his room awkwardly,

“Yep!” He sat there, waiting for you to say something, his head cockily tilting to the side,

“Your probably wondering why I was laying naked on the floor in your bedroom last night” You said.

He nodded and pursed his lips, hiding a smile,

“You cock blocked me and scared away a poor, innocent girl” He said, laughing. Rolling your eyes, you slapped his chest,

“I know! I feel so bad. She’ll forever know me as the scary naked girl who was hiding in her sneaky link’s bedroom” He shook his head and laughed again,

“I was trying to make it even between us, y’know? I saw your naked body, and I’ll show you my naked body!” You explained. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed,

“Yeah, I get why you did that. Why’d you have to do it when Lauren was coming over, though?” He teased, smirking up at you. You scoffed and shoved him by the forehead,

“I didn’t know she was coming over! You could’ve given the group chat a heads up!” He nodded and stared at the ground,

“So, did you like…see my, y’know…kitty cooter?” You asked awkwardly, poking at his shoulder with a grin.

He cringed and groaned at the word you used,

“I did! I saw everything. Also—kitty cooter? Just call it a vagina at that point” It was your turn to cringe and groan,

“Ew! The word ‘vagina’ sounds absolutely terrible coming out of your mouth, Parker. Never use that word around me again” He scoffed and threw his hands up in defence,

“Geez! Sorry for calling it the scientifically correct name. Never use ‘kitty cooter’ around me again, alright?”

-

“Since when did you have friends that weren’t me?” Peter asked Ned, as he glanced around the loft that was filled with at least thirteen people,

“I can have friends that aren’t just you. Surprise!” Ned said, scoffing,

“You could’ve asked y/n, Mj and I that you were going to throw a fucking party, dude” He shrugged and grabbed a beer from the fridge, handing it to Peter,

“Didn’t know I had to ask for permission, Daddy” Peter scrunched up his face and took a swig of the beer,

“Whatever” He leaned against the fridge and continued sipping it, starting to wonder where you and Mj were,

“What the hell?!” There you were.

You and Mj had shopping bags in your hands, struggling to hold them all as you scanned the loft full of people in annoyance,

“Who let humans in our loft!” Mj yelled over the music, catching your shoulder with her free hand when you began to lose balance in your steps,

“Let me help” Peter jogged over to you both and grabbed some of the bags,

“Did you invite these people, here? I thought we were your only friends, Parker” You said. He rolled his eyes and slung your purse over his shoulder with sass,

“I didn’t know about this party, either. Ned invited them without telling us” Mj groaned and dropped the bags on the floor,

“I hate it here. I’m going to my room and not coming out until these people leave” She walked away down the hall to her bedroom. You began following along behind her,

“I’m doing the same” Peter trailed behind you like a lost puppy, now holding every single bag you brought home. Getting into your room, you shut the door and pointed to your bed,

“Put the bags there, Bug-boy” He tossed the bags,

“Gently!” You shoved him out the way and double checked that nothing in them broke,

“You’re welcome, Princess” Peter scoffed, sitting down in your fluffy pink chair, leaning back and stretching his arms above his head.

You turned around to face him and almost gasped as his happy trail was showing from where his shirt lifted up. Your attention then focused to how his big muscles flexed through his white shirt.

Jesus Christ.

“So…big” You mumbled as you stared at him. He raised an eyebrow,

“What was that?” Your eyes widened,

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything! Shut up the fuck up” He snorted and ran a hand through his hair,

“Where’d you and Mj go today?” He asked, now manspreading.

Can he stop sitting like a bitch, for fuck sake?

“Uh—we went to Sephora, Walmart, the food court and Victoria Secret. When we were at Victoria Secret this old lady called me a whore for looking at this lingerie set that looked like two tiny triangles and a string of floss” You rolled your eyes at the memory.

He laughed and stood up, walking over to you,

“Aw, that sucks. Old people, am I right?” He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a hug. You froze before nuzzling into his arms, sighing contently with your eyes closed, sniffing his armpit,

“Did you just sniff my armpit?” He asked. You could hear a smile in his voice,

“Pffttt—no, I’m not weird” He smirked and hugged tighter, his bicep now completely covering your face.

