#*breathes out a dragon huff*

[nebulaafterdark]

A Tale Of Two Dragons

Summary: After suffering a head injury, Princess Y/N forgets the past two years of her life, including her marriage to Aegon. Who will do anything to win her back.

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, Smut, Cheesy, Medieval Romcom

Y/N wakes terribly hot, her head throbs and there is something wrapped round her waist. She peels open her eyes…an arm. She flicks it away.

“What is the matter, my dearest love?” A voice grumbles, from behind her. “The maester says you should remain abed for several days.

“Why?” The word is past her lips before she can stop it.

“You hit your head.”

Y/N reaches up toward her throbbing temple, scraping against the forming scab beneath the bandage. Her fingers come away wet.

“You mustn’t touch,” Aegon chides, “let me see.”

Aegon?

Y/N screams at the top of her lungs, rolling onto the floor.

“What is the matter?” Aegon peers over the edge of the mattress. “Does your head hurt?” He springs from the bed, grabbing a cup off the bedside table. “Here, milk of the poppy.” He attempts to bring the chalice to her lips.

Y/N slaps his hand away, the glass shattering over the floor. “Surely poison.”

“What?” Aegon breathes. “Why in the seven hells would it be poison, my heart?”

“Do not call me that.” Y/N snaps, feeling almost sorry for it as his face falls.

“Look at me,” he crouches down to her, cowering in the corner. “What’s happened?”

“I should be asking you! Why are you being kind to me? Why are you sleeping in my bed? Plotting to kill me?”

“I don’t want to kill you.” He huffs a laugh. Back are the sad, crestfallen eyes.

Y/N forces down the urge to punch him. “Why were you in my bed?”

“To be clear,” Aegon says, motioning behind him, “this is my bedchamber.”

Y/N searches the space behind him, he speaks true. This is not her room. “Why would I be in your bedchamber?”

Aegon’s upper lip twitches, “because you are my wife.”

Y/N laughs, “I am your wife.”

Aegon joins in, anxiously.

“You jest.” She wags a finger at him, “that is the Aegon I know. You have outdone yourself this time.”

Aegon’s eyes search hers for a moment more before he hollers, “guards!”

The doors fly open, “your grace?”

“We must have the grand maester.”

Y/N’s eyes track his movements. Pacing and pacing until the maester appears.

“Is your head troubling you, your grace?” He kneels before her. “I left you with milk of the poppy.”

“She needs more.” Aegon insists.

“She can have no more until the morrow.”

“She did not drink it.” Aegon shouts, “she tossed it away because she thought it poisoned.”

“I would never harm you, your grace. Surely you know that.” The maester addresses the princess directly.

“Not you, me.” Aegon throws up a hand. “She does not know who I am.”

“I know who you are and I do not like you.” Y/N argues.

“That is worse.” Aegon laments, “she does not remember our marriage or our-”

“Your grace,” the maester stops him. “Your lady wife has suffered an injury. It is best not to push the recollection of years past.”

“She will heal then?”

“I cannot say, the mind is unpredictable.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at the maester, “am I truly married to Aegon?”

“Yes, princess. For some two years now.”

“Nearly three,” Aegon corrects him, with a hand to his head.

Y/N’s breathing picks up, unable to calm herself.

“Princess, you must breathe slowly now.”

“I want my mother,” Y/N chokes out.

“I will get your mother,” Aegon offers, “just breathe.”

His command is foreign to her. That he would care. The maester fusses about her as they wait. “All is well, your grace, all is well.”

“I may faint.” She warns.

The maester begins fanning her with his hands.

Rhaenyra appears moments later, with Aegon hot on her heels. “What’s happened, my darling?”

“Mother,” Y/N reaches for her, sobbing against her shoulder.

“Hush now.” Rhaenyra cradles the back of her head, smoothing down her hair.

“I do not know how such a thing could h-happen.”

“What?” Rhaenyra begins swaying her like a babe.

“I woke up beside my sworn enemy, claiming to be my husband.” Y/N tells her, “and worst of all, everyone insists that it’s true. Am I truly married?”

“Yes.”

“To Aegon.”

“Yes.”

“And I am happy about it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Rhaenyra smiles. “You are quite taken with him.”

“To what degree is he hung?” Y/N scoffs. He must be-

Rhaenyra throws her head back with laughter, “I would not know, sweet girl.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “he speaks true then?”

Rhaenyra nods.

“And we are in…” Y/N forces out the word, “love?”

“Very much so.”

Without warning, the princess faints in her mother’s arms.

————————————————————————

“And though all the realm wished for the princess to deliver a son, she blessed the prince with two daughters.”

Y/N comes to, blinking up at the ceiling. Pleased to find that she is in her own bed this time. She nearly finds herself comforted by the voice beside her, before looking over to realize it is Aegon. Seated in the arm chair with a brown leather book in his lap. She sits up, staring him down.

“Don’t,” he slowly closes the book, holding up both hands, “don’t scream.”

“What do you want?” Y/N groans. “I’ve already told you I don’t remember.”

“I’d like to court you.” His lips twitch, nervously.

“Really?” She huffs a laugh. “You, Aegon Targaryen, would rather court me than go find another well suited lady, of high status, to marry you?”

“Yes.”

“You want me?”

“Very much so.”

“More than anyone else?”

Aegon twists his wedding band around his finger. “Yes, more than anyone.”

“Well…what would we do together?” She crosses both arms over her chest, “I can’t imagine we have much in common.”

“Talk, stroll the gardens, fly together on dragon back, whatever you’d like.”

“You told me this morning, I am to remain abed for several days.”

“That’s why I’ve brought this,” he waves the book at her, “thought it might keep you occupied. That or I could dance for you.”

“How well do you dance?”

“Not very,” Aegon admits, “that’s what makes it entertaining.”

Y/N leans up, trying to catch a glimpse of the book’s title. “What book is that?”

“A tale of two dragons.” Aegon pulls it away, “do you want to hear the story or not?”

“I suppose,” Y/N sighs, sinking back into the pillows. “I’ve nothing better to do.”

————————————————————————

For four days he reads to her from that silly book. With each day that passes Y/N finds herself more invested.

“But if a son is expected of the prince, why does he not want for a son?”

Aegon smiles as he closes the book. “That’s all for today, you must rest.”

“I am not tired,” Y/N argues.

“Your eyes tell a different story.”

“Truly, I’m not tired.” She tells him, toying with her marriage ring. “My head hurts is all.”

“Might I try something?”

Y/N scowls, reluctantly closing the distance between them.

His hands cup her face, moving up to her throbbing skull, running his fingertips over her scalp.

It feels nice, though Y/N will never admit it.

“It will help if you stop making such sour faces, Y/N.” Aegon remarks, smoothing his thumb over the furrow between her brows. “My head aches just watching you.”

“You might wear a similar expression after being dealt my hand.” It is odd, her name on his lips. As though he rarely speaks it, save for when he’s angry with her.

“Yes, how devastating it must be; doted on by the man who loves you.” Aegon muses.

“You used to call me a bastard at family gatherings.” Y/N remembers that clearly.

“I used to do a great many things I am not proud of.” Aegon admits. “But the man I am now, the man I am with you…I take great pride in.”

“It will take time, if I’m to trust you again.”

“I have time.” Aegon assures her, “though at present, there is somewhere else I need be.” He presses his lips to her forehead in parting. “Good night.”

Y/N cups his wrist, at the side of her face, for just a moment. “Good night.”

————————————————————————

On the fifth day, the grand maester allows Y/N to leave her apartments, and by the tenth day, she is cleared to fly. Being amongst the clouds always helps clear her mind, mayhaps she will recall something.

“Good morrow, your grace.” Marcello, the dragon keeper greets her.

“Good morrow,” Y/N smiles. “Might you saddle Stormborn for me?”

“At once, Princess. I’m glad you are well.”

Marcello returns a few moments later with the lilac dragon, whining as she nuzzles into Y/N’s hands.

“Issi ao daor biare naejot ūndegon issa, uēpa raqiros?” Are you not happy to see me, old friend? Has something happened between them that she’s forgotten?

Stormborn hums, nudging at Y/N with her head.

“What is the matter with her?” Y/N turns to Marcello.

The dragon keeper lowers his eyes, “she wants for Sunfyre, your grace.”

“She wants-” Y/N breaks off, clunking a fist to her head, “she wants Aegon’s dragon?”

“They are quite close these days.” The man in question says, stalking up behind her. “I heard you were flying out. I thought I might join you.” Aegon explains his presence.

“This is preposterous.” Y/N scoffs, “you mean to tell me we have become so deeply entwined that even our dragons cannot be parted?”

Aegon’s lips turn downward as his brows rise, “yes.”

“What can be done about it?”

“You loved me once, my hope is, you will love me again.” Aegon brushes past her, resting a hand on her dragon’s snout. “There’s naught to be done about it.”

To add further insult, Stormborn leans into his touch, cooing happily.

“I suppose I should pet your dragon.” It’s meant to be a threat, a means to get even.

“Go on,” Aegon encourages, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sunfyre?”

The golden boy begins to serenade her with a low melody. Y/N rests her temple against his head, glaring at Aegon. It is not the dragon’s fault.

“Your dragon understands English?”

“As does yours.” Aegon informs her, “they are highly intelligent creatures.”

“Pōnta issi mēre rūsīr īlva.” They are one with us.

Aegon smiles, “indeed.”

“Do you not speak-”

“Nyke kostagon emagon naejot…vestragon mirrī.” I can have to…say a little.

Y/N bites back a grin, “I could teach you.”

He starts to say something else, but she covers his mouth with her hand.

“Later,” she leans in, pressing a kiss to the back of her own hand. Had it not been there…it would’ve been his lips. Which means nothing, muscle memory, surely. “I’m sorry.”

He catches her wrist, bringing her hand away.“Don’t be.”

————————————————————————-

Y/N enjoys evening strolls with Aegon in the garden, but on occasion she walks alone, outside the walls, wandering near the woods.

“Wait!”

Y/N whips her head around to see Aegon charging at her, knocking her backwards before the steel trap snaps closed near their feet. Two rows of long, jagged teeth, meant to catch animals. She stares at him, in disbelief.

“They doubled the number of traps round the castle in these past years. I did not know if you’d recall.” Aegon explains, still holding her in the safety of his arms.

“You…imbecile!” Y/N returns the awkward embrace.

“Please, call me husband.” Aegon smirks.

“You could’ve been maimed.”

“Better me than you.”

Y/N groans in frustration, “quit doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Charming me.” She pulls away enough to see him.

No, not the sad eyes.

“I should like to know you better first.” Imbecile, she curses herself.

“What do you say we go back to your rooms and I will read to you?” Aegon suggests, “I’ll even bring cake.”

There it is, that tugging in her chest. “I do love cake.”

“When you were-” Aegon trails off, “there was a time all you would eat was cake.”

Y/N presses a hand to her head, “when I was what?”

“In due time, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles, sadly. “The grand maester says we mustn’t push, you’ve made great progress already.”

————————————————————————

She recalls a great many things over the next weeks. Trying and failing to teach Aegon High Valryian, eating cake with him and laughing until their sides ache. But there are a number of things she cannot recall.

“Where is it you go?” She wonders, “when you are not with me? You said,” Y/N closes her eyes until the words come to her, “you said you want always to be with me.”

Aegon’s eyes widen, “yes, I did say that. You remember?”

“Not nearly enough, just silly things.” Y/N admits, “sometimes…I think I might’ve been with child.”

Oh.

“That’s it, isn’t it? We’ve a child.”

“Two actually, daughters.”

“One after another like clockwork, then?” She arches a brow, resting a hand over her empty womb, “you’re late.”

Aegon grins, “both at once.”

“Efficient.”

“Well, we are nothing if not thorough.”

“With the way you look at me, I’m surprised there are only two children.”

“The birthing bed was not kind to you. I would love any child of ours, but I would not inflict such suffering upon you again.”

Y/N sighs, “you are so in love. I wish desperately to remember.”

“You could love me again.”

“What if it is different than what we shared? What if it does not please you as much?”

Aegon shakes his head, “then it will be different and I will be glad for it all the same.”

“Might I come with you to see them?” Y/N asks, wringing her hands.

“They should like that very much, they’ve been asking for you.”

“What are their names?”

“Dahlia and Visera.” Aegon tells her, “it might be difficult for you to tell them apart at first.”

“Dahlia is a Strong name.” Y/N whispers.

“And Visera was named for Viserys. If we would’ve had a son, we might’ve named him-”

“Laenor.” She breathes, recalling the smile on Aegon’s face as they’d discussed it, over the prominent swell of her belly. Subsequently leading his kisses to trail lower…her cheeks heats up.

“Yes,” Aegon swallows. Mayhaps he is recalling the same conversation.

The twins are playing happily on the floor, with their maids when Y/N enters the room behind Aegon.

“Papa!” They race to him, waiting to be taken into his arms.

“Hello, my darlings.” He holds one in each arm, kissing their little silver heads.

The child on the left sees Y/N first, blinking at her twice, to be sure. “Mama.”

The little girl on the right follows her gaze. “Mama!”

Y/N reaches for them out of instinct, hugging them to her as they are transferred into her arms from Aegon’s. “My girls.”

————————————————————————

Time passes, Aegon and Y/N have long since accepted she will never remember everything. What they share now is different, but wonderful, nonetheless.

Aegon and their children fill Y/N’s days with joy, though she still feels a bit guilty for the life she forgot.

She and her husband sneak out of their daughters’ rooms once they’ve found sleep. Walking back towards Y/N’s apartments with their arms linked.

Aegon bids her good night at the door, with a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“Stay,” Y/N insists, turning her face enough to catch his lips.

“What are you-” Aegon smiles against her mouth.

“It hurts to look at you and not touch you.” Y/N murmurs, reeling him back in and burying her hands in his hair. “If you mean what you say, and you will be happy with me even if I am different, I want to be happy with you.”

“It pleases me to hear you say this, my darling. But are you certain?”

“I want you in my bed, always,” Y/N whispers. “Or to lie with you in yours. To wake with you each morning and spend each night at your side. Though right now there is nothing I want more than your cock in me. Is that certain enough for you?”

Aegon chuckles into her mouth, “that’ll do it.” He pushes open the door, leading her deep into her rooms, until they reach her bed chamber. He unlaces her gown with practiced hands. “Gevie.”Beautiful.

She works him out of his robes, kissing the underside of his jaw. “Gevie.”

He smirks, moving her to the bed. Positioning her sweet head against the pillows, stroking wayward hair from her face. Taking a long moment to look upon her, their gazes locked. Aegon kisses the tip of her nose. “Let us see if you remember this, shall we?”

His lips trail down her neck, across her collarbones to her breasts. Licking and suckling at the entirety of them before bringing a sensitive peak into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Y/N holds him to her.

“Mmm,” he hums, in approval as her hips buck up against his. “Anything coming to mind?”

“I’m afraid not, husband.” Y/N whines as he pulls away, “you’ll need to keep going.”

“Of course,” Aegon latches happily to the opposite nipple, flicking the first between his fingers. Lower and lower his mouth goes, swirling her navel, skating over the skin of her sex.

Y/N nearly faints as he parts her with his thumbs, exposing her pearl to his starved tongue. “Oh!” Her memory of this particular act, does it no justice.

He sighs against her, as though he’s waited the whole of his life to be in this moment with her.

She does not know how to be loved that way, or to give such love in return. But she wants to learn.

Aegon coaxes her through one peak to the next, relishing her breathless giggles as she shoves at his head.

“Enough,” she covers her face with both hands, “enough.”

Aegon chuckles, pressing a feather light kiss to her cunt before retreating, back up to her face. Caging her head between his elbows, hovering over her. “Still nothing?”

“Not a thing, perhaps if you continue.” Y/N reaches between them, taking his cock in hand and stroking, lightly.

Aegon shakes his head, “of course.”

She positions him at her entrance, feeling him slide into her with ease. As though he belongs there. Her hands find his face, stroking his cheeks, reeling him in for sweet kisses or to pant against his mouth. Committing him to memory.

“I love you,” he says, pressing kisses to her fingers, “we’re going to make new memories together, you and I.”

“I love you.” The words fall from her lips, without hesitation. “I love you.”

“I have gone too long without your touch, I will not last.” He warns.

“That’s alright.” Y/N assures him, “I’m nearly there.” Still sensitive from his tongue.

It’s all he can do to hold off until he feels her walls pulse around him, “good girl.” He groans, emptying his spend.

Y/N nuzzles her nose against his. “Aegon?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy anniversary, my love.”

His eyes open wide, meeting her gaze. “You remember?

Y/N nods, feeling tears prickle at the back of her eyes. “I am so sorry, I’ve no idea how I could forget you…us, our daughters, this life together is the world to me.”

“It was not by choice.” He rests his forehead against hers. “If I ever sustain a head injury, I’ll expect you to court me in return.”

“Mayhaps I will court you now, just because.” Y/N wants nothing more than to shower him with affection. “That story you read to me was ours, how did you get it?”

“I wrote it.” Aegon tells her, “to share one day with our children and their children’s children, their children’s children after that.”

Taglist: @21-princess @ladyriverasafepace @oh-you-mean-me @niyahnotnia @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @donalesaa @cookiesnfeesh @barnes70stark

[euthymiya]

[ ASKING PRICE — FT. KINICH ]

synopsis: kinich isn’t so happy that you spend time with ajaw. you’re more than willing to pay the price to make up for it

before you read: gender neutral reader ; established relationship ; slightly jealous kinich (of ajaw getting more attention) ; ajaw cameo! ; lots of kisses ;) (kinich not ajaw)

You laugh, and Kinich’s vein all but pops.

Normally, he’s agitated by Ajaw on most hours of most days. That much is a well known fact. But not today, though—because today, he’s absolutely infuriated. (And no, this is not on a limited, conditional, restricted, contractual, partial, temporary basis. This anger is very much here to stay and not go anywhere.)

You’re here to complete a commission with him, not spend your time giggling with a certain saurian. And your kindness is very much wasted going towards someone as pompous as Ajaw—still, there’s a part of him that admires it. Only you could manage to be kind to someone as difficult to get along with.

What he doesn’t admire, however, is that you happen to be the one person Ajaw also doesn’t mind being kind to. (Well, as kind as someone like Ajaw can get, that is.)

“—and when the Almighty Dragonlord, K'uhul Ajaw summons the howling winds, and sets the whole world ablaze, you can be the only survivor!”

It’s a grating voice, Kinich thinks distantly, rolling his eyes at the way you chuckle and give a grateful nod, entertaining the pure nonsense of a fool. Ajaw has approximately the same brain power as a dead saurian. That’s to say: none. How you manage to laugh at jokes made by such a simpleton is beyond the comprehension of someone like Kinich—but he supposes you’ve always been kind to a fault. A pity laugh certainly isn’t something you’re above, he supposes.

“Will I have the luxury of ruling by your side as your trusty sidekick?” You play along. It seems to please the dragon, earning a haughty laugh.

“I suppose you can have a small corner to call yours,” he agrees, “just make sure you push that slimy, slithering, miserly worm off a cliff and I’ll allow it.”

You glance over at Kinich as soon as the words are uttered by the obnoxious loud mouth beside you, and he can feel the last of his veins snap—that is, until you smile, giving him a playful wink.

“I’ll see what I can do,” you giggle.

“See?” Ajaw turns to look at him, making Kinich’s eye twitch ever so slightly. “You should be more like this one! The Almighty Dragonlord—h-huh? Hey!”

“Kinich!” You scold, watching as Ajaw cuts himself off with a scream, flying off into the distance from one irritated flick of Kinich’s fingers.

“What?” He huffs, crossing his arms as you throw your head back and laugh.

“You’re cute, you know. When you get like that.”

“Like what?” It comes out as a grumble. A rather petulant one, at that—he almost cringes hearing it in his own tone.

He knows what you mean, too. You know he does, so you reach over to ruffle his hair as his lips curl into a deeper frown. It’s not lost on you, however, that he almost seems to lean into your touch, almost seems to savor the feeling of your palm against his head.

“It’s cute when you’re jealous,” you tease. “Adorable, you know? Seeing you sulk is a bit rare.”

“I was not sulking,” he protests. That, of course, pulls a laugh out of you that makes him sulk even harder. “And I’m not jealous. Being jealous of Ajaw is absurd.”

“Oh but I think you were,” you nudge his shoulder, lips stretching into a knowing grin as he grunts. “Don’t worry, I’d never push you off a cliff.”

“That’s because you’d never manage to,” he shrugs. You give him a playful scowl as you huff, you don’t know that, under your breath. He fights back an amused smile, trying to keep his seriousness in tact. “Have you had enough fooling around? We have a commission to complete. You’re going to make me lose out on mora.”

“Is that so?” You say thoughtfully.

By now, Kinich knows that face. It’s not a very welcomed face, either—it means trouble for him. Some form of scheming on your end that almost always ends with you getting what you want, and almost always ends with him walking away as a loser of sorts. It’s his own fault, of course. Being powerless against your charms is a weakness he’s not entirely managed to overcome yet.

But he’s trying—and he’ll get it one day. He’s sure of it.

“I don’t like that face,” he says dryly, eyeing you cautiously.

“What face?” You gasp, mock innocence feigned even as the mischief creeps into your eyes. He can see it. Sense it. Feel it. Almost like he can tell a foe is coming even before they strike—it’s a practiced precision of sorts.

“That face you make when you’re up to something. I can tell you have something up your—”

You cut him off with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, making him go silent almost instantly. A small part of him can feel his cheeks burn, but the bigger part of him melts before he can even comprehend it.

“What if I paid you a better price,” you murmur, “and commissioned some of your time?”

A hand trails up his chest, rubbing slowly against the expanse of it over his shirt, stopping just over his heart. Evil, he wants to tell you, how evil you are to rest your palm right over his erratic heart.

Like you sense the pounding beat, you grin sweetly.

“You’ll need a better price than that,” he mumbles quietly when he finally finds his voice, clearing his throat subtly.

“Haggling over prices with me?” You pout. “Not even I can get a discount.”

“Of course not,” he says stubbornly. A strong arm wraps around you, pulling you against his sturdy chest as you bite back a grin. “I only accept offers with appropriate prices.”

“Fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes in defeat, leaning in to press a firm peck to his lips. “Will that cover it?”

“Not quite,” his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer. Impossibly closer. So close, you think his lips could knock into yours from a gentle breeze alone.

But he’s still. Patient. Painfully observant as his eyes stare into you and wait for what he wants—and, well, Kinich always gets his asking price. One way or another, he never walks away short of a single mora.

Or kiss.

So you lean in, pressing your mouth to his as your hands cup his face, tracing the skin above his cheekbone delicately as he sighs softly. His eyes flutter closed, and briefly, he thinks how nice it is when it’s just you. And him. And no Ajaw.

He should keep it like that more often.

He needs it, you think. Needs to feel you up close and personal, needs to know you’re here and staying, needs to know you’re his and only his.

He lets out a soft sound of protest when you finally break away, earning a quiet chuckle from you before you plant a sweet kiss to his jaw.

“How was that?” You whisper, kissing along his jawline, earning a small shiver of approval from him. “Was that payment enough?”

“I suppose for now,” he mumbles.

“Now you’re just being greedy,” you tease, grinning against his skin.

But you know as well as he does, you’re than happy to afford his prices. And then some, too. You’re as generous about spending as he is enthusiastic with taking.

“Or maybe you’re just being stingy,” he shoots back. With a fond shake of your head, your lips are back on his, cradling his face as he leans into you until he can’t tell where you start and where he ends.

It’s hard not to give into your charms, but he’s not so sure it’s a losing battle. It feels suspiciously close to a win, in fact—that is, if Ajaw stays far, far away. (And again, it would be nice if it was not on a limited, conditional, restricted, contractual, partial, temporary basis.)

He’s sooooo cute and his backstory literally haunts me I want to kiss him so bad you guys don’t get it. I was supposed to skip him but 173 wishes later I now have a c4 diluc and a c0r1 kinich 🥹

[pseudowho]

Fire and Iron

Forced to stay the night with Nanami Kento, the town's blacksmith, after tending to his wounds, you find yourself smouldering in his irresistible flame.

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, loss of virginity

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Your boots cracked through the ice-topped slurry puddles scattering the mud path in the village. The shawl bundled over your shoulders was not enough, and the biting cold wind whipped your cloak back, stripping its usefulness off your shivering shoulders.

Townsfolk waved to you, nodding, smiling; greetings for a familiar face, many of them grateful for your travels to their icy town over the years, lacking even a basic healer of their own, let alone one so talented.

Passing by the blacksmith's hut on your way, you paused out the front, feeling the heat bellowing forth like dragon's breath. You tipped your head back, the smell of ash and steel filling your nose. As you paused, moments after, so did the clang of hammer on anvil.

You opened your eyes, stinging in the brutal cold and smoke. You, once more, like a hundred times before, had caught the eye of the blacksmith. He, whose name you did not know. He, who looked but never touched. He, to whom you had passed so many thousands of hours of your life, and his life to you, through gaze alone.

Stood proud at the anvil, shadowing the forge like the door to hell behind him, his broad shoulders wore only an open-chested white linen shirt, and a thick brown leather apron. With his ashy blond hair, and the lines of his face filled with soot, he was ageless and unknowable. He looked to you, his sharp face quiet and impassive; expression always somewhere between fury and tranquility.

Your lips parted once, as if to speak, and it jumped the blacksmith to life. With a barely perceptible nod, and a grunt, he swung his hammer back, brought down in beautiful accuracy, shaping smouldering steel. The clang rung through you, your chest jolting with a short gasp, and you collected yourself, stepping onwards. You were sure you could feel his cool gaze through the back of your head.

Another patient; another healed. Another grateful family; another life prolonged. The days were short now, and as you stepped out of the house of rough-hewn wood and stone, the forest pines were bathed in dying light, netting the low winter sun above the horizon. It was a punishing journey home, on foot, and the horses were long since put to bed.

The blacksmith's hut held its own sunset, the forge open but unattended. You heard stamps, heavy feet and cursing. You paused in the burst of warmth, illuminated, listening. Curiosity carried your feet into the hut, the heavy wet hem of your skirts collecting ashes, absorbing the blacksmith's domain.

"Are you...are you alright?" You called, uncertain, "Sir?" The footsteps, the swearing, had stopped. You stepped further in, feeling the forge belch at you, almost excruciatingly hot now.

"Get away from there!" The bark, deep and commanding, made you squeak and stumble. Darting through the side door, the blacksmith looped one thick arm round your waist before you fell towards the forge, effortlessly lifting you round, his back to the furnace, his face in shadow.

He was close; close enough that you could smell the soft sweat, the tang of fire and metal. He hissed as your hands dropped to his forearm, and you felt a cold dripping cloth draped over it.

"Do you often wander into places uninvited?" He snipped at you. You recognised the cadence in his low voice-- pain.

"I-- ...you're hurt," you insisted, voice barely above a whisper. Looking up, your eyes tried to gauge his unreadable face in the gloom. You felt him huff, warm air across your cheeks. His arm loosened, releasing you. As he stepped back, turning away to close the forge, you saw the blacksmith's mountainous shoulders tense, twitching.

"It's nothing," he retaliated, brisk. You stepped forwards again, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. At first, he flinched, then begrudgingly allowed you to turn him, and lift the damp rag covering his forearm. A thick welting burn, running the length of his forearm, lay weeping and angry on his skin, already nicked with so many little scars. You heard his teeth grit as the air hit his wound.

"Nothing," you scoffed, "this needs dressing. Let me help you." You felt him flinch beneath your hands, hesitant. He felt his skin prickle under yours, finding such curious pleasure in your touch alongside his pain. Your beseeching eyes took him the rest of the way, and he found himself accepting you.

"I...not here," the blacksmith toned, his eyes flitting to the town around him, "if they believe me injured, I'll lose business." You nodded, rummaging in your overburdened satchel, until he took you gently by the hand.

"My home," he began, hesitant, your hand so soft and small in his broad calloused palm, "you'll...you are welcome. It is clean. Quiet. I...I will not harm you. I promise."

Aware of his size and strength, aware of the air of mystery surrounding him amongst the townsfolk, the blacksmith was quick to reassure you. Your eyes softened, and his thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles at your words, electricity crackling up your arm.

"I know you won't," you assured. The briefest smile graced his severe face when you offered your name. You felt it warm you from the belly downwards. As he pulled encouragingly on your fingers, leaving the forge to die naturally with the approaching nightfall, you were led through the back of the hut, seeing a newly revealed sprawling cabin of wood and stone, at the edge of the forest. You felt the first kiss of snow upon your cheek.

"Nanami Kento," the blacksmith replied, welcoming you over the threshold. You smiled up at him, taking in his home; barely lit, at first, until he struck a lantern to life. You placed your bag upon a table, rummaging for salves as Kento began to build the fire, skilled and efficient.

You basked in the homely room; autumnal tapestries lining the walls, skin rugs on the floor and furs on the chairs, hanging herbs above a countertop, circled with hung skillets and pans. You relaxed easily into the sincerity of Kento's welcome. A frigid wind slapped the windows, rattling the door.

Before long, an enormous cast iron pot boiled with water, and you knelt before Kento, appraising his wound in the orange glow. Cleaning your hands, wetting a rag with clean water, you moved to clean the ash from his arm before pausing.

"This will hurt," you apologised, looking up to him. Kento's heart stuttered; how many hours had he spent, imagining those sweet eyes, those gentle fingers? Too long. Too many words unspoken over too many years. He was not used to such tenderness.

"I am used to pain," he hushed, smooth and barely audible above the crackle of flame, "my job has certain...hazards, after all." You hummed, swiping the cloth gently, removing dirt and debris.

"Still," you hummed, "I don't like to hurt a friend." Kento chuckled, and you felt yourself blush from hairline to toes at the rich mirth of it.

"We are...friends, are we?" His voice was low and conspiratorial, and you felt it stir a hunger deep within you. You smiled back, mulish as you dabbed salve onto his burn. His knees were parted, with you knelt between them, and your elbows rested on the thick muscle of his thighs. You felt safe, warm, held.

"All those years, passing back and forth," you sighed, teasing, "and not one hello? Just lots of nods," your stomach swooped as Kento laughed again, "and our friendship is just that. An accumulation of nods."

"Would we have stopped at 'hello'?" Kento retaliated. He caught the brief pause in your bandaging, before you continued. You spoke, uncertain again.

"Well," you hummed, testing the water, "offer me one now...and we shall see where it goes." Looking up, you gasped to find your face just inches from Kento's. He smiled at you, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips and back up again.

"Hello," he whispered, quiet and mischievous, "and thank you."

Your breath fluttered out; Kento could feel it against his lips, beckoning him.

"I...it's getting late," you started, and Kento blinked out of his reverie, glancing to the inky black outside his windows, "I should go."

Kento grasped your fingers once more, rising with you as he stood, your shawl shushing against his chest, barely covered by his soft linen shirt. Kento hummed, sounding grave, stepping to the other side of the room.

"It is night," he said, hands cupped around his eyes as he squinted out of the windows, "and the woods are barely safe in the day. I...I cannot allow you to travel. Alone, in the snow. You must stay."

His tone broached no argument, yet still you tried, packing your bag, your cheeks aflame.

"I...it isn't..." you stuttered, and Kento turned to you, chin inclined to the floor, one fine eyebrow raised. You took a deep breath, certain that if you didn't leave now, you may fall too deeply into Kento's insistent heat. Yet...you knew he was right. The path was treacherous. The snow would take you before the dawn.

"Would you like a bath?" Kento offered, turned away to save you your blushes; a gentleman.

"I-- please don't go to any trouble--" Kento swiftly ignored you, beginning to grasp the enormous iron pot, lifting it with stunning ease. His voice didn't even hitch.

"It's no trouble. I bathe every night. You can go before me." Kento carried the pan, stepping behind a folding wooden screen, and you followed him as if to argue, watching him begin to fill an enormous copper bathtub. Your hands shook as you began to remove your shawl, still blushing, so briefly overwhelmed before squashing it down.

Kento glanced up at you, pausing as he poured hot water, "This will take me some time," he said, apologetic, "please make yourself comfortable. I'll call for you."

You nodded, clearing your throat, hands twisting in your removed shawl. Kento chastised himself for admiring the soft curve of your breasts into your waist, the hidden delight of the swelling of your hips beneath your heavy skirts. He did not see how the steam rose fast, dampening his white shirt, how you could see all the way to his navel as he leaned over the bath. Neither of you knew how the other stirred within.

As you walked the length of the room, your fingertips brushing tapestries and grazing over warm furs, your curiosity drew you to a wide, flat trinket box, inlaid with mother of pearl, the colours an aurora in the rolling firelight. You stroked the box just once, before lifting the lid.

Your eyes crinkled immediately with joy at the treasures within; the box was full of lovingly crafted necklaces of gold, silver, pearl and gem, the chains finer and softer than any you had ever seen. You did not feel Kento approach as you admired them.

"I'd like for you to choose one," he offered, sincere, as you spun to face him. He raised his hands placatingly, a smile at the edge of his mouth, "not in lieu of payment, of course. A gift, I...made them with no real aim as to who should receive them."

"You made these?" You gaped, unable to fathom how such enormous hands crafted such intricate delights, "Kento, I-- they're beautiful, I couldn't possibly..."

If Kento had held any reservation, after hearing his name tumble from your lips, he was filled with the burning certainty that the jewellery should be for you, and you alone. His hand closed over yours as you moved to shut the box.

"Please," he breathed, so close, "choose one, or I shall give you them all." Swallowing, your hand hovered over a fine chain of silver and emerald, your fingertips brushing the gem. Kento hummed his approval, before picking it up, his calloused fingers all softness and grace.

"My favourite, too," he rumbled, brushing your hair off the nape of your neck as he clipped the necklace into place. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers on your neck, and almost ran as he whispered beside your ear, "Your bath is ready."

Stripping behind the wooden screen, hearing Kento amble around the room beyond, you sighed as the hot water enveloped you. Washing yourself with a soft sponge, cleaning off the grime of the day, your hand wandered absentmindedly downwards, fingertips grazing through your folds, naturally moving to relieve yourself of the building tension--

"I've left you a shirt." Your hand darted upwards with a guilty splash, Kento's voice only meters away behind the screen.

"Thank-- thank you," you squeaked, blushing, before climbing out, so naked apart from your exquisite new necklace. Drying on a soft towel, your hand hesitated over the shirt draped over the screen, before pulling it on over damp skin. It reached down your thighs, but left little else to the imagination.

Kento remained outwardly stoic, unreadable, averting his gaze as you crept out, arms holding yourself and squashing your breasts together, the colour of your nipples as faint as a ghost under the white linen shirt. He cleared his throat, coughing lightly before skirting past to the bath. You felt heat creep up your neck at the gossamer hush of his clothes hitting the floor, the shifting water as he stepped in, the way he sighed in relief, almost as if--

"I shall sleep in the chair tonight," Kento said, slow and considered, "and you shall have my bed." You felt indignation roll within you.

"Don't be ridiculous," you scolded, "you're injured, and this is your home--"

'-- and you are my guest," he grumbled.

"I won't allow it," you insisted, almost forgetting yourself as you approached the wooden screen, "I'll put some furs on the floor and--"

"You believe I would let you sleep on the floor?" He growled, furious at your suggestion, "I should rather you have me share the bed with you over that--"

"Fine. Then we shall share the bed. And there will be no more argument." You clapped a hand over your mouth as the words tumbled forth, unbidden. Mortified by your own suggestion, you removed your hand to speak again.

Kento stepped round from behind the screen, his towel draped lazily round his waist. You gaped up at him, stunned. He was...younger than you thought, his blond hair now soft and floppy, the ash removed from the lines in his face, taking ten years off him. You faced him, his towering form, the practiced rolls, peaks and planes of muscle belonging to a working man, his forearms so thick--

"Then...we should get to bed," Kento insisted, stepping past you, through a doorway to his bedroom, where you heard him rummaging for clothes, "it is late and I am up with the lark."

You hesitated where you stood, feeling your heartbeat between your legs, desperately curious, but paralysed.

"I don't bite," Kento called out, and you gulped down the sounds of soft fabric dropping over his body, still crippled with indecision and embracing yourself as he stepped out to put out the fire. You were lost momentarily in darkness before he stepped to you, the lantern between you, a beacon in the dark. You felt his hand close around your fingers again. You heard him whisper.

"It will become cold quickly, now the fire has died. Come. Stay warm."

You allowed yourself to be led to Kento's bedroom, hypnotised by the small swinging lantern. Kento led your hand downwards, placing it to the edge of the bed for you to feel your way, your fingers gliding through soft fur and cool sheets. With shaking hands, you crawled across to the head of the bed. Kento waited for you, flipping down the sheets, flipping them back up to your chin as you both slipped between them.

You heard nil but your own heartbeat. Kento faced you, the torch light embering behind him leaving him only just visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. The sheets had not yet warmed from your bodies, and you shivered. You felt Kento shift beside you.

"You...are cold," he stated as if in question. You remained quiet, gripping your hands to your chest lest they reach out for him.

"I'm...I'll warm up. Soon," you reassured yourself as much as him. You heard one doubtful grunt from him. Five minutes passed, and still, Kento felt you shiver against the sheets. Pulling a fur up to your chins, he felt prickles up his legs as one of your feet reached hesitantly out to touch him. He felt rather than heard you sigh.

"So warm," you whispered, your little voice soft with comfort in the dark. Kento's breath caught in his chest, feeling his cock twitch inside his soft trousers.

"Do you...need me?" He offered. He felt your other foot reach out in answer, cold toes wiggling against the downy hair on his leg. He felt a dangerous, needy arousal thread through him.

Reaching out his uninjured arm, he hooked it round your waist, chuckling as you squeaked when he pressed against you. You hummed in pleasure at the heat rolling off him, basking in his warmth, forgetting your awkwardness for a moment. Kento and you lay intertwined like that, with you softening like butter in his arms.

After a few minutes, you shifted against him, about to drift off to sleep. Kento must have been near sleep as well, groaning into your hair as you shifted, reflexively clinging you closer to him. Your bottom, completely bare with his shirt shifted up your body, pressed back to his groin. His clothed cock was hard and barely restrained in his loose trousers, and pressed between your thighs.

You felt a jolt run through you, feeling a warm trickle of arousal, so alien to you, seep out between your thighs. Kento almost saw stars as it dampened the trousers over his cockhead, and he frowned, his forehead pressed to your shoulder blade in apology and embarrassment.

"I-- I'm sorry, I--...it's been so long...since I've felt a woman-- shit, I'm--" Kento rested his nose against your neck, unable to stop himself from ghosting his lips there. You dropped your head back to him, and he growled in appreciation, nuzzling your neck, feeling your thighs clamp around the tip of his cock, your arousal seeping through his trousers and mixing with his own.

"I've never--" you whispered, blushing furiously, drunk on the feeling of his body against yours, feeling so curiously empty and aching to be filled. Kento understood immediately, and moved to pull back.

"No!" You squeaked, holding onto his arm, pushing yourself back to chase him along the bed, "Please, I-- I want--...you. I want you." Your words sat heavy in the air. Kento shifted behind you, at war with himself.

"You don't know what you're asking," he growled, fighting against you to remove his arm, "I am no boy."

"And I'm no girl, nor stupid," you reassured, "I'm not ignorant."

In an instant, Kento moved above you, on all fours, his arms caging you in, corseting you to his bed. He stared down at you, enormous chest heaving, eyes roving down your body, quickly intoxicated by your peaked nipples, beneath his shirt, the hem of it barely covering your sex, still feeling your arousal dampening his cock.

He leaned down, nestling his mouth against your neck again, tongue flicking out, tasting you. He felt you still under his lips, just a little mouse, in the jaws of a bear.

"And yet, all that knowledge is just academic, until you're crying out that my cock is too big for you," he growled, warning you away, barely able to stop himself. He felt you squirm beneath him, his head swimming with you. He was lost, then, to your tiny whisper in the gloom.

"Show me-- please." Kento shuddered, a drop of pre-cum seeping out of his cock, soaking through his trousers and your-- his-- shirt, to dampen your belly. You shivered, desperate to know Kento biblically, desperate for this fabled ecstasy.

Kento raised his mouth from your neck, reading your eyes, seeing such certainty in them. Tangling his fingers with yours beneath the sheets, he pressed the length of his body down against you as he kissed you, his other hand framing your jaw, gently encouraging it open to slide his tongue against yours. Your soft little moan was like music to his ears.

Kissing you deeply, learning your voice and your mouth, letting you learn the peaks and planes of his body with your free hand, Kento kept your other hand plaited with his own, fearful of leaving you to take this journey alone.

He felt himself shudder with the unbridled privilege of being able to worship you, jealously grateful that you had not been left to some boy. He was overwhelmed by the need to set your standards high at the first hurdle.

"Let me taste you," he murmured into your mouth, and you hesitated, unsure of what he meant. Swiping his thumb across your palm, Kento's mouth ventured downwards, sucking the skin of your neck, nipping before soothing the skin with his tongue, feeling you become pliable, supple as water. His fingers danced over the laces holding your shirt together, giving you opportunity to stop him, before untying them, freeing your breasts.

Laying his tongue flat over one nipple, Kento allowed it to curve to the shape of you, to know you, before drawing it into his mouth, sucking on your nipple while his hand toyed with and kneaded the other. He revelled in your whines, a high, keening mewl as you arched off the bed into his mouth. You felt his licks and sucks, curiously, between your legs, and you could not help but buck up against him.

Kento grunted at the feeling of your pussy pressing against his thigh, and moved one hand down to hold your hips still.

"Slow down-- let me show you," he ordered, gentle in his insistence. You trembled under his fingertips, your hips settling back to the bed. He rumbled his approval, rolling your nipple under his tongue again until you sighed, breathy and ecstatic, "Good girl."

In reward, his mouth continued to trail downwards, and your eyes fluttered closed, one hand coming to rest on the back of his head, your fingernails scratching through his damp hair. Kento shivered at the sensation, feeling his cock leap against his thigh.

When his mouth reached your mound, you squeaked out in alarm, flipping the blankets down to see Kento, illuminated in the orange light.

"What are you-- your mouth, Kento--" Kento's eyes crinkled up at you, and two arms came to loop round the top of your thighs, pulling you down the bed towards him, your shirt being rucked up against the drag of the mattress to completely expose your glistening pussy to him.

Maintaining eye contact with you, you trembled with anticipation as Kento poked his tongue out into a point, first grazing your folds, before stroking from side to side to ease in between them. The sound that broke out from you as his tongue stroked over your clit, hot and wet, was one Kento masturbated to for years to come.

You felt as though you had been lifted from earth and dropped amongst the clouds as he licked at you, sucking, stroking, tasting, the pleasure so otherworldly compared to what your own hand could achieve, that you felt yourself being rushed towards your peak at speed.

Twisting and squirming against his mouth, you reflexively tried to pull your pussy away from Kento's attentions. His arms tightened around the tops of your thighs, growling into you, pulling you back as you tried to scoot away. Your hand tugged at his hair as you arched, whimpering, coated in a fine sweat. As Kento groaned into your cunt, you watched his hips roll and hump against the bed, the sight alone enough to send your orgasm crashing through you, and you worshipped his name in a long, keening cry.

Kento let his laps and sucks become softer, languid, letting you float through the haze of your pleasure. Nuzzling at you, tasting you as you trailed lazy blissful fingers through his hair, Kento planted soft kisses to your inner thigh.

Moving back up, stroking his nose against your neck, Kento felt your hand move down his shoulders and back, before coming round to ghost over the front of his trousers. Kento shuddered, kneeling above you to remove his shirt, skin prickling with the need to feel yours against his own.

Gazing down at you, his eyes like whiskey in the flickering light, he grazed a palm from in between your breasts, down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head in one swift tug, exposing you completely to him.

Your hand still trailed over his groin as he knelt, and you were captivated, obsessed with the shape, weight and length of his cock in your hands, blissfully unaware of what you were doing to him. As you grasped the lace at the front of his trousers, undoing it, and squeezing the head of his cock between your fingers, Kento moaned, ragged, leaning one hand sideways to support himself.

"Fuck-- I haven't-- not for so long," he moaned, low and husky, feeling your inexperienced fingers explore his cock and balls in a way that felt almost abusively naive. As your thumb glided beneath his foreskin, collecting the wetness of his pre-cum, exploring his slit, Kento hissed, panting and grabbing your hand.

You broke out of your reverie, blushing with mortification, tears pricking in your eyes as you began to apologise. Kento interrupted, shushing you, one hand still gripping your fingers around his cock, the other coming up to cup your face, his thumb swiping across your cheek.

"Not you," he huffed, stroking your cheek, smiling down at you with fevered eyes, "me, it's-- I-- I'll cum in your hand if you carry on." Your eyes glimmered, hungry to see how he looked as you pleasured him, and you moved yourself, leaning close, squeezing him again beneath his own hand, and he cried out in pleasure. You felt another drip of his arousal across your fingers, and you gulped, your tongue darting out across your lips.

As you lowered yourself to his lap, Kento's eyebrows raised in shock, and desperate awe, as you licked the weeping cockhead sticking out from your joined enclosed hands.

A low rumble ebbed through Kento, his eyes suddenly dark and hungry as he looked down at you, wordlessly using your hand inside his own, to pump the length of his cock. Feeling the intoxicating glide of soft skin over woody hardness, you let him use your hand to masturbate himself as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, licking, tasting the musty pre-cum there.

Every instinct screamed at Kento to chase his orgasm, to press your head further down his cock so he could use your little hand to jack off into your mouth, and he felt overwhelmed by the innocent licks and sucks you gave him, eyes cast upwards to see what effect they had on him. Kento moaned desperately, twisting on his haunches, fingers in turn tangling into your hair and coming away, clenching and unclenching at speed.

He felt the approaching rush of divine ecstasy, thrumming up his back in waves, his balls tightening up against the base of his cock--

Snapping, Kento pulled your hand and mouth off him, heaving you up the bed and back onto the pillows, before pinning you down with his body, panting into your neck, trying not to spill his seed over your belly. You were thrilled, ecstatic with Kento's pleasure, eager to see more of it.

You crept your hips up to his, trying to ease his cock into you. Kento huffed, his hand shooting down to press your hips down again.

"--going to kill me-- I swear-- no idea...you have no idea what you're doing to me--" Kento panted, quaking above you, one forearm planted above your head. As his peak ebbed away, Kento plaited his hand with your own again, above your head. He felt his cockhead resting against the smooth resistance of your entrance, and he suddenly felt so responsible for you.

"I don't want to hurt you," he huffed, aware he was bigger than average, but knowing from the fevered look in your eyes that he could not dissuade you-- not that he wanted to, at this point, his cock throbbing with urgent need.

"Please," you begged, "please." You felt Kento's hips press forwards into your soaking wet heat, feeling a slight sting as it met resistance. Kento rested his nose to yours, his eyes still feverish, his body still smelling of iron and ash and smoke.

"On one condition," he pressed, authoritative as his cockhead pressed deeper against your stinging resistance, breaking past thin membrane, gripping your thigh up to his hip as you trembled, biting your lip, tears in your eyes as you nodded-- anything, you thought, anything.

"Marry me," he whispered against your lips, and you squeaked as you felt a twang of pain, his cock suddenly nestled deeply inside you. Kento rocked his hips gently, shushing you, soothing you, his thumb stroking your palm. Not moving, just holding you as you adjusted to feeling so full, Kento waited for an answer.

"Y--yes...yes," you mewled, and Kento growled his approval against your neck, slowly pulling out of you before rutting back into your wet, tender pussy again, so intimate and deep that you cried out for him.