Is he doing this on purpose?

“You are pretty weird” You hummed to what he said, not recalling paying attention to anything but him.

“Never let go” The words left your mouth before you could really stop them,

“What?”

“What?”

-

“Chug, chug, chug, chug!” Everyone chanted as you and Peter were seeing who could chug down a beer faster. You managed to finish first which had everybody cheering and a couple of people ruffling your hair,

“Lick me, Parker!” You yelled, shoving his shoulder. Peter groaned and tossed the can away,

“I wish” He whispered to himself, but smiling as he watched you awkwardly dance in victory to the Pitbull song playing,

“Let’s play a game!” Ned yelled, drunkenly slinging an arm around your shoulder.

-

“We close our eyes and hold up a number on our fingers, and then on the count of three we open our eyes. Whoever is holding up the same number has to kiss!”

You and Ned sat next to each other while Peter sat across from you, next to a girl named Emily while she sat across from Ned.

Everyone was slowly starting to form little groups, playing different games together since it was still early in the night. You and Peter somehow got roped into playing this stupid game together,

“What are we, twelve?! This game is so stupid” You complained. Peter nodded along to what you were saying,

“Exactly! Also, Ned, I’m not kissing you if we hold up the same number” Ned scoffed,

“Why are you acting like we’ve never made out, before, Peter?” You looked at the both of them confused,

“Wait—

“We never kissed! Anyways, I’m only gonna play if y/n plays” He said, shrugging and staring you down nonchalantly. You squinted your eyes at him and looked over at Emily and asked,

“You playing?” She shrugged and then nodded,

“Okay, cool. I’m playing, then” Peter smiled and leaned forward so that his face was only inches from your’s,

“Damn. I guess I’m playing as well” Your breath hitched at his low tone,

“Yep! I’m playing, too” You repeated, mentally slapping yourself at your weird behaviour,

“Right. I’m gonna play, yep” He said back, now both of you becoming awkward once you guys realized how close your faces were,

“Ahem!” Emily cleared her throat in annoyance, breaking you guys out of your odd, repetitive conversation,

“Everybody shut your eyes, please!” You all did so before Ned began to count,

“Alright, open your eyes” Emily and Ned both had two fingers held up,

“Sweet!” He whispered under his breath before leaning in to kiss Emily.

Peter couldn’t hide his discouraged self when he opened his eyes to see that you both were holding up different.

After two more rounds of just Ned and Emily holding up the same number every time, Peter was getting fed up,

“I’m getting tired of watching you guys kiss, y’know” He said, still staring at you. In fact, he hadn’t stopped staring at you this whole game, this whole night,

“Honestly, me too. At this point, I’ll kiss anyone!” You stated, staring at everybody who was in the room, except for Peter himself. He couldn’t help but frown at that, now feeling like his feelings were one-sided,

“Fine! One more round, okay?” Ned said, closing his eyes and starting to count down to three,

“Open your eyes!” Coincidentally, you and Peter were both holding up four fingers. His heart sped up as he began to blush, but his face fell when he heard your groan and throw your head back,

“No way! I’m not kissing him!” He began to become defensive now, his way of hiding his hurt feelings,

“Well, I don’t want to kiss you either, y/l/n! And by the way, you said you’d kiss anyone!” You rolled your eyes and stood up,

“Whatever! Goodnight” Peter stood up as well in a hurry,

“Goodnight, as well!” He began to trail behind you as you made your way to the hallways to your bedroom,

“Why are you following me?!” You yelled, turning around and flailing your arms,

“I don’t know!?” He yelled back as you guys made your way to your room, the door being slammed shut by Peter,

“Why are you in my room!?”

“I don’t know!?”

You both stood there, simply staring at each other with squinted eyes,

“I didn’t even want to join the party. I just wanted to watch a movie and go to bed ” you mumbled, sighing heavily and sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, leaning your back against it.