Kento rolled his hips, like a boat on the waves, whispering into you, certain he wouldn't last long; "First-- I'll cum inside you-- then I'll treat you like a queen...haaah...for the rest of my days."

You clung to Kento, lost in the ecstasy of him plowing into you, delighted by his rumbling groans in your ears, blissfully proud of being able to make such an unflappable man fall apart inside you. When his grip on your hip faltered, his shaking hand dropping to stroke quick little circles around your clit, Kento growled and bit into your neck to feel you rock your hips upwards to meet his own.

The sting almost completely eased, you felt quick pangs of pleasure, rising with every beat of your fast little heart, completely carried along by the eroticism of Kento's frantic groans and mumbles into your ear.

"My love I-- you feel so good...so good...god, I need to cum, need you to cum I-- aahhhh, fuck--" Kento felt your pussy clench around him, and he came inside you as you drank down his moans, fascinated by how they matched up with the bounding twitch of his cock, how his hips juddered into you involuntarily, how his face contorted, jaw clenched, somewhere between rage and serenity.

You were famished, starved of him, immediately desperate for more, and you felt him crumple into you, caging you in, shoulders heaving and spent. Kento chuckled as you peppered him with kisses, gripping your thighs round him and rolling him over so you lay above him, straddling him as his cock softened within you.

With his chin on his chest to look down to you, and a lazy lopsided smile across his face, Kento played idly with your hair, stroking your nose, your cheeks. He proudly fingered the beautiful necklace, resting against your breasts, squashed and plush against him.

"You meant it?" He asked, eager, concerned.

You hummed in delight, pressing a tender kiss to his chest as you nodded; "You had me at 'hello'."

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Would the anon who requested Blacksmith!Kento PLEASE STAND UP so I can credit you for breaking my brain.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Cooler Heads Will Prevail

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: it's too hot to do anything in the States. Except apparently write Aemond x Reader smut about how it's too hot.

tags: heterosexual sex, fingering, sex outdoors, aemond speaking High Valyrian cause it's sexy, Vhagar being sassy in the background. 

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“Gods how can you stand to wear that?”

You felt ten times hotter just looking at your husband, dressed in his traditional black & leathers, as he sat next to you while you baked in this heat. Even with all the windows and curtains open, dressed in the thinnest dress that modesty could cling to, and servants fanning you both like Dornish aristocracy, you still felt like you were melting.

“It is all a matter of perspective, my dear wife.” Aemond replied. Not looking up from his book. “And will power.”

You groan and drop your own book, spreading out as far as your limbs would go on the chaise. You despised these hot summers. Everything was hot. Everything you touched, including yourself, was sticky. You felt like every breath was drawing in more hot air, which in turn made you hotter, and considerably cranky. It was too hot to do anything.

Aemond glanced up at you with his good eye, then closed his books. The servants scatter when the prince stood. Taking away what little precious, if fruitless, relief you had. “Are you really that miserable?” He asked, leaning over you with one arm pressed against the back of the chaise.

“Just look at me.”

“I am.” His mouth coiled into a smirk as he leaned further down to kiss you.

But you turn your head away with an unsatisfied huff. “It’s too hot.” Though you loved Aemond unconditionally, apparently it had its limits. He’d have to wait until the sun went down, at the very least, before you would consider touching him.

The prince huffed. “Fine. Get up.”

You didn’t have time to ask Aemond why before he was grabbing your hand and hoisting you to your feet. Dragging you along behind him as you tried to keep up with his impressive gait thanks to those long legs.

Your protests & questions stopped halfway through your journey, and Aemond finally let your hand go once the two of you reached the Dragonpit. Vhagar’s indominable frame taking up most of the space a lotted to her as she coolly acknowledged her rider then settled back down. “What are we doing here?”

“Leaving the city.” Aemond was already mounting Vhagar. Settled into her saddle before he reached out to you with his hand.

You often dreamed of being a dragon rider. To be up in the skies. To command giants. But you didn’t have the blood for it. Instead, you just admired them from afar. “I thought you said Vhagar didn’t like secondary riders.”

“Vhagar does not like any rider but me.” He clarified. “But she will not harm you. Trust me.”

You did trust Aemond. Still, you glance over to Vhagar, looking into her giant eye for permission, who looked back at you for a long moment before she blinked with her inner lid and turned her gaze from you. You took that as a yes and grabbed Aemond’s hand.

He hoisted you up into the saddle with ease. Seating you in front of him. His legs on either side of you as he fastened you both to the harness before taking the reins. “sōvēs Vhagar.”

The dragon rose from her seat. Seeming annoyed about it, but you couldn’t be sure. She took three long strides before her wings were aloft and you were up in the air. You close your eyes tight. Gripping Aemon’s thighs on either side as you felt your stomach try to drop all the way back to the ground. “Open your eyes.” Aemond’s voice brushed against your ear, louder than the rushing air around you. You do as he says. With one at first, then opening both to see the beautiful bright sky around you and white, fluffy clouds. It was breath taking.

You aren’t brave enough to look down, but after a while Aemond shouted, “tegot Vhagar,” and the dragon circled around a patch of Earth before gracefully hurling itself towards it.

When you landed Aemond undid your bindings and jumped down. He held his arms out towards you, waiting for you to jump, and easily caught you when you fell into his open arms. “Where are we Aemond?”

The prince shrugged, “somewhere North.” That was all he said before he stalked off into the woods past the clearing.

You look around and admire the beauty of the small forest, before you follow after your husband. Vhagar seemed fine on her own to resume her nap while you both went on your walk to wherever Aemond was going. “Aemond, what are we doing here?”

“You said you were hot.” He told you. In a tone that implied ‘we just talked about this’ as he cut through the path.

“Yes. But why are we here?” It was significantly cooler, but still summer. The balminess of the city had been replaced with the natural humidity of the trees. One evil for a lesser one.

Aemond didn’t answer this time and instead pushed past the last of the greenery to reveal a second clearing. Sun dappled, with trees and flowers circling a natural freshwater pond, in a perfect idyllic scene. “Gods…It’s beautiful.”

“We did not come all this way just to look at it.”

You turn to Aemond to see him already unbuttoning his jerkin. “You cannot be serious.” Apparently, he was, as he was already tossing his jerkin aside and pulling off his under tunic. “Aemond?? We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“Exactly. No one will find us.” His belt, boots, and pants quickly made it into the pile. His small clothes next. Then finally his eye patch. “Are you coming or not?” You stare at Aemond, a little slack jawed, as he stood there completely naked. As if you were the crazy one for not joining him.

Fingers carefully come up to your lacings. Fumbling with the strings as your embarrassment makes the digits unable to cooperate properly. Aemond was right, no one would see you. But this was still the first time you had been naked ‘in public’. Ladies did not go around the world in the nude. Although, apparently, a Targaryen’s woman did.

Aemond grinned as he watched you let loose your dress, then walked backwards a few paces before he turned and walked over to one of the rocks. Standing on it, like some Valyrian statue, before he jumped in. You were not nearly as brave, and shyly stepped into the water from its calm shore with your hands protecting your modesty.

The water was like ice on your overheated skin, but it felt so good! You let out a sigh and relax. Sinking neck deep into the water as you pulled your knees to your chest to float. “Feeling better?” You turn to look at Aemond as he swam up to you. His long hair floating behind him like a silver net. Looking more triton than dragon at the moment. You offer him a soft smile and nod.

The prince smiled back. Then he floated to his center before he stood, able to reach the bottom and have the water just barely brush past his navel. “Can I kiss you now?”

You looked up at Aemond, who was looking back down at you, waiting for an answer. Your smile broadens and you release your knees to stand on your own feet as well. The water just barely kissing your breasts in comparison. “Yes Aemond, you can kiss me.”

He looked so pleased. As if all this effort was worth it as he took your chin in his fingers to tilt your lips to his. You moan at the first contact of his tongue against yours. Hells…how long had it been since you kissed him properly.

You had not been joking when you said it was too hot to do anything. That included laying with your husband. Though you shared the same bed, the most you had done for the past weeks was brief kisses & touches before shunting off to your separate corners of the mattress. Desperate not to add anymore heat to your person.

Now that you were cooled off, a renewed heat was swelling up inside you. “Aemond…”

The man in question pulled back just a hair’s breadth to look at you. The hand once tilting up your chin now brushing water droplets from your cheek. “I have missed you, issa jorrāelagon.”

“I know.” And you felt guilty for that. “I’ve missed you too.” Together seperately had been the way things had been with this heat. But now you were somewhere cool, calm, and secluded with your husband.

You latch on to Aemond like a drowning man. His body your life raft. His kiss your air. He pulled you in with equal fervor and you felt his longing press against your belly. Hot and hard, despite the cold water. “Aemond…” You gasp again. Intentionally brushing against him to feel more of his manhood and eager to have not against your belly but inside it. “Please…”

The prince growled and kissed you again. His teeth nipping possessively at your lips this time, before he pulled you into his arms and wrapped your legs around him. Carrying you out of the water with ease and laying you on the soft grass that would be your marriage bed for the afternoon.

Aemond continued to kiss you. Letting you go for a moment before peppering your lips, face, and neck with more kisses. As if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do next with you. “You should be like this at all times.”

“Underneath you?” You respond cheekily.

“Naked.” He corrected. Your head tipping back as his arm slipped betwixt you and his fingers began toying with your sex. “You wouldn’t be so hot. And we would no longer have to deal with those ridiculous laces.”

“I don’t think your mother would appreciate such a ‘casual’ manner of dress at court.” You gasp sharply as two of Aemond’s fingers suddenly slipped inside you. Clearly a diversion in the conversation as he doesn’t want to talk about his mother right now.

“Hmmm…it is probably for the best. I’d gouge out the eye of any man who would look at you besides me. Then I would no longer be unique.”

“Certainly less fashionable.” Another sharp gasp escapes you as Aemond’s fingers curled up inside you against that spot that made you see stars. Silently telling you that if you didn’t stop with the cheek you were going to get it. ‘Good’ you thought.

His fingers continued to work you open as his mouth swallowed your cries. “Aemond!” You shouted when his thumb brushed against your pearl. Pushing at his shoulders while your legs shook at the intense feeling, but he wouldn’t stop. He let you go long enough to let your climax cry come out clearly. Loud and pure. Birds fluttering off in the distance that were startled by the sound.

“You’re so beautiful when you quake for me.”

“Only you.”

Your hand came up to stroke his face. Hard lines. Soft expression. Your fingertip brushes against just the end of his scar before trailing down to flick his bottom lip. Red and swollen from your kissing. Vibrant against his cool, alabaster skin. Perfect.

“Make me quake for you again my love.” Your legs splayed wide for him. Making space for him and his cock in your drooling cunt.

Aemond doesn’t have to be told anything twice and he descended on you. Lining up his cock, pushing it inside you with coiled control just waiting to snap, waiting there until you were ready. You let him know you were ready by jutting your hips a bit. Your prince looking at your face for a moment to make sure before that coiled control snapped clean.

The two of you rut in the forest like animals. Grunting and moaning and the wet sound of slapping skin. Aemond spread your legs wider for him. Letting him thrust harder and deeper into you. Your head fell back against the damp grass. The sweet smell mixed with your sweat making you dizzy while the sharp climb towards a second climax made you lightheaded.

You will your eyes open to look at Aemond. His eye fixed only on you. Almost completely black like the stories portrayed him. Black enough that it looked as though it had bled into his sapphire. But this was not the eyes of a monster, but a beast. Your beast. Your one and only, as this look as just for you.

“A-Aemond!” You shout again. Fingers clenched in his wet tresses. Whole body shaking around him this time. Aemond’s teeth clenched to the point they look like they might break before he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His own hips stuttered as his warmth filled you up.

The two of you laid there for a moment. Catching your breath. Sated in one another until Aemond likely feels he’s too heavy for you and rolls off you to the side. “We should head back.”

You turn your head to look at him. Wounded. Did it have to be right now? “The sun will be setting soon. It will not be as hot upon our return.”

You look back up at the sky and indeed see the shadows had gotten longer since your arrival. “Must we?”

Aemond chuckled at your plea. Rolling back over to your side to coil his body around you like a serpent. Head on your shoulder. You know he had missed this almost as much as the other. “Not right now.” He agreed. “But soon. We can come back whenever you’d like though.”

“Tomorrow?” He laughed again.

“Whenever you’d like.”

The two of you bask in the moment and beautiful scenery for a little while longer. Enjoying the cool and the quite before you had to return to the hot and the mayhem. You dress in silence. Then Aemond walked you both back down the path towards his dragon. Vhagar not seeming to notice one way or the other that you’ve been gone.

The heat hits you instantly once you break the perimeter of the city. Cooler than before but still sweltering. “I’m going to take a cool bath before bed.” You tell your prince as he gave his dragon a few goodbye pet before he left her for the day. “Care to join me?”

Only one thing could pull Aemond’s attention away from his dragon, and he turned to look over his shoulder at you with a smug grin. “Missing me already, issa jorrāelagon.”

“Oh yes.” You playfully agree as you walk backwards when Aemond came close. “I don’t know. Something about dragon riding puts me in the mood for….‘dragon riding’.”

The true rider grinned and closed the gap between you with quick ease. “Why do you think I seem never to want to keep my hands off you?” He pulled you in for a new kiss. Passionate, yes, but not nearly as fierce as before. You were back in the walls. Back in your cages. You had to be restrained lest other people talked. Because gods forbid a man & a wife actually fancied each other. He let you go and it was your turn to lead Aemond by the hand.

The weather was hot. But summer would eventually break. By the time winter came you intended to know all sorts of new ways to keep warm.

[emmyrosee]

NO WAY I HAVE A THOUGHT HOLD ONN

I just saw this TikTok of this girl that has a bf w a lot of tattoos and she gets this colourful eyeshadow pallet from her makeup bag to COLOUR IN THE TATTOO if u get what I mean like the tattoo could be like a butterfly or a dragon AND SHE COLOURS IT IN WITH HER COLOURFUL EYESHADOW PALETTE and omg I IMMEDIATELY thought of SUKUNA it’s be such a cute interaction 🥹🥹

-Anon🥢

GOD THIS IS SO CUTE-

——

Sukuna naps. More than he should.

He can fall asleep anywhere and everywhere, for long stretches of time that you should be concerned with, had he not been doing it since the beginning of your relationship.

Your first date was not worth paying for a movie, candy and popcorn, when he merely slept the whole time. You could’ve done it for free at home.

Regardless, here you were, repeating history as he snores loudly next to you, his arms crossed as he sleeps soundly, lips parted to let out small little huffs. You sigh and grab your phone to scroll, no longer interested in the movie without having someone to talk to about it.

The first thing to pop up, has you smirking, with a girl shading in her boyfriends tattoos with eyeshadow. Granted, sukuna doesn’t have shapes of tattoos, but he has plenty of tan skin to cover.

You squeal and run to grab your palette and a brush, suddenly more excited than you realized to color in your boyfriend.

You start with a gentle touch on the circle of his shoulder, dipping into a peach that looks enough like his skin tone if he were to wake up.

When he doesn’t, that’s you’re cue to keep going. It doesn’t take long before he’s absolutely covered in pigment.

The small bit of skin between the tattoos on his chest are quick to be colored in, your brush gently dusting over his skin to apply the color. His face twitches but ultimately, he stays asleep. You deem him out of it enough to straddle his lap, allowing you more access to his tattoos and tanned skin, nearly laughing as he stays asleep, arms laid limp at his sides.

Bright pink blends into bright purple in the gaps of his tattoos, and in the gap of skin below the ink, mint green turns to light blue. You smile and clean your brush with another swirl on a paper towel, dipping into a lilac color and swirling it on the slender bit of skin on his bicep above the skin not needled with ink.

Your brush trails a tad too close to under his arm, and he scrunches his face and shakes you off. You pause, holding your breath, but you’re out of luck as he screws his eyes tight and grunts in exhaustion.

“Whyre you tickling me?” He grumbles, stretching awake and smacking his lips together. “I’ll kill you. We’ve been over this.”

“I’m not,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek and brushing a lock of hair off of his forehead. “How was your nap?”

“S’good.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms, and when he blinks his eyes open to look at you, his brows furrow at the colorful eyeshadow palette on your lap, “you doing some makeup shit?”

You sink your teeth into your lip, “uhm… kind of?”

“The fuck you mean kind of? It’s a yes or no-“ red eyes fall to his arm, face flat as he eyes the colors splashed over his body, some blended in together, others just solid colors filled onto his skin. You laugh nervously as he continues to look down at his torso. “So, you want me to beat the shit out of you?”

“No,” you giggle. “I wanted to make you prettier.”

“I’m already pretty enough, don’t use my body like a damn coloring book, you freak.” He stretches his arms out, brows furrowing as he sees the full extent of your coloring, “fucking- how mUCH EYESHADOW DID YOU USE?”

“Not a lot!” You defend. “It’s a pigmented palette.”

He glares at you, “and you’ve got the nerve to ask me to buy your fuckin’ makeup when this is the shit you pull!”

“You’re the one who fell asleep in the middle of the movie!” You whine, shoving his chest gently. “I needed to entertain myself somehow!”

He catches your shoving hand into his big one, and you gulp nervously, “I’m old. I sleep a lot. This ain’t news.”

The fact he hasn’t yelled at you tells you everything you need to know, and you grab your brush again to continue. “Hey! I’m scolding you, dickhead!”

“Im listening,” you assure, popping the brush into the yellow and moving to the other tattooed circle on his shoulder. “Youre old, I know, you like sleeping, I know-“

“That was not an invitation for you to keep coloring!” He hissed.

You look back up at him though your lashes, pouting subtly, “aw, jeez- fuck you, you know that?” He snarls, and when you blink at him, he rolls his eyes and sits up to be nose-to-nose with you. “Stay out of my armpits. Do not color my face. And so help me, if you take any pictures-“ when your pout deepens, his lip curled into a snarl, “fuck you. ONE. picture.”

“You’re the best!” You mewl, peppering his face with tiny kisses. “The best boyfriend anyone could ask for-“

“Shut up and keep coloring before I change my fucking mind.”

[aemondloverr]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡

𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 • 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Upon your arrival, Cregan sees to it that you are comfortable in Winterfell and a deal is struck.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: A sassy Jace and a Reader in denial of her feelings. Tiny bit of angst at the end

𝐰𝐜: 5.5k

𝐀/𝐍: I told yall I would drop again soonnn (had 4.3k words and decided to write 1.2k more smh.) And Ya'll. When you sign up for the taglist, PLEASE. PUT YOU USERNAME!! 😭 Some of you guys are just putting yes or no. I won't be able to tag you because I won't know how you are!!

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐩: The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

As Silverwing flies through the night sky, you catch a glimpse of another dragon in the distance. You instantly recognize the familiar shape and color as none other than Vermax. He appears to be flying in the same direction as you and is rapidly catching up.

You signal Silverwing to land

Silverwing, sensing your command, begins to reduce her speed and descend towards the ground. She lands gracefully on the soft earth, her wings beating powerfully to ease the impact of touchdown. The moment you dismount, you see Jace jumping off Vermax and hurrying towards you.

“Jace what the fuck are you doing??”

Jace approaches you quickly, his expression serious as he stops in front of you. He takes a moment to catch his breath, running a hand through his messy hair

"What do you think I'm doing? You didn't seriously think I would let you go to Winterfell alone, did you?"

“Mother said-”

Jace cuts you off, his frustration clear in his voice "I know what mother said. But I'm not letting you go on this trip alone, especially not with...him there. I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."

You roll your eyes at his stubbornness and he rolls his own right back.

"Don't give me that look. You know I'm right. You need me there, whether you want to admit it or not."

“Why do you have to be so difficult. Ugh.”

Jace gives you a cocky grin, his usual playful demeanor resurfacing.

"Because someone needs to be the voice of reason and it clearly won't be you given your emotional state at the moment."

You scoff and get back onto Silverwings’ saddle.

He lets out a huff of laughter, shaking his head becausehe knows he's annoyed you. He hops back onto Vermax, the dragon flapping his wings impatiently, eager to take flight again.

"Ready to keep going, hotheaded?" he yells and you reply with a warning

“Mother will skin you when we get back; I hope you know that!”

He laughs, unbothered by your threat

"I'm sure I'll survive. Besides, it'll be worth it when I get to say I told you so."

Silverwing begins to beat her wings, preparing to take off once again. Jace clearly enjoys the opportunity to rile you up, as brothers always do.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

3 and a half days later

“DRAGONS!!” The guards bellow out a startled shout, prompting several other guards and castle folk to rush out into the courtyard to see what the commotion is.

As Silverwing and Vermax touch down on the cold, snowy landing outside Winterfell, you and Jace dismount, your breaths visible in the crisp, cold air. The castle looms above you, its massive walls and towers covered in a thick layer of snow. The sound of voices and activity can be heard from inside the castle, signaling the busy life of the northern capital.

The cold wind beats against you both, it’s chill uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

Approaching the wall, the townsfolk and guards murmur among themselves as you and Jace come into view, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe. You can hear them whispering as they catch glimpses of the mighty dragons resting in the clearing behind you. The guards at the main gate watch you as you approach, their hands gripping their hilts of their swords tightly.

“This is the eldest Princess and Prince of the realm, children of Queen Rhaenyra. We are to meet with Lord Stark” you call out.

The guards exchange glances with one another, clearly uncertain how to respond. One of them steps forward, his gaze flicking nervously between you and the dragons behind you.

"You're here to meet with Lord Stark, you say?"

“Indeed. He had been made aware of our coming.”

The guard nods slowly, still appearing rather nervous in the presence of the dragons. He clears his throat and calls out to another guard standing further back

"Open the gates! The Princess and Prince are here!”

As the gates creek open, down comes Cregan Stark, marching towards you through the crowd of townspeople flanked on either side by a few of his trusted retainers. A cloak of wolf fur is draped over his shoulders, and his expression is stoic as ever. He stops about a few feet away from you, his grey eyes taking in the sight of the dragons behind you in the far clearing.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart races. You thought you were ready to see him again but clearly, that was not the case.

Cregan's expression remains stoic as he gazes at you, his eyes searching your face intently. He takes in the sight of you standing there, a mixture of emotions flickering briefly in his steel grey eyes. For a moment, the two of you stand there, silently staring at one another, neither of you breaking the tense silence that has fallen over the courtyard.

You observe each other with looks of familiarity. You still remember quite clearly how he looked at 5 and 10 and it definitely wasn’t anything like now.

Before, he was the same height as you, short red-brown hair and soft features. He had the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It was almost like you could feel the warmth of his happiness.

Now, there is no warmth. His expressions show very little emotion and he’s at least a foot taller than you. His hair has grown out to his shoulders and it still has that pretty red-brown color to it.

He continues to scrutinize you, his eyes roaming over your figure. He does not speak, but his gaze betrays his thoughts.

It's clear that he too is caught off guard by the encounter, memories of your childhood together flooding his mind.

You incline your head in recognition and respect.

“Lord stark.”

"Princess,"

He nods in return, his expression guarded but polite.

He briefly glances at Jace, then back at you, clearly noting the presence of your companion.

You tap Jaces hand to get him to be respectful.

Jace, who has been watching the exchange with annoyance, follows your unspoken order. He steps forward and gives a brief, stiff bow to Lord Stark.

"Lord Stark," he greets in a cool tone, his expression betraying his reluctance to show proper respect.

What a great start to an alliance. Good one Jace.

Cregan raises an eyebrow at Jace's impolite behavior, but he remains impassive as he regards him. He turns his attention back to you, his gaze flicking over your figure once more before he speaks.

"I trust you had a safe journey?"

“Aye. We did.”

He takes a step back, gesturing towards the entrance to Winterfell.

"You must be weary from the journey. I will have my men take you to your chambers for you to rest. We can converse when you have freshened up and settled in."

“Thank you.”

Cregan nods once more, then turns and gives a brief command to a few of the retainers standing nearby. The retainers step forward and begin to usher you and Jace towards the castle. Cregan falls in behind them, still observing you intently, his expression inscrutable as ever.

You speak to Jace in high Valyrian

Jace glances at you as you address him, his brow furrowing slightly. He responds in the same language, his voice low so only you can hear. "He's still as cold and stoic as ever. This should be fun."

“It was rude of you to do what you did, ignoring him like that.”

Jace rolls his eyes, a hint of irritation in his voice

"It wasn't rude. It was the truth. He acts like a block of ice, even towards royalty."

“Jacaerys.” You demand sternly

Jace holds his hands up defensively, his expression contrite. "Alright, alright, I'll stop. But you can't deny that you were practically fawning over Lord Stark."

“I was not. It was rude of you not to greet him like that after sneaking all this way with me. It would be a shame to send you home when you’ve only just arrived, wouldn’t it.” You threaten.

"Fine, I get it I get it I'll be polite. But only for you. Not for him."

“That’s not how this works-”

Jace cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll behave myself. I promise. Can you just stop nagging me for ten minutes now, please?"

“Shall I send raven to mother right now?”

"No, no, no. That won't be necessary. I said I'd behave. I'll be the perfect image of etiquette, I swear it."

“Good then.”

Jace sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He gives you a weary look, accepting that he has no choice but to play nice.

"I'll be on my best behavior. No more rude quips or comments. I'll treat Lord Stark like he's the most charming, most handsome man in all of Westeros. Happy now?"

You just scoff in response.

Jace rolls his eyes, clearly not pleased by your response "Gods, you're impossible to please. I make the grand gesture to accompany you all this way and you're still annoyed with me. I can't win, can I?"

Cregan, who has been quietly listening to the exchange between you and Jace, raises an eyebrow at your bickering. A hint of curiosity flickers in his eyes as he hears the rapid exchange of words in High Valyrian. It's clear that he's wondering what you're discussing that has you so riled up.

Jace has nothing more to say, pouting as you’re lead to where you’ll both stay.

At last, you reach the Great Keep and up a spiral staircase to the guest wing. They escort you to two adjacent rooms, each furnished with comfortable beds, warm furs, and a fireplace to keep away the winter chill. Servants are already inside the rooms, laying out towels and filling a tub of hot water for you to bathe.

“This is much appreciated, especially after our long journey.” You thank Cregan but Jace just goes straight to his room, shutting the door behind him.

He waits a moment, as if considering what to say, before finally speaking in his deep, gruff voice.

"Is your brother always so...irritable?"

“I’m sure you remember.”

A slight smile tugs at the corners of Cregan's lips as he hears your comment. He nods slowly, his eyes still locked onto yours.

There’s that warm smile of his

"Aye, I do remember. Though he seems to be even more ornery than I recall."

“He’s quite the trouble. The older he gets, the more impolite and out of line.”

His eyes widen as he nods in agreement, his expression taking on a slightly amused cast.

"It seems so. But he is certainly loyal, I'll give him that much."

“Well it's clear he never liked you, that's for sure.”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at your statement, his gaze flickering with curiosity. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

"Oh? And why is that, pray tell?"

“Because you stole me away from him. I stopped playing with him everytime you visited King’s Landing.”

"Ah, so he's jealous, is he? I wondered if that was the cause of his animosity towards me."

“Speaking of Jace…I mean to talk with you quickly…”

You’d wanted to ask him if he could keep your brother in Winterfell but with the way Jace is behaving, he might just ruin it for himself.

The corners of Cregan's lips twitch into a smile at your words, his gaze still fixed on you. He nods, gesturing towards your chambers.

"Very well. Let us talk somewhere more private then, shall we?"

“No need.”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, his expression turning curious as he studies your face. He tilts his head slightly

"Oh? You wish to talk here? In the corridor? Are you not concerned about your brother and his listening in?"

“Well…I suppose you’re right.”

Cregan nods in agreement, a hint of a smirk on his face. He pushes himself off the wall and takes a step towards your chambers.

"Aye, I thought so. Come, then."

He gestures for you to lead the way into your room.

You push open the doors of your chambers. The room smells of your favorite flowers.

He remembered.

You smile silently but briefly to yourself at the flowers on the bedside as for him to not notice.

Cregan notices your brief smile anyways, but he does not comment on it. He walks over to the window, peering out into the snowy landscape outside. The moonlight in the darkening sky casts a silvery sheen upon the snow-covered ground, making everything look almost ethereal. He lets out a soft hum, his gaze still fixed on the outside before he speaks.

"It's a clear night tonight.”

You shiver, still cold although already inside. It was somehow colder in your chambers than the halls. Maybe it was because of the windows. You’d greatly underestimated the cold of Winterfell and now, you were suffering for it. “A-aye…”

Cregan notices the shiver that runs through you, his gaze lingering for a moment. He frowns slightly, concern evident in his eyes, even through his usual stoic demeanor.

"Are you cold? Here, come closer to the fire."

He gestures for you to come nearer to the fireplace and you step closer. He feeds the dying fire more wood in order to warm the room faster, moving to stand beside you, his figure casting a long shadow over yours as the firelight dances upon your features.

"Better?" he asks, voice soft and low.

You nod in response and he hums softly, eyes still fixed on you. He studies you for a moment, taking in your chattering teeth and trembling form.

"You're still shivering. Here, let me..."

Without warning, he reaches out and gently grabs hold of your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours.

“It would be a bother-“

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, hand tightening around yours. His voice is firm but gentle as he speaks.

"It's no bother at all. I won't have you freezing to death while you're under my roof."

He gently pulls you closer to him, guiding you to stand right in front of the fireplace. He keeps his hand wrapped around yours, his grip firm yet careful.

"Now, hold on.”

He takes a few moments to remove his cloak, which he drapes around your shoulders. The cloak is made of thick wool and lined with softer furs, making it warm and comfortable to wear. The garment is much too large for you, but it immediately envelops you, trapping the warmth of the fire between the layers of fabric. He stands silently next you, his hand still wrapped around yours, as if to ensure your body heat stays trapped within the cloak.

“I like this…This is nice.” The coat of course. Not his company. In any way. At all.

Cregan smiles slightly in response to your words, his grip on your hand tightening imperceptibly. He gazes down at you, studying your face as you huddle within the warmth of his cloak, a flicker of something warm passing through his grey eyes.

"Good. I'm glad.”

He rubs small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch gentle and soothing as he keeps you close to the fire.

You can’t help but feel a flutter in your heart at the kind gestures and he can’t help but get butterflies, seeing you in his large furs.

Cregan continues to watch you silently, his gaze lingering on your slightly flushed cheeks and the way his cloak envelopes your body. With each passing moment, a sense of protectiveness and possessiveness begins to rise within him, though he keeps it well-hidden behind his stoic expression. His thumb continues to rub gentle circles on your hand, the gesture becoming almost subconscious at this point.

You pull your hand away and clear your throat. This is inappropriate. You shouldn’t be allowing him to get so close like this. Yet here you are.

He frowns slightly, feeling the loss of your warmth as you withdraw. He glances down at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes, wondering if he may have overstepped some invisible boundary. His gaze flickers down to his cloak, wrapped tightly around your shoulders, an unconscious reminder of his desire to keep you close and warm.

“Are you feeling warmer now?”

“Yes…Thank you”

A hint of relief crosses over Cregan's face at your answer, and he nods silently. Despite the return of the usual distance between you, there's a noticeable hint of reluctance in his gaze, as if he wishes to pull you closer again. He takes a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets, his voice is quiet as he speaks.

"You're always welcome."

The silence between you hangs heavy in the air, charged with unspoken words and lingering tension. Cregan stands facing you, his gaze fixed on your face. The dance of the fire casts shadows across his features, emphasizing the hard set of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but hesitates, seeming to think better of whatever he was about to say. The silence hangs between you for a beat longer before he finally does.

"You said you wished to talk, didn't you?"

“I need a favor. Well not so much a favor but…”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at your words, curiosity etched on his face.

"Go on,” he prompts.

“My mother will soon be sending a raven.”

"A...raven? What for…?"

“She'll want you to send Jace back to dragonstone”

Cregan lets out a scoff, his gaze flicking around the room before settling on you again.

"She wants me to send him back to Dragonstone? Why?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be here. Mother forbade him from coming with me so he decided to be a half wit and sneak out to ‘protect’ me” You roll your eyes just thinking back to his rebellious flee.

He shakes his head at Jace’s stubbornness and crosses his arms.

"He really never does like to listen to anyone, does he?"

“She’ll surely skin him”

She really might.

"Aye, I can imagine she would be quite displeased to find out he defied her orders. He's really dug himself a deep hole this time."

“Well that’s why I need you to ignore the message…”

"Ignore the message? Are you serious? You want me to ignore your mother's command to send your brother home?"

“Just… don’t worry about it. And if you get in trouble. I’ll vouch for you”

Cregan looks deeply conflicted, his brow creasing as he processes your request. He crosses his arms, his eyes studying your face intently.

"The Queen herself? And you think your word can protect me if it gets out that I disobeyed her?"

“I am her eldest. Besides, It’s nothing you haven’t done already.” You cross your arms, hinting about when you were children.

He rolls his eyes at your remark, clearly understanding the reference.

"Aye, fair point. I suppose I have disobeyed a few royal orders back then. But this is different. We aren't children anymore."

You didn’t want to have to resort to this but you’re almost begging.

"I know this but can't you just do it for my sake? As much as I hate to admit it, I need my brother here." You take his hand once again.

Cregan flinches slightly at the sudden contact of your hand in his, his gaze immediately looking down to where your fingers are intertwined together.

There's a momentary flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, his stoic expression faltering for a brief moment. Your words, spoken with such earnestness and conviction, tug at his heartstrings, and he can't deny the plea in your eyes.

He sighs deeply, a mixture of reluctance and resignation crossing his features. However, as his gaze falls upon your desperate expression, his will crumbles, and he nods.

"Fine…I’ll do it for you."

“Thank you..good. I'll swipe the message before it even reaches your solar. And if she asks you, you won't be lying because you’d not have received it and you’d not have even laid your eyes upon it”.

"Aye, but I have one condition."

Oh gods. It can never be straightforward with him can it?

“And what'll that be?…”

"Your brother will have to be respectful and obey my commands. No more of his sharp tongue or disobedience. I’ll not have him questioning my authority in my own castle. I don’t want any more unnecessary headaches because of that boy."

Cregan takes a step closer to you, his figure towering slightly over you, his gaze fixed solely on your face. His voice is low and quiet, a hint of warning.

Despite your doubts for Jace’s good behavior, you agree

“Easy. Done.”

You mean easier said than done?

Herein lies the problem. How is Jace to do that? He’ll never give up his snarky remarks. Sure maybe temporarily, but not forever. He can’t go long without saying something out of pocket.

Cregan nods in approval, a flicker of satisfaction in his grey eyes.

"and.."

Of course there's more.

"...you give me something in return” He finishes, his voice firm but gentle at the same time. His gaze bores into yours, searching for a hint of protest in your eyes but not letting go of your hand just yet. He continues to study you with intense eyes.

“Which is…?”

"Your company. Everyday."

Fuck.

“What?”

This is the last thing you’d expect and the last thing you wanted to happen. Getting over him does not include spending MORE time with him.

Cregan's gaze is steady on you, his voice still holding a slight gruffness.

"I want your company. I want you by my side. I want you to accompany me to my meetings, to dine with me, to walk with me, to simply…be with me.”

You chuckle nervously in disbelief “Everyday? It is a jest, surely? You cannot expect to-”

Cregan cuts you off, his voice a quiet but firm interruption. His gaze remains steady and intent, his expression serious as he responds.

“Not a jest. I expect you to keep me company. Not all your time, I’m not unreasonable, but a fair share of it. That is my price. Take it or leave it.”

“…And if I refuse?”

An unreadable expression crosses over Cregan’s face at your question. His grip on your hand tightens almost instinctively, like he’s afraid you might pull away. A hint of vulnerability flashes in his eyes, hidden behind a stoic mask, as he responds.

“You won’t refuse…but if you do…then the deal is off and your brother has to leave.”

Using blackmail to spend more time with you is low, even for him.

You ponder for a minute, weighing the decisions and he watches closely as he waits patiently for your response.

“So… blackmail is how you get what you want”

He sighs, letting go of your hand as he takes a step back, creating some distance between you.

"Not blackmail. Incentive." he grumbles in irritation. He crosses his arms, his gaze hardening as he responds.

"I’m not a liar or an oath breaker. You want me to do you a favor? Then I’ll do it. But I’m allowed to have something in return, aren’t I?"

“Fine.”

“Perfect. Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, you will spend the day with me.”

“Now” you sigh and turn your back “I’d like to take a bath now so if it please you…” you give a shooing motion.

Cregan nods, a slight hint of amusement in his eyes as he gazes at your back. He watches for a moment longer before relenting.

“Very well, you may bathe. I have matters to attend to anyway.”

He really doesn’t. He just wanted your company.

He turns towards the door, his hand on the handle as he glances back at you over his shoulder.

“I assume I will see you at supper tonight?”

“No you will not.”

He pauses at your statement, his hand dropping from the door handle. He turns back towards you, his expression slightly surprised by your adamant response.

“No? And may I ask why not?”

“I wish to retire after my bath so you may send for my supper. I will not come down. It’s been long since I slept well.”

He considers your words for a moment, his eyes studying your face intently, his tone slightly reluctant.

"Very well, I suppose you need to rest. But I expect to see you at breakfast on the morrow. We have a few matters to discuss.”

“Aye.”

Cregan gives you a small nod of agreement, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he finally turns to exit your your chambers, muttering something under his breath.

“Bloody stubborn girl.”

The door closes softly behind him.

“I heard that!!”

"Intended it to be heard!" he calls back from the hall, his voice tinged with playful sarcasm.

The room is quiet for a few moments after, the only sound coming from the crackling fire in the fireplace. The stillness is interrupted only by a soft knock on the door, followed by the voices of the servants as they bring in soaps, oils, and towels for the bath.

Every interaction with Cregan just melts at your resolve. You can’t avoid him. He’s made sure of that.

Despite your best efforts, you find yourself struggling to maintain that familiar disdain for him. Somewhere along the line, your feelings towards him have grown more complicated and nuanced.

You continue about your routine, undressing and slowly sinking into the warm water of the bath. As you relax into the tub, you let your mind wander once again, and the memories of your past with Cregan flood your mind. The old feelings of friendship and affection for him bubble to the surface, but you quickly push them down as you remind yourself of what he did.

The maids carefully and meticulously wash your hair, gently massaging the soap into the strands and rinsing it clean. Their touch is soothing as they work, their hands gliding through your locks with practiced ease. The warm water of the bath gently laps against your skin, providing a relaxing contrast to the maids' gentle touch.

You let yourself sink deeper into the tub, the warm water enveloping your body and easing the tension in your muscles. The heat of the water soothes your tired limbs, and the comforting scent of the bath oils swirl around you as they float on the surface. The maids gently massage a soft cloth over your skin, helping you clean and relax even further.

They tend to your arms, legs, and rest of your body, scrubbing all of the dirt and grime away.

After you are thoroughly rinsed, they help you stand and step out of the tub, warm water dripping down your body. One of the maids wraps a drying cloth around your hair, while the other sets out a soft and lightweight silken robe for you to slip into.

“Thank you for your assistance girls.”

The maids nod graciously at your appreciation, their work complete.

"You're welcome, Princess. Is there anything else you need before we take our leave?"

“What be your names?”

"I'm Martha." One says, the tall, brunette maid.

"And I'm Sara." The second maid replies, a soft-spoken blonde with an equally soft face.

“Goodnight, Martha and Sara”

The maids curtsy together as they reply.

"Good night, Princess."

With that, they gather their materials and exit your chambers, leaving you alone in the quiet room once again.

Once you’re done drying yourself off, you put on your silken robe, exiting the bathing room.

As if on cue, there is a knock at the door, followed by Cregan’s voice on the other side.

"Are you decent?"

“Just a moment.”

You cross the room to the bed, your steps quiet on the soft carpet. As you go through the wardrobe, you select a soft and lightweight night shift made of fine silk. You slip it over your head, the fabric feeling cool against your skin and falls just above your knees.

“You may enter.”

Cregan pushes open the door and enters, his eyes scanning the room, almost instinctively searching for your presence. A hint of surprise flickers across his face as he spots you, dressed in a simple nightgown with the fire burning bright behind you.

“I see you come bearing gifts.”

Cregan quirks a smile at your words, holding up a tray of food as he responds.

"As promised. I wanted to make sure you had something to eat before you retire.”

He walks over and sets the tray down on the table near the window, the dishes and cutlery clinking faintly as he places them down.

You do quickly to dismiss him. He’s been around you long enough today.

“Right…Thank you. Goodnight then.”

Cregan pauses, confusion and disappointment crossing his features as you promptly dismiss him. He stands there for a moment, shifting on his feet, as he stares across the room at your form.

"That’s it? I bring you dinner and just like that I’m dismissed?"

Well that backfired.

“What do you want, a piece of my bread?”

“No. I don’t want your bloody bread. I was just….”

he trails off, his expression clouding slightly, as if he suddenly can’t find the words he’s looking for to articulate his thoughts.

He takes a moment, gazing at you, taking in your form by the light of the fire. A hint of vulnerability seeps into his expression, his words suddenly turning quiet and unexpected.

"I was just trying to... spend some more time with you."

“You said that starts tomorrow. Not today.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, his eyes fixed on your face, his expression mingling with a hint of irritation and stubbornness.

"Aye, the deal we made says tomorrow. But I don’t see why I can’t spend some time with you right now. Why are you so adamant to get rid of me?"

“I’m just tired. And I don’t need this right now”

An excuse.

"You don’t need what? My company? Or is it something about my presence you find so intolerable, Princess?”

You raise you voice at him. “Just stop okay. Stop. I said I was tired and you're acting like a petulant child. I just- I want to be alone.”

The stubborn look in his eyes falters, replaced by a flicker of hurt that he tries to hide behind a stoic mask. But it’s ther for a brief moment. Your words hit a nerve, and he falters for just a second, before his expression hardens once again.

"Petulant? Just trying to spend some time with you, and you’re ready to kick me out as if I’m some lowly servant."

“That was not my intention. But now is not the time to spend time with me-” you try and defuse the situation by apologizing but to no avail.

Cregan lets out a scoff and wounded pride with a reluctant understanding flashes in his eyes.

"Then when is the time? Tomorrow? When do you feel like dealing with me?"

“Yes. Tomorrow. Because that’s when you said.”

He grits his teeth, his jaw tensing as he struggles to hold back a biting reply. Clearly, he’s not too happy about your decision to push him away.

"Fine. Tomorrow it is then." he mutters under his breath, the reluctance in his tone clear. He storms out, shutting the door loudly.

You distanced yourself, like you wanted…but at what cost? You can’t help but feel bad at your blunt words. You feel like you hurt him.

Despite his tough demeanor, Cregan's heart is soft and sensitive, and he's far more emotional than he lets on. Your harsh words, even if unintentionally, have obviously affected him, leaving him confused. He wants to understand why you're pushing him away, why you're being so distant with him.

You don't want to fall back into old patterns, let alone complicate your current situation. It hurt you to hurt him the way you did but you have to be strong...and yet, deep down, something inside you yearns for the familiarity of his presence, the warmth of his smile, the feel of his touch…

*****

You lift the lid of the food he brought and your eyes land on a small piece of paper tucked among the food. It's a note, penned in a neat and familiar handwriting. The ink is dark, the words written with a strong and decisive hand.

As you read the words, you can almost hear Cregan's voice in your mind, the deep timbre of his tone echoing in your ears.

It reads:

"I hope the food is to your liking. Sleep well, princess..."

C.

A note so kind yet you were so cruel.

Tonight was not a night you slept soundly, but rather, a night you pondered your words.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍

Bro why does it feel like I’m writing a whole lotta nothing…😭 Cregan barely does anything in this one but pt.4 gets good. I’m still cooking. And next chapter is gonna be deliciousss.

PS. YES. Their childhood will be in the story, probably pt.3 or 4. Still deciding which one because I don’t want the chapter to be more than 6k. (You guys should read the comments for some previews on the next chapter and sign up for the taglistt 😘)

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @cregansfourthwife @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @littlebirdgot @kingdomzeldaquest @squidscottjeans

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 6)

It was getting colder, the days shorter, the nights longer... which meant, you were now stuck with John and Simon buying clothes.

You all ate relatively quickly before that, considering you barely munched in a small burger and fries before giving all the rest to Simon, and soon enough, you were all in a children's clothing store.

You insisted that you didn't really need many clothes, maybe just a jacket, since you didn't have one, and going out without a jacket in this temperature is pratically a death sentence for a human.

So, at first, you did agree to buying clothes, they did seem worried too, so you figured, why not?

But at this point, as you watched them get way more than you first imagined, you were starting to panick a bit.

"I-I really don't need that many, r-really...!"

"There's no way we are letting you out when it's getting close to snowing without proper winter clothing." John huffs slightly, his voice sounding rough this way. "I know how delicate humans are to the weather, you need gloves, thick socks, beanies, warm jackets, pantyhoses..." He lists casually, not even looking your direction as he goes through the toddler's section of the clothing store.

You could only feel yourself being gently bounced on Simon's arms as he tries to reason with you.

"We do have a few clothes from our kids' younger years. But it's not that many, and we don't have socks, or gloves, or beanies, this small anymore."

You frown a bit in nervousness, not sure about all this, but there's little you could do against the stubborness of a dragon.

"Okay, this should be enough." John smiles, taking the bag of clothing to the cash register.

You sigh a little, tiredly leaning against Simon. You got used to him carrying you around, considering he has been doing this for a few hours without tiring at all.

And you also got used to the stares people threw your way... and the coos and aww's too....

But at this point, you were tired. So freaking tired. You weren't one to usually go out, like, ever. So, here you were, drooping slightly against Simon, your breathing getting slower.

"I know, I know, we're going back after this." Simon murmured close to your ear, adjusting your position on his arms so you could lean more against his chest and shoulder, a heavy, giant hand rubbing against your small back.

"Mhm... why... why didn't... the others come too...?" You mumble softly, not managing to contain yout curiosity any longer as you watched John pay for the clothes a few feet away.

"Johnny and Kyle are making last minute adjustments to the house." Simon answers simply, even tho you clearly had a confused expression on your face now.

"Adjustments....?"

"Just some simple stuff. Do you remember how you had to use a car seat to get here due to your height? We got the car seat before, but we still had to do some repairs around the house to be a better fit to your size."

"T-That's... Ah... o-okay..." You nod quietly, not knowing what to say to that.

Tho, you were pretty curious to know what kind of adjustments they did around the house.

"Ready to go?" John asks as he comes back close to you.

"Yeah. The kid's tired." Simon nods easily, already starting to make his way back to the parking lot, John right behind him.

"Of course they are. Let's hurry home then."

After waking up, strapped to the car seat as you felt the car come to a stop, John gently unbuckled you and set your feet on the ground, pushing you softly so you could go into the direction of the entrance, where both Johnny and Kyle were already waiting for you.

"Wee lass, come 'ere!!" Johnny smiles excitedly, only to scoop you up from the ground as soon as you got close enough.

It seems he couldn't hold his instincts in any longer. But... that's okay, considering you were in Simon's arms just some time ago.

Johnny immediatly started to nuzzle into you, taking you inside the house as his tail wagged behind him easily.

"Do ya wanna play with me, pup?" He asks, soft, but excited at the same time.

"They're tired, Johnny." Simon says as goes inside, giving a kiss to Kyle as they pass by eachother, John coming right behind with the things they bought. "Put them to nap a lil'."

Johnny pouts a little, ears pressing down and tail stopping.

"I really wanted to play with the pup..." He almost whines, holding you closer to him.

He felt so damn warm...

"Tav, remember when we had the babies for the first time?" Kyle comments, a soft smile on his face. "Imagine it's like that once again. No playing yet."