Peter did the same, sitting next to you, his head falling back against the frame,

“Damn. I wanted to invite Lauren over” You whipped your head around to look at him with a scowl, to end up seeing that he was grinning and looking at you already.

He was teasing you.

You rolled your eyes and bumped his shoulder,

“Not funny, Peter” He doesn’t know why, but the way his name rolled off your tongue had his spidey-senses tingling, his ‘Peter-tingle’ is what May would call it.

An awkward silence fell between you both. There had been many awkward silences since the ‘incident’ a couple of days ago. You guys saw each other naked for god’s sake! That would make any roommates and friends feel awkward for a bit, but it was coming up on a week that you and Peter had that unresolved tension.

Almost like you were reading his mind, you started to speak,

“There’s this weird feeling between us” He glanced over at you and pursed his lips,

“I kinda miss the old us, y’know? The us before we saw each other naked and vulnerable” You let out a small giggle at the end of your sentence. He smiled and scratched his eyebrow while nodding,

“No—yeah, I get what you’re saying” You leaned your head on his shoulder, catching him by surprise,

“I just thought that if I showed you my naked-self back it’d make things less awkward and have everything go back to being—normal?” He let go of a long breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and leaned his cheek on top of your head,

“It did kind of take away my embarrassment…but—

He cut himself and bit his lip,

“But, what?” He puffed out his cheeks and and rubbed his chin.

Just say how you feel, Peter.

“It took away my embarrassment but—it also made me feel things?” You grew confused and raised your head from his shoulder to look at him,

“Feel things?” He looked down in shyness,

“Like—I couldn’t get you off my mind after I saw you in my room…naked” Your face became hot to the touch at his words,

“Not just your naked body, by the way! You’re so much more than your body! What I mean is that—

“Everybody is leaving!” Ned swung the door open, cutting Peter off,

“Oh! Finally” you quickly stood up and sprinted out the room, leaving Peter there to sulk on your bedroom floor,

“You gonna come and say goodbye?” Ned questioned, giving the Spider-boy a weird look,

“Just leave me alone to die”

“Um—okay. What an odd thing to say”

-

After saying goodbye and doing your nighttime routine in the bathroom, you made your way to your bedroom to find that Peter was no longer in there,

“What a weird night” You whispered to yourself, flopping down on your bed.

You started to think about what Peter had said before, about not being able to stop thinking about your naked body.

The way he said it, in such a nervous but charming way, had you clenching your legs together while replaying it in your head. Did you really have that much of an effect on his mind? Did he like you?

I mean, he did say it wasn’t just your body that he was thinking about. What would he have said if Ned didn’t open the door?

Meanwhile, Peter was in his room at his desk with his head in his hands, his head running wild with thoughts as well,

“You’re so stupid, Peter. You should’ve never said anything to her in the first place” His foot tapped on the ground anxiously, trying to decide if he should never talk to you again (which he knew was not possible and too dramatic), or if he should walk across the hall to your room and tell you everything he has been feeling.

-

Needing a distraction, you felt around for your phone on your bed, to your end table, and then groaned in annoyance when you remembered you forgot it in the bathroom,

“My god!” You lazily got out of bed and went to the bathroom, grabbed your phone, and started the seemingly endless walk back to your room,

“Holy shit!” You screamed in fear, placing a hand on your chest.

There stood Peter in the hallway,

“Sorry! It’s just me! It’s Peter!” You rolled your eyes and rubbed your forehead,

“Yeah, I know it’s you. Just—why are you standing like slenderman in the middle of the hallway?” He glared at you and ran a hand through his hair,

“I wanted to talk to you but, you look tired and annoyed so, I’ll just let you go to sleep, or whatever” You straightened your back and blinked, your heartbeat beginning to beat rapidly at his words,

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”

Peter could sense your heartbeat deep in his ears and a smell that he couldn’t really put a name on, but he liked it, and he knew it meant you were excited. It’s times like these where he’s happy that he is spider-Man. The hairs on his neck stood up as he stepped a little closer to you,