"Aye, aye." He sighs, and you try to contain a blush at how they talked about you like you weren't even there. "Time to sleep, yeah, pup? Maybe a bit of cuddles?" The hand that wasn't holding you against him goes to your wrist as he gently pushed his hand under your sweater sleeve, frowning a bit as he felt that you were indeed a bit cold. "Yeah, cuddles, pup. Warm yah right up, yeah?"

He was murmuring softly like he was deep in his instincts, that damn babyish talk coming out once again as the werewolf walked easily all the way back to your room and went inside, closing the door behind him, not bothering to turn on the lights.

"Need warm clothes now, saw that John got you some, very good..." He mumbled like he wasn't even talking to you, affected by his protective instincts. "Glooves, and a wool beanie, wee pup... all bundled up, and warm... let's get warm, yeah? Let's lay down, here..."

And he took you straight to the middle of the room, where the nest carved into the ground was. He didn't even hesitate as he simply threw himself onto the soft blankets and pillows, laying against them confortably and immedaitly putting you against his warm side, tucked between his chest and arm, pulling a blanket to tuck you in gently.

You could barely process what was happening, but you let him, actually feeling... confortable. It was warm, he was warm, and the weird nest thing was definetly soft. And you were tired... so tired, you spend a long time out of the house...

It wasn't a surprise that you fell asleep quickly against him, swearing that you could hear some kind of weird noise and fell some kind of weird vibration by your side. Do werewolves purr?

Well, you could always search later. Right now, you were busy napping against the big and warm werewolf, who thrilled and cooed happily at you.

[novaursa]

A Flame All Her Own

- Summary: Caraxes always knows how to snatch all your attention for himself. Which leaves Daemon jealous of his own dragon. 

- Paring: sister!reader/Daemon Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: faithful

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The morning air is thick with the salt of the Narrow Sea as you stand by the cliff edge, Caraxes sprawled before you, his great, sinuous body stretched luxuriously along the rocks. His scales glisten, the deep crimson reflecting in the morning sun as his slitted eyes, always watchful, follow your every movement. The dragon’s head rests lazily beside you, large enough that one of his breaths could likely knock you off your feet, yet gentle as he huffs softly, nuzzling your hand as you scratch just beneath his horned jaw.

“You’re spoiling him,” comes Daemon’s voice from behind, laced with a tone that’s both disapproving and… sulking? You smirk without turning around, knowing full well what that look on his face must be: arms crossed, brow slightly furrowed, mouth drawn into that familiar pout that’s often mistaken for mere arrogance but, today, has a hint of jealousy.

“Am I?” you respond, your voice light with feigned innocence as you continue to scratch Caraxes. The dragon rumbles in pleasure, tilting his head like a hound angling for more affection. You can feel Daemon’s eyes drilling into your back, but you don’t let up, laughing softly as Caraxes leans closer, nearly knocking you sideways in his enthusiasm.

“Yes, you are,” Daemon steps closer, his dark cloak billowing slightly as he stands beside you, looking down at his dragon with mild disdain. “He’ll be insufferable now, demanding pets and scratches like some slobbering mutt.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” you tease, glancing at Daemon. “You’re as spoiled as Caraxes is.”

Daemon’s eyes narrow at the comparison, though a glimmer of amusement tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Spoiled, am I?”

Caraxes’s head shifts, his large, amber eyes drifting from you to his rider as if sensing Daemon’s displeasure. He rumbles again, a deep sound that vibrates the rock beneath your feet, and Daemon gives his dragon a flat look.

“Not you too, you great overgrown lizard,” Daemon mutters. “I am your rider, remember? Mine, not hers.”

Caraxes blinks slowly, looking almost unimpressed. You swear, for a brief moment, that the dragon’s gaze shifts back to you with what could only be called affection. It’s as if he’s saying, “Oh, but she’s my favorite.” You can’t help but laugh at Daemon’s expression.

“I think he’s simply decided that I give better scratches,” you say, grinning.

Daemon arches a brow, eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and feigned affront. “Is that so?” He steps closer, nudging you out of the way so he can place a hand on Caraxes’s scales, patting his dragon’s neck with exaggerated enthusiasm. “You like me, don’t you, boy?” he asks, scratching roughly—too roughly, if Caraxes’s sudden flick of his tail and indignant huff are anything to go by.

“See?” you laugh, folding your arms as you watch with a smirk. “Gentleness, Daemon. Perhaps Caraxes prefers a softer touch.”

Daemon looks at you with a pointed glare. “Are you suggesting I’m not gentle?”

“Oh, Daemon, of course not,” you reply, lips twitching as you fight a smile. “You’re a Targaryen knight in shining armor.”

“Knight, indeed,” Daemon snorts, but there’s a glimmer of mirth in his eyes as he takes your bait. He shifts closer, one arm snaking around your waist, pulling you to him with a quick, possessive motion that sends a thrill down your spine. “Tell me, then. Should I be jealous of my own dragon? Or are you so starved for attention that you’ll take affection where you can get it?”

His words are laced with mock offense, but his hand holds you firmly, his thumb brushing against your waist in a way that belies his teasing tone.

“Jealous?” You raise a brow, feigning surprise. “Of Caraxes?”

He leans closer, voice dropping to a murmur. “Perhaps I ought to start breathing fire to gain your favor, then.”

You tilt your head, amused by the thought. “Imagine how well that would go at court,” you muse. “The Rogue Prince, reduced to petty flames for his sister’s affection.”

Daemon chuckles, the sound warm and rumbling, yet his hand on your waist tightens. “I’d reduce more than just my pride to flames if it meant keeping your attention on me.”

Caraxes huffs suddenly, a low rumble that sounds suspiciously like laughter, if a dragon could laugh. He lowers his head to nose at your shoulder, nudging Daemon’s hand away in the process as if to say, “She’s mine, actually.” You burst out laughing, leaning into Caraxes’s scaled cheek, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin.

“Seems like he’s made his choice,” you say with a sly smile, watching Daemon’s face flicker between exasperation and humor.

“Oh, has he?” Daemon drawls, arching a brow as he watches you and Caraxes, clearly unimpressed. “Well, perhaps I should be jealous, then. I might have to fight him for your favor.”

You laugh, raising a hand to smooth over Daemon’s arm. “Poor Daemon,” you tease, your tone laced with affection. “Unseated by your own dragon.”

He rolls his eyes, though the warmth in his gaze softens his expression. “If Caraxes intends to keep you for himself, he should remember who his true rider is.”

Caraxes turns his head slightly, eyeing Daemon with a look that, impossibly, feels smug. You laugh again, patting the dragon’s neck in reassurance. “Don’t worry, Caraxes. There’s room enough for both of you.”

Daemon grunts, slipping an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer as he casts a sidelong glance at Caraxes. “You’re lucky I tolerate you, you red menace,” he mutters, though the fondness in his voice is unmistakable.

The dragon lets out a huff, almost as if he’s rolling his eyes, and settles his head back down, clearly satisfied with his small victory. And as you lean into Daemon’s side, his arm wrapped securely around you, you catch the slight smile on his lips. For all his talk, the Rogue Prince is more than happy to share your affections—even if it means indulging in a rivalry with his own dragon.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: The Best at-

G/N. All my faves: Goo, Gun, Sammy, Jakey, Vin, Ryuhei, DG. Something cute and fluffy for this terrible day. Masterlists

Goo - The best at spoiling you

It's no surprise that whatever his little cupcake wants, his little cupcake gets.

He loves spending money at the best of times anyway. Whether buying something as a status symbol or just as a treat, the fact that he gets to spoil you too is an extra bonus.

Yeah he's hoarding wealth like he's a goddamn dragon, but he knows he can't take it with him.

So one word from you, or even a longing look, then you will get whatever your heart desires.

It doesn't just stop at material goods. Clothing, bags, skincare, cars, even a goddamn house. But you want a holiday? Here's the most luxurious of everything, first class, private jet, a villa. He's taking care of it, don't worry.

Oh, there's also some food you like?

It's not that he has feeder tendencies. It's just that if you say you like a particular snack or drink, he'll bulk buy it for you until you're literally sick of it.

Goo can and will spoil you. It makes him happy that he can do this for you, yknow. Why not let him.

Gun - The best at looking after you

It feels almost a shame that Gun isn't a househusband, because this man can take care of you like no-one's business.

Actually no, that's not right. Anything at all to do with you is HIS business.

You didn't realise he could be so servile, that he would be so content to just provide for and give to you.

Even your most obnoxious requests he would take on the chin with an eye roll and a huff of annoyance at most before doing what you want.

And that's for things you've asked for.

It's the little gestures that has become a part of your routine which really shows how much he loves you. Preparing your toothbrush in the mornings and just before bed. A cup of coffee just how you like it. Making sure the car is warm for you. Cooking up extra food for you even when you say you don't want any.

It's what makes him the sweetest (even if he is a demon with everyone else).

Samuel - The best at cuddling

Yes, this man exudes sex. Have you even seen his chest trying to burst out of his clothes?

And yes, sometimes your thoughts just get away from you as you rake your eyes over him.

Then when he catches you checking him out and gives you a smirk that shows he knows exactly what you're thinking of, don't worry he'll be happy to give you a demonstration later-

(Lord please have mercy on your soul.)

But it's actually the aftercare, the sweet touches, that Samuel really excels at.

The way he holds you, like he can't believe you're around and he doesn't want to let go, is what really pulls on your heartstrings.

He holds you and it's like you can breathe again, and whatever stress from your day drifts away as you press your body against his.

He touches you casually and intentionally. Like he can't get enough and wants you around forever.

Jake - The best at making you blush

Jake can be absolutely dirty and filthy when he wants, casually resting his hand on your lower back and whispering obscene things he wants to do with you later.

Your face blooms as indecent and very vivid, and very very explicit, thoughts cross your mind.

But of course that would make you blush. It's no surprise. It's also not something that Jake does often.

What he does do often, and what makes you blush, is actually very innocent.

Those winks of his, directed just to you, accompanied with a cheeky grin is enough to make you smile back even during your gloomiest moments.

You feel yourself flush at that little bit of attention given to you.

During his busiest days, when Jake catches your eye, regardless of his company, you'll get at the very least a soft smile. An acknowledgement that you're his most precious thing. Something to show everyone just how much you mean to him.

Your cheeks burn and you want to giggle and kick your legs every time.

Vin - The best relationship aesthetics

This is the person you go to for the best aesthetics. Although best is subjective.

Vin, this surprisingly sappy fool, loves matching outfits. Matching accessories. Matching whatever as long as it screams to the world that you're his.

Not that he would outright admit that he likes those stupid couple's t-shirts either, but expect sulking when you tell him that it's cringe. And eventually you will give in and wear it, because honestly? It's a bit cringe and a lot cute.

But the thing that makes Vin's heart skip a beat the most is you in his clothes. His cap, his hoodies. Even wearing his sunglasses for fun. He calls you a dork but finds you adorable.

Though his absolute fave? You in his Cheonliang Jacket.

(Better still when you return it, and his clothes smell like you.)

Ryuhei - The best at making time for you

He has absolutely no respect for work, or really anything that could take up his time when he could be spending it with you instead

Pretty much the opposite of Jake Kim in this respect, Ryuhei only has one priority. You.

Unfortunately this means that you must be the sensible one between the two of you. Ryuhei occasionally missing work to lie in bed all day with you is one thing, but when he daydreams about doing it for the next month then you have to snap him out of it.

At least this also means he will also come running whenever you want him to. Any time of the night, he will travel across the world at your word. Don't test him because he will absolutely do it.

The only downside is that when you do say goodbye for whatever reason, he looks like a kicked puppy.

DG - The best at...

You've seen him going at that lollipop. Man knows how to work that tongue.

[gay-dorito-dust]

more benjicot and cannibal with reader please im begging 🙏

There was once upon a time where Benjicot was scared of your dragon Cannibal, after all it wasn’t every day to see one in the Riverlands, and so the day you dropped into his life unexpectedly upon the back of the behemoth did the young lord of house Blackwood knew this was going to change his life.

It did but he didn’t necessarily expect it going in the direction where he now had almost daily arguments with the elder dragon about hogging you all to himself. You were his betrothed! He would be allowed to be with you at some point of the day without your clingy dragon glaring at him!

Benjicot wasn’t going to give Cannibal respect if he wasn’t going to let him spend some time with you in Raventree, he was stubborn in that belief and unfortunately Cannibal was equally as stubborn in keeping his rider close by at all times due to his distrust of others. Meanwhile poor you during all of this were forced to be stuck in the middle of the feud between dragon and man; Needless to say you were confused on how your beloved dragon and your future husband became like children when in competition for your attention and affection.

You had enough to give out to the both of them but it seemed that both Cannibal and Benjicot wanted all of your love and affection for themselves and won’t settle for anything else, which meant you were suspected to see one try to sabotage the other at every given moment, and while it’s something that you’ll never admit to but seeing them make fools of the other never failed to make you catch a case of the giggles.

You fondly remembered the times where Benjicot was showing off his skills with the sword to you during training, always glancing over at you to make sure you were watching him and smiling when you were, only for Cannibal to huff and sweep his legs from under him by using his tail.

‘Benji!’ You called, trying to stifle your laughter as you ran to your beloveds aid, helping him stand as he looks over at Cannibal, who was looking in another direction to avoid responsibility of making him looks like a idiot in front of you. ‘Are you okay?’ You asked with a small smile as Benji pouts.

‘You’re laughing.’ He says almost defeatedly as he holds you against his chest. ‘Your dragon tripped me up and you’re laughing at your betrotheds pain. You wound me my beloved.’ He adds as you cooed at him softly and pressing kisses to his face in apology, unaware that Benjicot was staring down Cannibal cockily as the dragon only growled at him; The young lord had long since grown use to Cannibal’s threats as he knew that you wouldn’t be too pleased should Cannibal bring him harm, so the beast of old legend was forced to growl and huff from a safe distance.

‘Better?’ You asked as you pulled away, Benji quickly changed his face to a softer one as he rests his head against your own.

‘Better.’ He replied. Cannibal growled dangerously low as Ben only flipped the behemoth the middle finger behind your back before stealing a kiss from your lips as a reward, cheekily bitting your bottom lip because he could.

Not even the next day did Ben see you coddled into Cannibal’s side as the dragon looked at him as though to say what are you going to do little bird? He clenched his jaw as he knew that he was at a disadvantage whenever this happens because Cannibal wouldn’t let anyone, not even a raven get close enough without the threat of being consumed alive by the behemoth.

‘You win this one reptile.’ Benjicot said under his breath as he was forced to find something to occupy his mind in the meantime until Cannibal decided that you could run back into his arms, where he’d keep you hostage for twice as long as Cannibal. Benjicot didn’t care if he had to carry you with him if he had to in order to consider the day well spent, he’ll do it and he’ll do it ten times over just to rub it in Cannibals face.

Cannibal huffs in pride as he drops his head to nuzzle your head with his snout, making your laugh as you patted his warm, rough scales in response as you cuddled further into your dragons side as you felt the lull of sleep overcome you.

Benjicot had never been more jealous of a anything in his entire life then he did in that moment, he should be the one holding you until you fell asleep, but he couldn’t help but hold respect for the old beast for protecting you as long as he had because he wasn’t certain where his life would’ve lead him had you not come into his life. So he guesses the old lizard was good for something, giving him his future spouse.

So while he and Cannibal may compete for you, they knew that they’d drop everything just to keep you safe and loved because you deserved that much for bringing them peace and light in their respective lives. You were the most important person to both Cannibal and Benjicot, so if anything were to happen to you, may the old gods have mercy on their soul as they might catch an enraged Blackwood upon the back of an equally enraged Cannibal as they tore the realm apart to get you back.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. santa’s little helper.

about. dressing up as slutty santa warrants some unwanted attention, luckily, sukuna is there to play santa’s grumpy little helper. merry christmas.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, meet cute, reader gets harassed/cat-called, reader is wearing a dress, modern!sukuna, fem!reader. it’s still christmas somewhere - enjoy !! (1K).

you meet modern bf!sukuna at a train station on christmas eve.

all your friends have gone home with guys that they fancied from the club, all the ubers in the area are either booked out or have sky high prices just to get you thirty minutes away not to mention the fact that it’s ice cold and your stupid mean girls themed santa outfit keeps riding up.

if you huff hard enough a cloud of smoke appears in place of your breath — like that of a mighty dragon, accumulating in the night air. it entertains you for all but a moment and doesn’t waste enough time for your train to come faster.

it’s not due for another thirteen minutes.

in that time you watch gangs of girls, groups of guys and just about anybody come and go from the station. your platform isn’t packed but it’s not too empty to the point where you feel unsafe.

“hey pretty girl.” ugh. as if your night couldn’t get any worse, a dingy looking stranger appears from nowhere — breathing down your neck, nastily drinking you in as if you’re a free shot at a bar. like you’re easy.

waving your hand away, you focus your gaze on the platform across the track and pray that someone notices your predicament. “no thank you.”

“oh come on gorgeous, give a guy a chance!” they press, crossing all of your boundaries to be in your space. even as you try to walk away, you can still feel the ghost of their sleazy words against the bare and exposed parts of your skin.. “where are you going all dressed like that, with no one to admire you?”

on instinct, you pull down your skirts as if to hide yourself from greedy eyes — storming down the platform. “none of your business!”

“hey now, little miss santa! don’t you wanna know? i’ve got a sleigh you can ride!”

“not interested! i’m all good.”

“why? you got a boyfriend?”

“yeah, i do.” you lie smoothly.

“then where is he?” the stranger mocks and closes in on you — you look around pathetically, waiting for some good passer-by to come and help you.

a heavy hand land’s on the stranger’s shoulder — making them jump in shock. you watch as the hand squeezes down, almost tight enough to break bone. “right here,” says a gravelly, husky voice that instantly fills you with warmth and relief. stepping aside, your hero reveals himself — tall with rippling muscles and spiralling black tattoos, lazy blood red eyes and a snarl that reveals sharp fangs and canines. all topped off my tufts of soft pink hair, which don’t do anything to dim his threatening aura. “you got a problem?”

“n-no! sorry man, i didn’t—“

“fuck off, will ya?” your hero spits out venomously and the stranger nods — practically disappearing into thin air after that. your shoulders sag and tensions dissipate from your body. “you okay…miss?”

tentatively, you give the pink-haired man your name — you owe him that much after he’d more or less saved your skin. “all good, thanks to you…”

“sukuna.” he doesn’t look at you, instead pulling a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and lighting one with a flicker of a flame. it’s like he feels you watching him in dismay, and laughs as he takes a drag. it’s kind of sexy, you’ll admit — the way he throws his head back let’s you see the thick lines of black ink extending down his neck. “ticket office is closed and security is shit here. small station. no one’s watching me smoke.”

“right…thanks, sukuna.”

he finally turns to you, deep and blood red eyes drinking you in — almost scrutinising you. you squirm under his gaze, heat prickling at the back of your neck and providing some protection from the cold. “where were you off too?”

“christmas party with some friends.”

“where are they now?”

“sucking face somewhere, and no, they didn’t offer me an Uber before they left.”

sukuna taps the ash from his cigarette and it falls away in the icy breeze. “shit night.”

wringing your fingers, you shrug a little bit. “i guess it could have been worse. so thank you for helping out,” you hum appreciatively. “all i have to do now is wait for this stupid train.”

a beat of silence passes between you both, only broken by your chattering teeth and sukuna’s occasional sniff between puffs of smoke. you hate smokers, but you don’t ask him to stop. not after he’d helped you and is willing to be your human shield until your train comes. anyone else would have left by now.

“i can give you a ride home, if you want?”

you frown… was he, trying to make a move on you?

“if you have a car why are you at a train station.”

sukuna smirks slowly, dropping his cig to the floor and crushing it under his sneaker. you don’t remind him that there’s a law against smoking on the platform. “i’m waiting for my little brother to get home from a trip with his friends. we don’t live too far from here and i offered to pick him up from the station.” he shrugs.

you blink up at him with wide eyes. you’d never imagine a man that looks and carries himself like he does to care so deeply for someone else. you suppose you’re judging a book by his cover.

you’re dressed like slutty santa, so you honestly have no right to do so.

“what’s your brother’s name?”

“yuuji. it’s just us, no parents. that’s why i’m picking him up.” sukuna turns to you, running a hand through his messy pink undercut. “look, i promise i’m not some creep. y’just look cold and i’m not about to let some girl get fucked over by weirdos at this time of night. i won’t touch you, but you can sit in the back with yuuji if it makes you feel better. people usually prefer his stupid face over mine anyways.” he mumbles that last part to himself, but is pleasantly surprised by the cute flutter of laughter that escapes you. “what’s s’funny?”

with a hand resting on your bare stomach, you try to contain yourself. “is it the tattoos or the fact that you have resting bitch face?”

“both.” sukuna sniggers in response, shoving his cold hands deep into his pockets. “so, you takin’ up the offer or what?”

“yeah, thank you…sukuna,” you smile, subtly sliding up beside him for warmth on the chilly platform. “i’d like to meet yuuji for myself, see which brother i prefer.”

“oh fuck you.”

“maybe some other time.”

and even though he’s sure that you’re joking, sukuna detects a glint of honestly in your sparkling eyes as the train finally approaches — it’s yellowing light from inside the carriage only illuminating that spark. you turn your head, trying to spot yuuji while he ponders your words.

sukuna is definitely going to ask for your number after he drops you home. he’ll have to thank that brat of a baby brother yuuji for the opportunity next — without him begging for sukuna to come get him, this would have never happened.

you would have never met.

it’d be a great christmas story to tell the grandkids too. so he’d really have to thank yuuji, even though sukuna would never hear the end of it.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[targaryenimagines]

Twin Flames

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 8,219

Summary: With your due date drawing nearer, you begin to wonder what sort of life you’re going to be bringing into the world; dealing with your constantly fluctuating emotions is easier than facing the thoughts that grace your mind during the midnight hours. You should have known it’d only be a matter of time before your dragon became aware.

Warning(s): G!P Daenerys, grief, self worth issues, allusions to sex, and descriptions of labor/childbirth (non-graphic).

Notes: This shifted around from what I had initially planned, but I can’t say that I’m upset with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you all! Thank you to @justyourwritter69 for the wonderful inspiration — it may not be exactly what you had been thinking of, but I hope you like it all the same!

Series Masterlist

Warm palms run up the sides of your heaving body — still coiled tightly from the last shockwaves of ecstasy passing through — pulling you ever closer, even as a light laugh is hidden in the crook of your neck, the large grin stretched across your wife’s lips being more than apparent when she nuzzles the sweaty expanse of skin.

“I have to admit,” Daenerys pants, pressing one last lingering kiss to the underside of your jaw, before pulling back to peer down at you: silvery-gold hair acting as a curtain, cutting off the rest of the world entirely. “You might be starting to wear me out, dearest one.”

You arch a brow, legs opening to allow for Daenerys to comfortably settle once more between them; the heat radiating from her back, when you stroke a gentle finger down the length of her spine, offering a sense of comfort that no quilt ever could. “I wasn’t aware that was a possibility,” you tease, a lightness to your tone that caused Daenerys’ own smile to grow that much more. “In fact, I believe it was you who kept me up all night in Meereen. Because, and I quote, you wanted to watch the sun set and rise while being inside of me.” A huff of laughter falls from your lips. “Where has that woman gone to?”

Violet eyes roll skyward, but the open fondness within her gaze, and the bone-deep adoration etched across her face, never wavers in the slightest. “She’s still here, ñuha perzys. Very much so.” As if to prove her point, Daenerys ruts softly against you; letting you feel the extent of the influence you had upon her body. “But I can’t do all of the things I wish to do to you. Not when you’re carrying such precious cargo.”

A brilliant grin stretches across your face at the reminder — even as one of Daenerys’ palms slides from its place on your hip to the growing swell of your abdomen.

Precious cargo, you muse, taking in the sight of your Khaleesi’s peaceful expression. Your twins.

It had come as quite a shock to you when you discovered that you could potentially be having twins from the Palace Healer; a wave of complex emotions crashing over you as Daenerys had puffed up at the thought. It’s a trait you couldn’t help but admire in your wife. You had only ever seen her truly shaken a few times in your long relationship, even when she was the young would-be conqueror trying to find her way in the world, she rarely ever allowed herself to fall.

So, while you were swept into the tide of varying emotions, Daenerys stood as a sturdy rock beside you, preening with pride and jubilation at the fact that she’d soon have two more children to love, to adore, to protect.

In a manner she wasn’t able to before. A thought that had caused a spike of pain to lance through your heart, squeezing at your lungs to stifle the air that your two children would never be able to breathe again; Viserion and Rhaegal were never far from your mind. The golden gleam of the sun hitting the Narrow Sea reminded you of the warmth within Viserion’s aureate gaze, the pristine white of your wedding dress reminiscent of his beautiful scales. Whereas the changing seasons, from the cold winter months to the tentative grasp of spring, brought with it the memory of Rhaegal’s emerald-hued wings stretched across you in a protective embrace, the rumbling of thunder on the horizon, as a summer storm rolled in, bringing back the resounding echoes of his fiery roar to the forefront of your memory.

You knew, deep within your heart, that as long as their memory lived on within you, within Daenerys, and the people that they had graced with their presence, they’d never be truly gone.

Even though you wanted nothing more than for them to be here: to see three shadows flying over King’s Landing, to hear their roars echo along with Drogon’s, to feel the warmth of their bond within your very soul.

Their absence, as your pregnancy delved into the final months, became more apparent with each passing moment. You wished, more than anything, that you could share the kindling of new life with your darling Prūmia and Bāne; knowing that Drogon, your Mīsio, would find comfort from them as well. Instead, he now carried the burden of being an elder brother completely alone.

What was once three, is now only one…

The dragon is supposed to have three heads, but what do you do when two have been ripped away?

If you couldn’t protect Viserion and Rhaegal, mystical beasts from the oldest tales of Westeros, descendants of the mighty creatures of Old Valyria, then how would you ever be able to do so for your twins?

How could you be a proper mother when you’ve already failed so greatly?

“Where have you gone in that beautiful head of yours?” The gentle question pulls you from your torrential thoughts, unfocused eyes snapping to look into a calming violet gaze. At the sight a small smile quirks Daenerys’ lips, but you can detect the worry glimmering just beneath the surface. “There you are.”

You muster up a small smile, knowing that it was lackluster by the way Daenerys' frown seems to grow. "Here I am," you joke. "I was just lost in my thoughts, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worried."

"I will always worry about you," Daenerys replies. "As long as my enemies walk this world, and something can cause harm to you, then I will continue to be worried. That's what you do for the people you love."

"Really?" Silken skin meets your fingertips as you gently trace a line from high cheekbones, down to a sharp jawline, to full lips, and back again. "I wasn't aware I ranked so highly on your list of priorities, Khaleesi."

Violet eyes narrow at the blatant teasing. "I don't have a list of priorities." You almost laugh at the petulant pout that overtakes your wife's face. "It's true, beloved."

"I don't think that's true, Daenerys." You begin to count on your fingers. "You have the Seven Kingdoms. You have your armies. You have the whole mess with the Stark's. You have--"

Soft lips do a great job at shutting you up, an expert tongue acting in a great supporting role to make you boneless beneath the commanding form of your wife, as nimble fingers curl through the strands of your still sex-mussed hair. "Nothing," she whispers hotly against your mouth, warm breath still mingling with your own. "Will ever be more important than you. The Iron Throne means nothing to me if I don't have you by my side while I rule. My armies mean nothing if I do not have you to defend. This right here?" Daenerys rubs her nose against your own, smoothing a hand down the swell of your belly. "Our family that you've blessed me with, our son that's been ravenously waiting for his little siblings, is all that I could ever want. Nothing will ever be more of a priority to me than my family."

You allow your Khaleesi to hold you close for a moment, at peace within her strong embrace, but soon the need to rile her up once more overtakes you. "All of those things you just mentioned are priorities to you?" Daenerys hums in agreement, having shifted over onto her back to allow you a better position to rest upon her chest, slender fingers now gently carding through your hair to untangle some of the strands. "Wouldn't you call that a list, Khaleesi?"

Daenerys' answering chuckle rumbles through her beneath your ear, her fingers never halting in their soothing motion, as she pulls you impossibly closer to her lithe form. "No, I wouldn't call it a list. A list makes it sound militaristic, cold, unfeeling, and that's the exact opposite of how I feel." She peers down at you through dark lashes, full lips quirked in adoration. "I call it the very reason for my next breath, the reason that my heart will continue beating, and the sole purpose that I'll never lose my fire to continue fighting for a better future."

Silence falls then — both being soothed by the company of the other; you by the steady beat of Dany's heart beneath your ear and Daenerys by the heat of your body curled against her own. You could even feel yourself beginning to fall asleep, something you're hoping will last till morning, before a need fills you once more. This time, instead of being one to tease your dragon, it's one to reaffirm that her adoration, her love, was more than reciprocated.

"You're everything to me, Dany," you sigh, nuzzling into warm skin. "I just want you to know how much you mean to me."

"And you, my dearest flame, are the big house with the red door and the lemon tree." Her arms tighten around you, her last words whispered against the crown of your head as you drift off into sleep. "I'm no longer lost when I look back. You helped me accept my past, embrace my present, and look forward to my future."

It’s only hours later, when your wife is nestled closely to you, a lithe arm wrapped around your abdomen in a protective embrace, that you finally give up on your battle to find sleep. You had hoped, as you had the many nights prior, that Daenerys would tire you out to the point that you could fall into dreamless sleep from sheer exhaustion; something that typically worked.

But no one, not even your dragon, could maintain that level of vigor at night coupled with being Queen of Westeros during the day; although she made a valiant effort, certainly better than anyone else could hope to accomplish.

Refraining from making too much noise, even if it was to just sigh, you slowly edge your way from underneath your dragon's arm — something that's a lot easier in theory, even if you had been doing it more and more recently as sleep continued to elude you — almost panicking when Daenerys tightened her hold, grumbling something against the nape of your neck, before she slackened once more.

Slipping from the bed, after ensuring that Daenerys had truly fallen back asleep, you carefully maneuver around the room, slipping on a discarded tunic that you vaguely recall Daenerys wearing upon entering your shared chambers after dinner — having quickly shed her clothing to take a much-needed bath after the arduous day.

Following your usual route, you find yourself standing on the overhanging balcony that let you see King's Landing in its entirety as well as the harbor twinkling softly in the night. It's on nights like this, when the moon is bright and the stars are twinkling, that you have the most trouble falling asleep. On stormy, or simply overcast, nights you didn't ache deep within your bones, but when the world unveiled itself in its natural state of beauty?

It's like having shards of glass travel down your throat every time you took a breath. Memories of nights underneath a different starry sky, in arid deserts and ancient cities, wherein Viserion and Rhaegal danced across the sky like they were trying to join the very stars themselves — always testing to see who could fly higher.

Looking up now, at the stars shining so brilliantly, you can't help but wonder if they were up there now? If they had finally made it in their pursuit to see who could make it to the top. You wonder if Viserion had saved a special spot for Rhaegal... You wonder if he was currently saving spots for you all...

Tears blur your vision, distorting the sky into a hazy blob of black and silver, and you hope, that wherever they may be now, that they were happy. That they were safe and loved in a way they always deserved to be treated.

Could they see you now?

Could they hear the way your heart cried out for them?

Did they know how much you missed them?

Did they know how much you love them still? How much you will always love them?

Did they know how much darker the world had become since their light was taken away?

"What are you doing out here, ñuha perzys?"

No, your mind cries out. Why tonight, of all nights, did she have to wake up?

"Beloved?"

You hesitated in turning to look at her, knowing that the moment you did you'd be caught, but the longer you waited, the longer you stalled, the more Daenerys would become agitated, her protective instincts flaring into life. There's no way for you to get out of this... Not without the conversation you've been desperately trying to avoid.

So, with a soft sigh, you turn to face the love of your life; being met with the adorably disgruntled form of Daenerys Targaryen: clad in only a rumpled robe that had been thrown across a vanity due to her haste to have you hours before.

"Dany."

Daenerys rarely had to ask you what was plaguing your mind when it became like this — her ability to read you like a book coming in handy — and, for a brief moment, you're glad that you won't have to explain it to her. Explain to her how much of a failure you felt like you were. How your fears of becoming a mother were amplified because you had failed so spectacularly before.

Violet eyes observe you for another moment, darkening with an untold emotion, before something seems to shift inside of her.

"Do you blame me?" The question is uttered softly, on a hesitant breath, that is the complete opposite of your veracious wife. "Do you?"

You shake your head. "Blame you for what, Dany?"

Please don't know, please don't know, please--

"Viserion and Rhaegal."

The mention of their names, coupled with the latent thoughts still swirling within the dark recesses of your mind, causes you to flinch, arms instinctively tightening around yourself in a protective hold. An action that Daenerys must have taken as a positive answer to her question; if the almost injured look that's now openly expressed across her beautiful face is anything to go by.

"We've had this discussion before, Daenerys," you murmur, not wishing to rehash harsh words and reopen still barely healed wounds. "I don't blame you for Viserion. Not anymore."

Daenerys winces at the reminder of what had occurred in Dragonstone all those moons ago. "But you did." It's not a question. There's no need for pleasant lies when in the face of your soulmate. "Who's to say that you don't again? I wouldn't blame you if you did. It was my fault to listen to my advisors instead of my instincts. It was my fault to agree to send Jon Snow beyond the Wall with Jorah. It was my decision to go after them completely alone. It was my own stupidity that led me to turn my back on everything that I learned, everything that I had become in order to get to where I am now." She steps closer to you, unshed tears causing violet eyes to shimmer like untouched amethysts in the argent light of the moon. "It was all because of me that Viserion was struck down in an icy hellscape. Where he was forced to become enslaved to that thing. It was because of me that our son, our youngest child, had his fire drowned by ice."

Your eyes shutter shut at the memories her words invoke. Flashes of icy blue eyes where there should have been gentle gold viciously cycle within your head as you try to forget the brokenly shattered form of your son that you had found after the Battle of Winterfell.

"Not to mention Rhaegal," Daenerys continues, angry spite, all of it directed at herself, hardening her tone. "If I had paid more attention, if I had kept him closer to me, if I had been more cognizant that Euron would have been lurking in the waters below, then he would still be with us. You wouldn't have had to watch as he fell from the sky, you wouldn't have been bathed red by specks of his blood, you wouldn't have had to use milk of the poppy or dreamwine in order to fall asleep because you had such bad nightmares. You wouldn't have suffered if it wasn't for me. Our children would still be alive if it wasn't for me."

Even if some of what she said held merit — others being beliefs you had held onto just to inflict pain onto her; not unlike the pain you had felt when dealing with the unending grief — you refused to let her drown within her pain, refuse to let Daenerys' light get snuffed out. Not when she had been your steady rock for so long, your guiding light to bring you home, the only reason you had been able to pull yourself from the dark abyss their deaths had caused.

"No," you rebuke, tone firm. "I don't blame you, Daenerys. The Night King killed Viserion. The Night King is the reason our beautiful boy was trapped in an unending purgatory instead of the peaceful death he deserved. Rhaegal—" Pausing, lips pressed into a thin line, you take a shuddering breath before pressing on. "We didn't see Euron's fleet either. We were all aware of the potential risks he posed, but none of us took the proper precautions. Rhaegal, what happened to him, and what occurred afterwards, wasn't solely on you, Dany. You were foolish, I won't pretend that you weren't, but you were trying to make too many people happy, trying so hard to be the ruler that they all wanted you to be, instead of being the queen you were always meant to be. You got lost, Dany, and while the price we paid was high, and I don't think the pain will ever fully disappear, I'm just happy you were able to find yourself in some manner in the end." You step closer to your darling dragon, pressing a reverent hand to a flushed cheek. "So, no, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, I don't blame you for the deaths of our children."

Daenerys simply stares at you for a moment, her gaze almost inscrutable, but you can see the light beginning to return, even as her lips downturn slightly. "Then why do you blame yourself?"

No answer is forthcoming even as a thousand more spring to mind.

How could I not be? I didn't speak up; I saw what was happening and didn't do anything. I wasn't the partner you deserved, Daenerys, not like the one you have been to me and, because of that, because I couldn't find it within myself to just fucking speak up, our sons were killed...

How could I not be responsible when I still remember the sounds of Viserion's distorted roar and Rhaegal's scream of agony?

How could I not be when I'm still haunted by their faces every damn day?

You know that you couldn't say any of those things — Daenerys would probably blow a fuse — but the look within your wife's gaze let you know that she wasn't going to let you off the hook quite yet.

"I don't know," you admit, shoulders slumping as you turn from her inquisitive stare. "I don't know. Are you happy?"

The warm presence of your wife settles before you, standing closer than she had since the entire discussion had begun. "Of course, I'm not happy. You're in pain." Slender fingers gently grasping your face to turn your head to look at her. "It's something I will never enjoy seeing, but I want you understand me when I say this." Daenerys' eyes sharpen, violet pools burning with an inner fire that bespoke of her bloodline. "You need to stop wondering what might have been. It's something I couldn't stop doing, something that I still struggle with on occasion, but it will only make it so that you miss what's happening now. Viserion and Rhaegal are gone, which is something that will never leave us, but to only carry the darkness around with us would be a disservice to the light they had brought into our lives. They're gone, but they'll never be forgotten, because we won't let that happen. So, please, don't blame yourself any longer for something you can't change. Not if you won't let me share that blame alongside you." She steps closer, always drawn like a moth to a flame when you're near. "I promised to protect you from everything when I took you as my wife, to love and hold you through any storm that may come, to weather any battle that'll mean you'll be okay. Even if that means contending with the beasts that lurk within your beautiful mind. I know it's hard, my beloved, but I can't stand not knowing when you're in pain. Not if there's something I can do about. So, please, don't shut me out even if you think you're protecting me by doing so."

You nod, heart twisting at her soulful plea. "I'll try."

Even if you don't know how you'll accomplish it...

"That's all I'll ever ask for."

There's a moment of silence — wherein only the world dares intertwine within the moment you were now sharing with your dragon — before Dany gently smiles at you, love and adoration etching themselves across her face in an open mural of her devotion towards you.

“Come back to bed.” Daenerys reaches out for you, her hands slightly chilled by the night air when your own slots perfectly in place. “You know how I hate the emptiness when you're not there.”

Fighting the urge to smile, you follow your wife back from the balcony into the spacious bedchamber you’ve made into your haven, and you're not surprised in the slightest when Daenerys flops down onto her back, arms wide open in a silent invitation for you to take your rightful place between them.

This time, when you fell into your dragon's embrace, the warmth of your bed surrounding you, though never standing a chance against the heat of your wife, you knew, in that moment, that you'd finally be able to sleep.

Even if it took a while for your mind to finally catch up with what your body needed.

You’re not sure when you had fallen asleep, but suddenly awakening, standing on a sunlit coast that was all too familiar, with the sound of sea birds and crashing waves surrounding you, gave you the impression that you had at some point.

Either that or you were finally going insane.

Turning in place, you take in the sights, the smells, and the sounds of a world that you hadn’t believed you’d ever return to; even if Essos was simply across the Narrow Sea, you don’t think you’d ever be able to see it the same way again. Not after everything that’s happened.

Still, even now, you couldn’t deny that the sight of the Great Pyramid, far off into the distance, didn’t elicit some bone-deep reaction within you. Memories of easier times flickering through your mind — even as the faces of the ones you lost threaten to overwhelm you — allowing for a small smile to stretch across your lips.

A smile that turns into a full blown grin the moment you crane your neck to look at the azure sky and see two familiar shapes circling overhead; Viserion and Rhaegal. Their wings beat rhythmically, creating a soft, soothing sound that echoes across the peaceful landscape as they begin to descend. The sight of them, at the ease in which they danced upon the wind, and around the other, brings a tug of longing to your heart; wishing, more than anything, that this wasn’t a dream. That you’d be able to see it when you awakened.

Landing with a soft thump, a small spray of golden sand showering over your feet, their massive forms tower over you, but you weren’t intimidated for a moment; not when they radiated an aura of warmth and familiarity.

Viserion approaches first, cream colored scales shimmering brilliantly in the sunlight, causing the golden accents to almost appear like flames, and nudges you gently with his snout, a gesture of recognition and affection. Pressing a hand to his cheek, almost crying at the feeling of his sun-soaked pebbled scales, you look into his gleaming golden eyes, a feeling of absolution settling over you as you realize that the icy blue wouldn’t be the last color you witnessed any longer.

Rhaegal, not to be outdone by his younger brother, soon approaches; emerald scales gleam like precious gems as the bronze hues brings with it the thought of your countless hours laying in a field watching him dip and dive in the wind. Tears, that had been gathering from the moment you saw your sons in the air, begin to fall down your cheeks, a sob being stifled in your throat, as you press your hands into both of their cheeks; wanting to be reassured that they were actually there. That they wouldn’t just vanish and leave you bereft once more.

“I miss you both so much,” you whisper, throat still tight from the efforts of keeping your sobs at bay. Their soft croons in response, large heads nuzzling closer to the warmth you provided, nearly being your undoing. “I’m sorry that I failed you. That I wasn’t able to protect you.”

They both let loose short rumbles in response; clearly not agreeing with your evaluation of your past deeds. Rhaegal nudges you with his head, forcing you to take a step back, as he and Viserion seem to have a silent conversation with the other. A sight that brings a small furrow to your brow, but you're not able to say, or do, anything before the world seems to tilt on its axis and everything blurs together. Your stomach lurching at the suddenness of solid ground, and a miasma of colors, as everything seems to settle once more.

Well... almost settled, you think, casting a quick glance to the world around you; noting, with a sinking feeling in your gut, that your sons were nowhere to be found, but that wasn't the only thing that had captured your attention.

Gone were the shrieking of the gulls, the warmth of the sand beneath your feet, the almost sweet scent upon the wind; now you stood at the precipice of a cliff you hadn’t been to since Daenerys had claimed King’s Landing — a place that’d forever haunt you.

Dragonstone…

The air is unusually still, carrying an otherworldly scent of sea salt and dragon fire. The sky above is a swirling canvas of deep purples and oranges, with stars twinkling faintly through the wisps of clouds; an almost dizzying shift from the golden sunlight, crystalline skies, and a warm ocean breeze.

Beneath your feet, waves crash against the rocks with an unparalleled intensity, sending sprays of foam into the air. You didn’t have to look behind you to know that the ancient castle was looming; towers reaching towards the sky as if to grasp what the owners had lost in the years since the dragons vanished.

Twin thumps, and rush of air that ruffles your hair, is all the warning you receive that your sons had arrived.

“Why are we here?”

You didn’t have the heart, or the strength of will, to ask all of the other questions plaguing your mind: Is this my punishment for failing you both? To be forever trapped in the place that I had last seen you? Happy. Whole. Together.

Viserion’s warm head bumps against your side, a small croon bubbling from deep within his throat; it was a sound he always used to make when he wished to go flying, or wanted you to scratch just a bit to the left, or simply because he wished for you attention, for your love.

You laugh wetly, fighting a losing battle in keeping your tears at bay. “I know you dragons are beasts that'll never be fully understood, but I’d like a straight answer at least once.”

None was forthcoming — not from Viserion, whose gentle gaze never wavered from where he had curled his neck around your body, nor from Rhaegal, who had decided to rest on the opposite side, bracketing you within their warmth, keeping you from the cold, harsh wind of the surf — but, in that moment, you realized all you needed to know.

It's a realization that barely registered before Viserion confirms it for you, pressing a warm snout against the clothed area of your abdomen — a place that had once been flat, now round with the promise of new life — and you feel your twins instantly react to his presence. A fact that causes Viserion to snort happily and for Rhaegal to finally raise his head to nuzzle closer; a position that you had been in numerous times before, wedged between your youngest boys while Drogon was off with Daenerys. The bittersweet twang that this moment causes makes you want to never leave, to never get up from the warmth that they had always provided.

Knowing, that when you woke up, you'd be without them once more.

Memories of the last time you had been on this cliff, watching the sun cast a miasma of colors across the Westerosi sky, as Dothraki and Unsullied soldiers worked on the sands far below, assault you in a vicious attack; echoes of Viserion's playful chortling as Rhaegal snarled in response to his brother's continued insistence to steal some of his food. A squabble the two had grown accustomed to having — one you had grown used to overseeing — that never escalated past the first few nips; wherein you'd finally step in and give Viserion the rest of whatever you had on hand.

You remember, with sharp clarity, the way the sun had cast an almost angelic aura within Viserion's kind eyes and the way in which it brought out the darker green hues within Rhaegal's hide.

You remember the serenity you had felt watching Drogon dip and weave across the bay, leaning up against Viserion's warm side with Rhaegal's large head nestled close to your lap.

You remember the sounds of raised voices, that you had previously ignored when they graced your ears through the whistling wind, growing closer; Tyrion's exasperation and Daenerys' calm nonchalance finally keying you into the severity of what was occurring.

You remember your own objections being raised when Daenerys had told you her plan — worry and fear nearly choking you. For her. For your children. For what it could mean for her men if something were to happen. For the future that you weren't ready to live without her in.

You remember the gentle kiss and promise that she had bestowed on you before mounting Drogon: "I will be back soon. You'll be cuddled up with our children and me before you know it."

You remember the warmth of Viserion's cheek as you caressed his pebbled scales, the way your hair blew back when Rhaegal huffed as you leant to kiss his nose, and the amused look within Drogon's crimson gaze when you scratched under his chin.

You remember the heavy feeling in your chest nearly crushing you as you watched all three, along with your Khaleesi, disappear into the horizon.

And, above it all, you remember the look within violet eyes upon Daenerys' return, her pleading words when you looked out into the bay expecting to see three forms but instead saw only two, the distance that had grown between you as you dealt with your grief, the pain that kept you up at night, the regret that hung over you for not speaking up, and that same weight bearing down onto you.

You can't even bear to look out towards the open water now where Rhaegal had fallen, where his emerald scales had been stained forever crimson, and the sounds of his cries still haunted your dreams; your darling boy, your Bāne, always so hotheaded, disappearing beneath frothing water... Simply gone before you could even blink.

Both gone before you could...

The sudden realization of why you're here, why Viserion and Rhaegal were nestled so close to you, finally clicked into place and, with that realization, your tears finally cascaded down your cheeks.

"To say goodbye." You look down into their eyes, one set gold and the other bronze, as tears continue to fall from your own. "That's why I'm here. You're letting me say goodbye."

Twin rumbles meet your declaration, large heads pushing closer as they gently nuzzle your growing stomach. A sight that you would do anything to see in real life — knowing, with everything you had, that they would have made the best big brothers. Smoothing a hand down Rhaegal's jaw, and then shifting to Viserion, you lean closer and allow yourself to be fully wrapped in their embrace.

"I wish that I could go back and hold you both a bit longer. Give you a bit more of the fish I had stolen from the kitchen. Stayed a little bit longer snuggled into your side as I read. I wish that I could get all those little moments back and hold them tightly, so I'd never lose them, never lose you." Rhaegal nudges your shoulder, causing a watery chuckle to escape from your lips. "But, above anything, I wish that I had been able to show you both how much I loved you as fiercely, and as loyally, as you loved me, because I would have died to protect you. I would have gladly sacrificed myself so you both could live."

Shifting back, you look at your darling boys, never letting your hands stray too far from the warmth of their scales. "I want you to know how much I love you, how much I will always love you, and that you'll never be far from my heart. No matter how much time passes, I will never forget either of you. I will never forget the moments we made together and the love you freely gave me. I will never forget what you both have done for me." You lightly place a kiss on both of their snouts. "Goodbye, my darling boys, for the next time I see you, I won't be leaving your sides ever again."

Viserion and Rhaegal press closer, their wings stretching out further to eclipse the very sky above you; casting the diluted light into a fractured array of bronze and gold coloring. The sight bringing you peace as the beginnings of the world starts to blur at the edge of your vision.