“Your heart is beating really fast” He started to feel cocky as he watched you look down to avoid looking into his face, and how the smell of your arousal was becoming more intense. He placed his hand on your chest,

“Peter” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,

“Yeah?” You cleared your throat and awkwardly looked to the side,

“Your hand is on my boob. That is not my heart” His eyes widened as his cocky demeanour disappeared. He went to snatch his hand away, but to both of your guy’s embarrassment, his hand remained stuck to you,

“Um—

He tried taking it off again,

“I’m starting to think this is not your spider-ness, or whatever. I think you just wanted an excuse to keep your hand on my boob forever” His eyes bulged out of his head and continued to try and take his hand off,

“I did not do it on purpose! I’m sticky! It’s apart of me!” You slapped a hand on your forehead, and grabbed his wrist to make him stop pulling,

“Stop! Rip my shirt off” His face flushed at your words,

“I’m—what?”

“You heard me. You’ve already seen me naked, so just rip it off and we can—talk?” He nervously chuckled at your words,

“Are you sure? Cause—

“Peter”

“Okay, sorry! I’ll just—

A loud tearing sound could be heard,

“Wow”

He stared at your chest, suddenly getting déjà vu, but this time you were wearing a pretty white bra that had a small bow in the front instead of being completely naked.

You crossed your arms over your chest,

“Are we gonna talk, or?” You trailed off, whispering and looking up into his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath and looked into your eyes as well,

“I, uh—we still haven’t kissed. We held up the same number, remember?” He said, walking so close to you that your back was almost against the wall.

Your ripped shirt that was still hanging from his hand finally detached, plopping onto the floor at your feet,

“Peter?” You whispered, biting your lip,

“Fuck” Peter grabbed your bare waist and pressed his lips onto your’s, a surprised gasp coming from you. You placed your arms on his shoulders and practically melted into him.

He felt relief when you didn’t pull away, instead tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging, grinding into him desperately. Remembering that you were still a human who has to breathe, you pulled away and took a deep, shaky breath, Peter as well. You glanced into each other’s eyes, chest moving rapidly,

“I like you” He whispered, gulping. You grinned and pull him back in by his face to your lips. His hands were now experimenting, rubbing your lower back, the straps of your bra, and then your breasts. He let out a high pitch pathetic moan when he squeezed them,

“I cant believe I’m squeezing your boobs right now” you snorted against his lips at his loser-like way of saying it.

You let out a gasp when he unexpectedly picked you up bridal style like you weighed nothing, his super-human strength causing your mind to lead to very sinful thoughts,

“I think it’s so hot your spider-man—and so, strong” You blurted out, staring up at his brown eyes as he kicked your bedroom door open. He smirked at that and gently laid you down on your bed. He stood at the foot of the bed and shrugged, flexing his biceps (on purpose),

“Thanks. I can lift cars and buildings, too. S’like, no big deal or whatever” He looked down at his feet and scratched the back of his neck,

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna like—come here and have sex with me— or?”

“Right! Shit, yeah! Um—

He took his shirt off, hurriedly pulled down his pants and let out an embarrassing girl-ish scream when he tripped over his pants and fell on the ground with a loud thud,

“Oh my god! Peter, are okay?!” His head popped up,

“Yep! Totally good! Don’t even worry about!”

He dove on the bed and made himself comfortable between your legs, making you giggle at his enthusiasm. You guys went back to making out, his kisses beginning to trail to your neck, shoulder, breasts, and stomach. He slowly slid your pyjama shorts down your legs and tossed them behind him. He placed a hand on your boob and the other in your underwear,

“Oh! Peter!” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,

“Wow, barely touched you and your already screaming my name” You screamed his name again and pointed to the window,

“No, Peter! You threw my new expensive shorts out the window!”

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END

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Author: Wow I’m so sorry this took so long to post LMFOA I got that Christmas break depression

Here’s part 1 down below

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Naked

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader Summary: In which Reader walks in on a naked Peter, Reader laughs, Peter becomes insecure. Reader decides to show