And, even as everything fades into grey around you — the twin gazes, one gold and the other bronze, act as a beacon of light to where you were meant to go.

Rain hammers against tall windows, accompanied by the occasional flash of lightning that illuminates the grand tapestries on the walls within the royal bedchamber; the air heavy with the scent of salt and sea, mingling with the sweet incense burned by the attending septas.

You don’t know what had caused you to feel the sudden urge to travel to Dragonstone, remnants of a hazy memory being your only clue; as you rarely left King’s Landing since the news of the impending heirs became public knowledge. Daenerys hadn’t been happy about the potential trip — the way in which she had grit her teeth almost made you believe she was about to spit fire — but something in your eyes must have given her the impression that you weren’t going to back down.

Her acceptance didn’t mean it was an easy trip — with Daenerys’ constant hovering, Drogon snapping at anyone that got too close, and Grey Worm almost stabbing three maids that had suddenly appeared to help you out of the days outfit, being the lightest of the events that had occurred — but the sight of the ancient castle, with its dark spires reaching out to seemingly conquer the sky itself, brought with it a wave of relief that nearly keeled you over; the pressure within your heart clicking into place, making everything right once more.

Everything had gone smoothly for the first five days of your spontaneous vacation, but things had almost imploded when Daenerys had been told, via a raven, her presence was needed in King’s Landing due to a few of the minor noble families stirring up trouble with the visiting dignitaries from Essos. You knew that your wife didn’t wish to leave you, not so late into your pregnancy, nor did your son, but escalating drama within King’s Landing — one Daenerys wanted you far away from — compelled her to shift from doting wife to Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

She had left the next morning, with a searing kiss pressed to your lips, arms wrapped tight around your form, and a whispered vow seemingly imprinted into your skin: “I will be back within the next two days, I swear it. Even if that means I have to kill every last person that would dare keep me from you.”

Which means it was only right that you’d go into labor on the end of the second day; a raging storm, the likes that hadn’t been seen since your darling wife had been born, crashing over Dragonstone.

“Daenerys still isn’t here?” You gasp, a strangled groan escaping you at the same time. “Shouldn’t she be here by now?”

Grey Worm stands by your side, his sharp features etched with concern. “No, Your Grace, but I know she’ll arrive soon. Even with this weather I’m certain the raven will have reached her by now. For the moment, until Her Majesty can be here, I implore you to focus on yourself.” His rough hand clutch yours, offering what little warmth and reassurance he can. “I’ll be by your side until then.”

The maester, with his wispy beard and trembling hands, no doubt aware of what would happen to him if something were to go wrong, moves between your legs, his voice steady despite the chaos outside. “Push now, gently,” he instructs, his soft tone a sharp contrast to the tempestuous night.

You follow his guidance, clutching at Grey Worm’s proffered hand, summoning every ounce of strength left within your body.

The ancient stones of Dragonstone seem to tremble in response to each clap of thunder, as if the very castle shared in your agony. Yet, amidst the roaring winds and pain — a single strike of clarity, not unlike the lightning streaking through the sky, hits you; a profound sense of determination racing through your haggard form, burrowing deep within your heart, to bring life into this world, despite the raging storm and the absence of your wife.

Gritting your teeth, an agonized cry tears itself from deep within your chest, as you push once more, only faintly hearing the guiding words of the maester.

And, just as another streak of lightning illuminated the sky, Daenerys stormed into the room, her presence commanding and urgent; violet eyes burning with residual fury at being held up, and silvery-gold hair slightly disheveled, betraying the haste in which she had arrived to Dragonstone.

Where she is, Drogon is sure to quickly follow, you think, warmth spreading through you at the sight of your wife and the knowledge your son was home. And, just as the thought crosses your mind, a familiar shadow casts itself over the room, thundering wing-beats being easily discernible from the crackling lightning. No matter how tired he may have been from his long journey, Drogon would stay outside until you brought the twins into this world; a thought that brings a wave of affection for your eldest crashing through you.

“I’m here,” Daenerys announced, voice strained in apology but her relief was palpable as she made her way to your side; taking the spot that Grey Worm had quickly vacated. Pressing a kiss to the hand clasped in hers, Daenerys brushes a sweat-soaked strand of hair from your overheated forehead. “I’m sorry I’m late. I wanted nothing more than to be back by your side the moment I left it.”

You’re only able to offer her a strained smile in response, another wave of pain shooting through you as the maester continues guiding the process along.

Daenerys, easily taking note of your state, turns wild eyes to the gathered servants. “How is she? How far along are we?” The strained quality of her voice, coupled with the vice grip she has upon your hand, gives you an easy understanding of where your wife’s mind had went; to the night of her own birth in this very castle — a night where Daenerys Targaryen was borne but Rhaella Targaryen ceased to exist. “Has there been any issues?”

“No, Your Majesty.” A midwife helpfully supplies, her presence near the bed signifying that you’d hopefully bringing one of your twins into the world soon. “Everything has gone well. Her Majesty has been doing well. There’s no cause for alarm.”

Daenerys, while still stiff, seemed to accept the response, her attention swiftly falling to you solely. “I’m right here, my beloved. I’m not going anywhere.”

Time seems to stretch into an eternity — you’re barely able to discern Daenerys gentle hold, and soothing words, from the maester that was still acting as a guiding light — and the pain is almost stifling until, with one final push, the first of your twins enters the world.

Exhausted, yet elated at the same time, you watch, through bleary eyes, as a midwife quickly takes the babe into her arms to clean, only giving you the barest glimpse of a tiny form before disappearing into the swarm of moving bodies.

But, however much your body may rebel at the thought, the labor wasn’t over yet; another wave of pain crashing over you, ensured that you understood that fact. With every bit of strength you had left in your body, while sweat beaded your brow, and your wife stayed steadily by your side, you give one final push and feel as your second child comes into the world; the same process quickly taking place as the babe was swept away to be seen to.

Twin cries soon fill the chamber in a harmonious display of new life — cutting through the fog that had fallen over your mind — a sound that brings tears to your eyes and a lightness to your chest, as if a weight had suddenly been lifted that you hadn’t even realized was there.

“Boys! You’ve had two beautiful boys, Your Majesty!” A portly midwife bustles towards you, a delicately small form cradled against her clothed chest. “Perfectly healthy.”

Your son is soon placed on your chest, skin to skin, and he’s soon joined by his brother; both babes swaddled but giving you a perfect view to see their beautiful faces. Looking up at your dragon, you can’t help the tears that stream down your face when you notice her own glistening upon porcelain skin.

“Two handsome princes,” you murmur, gently tracing a line down a chubby cheek. “I can’t believe we’re mothers, Dany.” Your eyes meet the violet gaze of your wife, happiness shared between you like the love that has bonded you for years. “After all this time, I can’t believe that I’m actually here.”

“I never wish to be anywhere else,” Daenerys replies, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple, smoothing a hand down your back. “I would do it all over again, go through all the pain and heart ache, if it meant that I could end up right back here with you, with our children.”

Angling your head, you huff out a light chuckle, taking note that Drogon had taken his leave to, no doubt, rest on the cliff side until he was allowed to meet his siblings in person; something you were excited to do, but your new position also allows you to get a better look at your Khaleesi for the first time; your brow furrowing in concern instantly.

“I thought I was supposed to be the only one covered in blood.” You tug at the crimson stained fabric of her ornate tunic. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m more than fine, dearest one,” Daenerys soothes, calmly smoothing a wild strand of hair back behind your ear. “I simply honored the promise I made to you upon my departure.”

Even if that means I have to kill every last person that would dare keep me from you.

Your eyes flutter shut, arms tightening ever-so-slightly around the twins. “Who did you kill, Dany?” Violet eyes, filled with open amusement, are the first thing you see when you collect yourself. “It wasn’t anyone that’d cause a war, is it?”

“As if any of the nobleman would dare test me,” she scoffs, clearly affronted at the mere insinuation. “I made it abundantly clear how foolish it’d be to keep me from arriving back at your side promptly, something that most of those imbeciles seemed to take as a challenge. A feat that became even more imbecilic when I had received the raven stating that you had gone into labor.”

“How many?”

“I don’t see why that would matter—”

“How many, Daenerys?” You interrupt, the sharpness within your gaze causing your wife to halt mid-sentence. “Don’t you dare lie to me either, I’ll find out sooner or later.”

Daenerys huffs. “A little over two dozen, I’d wager.” Her eyes roll skyward, as if she still couldn’t believe the audacity of the people who had stood between her and her family. “However, as I was saying, I don’t see why that would matter. I did tell them to not get in my way, especially since I was already in a horrid mood having to deal with their foolishness to begin with, not to mention leaving your side, I simply ran out of the patience that had already been in short supply.”

“I don’t even wish to imagine what you would have done if you had missed the birth of our sons.”

Your wife tilts her head. “I would have killed them all, of course. Keeping me from you is a sin upon itself, but keeping me away so you go through something like this alone? Wherein anything could have happened to you?” Daenerys shakes her head at the mere notion. “There wouldn’t be any mercy left in my heart; for there can never be any remnants if someone dares affect you due to their actions.”

Despite yourself, and still wanting to know the finer details about who exactly she had killed, and what sort of mess you could expect upon your return to King’s Landing, you couldn’t help the affection that courses through your veins; Daenerys, for everything that she was, and everything she used to be, had always loved you. More than you think you deserve, in all honesty, but the clear dedication she had for you was never more apparent than in this moment.

So, for her, for everything that she has done, and will continue to do, in the name for her love towards you, you decide to drop the conversation for the moment. This wasn’t a time to get into a petty squabble with your wife; not when your sons slumbered peacefully against your chest.

Daenerys, clearly on the same wave of thought, runs a slender finger across the wisps of silvery-gold hair peeking out from underneath the cloth of the twin closest to her. “What shall we call them, ñuha perzys?”

You pause, ruminating over the variety of choices; Old Valyrian was an obvious choice, something strong to showcase the roots that your sons now held to the ancient world, but what names stuck out the most?

Suddenly, as if hit by a bolt of lightning, you realize the only choice of what they could be.

“I have the perfect names in mind, Dany.” Whispers of a phantom dream wisp through your mind, echoing deep within your heart and soul, your smile turning soft as you gently stroke the soft cheeks of your twins. “If you’ll allow me the honor of bestowing them?”

Daenerys’ beautiful smile in return, violet eyes glassy with unshed tears, is all you needed to see to understand that she was more than willing to grant you whatever you wished.

“I think I’ve always known. It’s just something I haven’t been able to see until now.” You lean against your wife, nestled safely underneath her arm, forever seeking the warmth she so effortlessly provided, as you spoke to the room at large: the surrounding midwives, a wizened maester, various servants, and your most loyal guards, all standing at attention. “I’d like you all to meet Prince Rhaegon and Prince Viseryn of House Targaryen.”

And, if you allowed yourself to believe, to listen close enough, through the crashing of the waves and the rage of the wind, as well as the cheering of the people within the room, you could just make out the twin sounds of answering roars from across the Narrow Sea.

[andypantsx3]

part ii of the dragon shouto au : prequel + part i warnings: unedited lol, afab implied fem reader, possessive dragon boyfriend shouto, unrealistically excellent first time, 18+ minors please dni!!

the thing about having a human-shaped shouto on your hands was that he didn't quite seem to understand humans did things differently than dragons.

where before you'd cuddle up against shouto in his dragon form and spend the night insulated under his thick leathery wings, or let him rest his head in your lap as you absently stroked his scales—those things took on an entirely different connotation when you thought about performing them with a human man.

particularly a human man who looked like shouto.

shouto did not appreciate the distinction.

"i am yours and you are mine," he said simply, the third night after he'd transformed.

you'd tried to take him home, at first, unclear about what to do with an entire human man on your hands, but had quickly realized this unwise.

your parents, ordinarily traditional and fussy, had been floored by the audacity of your bringing a man home still unwed. but they had kept their distance once shouto's pupils went slitted, and a familiar guttural noise tore out of him when they attempted to remove you from him, not-quite-human-teeth snapping.

it was exactly as it had been when you'd brought him home as a child, and he a lizard the size of a fat cat. he'd staked an unmistakable claim on you, and any hand that got between you two would be severed.

so you'd taken shouto back out into the field where he'd transformed, in the interest of keeping your family home intact. you'd lit a fire again, camping out with him over night, trying to keep your distance and failing.

"it's different with humans," you said, freezing when shouto's head suddenly appeared in your lap. he looked up at you expectantly, those blue and grey eyes searching your face, a tiny frown on his lovely mouth.

"it is not different. you are mine in any form," he said. a large, elegant-fingered hand caught yours, guiding your hand up to his hair.

you laughed despite yourself, his insistence on being pet all too familiar in any form as well. carefully, you stroked your fingers through the red and white strands, marveling at their silky softness. shouto's eyes slipped closed and he let out a contented huff, long eyelashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks.

your face heated. he was very beautiful.

"in human custom, i can only belong to one man," you said to shouto, unable to keep the dismay from your voice.

you did not want to take a husband, and it would be all the more difficult now that the entire village had seen human shouto trailing after you the last few days, following you as he always did in his dragon form. except now they had all seen very human, very male hands on you, had seen how closely shouto shadowed you, as if your body was an extension of his own, and no space was needed between you.

you knew there was already talk.

"i am one man," shouto rumbled, turning his face into your stomach. something fluttery jumped in your stomach as the feeling of his soft exhalation over your hip bone.

"i meant a husband, shouto," you said. "i am obliged to take a husband."

shouto was quiet a moment, before another slow, hot breath warmed the fabric of your shirt. "you said i was the only boy for you."

something lightning hot raced up your spine, embarrassment mixed with the thrill of the implication. you looked into the fire for something to do with your attention, watching the flames lick over the logs.

"i said that when you were a dragon," you hissed, your ears prickling with heat. "i didn't mean you would be my husband."

a strong arm wound its way around your waist, pulling you that much closer to shouto, locking you against him. a fiery blue eye cracked open, fixing on you with inhuman intensity. the pupil looked a little slitted in the firelight, and you swallowed in apprehension.

"i am yours and you are mine. if that means i am to be your husband then i will be," shouto said with unmistakable decisiveness.

the thing in your stomach fluttered again, and your thighs shifted beneath shouto's head. his other hand gripped the flesh above your knee, holding you in place.

you choked, your hands freezing in shouto's mop of white-and-scarlet hair. "you don't know what that means."

his hands tightened on you. "i have lived among your people nearly as long as you have. i am not unfamiliar with human custom."

your face burned, words slipping out of your reach. did he really understand what he was saying here? you'd known he'd long understood you, but it had never been clearly exactly how much his dragon brain was processing. but now...

"but you can't—if you know what it means—shouto, you can't—"

a hot mouth met the skin of your stomach, just under your shirt, and the words choked off in your throat. a slow, careful nip to your skin made you freeze.

"i will be your husband and you will be mine," he purred, his voice slightly muffled against your skin. his mouth dragged over your hip.

your hand fisted in his hair, gripping on for purchase. shouto did not seem to mind, his mouth mapping the edge of your stomach, your hip, the waistline of your unladylike trousers.

a shaky breath escaped you. "there are parts of a human union, though, shouto, that i'm not sure you, um, quite understand."

the hand at your knee slid up your thigh as the hand at your back disappeared, reappearing at your hip, pulling the waist of your pants a little lower.

"i understand," shouto replied, his mouth meeting the newly exposed strip of skin above your pelvis. it was only his grip on you, the weight of him across your legs that kept you from jumping a mile into the air. "i have taken this form for that reason."

words failed you, their meanings slipping right out of your mind as shouto's mouth moved painfully gently and deliberately lower and lower.

"ah, shouto—" you managed.

shouto hummed, and you felt his eyelashes flutter against the skin of your stomach, though most of his face was obscured by the fall of your shirt.

"you smell like mine," he rumbled into your skin, sounding altogether too pleased. "i will make it so. i will keep you and care for you as you have kept and cared for me."

another trembling breath quivered in your lungs before you found yourself flat on your back on the ground. shouto had somehow managed to keep himself beneath your shirt, only this time his mouth met the underside of your chest bindings.

"you like it," his voice sounded wondering where it issued from beneath your shirt. you'd have found it comical if not for what he was saying. "you like this form—i can smell it."

his weight moved on your legs, shifting into the cradle of your thighs. he was so warm and broad over you, hot as fire even though the shirt and trousers you'd managed to wrangle him into.

you did not like being laid so bare, but shouto was your oldest friend, and your attention was rapidly being subsumed not by his words but by the feeling of your chest bindings coming undone under your shirt.

"shouto—you are, um, of course very handsome," you said, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders. you thought you should push him away to have this conversation from a safer distance, but your arms were barren of the strength to do so, instead clutching him closer. "but you've only been a man for a couple of days. what if there are other women who—oh—oh!"

a hot mouth closed over your left nipple, soft but firm as if in reprimand. "there are no other women. there is only you."

a hot tongue, a little longer than you thought might be normal, laved over the peak. your hips pressed up into shouto without your say so, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. he was doing a little too well under there.

"sho—shouto," you said when he found the other breast, long fingers pulling your bindings down to expose it to him. you'd never had a man's mouth on you before, except for the kiss shouto had given you upon first transforming.

the feeling was mind-numbingly good, and suddenly the idea of a husband—of shouto as your husband—was altogether too appealing, if this is what it was going to be like.

your hips shifted into him again, and you felt his rumbling purr in the meat of your breast.

"my treasure. mine." shouto said when he finally seemed satisfied with the attention he'd lavished on your breasts.

he pulled himself back out of your shirt, leaning in to take your mouth instead as he laid himself out over you. you could feel something firm and insistent press against your inner thigh, hot and hard and unmistakable.

shivers crawled up your skin, little frissons of pleasure.

"say you will be mine," shouto puffed against your mouth, his hands already yanking at your trousers. "please say you will be mine."

he was so handsome over you, your most steadfast friend wearing the most beautiful face you had ever seen, new to you and yet so undeniably familiar, somehow. the sight of him settled that feeling inside you you'd had your entire life, the feeling that the thing you were meant for was just out of reach, just beyond the next corner.

he looked like everything you were meant for—everything that was meant for you.

feeling strangely squirmish and shy, you managed an answer. "i always have been."

a heartbreakingly beautiful grin swept over shouto's mouth, a sweet half-moon. his pupils were unmistakably slitted, his two-toned eyes looking just as they did in his dragon form.

in a few shift movements shouto had you both divested of your trousers, and was pressing slowly, carefully inside you.

the feeling was strange, foreign. but with shouto over you, the weight of him holding you down kept you grounded, and soft kisses to your neck and shoulder kept you just distracted enough as he slid home inside of you.

you felt full in a way you'd never imagined, physically and otherwise. your nerves sparked to life when two of shouto's fingers found their way to where you connected, pressing firmly over your clit. a shivery moan escaped you, and shouto's mouth clamped down lightly over your shoulder.

"mine, mine, mine," he groaned into your skin, flexing his hips. the slide of him inside you was better than you'd known it would be, especially when he cupped the small of your back, pulling you into him at an angle.

between his fingers on your clit, rubbing little insistent circles, and the press of him inside of you, you quickly grew frantic, returning his thrusts with eager motions of your own hips, reveling in the way it sent sparks skittering up all your nerve endings.

your liked the way your breasts pressed into his chest, the firm way he held you to him, the bruises he was sucking into the skin of your neck. talented fingers pinched carefully at your clit, a slurry of sensation.

he seemed determined to work you up, hard and fast, and he was succeeding. you felt like pudding in his hands, melting, dripping, hot over his fingers. every single one of his movements seemed calculated to drive you insane, drive you to writhe against him harder, more desperately.

in no time at all you were gasping his name into the cool night air, chasing the release of an unfamiliar pressure.

"let go, love," shouto said, kissing your mouth again. "let go and be mine."

you nodded, words failing you as something inside of you snapped and a tidal wave of pleasure crashed into you, sweeping away all thought. shouto fucked you right through it, his groans rumbling into growls, full-throated and deep. the slide of him inside you became almost too much and you squirmed underneath him, but couldn't bring yourself to want it to stop.

shouto's thrusts grew faster, messier. you heard his fingers rake the ground at the side of your head as he finally came too, his slender hips grinding into your thigh as he spilled inside of you. he went rigid over you, huffing your name, until finally he relaxed into you, his hard body pinning you to the ground.

"this will be an interesting conversation to have," you said some minutes later, when both of you had settled. your hands found their way into shouto's hair again and he pressed up into them like a pleased tomcat.

"there will be no question now. you are my mate, and i am your husband," shouto said, sounding smug. his eyes were closed but you thought they would be glittering with pleasure if they were open.

"we'll still need to do the human ceremony," you said. "but i can't imagine anyone could stop us."

shouto all but purred. "i will eat them if they try."

you laughed, yanking on his hair. "you will do no such thing."

"then i will fly you off to the nearest cave and mate you so thoroughly no questions could ever be asked," he said instead. "there will be no doubt you are mine."

your thighs clenched involuntarily around his hips, and you could tell by the flutter of his long lashes that he was suppressing a smug expression.

"maybe for the honeymoon," you allowed, trying not to sound too interested.

but shouto was your oldest friend and you were learning he'd long known everything about you. "definitely for the honeymoon," he decided, shifting to pull you into the circle of his arms, tucked safely into his side.

you settled into his embrace, feeling truly content for the first time in your life, certain of the one thing shouto had been insisting this whole time.

you were his, and he was yours. always.

[hisfavegiri]

You’re Mine - Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Warning : typical inscet Targaryen, breeding kink, breast slapping, rough sex, jealous Aegon.

Summary: On Aegon's name day, you spent time dancing with everyone. But there is someone who is always watching you

You laughed out loud while dancing to the song, you deliberately didn't accept invitations from all the lords because you didn't really like it.

Your mother and father are watching you with smiles on their faces, as is your grandfather who is sitting at the head of the royal table.

"Good evening princess, I hope you enjoy the party"

You turned your head and found Brandon Tyrell standing behind you, you smiled and nodded slowly.

"Good evening Brandon, yes I really enjoyed this party"

"Glad to know that princess, may I ask you to dance?"

You hesitated but then you accepted his invitation and started dancing with him. Without you realizing it, Aegon had been watching you intently.

"He won't stop dancing with her if you just look at them from here" Aemond's voice made Aegon turn towards him.

Aemond was right, but Aegon was not in the mood to dance. but seeing you laughing and dancing with other people makes his blood boil. Then Aegon stood up making your mother look at him with a confused look.

"I'll be right back," he said and stepped towards you, his steps were very heavy but also fast.

"So Brandon, do any of the women in this palace catch your attention?"

"So far I have only looked at you princess, there is no other woman as beautiful as you"

You laughed at his words, until the sound of a cough distracted you. "Evening Sir Brandon, can I dance with my sister?"

You looked at Aegon in shock, then Brandon nodded and walked away from the two of you. now you and Aegon started dancing

“What did you talk to him about? I saw you were very cheerful and laughing out loud earlier. “You could clearly hear the dislike and jealousy in his tone, you just smiled and shook your head.

“Why do you want to know? It doesn't matter Aegon” you said quietly, you really liked it when he saw him jealous.

Aegon snorted and squeezed your waist, his eyes staring at you sharply and deeply.

"Don't play with me sister, you know I don't like it when people touch anything that's mine."

You shivered when he whispered his last words, your bodies were so close together now. you could see many eyes watching the two of you, including your father and mother.

you heard Aegon chuckle softly, “did the dragon get your tongue darling?”

“Aegon, everyone’s starting at us” you whisper back to him, and he looks around then he smiles and he looks back at you. "Let them, so everyone know that you are mine"

Once alone, Aegon closed the door behind them, trapping you within his gaze. His voice was commanding, laced with possessive desire. "You looked stunning out there, sister. But remember this, you're mine, and no one else's." Aegon caressing your neck while whispering close to your ears.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in Aegon eyes. "Aegon, what are you trying to do?," you protested, but your words were cut off as he moved closer, his proximity overwhelming you.

And as he stepped in front of large mirrors in his chambers, he stared into the reflection looking back at your silhouette. your hair was messy, your face was glimmering underneath his sweat and as he moved away your long and silky hair. Then he release your dress slowly by murmurs his breath afterwards he is revealing your body in naked.

He lets his eyes go wide and his expression softens for full persuasive effect, you huffs, leaning in again. Then, Aegon presses their lips together. He’s firm, making the most of the brief moment afforded to you. He parts his lips and lets out a soft sigh before finally pulling away, your face a shade or two redder than when she had first leaned in.

Aegon reaches out let you to sit between his spread going slow to make sure his sister is comfortable with the new position. Aegin hands slide down your sides and he tenses as they brush past your core, “Ng— Aegon..”

Aegon other hand slowly tracing down from your lips and trickles through your naked breast. You silently admires Aegon’ broad chest and toned shoulder as you casts your full attention on him. You can feel your cheeks slowly heat up as you senses Aegon bores his focus on your figure as well.

“All mine.”

Aegon low voice breaks the silence, magically captivating you and makes your hand wander to touch his collarbones, expression lightens up in fascination despite your reddening face. You lowers your palm to caress his stomach, then up to his chest and lets it lingers there. Aegon lips curl up into a gentle smile at the action. He remains in that position, enjoying the warm touch of his sister.

Then you squealed softly as Aegon pulled you to his bed, you both laughed softly and you kissed his lips. You looked at Aegon's face and stroked his cheeks, he looked at you.

“On your stomach, now” You sulked and reluctantly laying down. Aegon slowly stroked your bottom, smirking a bit. You shivered at the sensation, a whimper leaving your lips.

“You've been a bad girl, haven't you love? talking to other man, making me jealous” Aegon asked, playing with his sister ass. You reluctantly nodded your head. "Y-yes I have..." you muttered out quitely.

Aegon chuckled. "You know what bad girls get? They get punishments? And you're about to get yours." you shuddered, bringing your ass up for him viewing pleasure. He groaned. "Eager as always, aren't we?" He teased, before unexpectedly spanking you. You yelped, tears threatening to leave your eyes from the force.

Aegon affectionately rubbed your behind and gave you another slap. "One." He counted. He spanked her once more. "Two." Another slap echoed through the room. "Three." He said. By the tenth spank, you was a whining mess, begging him to stop. Aegon picked you up and sat you on his lap. He kissed your cheek and rubbed your thigh. "There there dove, it's all done." He said, ending his words with a peck on your lips.

Then he lays you down and climbs on top of you, kissing your whole face gently until he stops at your lips and kisses them softly. “let me take care off you love” as he looked at your bare body on his bed.

You absolutely never fails to leave Aegon awestruck by your ethereal attractiveness, especially when you’re underneath him without any fabrics concealed your curves. He rotates his hips slightly after his length is fully sunk into her, eliciting an obscene moan from the opposite side.

As their gazes collide, Aegon’s hand discovere new purchase around the smaller's neck and squeezes slightly. Then, he applies additional pressure to the sides, feeling your throat constricts and your breath hitches down. After a moment, Aegon lets go and picks up a steady pace. His palm drifting to cradle your jaw before dragging his thumb across your lower tier. Under Aegon’s fingers, your lips flutter with warm  breath as you basks in the pleasure.

"Fuck i love the way your walls squeeze me, the way you taking me so well"

You couldn't help but sigh because his pace became more faster also becoming hard and Aegon kept hitting the spot that made your toes curl. He smirked, when looking at you who's holding down at the sheet. You threw your head back as Aegon’s kept on pounding into you. You shut your eyes as the knot inside your stomach grew tighter, signaling that you was about to come.

"Look at me baby, look at me when I'm fuck you good" You looked at his eyes and bite your lower lips, His thrusts were relentless, his pace was brutal. He leaning down to kiss your neck. You whined when he hit that certain spot, she could feel the smug smile against your neck.

"That's the spot huh?" you can't even answer, your eyes are roll back from the pleasure.

"Only my cock that will keep filling you, and i will remind you that everyday." He said, and continued rubbing your swollen clit. you let out a whine, "Ngh—yes yes please ..." you replies breathlessly, squeezing your eyes shut as Aegon keep pistoning his hips toward yours.

"I'll fuck you whenever I want, wherever I want, and will breed you over and over again. My seed will fill your womb, and grow in your belly. I can't wait." Aegon growled with every thrust. “gonna make you swollen with my babies”

your mind goes crazy as you imagine you swell with his child, letting everyone know that you only belong to him. “yes yes yes, please”

Aegon chuckled. "make everyone now that you’re mine, just mine, All mine" He says while slapping your breast lightly, which made you moan.

“ohh P-please..." you rasped. He groaned, he was near his peak.

"Shit, I'm close baby" He said. Your body began to shake with unimaginable pleasure.

"Fuck, now make a mess for me. Cum for me" you let out a high pitched moan as you reached your peak, thrn he thrusted a few more times to make sure that he’s seeds is deep inside you "now you can sleep love" he chuckled and kissed her forehead.

— tag list : @danytar

let me now if you want to be on my tag list for the new story 🙌🏻😉

[aemondapologistfrfr]

His Princess - pt2

Pt 2 of His Princess

fancast!bloody ben x targ!fem!reader

Summary: Rhaenyra asks y/n to take her host to Harrenhal to speak to Daemon. Y/n rises to the challenge of Daemon and the River Lords watch on in shock and silence.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, political plotting, prob wine somewhere in a cup, bathing, thigh riding, face riding, p in v

Authors Note: soft moments w silverwing and ben, i believe this man would beg you teach him some high valyrian just so he could talk to silverwing and write it down and keep it in his pocket, idc if it’s unrealistic to pet a dragons belly it’s real to me!!, daemon needs to LEAVE harrenhal and step tf up like enough already

Word Count: 4.7k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Over the past week I’ve been in contact with Jace about the status of our growing host in the Riverlands. Rhaenyra has finally returned home and expresses her gratitude for the swords that I’ve raised for her. She takes over the correspondence from Jace as we begin to discuss who is on our side and best ways to bring the other Lords to our cause.

She confides to me concerning her worry about Daemon. She has asked that I meet Ser Alfred Broome in Harrenhal and see if Daemon can be brought to reason. She hopes that he will start to relax and hopefully return to Dragonstone upon seeing their host. We have been on the move ever since her request while slowly adding swords along the way.

“We should reach Harrenhal on the morrow.” Ben ducks into the tent as I lounge on the makeshift bed.

“Thank the Gods. I need a fucking bath.” I slide over so he can join me.

“You still look absolutely divine to me.” as he pulls me into him.

“Oh I’m sure,” I roll my eyes. “The dirt and grime are very comely.” I sigh looking at my nails.

“At Harrenhal I’ll make sure you get the largest and hottest bath available. Even if it means displacing its current Lord.” he promises.

“I’ll hold you to that.” I hum. “I have no idea what state Daemon is in.” I sigh, wiping my face.

“He should be happy you’ve raised a host.” Ben murmurs as he finger brushes through my hair.

“We can only hope.” I moan as his fingers scratch along my scalp as I turn so he can continue his movements.

“Let’s hope they have feed to spare for Silverwing. She’s been eyeing our host for some time now.” he chuckles as he begins to loosely braid my hair.

“Mm, speaking of, I should take her out to hunt.” I sigh stretching out as he completes the plait.

“Will you let me come with you this time?” his eyes light up as he pleads.

“You’ll have to ask her yourself.” I chuckle as I begin to rise and stretch out.

I slowly put my riding armor back on as Ben quickly pulls his own armor on stumbling after me out of the tent. The host around us is now up to 5,000 swords and it’s easy to get lost in the chaos that surrounds us daily. We see the outline of Silverwing in the trees as we approach.

“Wait,” Ben pulls me to a stop. “It’s Hello my beast Silverwing?” a laugh bubbles out of my mouth as his face turns red.

“Y/n, my Princess, please.” he begs trying to hide his embarrassment.

“If you say that she will never allow you to ride with me.” I try to settle my giggles. “Hello, my beautiful Silverwing.” I look to him and nod for him to repeat.

“Hello, my beautiful Silverwing?” his Riverland accent makes the sentence sound funny but he’s got the words down at least.

“Well let’s go see if I get to keep enjoying you or if her meal has delivered itself to her.” I pull him by his arm with a smile on my face. I nod at him to go greet my sleeping dragon as I stand nearby.

“Hello,” his voice slightly stumbles as she begins to stir. “Hello, my beautiful Silverwing.” I hear the confidence in his voice as Silverwing begins to rise.

She looks over to me and then looks down at Ben and huffs. His hair is blown askew by her deep breath as she lowers her head to his height. He puts his hands up as I continue to give her a stern look. She gives a soft chirp before she pushes him with her snout.

“I didn’t learn any other words. Y/n says my accent is funny.” he speaks softly to Silverwing as he settles his hands on the side of her jaw.

She softly blinks at him and then looks to me as if I was so mean for stating the obvious to him. Ben slowly relaxes as he continues to offer her pats. She watches him intently as he begins to walk the length of her. She thuds back to the ground and rolls onto her side for him to pat her belly.

“Oh you big baby.” I chuckle lovingly as I approach them both. We continue to offer her pats and words of adoration until she grumbles and begins to turn back over. “He wants to come with us to hunt.” her eyes lock with mine and narrow. She closes her eyes and dips her wing down for us to climb up.

“Let’s see how this goes.” I breathe out as I gesture for him to start climbing.

“What do I grab on to?” he turns to me suddenly nervous.

“Whatever you can. I’ll be right behind you.” I nod reassuringly as he grabs on to her leg. Silverwing chuffs as we slowly climb on and settle into the saddle. I clip us in and his arms wrap around my waist tightly.

“It’s not too late to get down.” I turn my head and offer to him softly.

“No, it’ll be fun.” he nods as he tries to strengthen his resolve but his words come out a little breathy.

“Fly, Silverwing.” she rises to her full height and I feel Ben’s hands lock tightly together around me.

She launches us into the sky and I feel Ben press his head into my back. I chuckle wildly as she circles our host and gives them an eerie song. We coast along the breeze until we reach the river and she slowly begins to dip down. Ben slowly releases his hands and begins to look down at the land below us.

“What a fucking rush.” he chuckles with me as Silverwing dips into the river to collect fish.

She continues to collect more fish and spits them out on the nearby shore. Once she has a large pile she lands and scorches the fish in a burning pyre. She quickly chomps down on her meal as we stay firmly seated basking in her power.

“Should we get-“

Silverwing shoots us back into the clouds as Ben gasps, handing flying around my waist once more. I raise my hands from the reins and allow my fingertips to caress the clouds as we fly back to camp. With enough encouragement, Ben releases his hands from my waist and allows his fingers to dance in the clouds with us.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We begin marching out just before dawn. The men grumble but are looking forward to making it to Harrenhal finally. Silverwing is becoming restless the closer we get to the Crownlands as she can feel the tension pulsing through us.

We mainly ride the breeze only going in front of the host when we’re about an hour out from the castle. As I approach, Caraxes high pitched song pierces my ears. Silverwing gives out a greeting as we circle back to our host. Caraxes seems to have stayed at the castle much to my relief that Daemon isn’t feeling particularly reckless today.

I land outside the gates and await the host to break through the trees. Once Ben is at my side we begin to approach the gates as they grind open. Daemon swaggers out and looks to me with his hand on his sword pommel.

“Y/n.” he looks at me and the men behind me as if he’s unimpressed.

“Daemon.” I sigh and roll my eyes.

“I’ve claimed Harrenhal.” I squint my eyes at his words.

“And I’ve raised a host.” I shake my head at him confused.

“For who?” he tilts his head to me.

“What is wrong with you? What do you mean? For Rhaenyra.” I approach him studying him.

“It seems as if his knees are bent to you the way he hovers behind you.” he raises his chin to Ben who has indeed followed close behind me on approach.

“Get over yourself. Are we welcome or no. You wanted an army and I’ve brought you one.” my voice starts to rise as I tire of his antics and want the bath I was promised.

“Did she send you?” Daemons eyes squint.

“You’re going fucking mad, Daemon. We are staying. I’m taking the largest bathtub.” I roll my eyes, shaking my head with a chuckle. “His knees are bent to me and he’s mine. He’s not to be touched by anyone.” Daemon smirks at my words as he gestures with his arm for us to enter.

“Welcome,” Lord Simon says as the gates groan the rest of the way open. “Welcome to Harrenhal.

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I almost sob looking at the massive bath made before me. I make quick work of my clothes and armor as servants whisk them away to clean them before leaving me alone. The second the seaming water engulfs me all of my muscles sigh in relief. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and I groan.

“What?” I grit out through my teeth.

“It’s me.” Ben peeks his head around the door.

“Then get in here and shut the door. I’m in the fucking bath, Ben.” I hiss at him and feel instantly bad as I know I shouldn’t take my frustrations out on him. “I’m sorry,” I sigh out. “What’s wrong?” I sink lower into the pool.

“You didn’t invite me and I felt left out.” his voice teasing. I grab his hand and begin to pull him in with me. He bats my hand away chucking as he takes his clothes off before slipping in the water next to me.

“Better?” I ask resting my head on his shoulder.

“Much.” he hums content. “What happened with Daemon earlier?” he asks softly before grabbing the soap next to us so we can begin our deep clean.

“He’s going insane. I have no idea what’s wrong with him.” I shake my head not knowing how I’m supposed to deal with this. Hopefully Ser Alfred will arrive soon and offer his support.

“What did he say?” he asks as helps me wash my hair once he’s finished his.

“He knows you’re loyal to me. I don’t think he trusts Rhaenyra. His words seemed off and paranoid. I’ll send a raven to Rhaenyra in the morning.” I know my tone is slightly clipped, I’m just done discussing pressing matters. I want to enjoy my bath while a handsome man dotes on me.

“Maybe it’s this old, haunted castle. They say it’ll turn the most sane man mad.” Ben thinks to himself as he rinses out my hair. I’m thankful we’re finally clean but I can’t handle this conversation any longer.

“Ben, I need you to be quiet and make me feel good or leave. I do not wish to discuss strategy or ghosts.” he chuckles as I turn and he takes in my scrunched brow.

“I’m sorry, my Princess. Is the war boring you?” he chuckles pulling me to straddle his thigh.

I sigh as he pulls me forward causing the most delicious friction. He continues sliding me across his thigh and my eyes shut. My hips begin to move on their own accord seeking the pleasure I’ve been needing all week. Whimpers fall from my mouth as Ben looks at me with a smirk.

“So you don’t want to discuss-“

“I will cut your fucking tongue out.” I reply breathlessly as his hands grind me down on to his thigh roughly.

“Then how will I be able to lick your-“

I crash my lips to his in hopes he’ll remain silent. He chuckles against my lips as his fingers dig into my sides. He begins to move my hips quicker as the water begins to splash around us. I begin to moan into his mouth as pleasure begins to explode through my body. His lips capture mine once more as he slowly continues to grind me against him to prolong my pleasure.

“Beautiful,” Ben whispers and my eyes snap open. “Fuck, please let me have said it right.” panic laces his words.

“You did,” my lips attach to his as my heart stumbles.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

I sit around the council table with the River Lords who look from me to Daemon. Ser Alfred has arrived this morning and hasn’t been able to form a coherent conversation with Daemon. My eyes stay planted on him as his head lulls as he grips his cup. When his eyes seem to uncloud he stares at Lord Simon’s child, Alys, I’m told.

“Pull yourself together.” I grit out to Daemon who is currently making a fool of himself.

“When did this meeting start?” his words borderline slurred as he looks to Alys who comes to his side.

I shake my head in confusion as she whispers into his ear. I look to Ben to make sure I’m not the only one seeing this and all of the Lords faces mirror mine. They turn me expectantly and I’m at a loss for what to do.

“That’s enough, Alys. Thank you.” I rise out of my chair dismissing her.

“Isn’t it strange we’re almost kin?” she whispers as she brushes past me. I turn quickly but she’s already out of the hall and I take my place again in my seat.

“Are you drunk?” I hiss to Daemon who has an amusing look on his face.

“Welcome River Lords,” Daemon rises, ignoring my question. “I’m thankful you’ve all deigned to join me in Harrenhal. I know how alluring it is to follow a Targaryen Princess.” he looks to me with a smirk.

“While you’ve been doing Gods know what, I’ve been rallying for Rhaenyra. Did she send you here to simply cut wood?” my anger very evident in my voice.

“I’ve secured the largest castle.” he looks down to me.

“Yes, the crumbling, empty castle. What a win Daemon. While you’ve been indulging yourself on wine and bastards we’ve all been doing our part to help Rhaenyra claim the throne.” I shake my head at a loss. I know we shouldn’t be speaking like this in front of the Lords but I can’t help it.

“I will not be belittled by you.” Daemon spits his words at me.

“You’ve done it yourself. Everyone at this table can see you’re going mad.” I look to him as he goes to look out the window.

Ser Alfred looks at me in warning not to push him too far. The other Lords are doing well to hide their terror as I verbally challenge Daemon in this hall. I’m hoping with the right kind of push and verbal berating he will get his head out of his ass and start to fight for Rhaenyra once more.

“Is that true?” he turns to the table of men with narrowed eyes. “Who thinks I’m going mad?” he approaches and leans his hands on the table assessing everyone.

“Go home, Daemon.” I rise from my chair to switch his focus to me and not our Lords. Ben’s hands slip to mine to try and have me sit back down but I can’t stand down from this fight, my mother needs me. “Rhaenyra needs you at her side.” I look to him with pleading eyes.

“Mm, is that what she told you?” he stalks over to me.

“If you bothered to read any of the ravens from either of us, you know it would be true. Must you always be reminded that you are The Daemon Targaryen? The Rogue Prince? You are a force to be reckoned with. Leave this crumbling castle to me and the Lords and return to Dragonstone. Clear your mind. Stand at her side so we may show a united front.” I can see my words process through his mind as he looks at me curiously.

“You want this castle for yourself.” he concludes much to my anger and frustration.

“Leave us.” I turn to the Lords who look at me slack jawed. They begin to shuffle out of the hall as Ben lingers behind. “Ben,” I warn with narrowed eyes.

“You think you can handle my daughter?” Daemon chuckles lowly as he looks to Ben. He hasn’t called me his daughter in years which is how I know something sinister is going on inside these walls. I walk to Ben and push him outside the door before I seal them.

“It’s saved you before.” Ben’s words are hushed as he places the bone knife into my palm. “Please don’t make me regret leaving this hall.” he looks down to me with pleading eyes as I shut the door separating us.

“Sit.” I nod my head to the table and slip the knife into an empty sheath at my thigh before I claim a seat across from him.

“Do you plan to kill me in this hall?” he chuckles as he takes a seat.

“I plan to make you see reason.” I study his movements which seem completely different from how this meeting started.

“Then by all means,” he raises his eyebrows gesturing with his hand for me to continue.

“You and Rhaenyra had a fight so now you sequester yourself into this ruin of a castle? To what end? Tell me your long term goal, Daemon. If I wouldn’t have arrived with a host you would still be splitting wood open, along with that bastard girls legs.” I look to him as he seems to find this amusing.

“To sit atop the Iron Throne. That is my only goal.” he hums.

“To place Rhaenyra on the throne?” I correct.

“She’s welcome to join me.” he nods his head as his thoughts seem to drift.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I don’t know if this was his plan all along or if these halls are truly haunted. We sit in silence and study each other waiting to see who will make the next move. I come up with a plan to get him outside of the castle in hopes he can clear his head and finally see his actions for what they are.

“When was the last time you’ve ridden Caraxes?” I change the subject hoping to bring him back to the present.

“It was only…” he trails off.

“Come, let’s go for ride.” I rise and look to him in question.

Surprisingly he follows me out of the hall. Ben is waiting on the other side of the door and he walks by my side. I instruct him to send a raven to Rhaenyra and say that I’m sending Daemon home and hopefully he should arrive tonight, I will escort him if needed. I also have him tell the servants to pack a small bag for Daemon for his travels home.

“Please return to me.” Ben kisses the side of my head and nods at my instructions.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

After a long flight our two dragons land in the abandoned countryside. I press my luck and dismount and turn to see that Daemon is doing the same. We meet between our two dragons as they sing a bone chilling song.

“I will go home.” he nods to me with a scrunched brow.

“You will?” I raise my eyebrow in surprise.

“Do not let that heinous woman inside your head. Don’t accept her tea.” he shakes his head as a shutter travels through him.

“Understood. Please send me a raven when you get to Dragonstone.” I reply curtly still not caring for him much at the moment.

“You’ve already sent her word of my return?” he asks over his shoulder as he begins to mount Caraxes.

“I have,” I nod my head up to him. “If you cause her trouble, I will come for you and show you why this growing host has bent its knees.” the threat is laced through my voice like a promise.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else, daughter.” he says before him and his blood worm launch into the skies.

I mount Silverwing and sigh in relief that somehow everything worked out. I hug Sliverwings neck and offer her words of love and praise before she brings us up to the clouds.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

Ben rushes to me once I dismount Silverwing and assesses me head to toe. Once he’s satisfied I’m in one piece he turns to Silverwing and walks around her and makes sure she’s taken no damage as well. He offers her soft pats before he returns to me.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispers before running back through the gates.

I lay down at Silverwings feet and curl into her. She wraps her head around me protectively as she sprawls on the ground. We hear motion from beyond the gates and we both raise our heads curiously. Ben walks through the gates trailing a couple cattle behind him.

“Thank you for keeping my Princess safe, my beautiful Silverwing.” he hums as he approaches her. I rise and come to his side as she begins to chirp him a song.

He leaves the cattle with her and he guides me back through the gates and into the castle. The Lords look at me expectantly as I call a short meeting in the council chambers. I tell them of Daemons hopeful return to Dragonstone and give Ser Alfred leave to follow after him and return to my mother. The Lords look to me in awe that I was able to rein Daemon in and send him back to Dragonstone. I end the meeting with promises of a more in depth discussion on the morrow.

“Let’s go to bed,” Ben hums softly as he offers me his hand.

We quickly make it back to our chambers and he seals the doors behind us. He cups my face and pulls me into a passionate kiss. He pulls apart resting his forehead on mine as we pant as I look up to him with low lids.

“I’m perfectly fine, you didn’t have to worry so much.” I breathlessly chuckle.

“I was worried for the King Consort, the look in your eyes in the council chamber was downright murderous.” he chuckles lowly before placing a quick kiss on my lips before he starts to remove my armor.

“Good he was being daft. Someone had to stand to him.” I roll my shoulders once he removes the plates there.

“Sometimes you fucking terrify me.” he whispers though his voice is full of devotion as he removes my last pieces.

“Mm, I’m honored.” I hum as I begin to remove my layers of clothing.

“Allow me, my Princess.” he whispers as he lifts my shirt above my head.

He slowly peels the rest of my clothes off. He removes his clothes with haste while pulling me over to the bed. He falls onto his back pulling me with on top of him. He kisses me softly and pulls back with a smirk.

“I think you should sit on my face.” he says lowly.

“What do you mean?” I shake my head chuckling.

“Put this,” his fingers reach down and slide through my wetness. “on my mouth.” his eyes are dark as they look to me.

I shiver as his fingers continue to ghost over my core. He begins to slowly pull me up his body until I finally rise and kneel on the bed to look down at him. He pats the side of my thigh trying to coax me to straddle his face. I let out a shaky breath and kneel above his face and look down at his eyes under me.

“Thank you, my Princess.” he says placing a soft kiss on each of my thighs.

His hands grab my waist and pull me flush against his mouth. His tongue begins to attack my clit and my head falls back. His name falls off my lips as he continues to swirl against my clit. I grind against his face and immediately stop. He grunts at my stillness and begins to move my hips himself as moans seep out of my mouth.

“Ben,” his name is the only thing I’m capable of saying.

This spurs him on and his tongue moves even more ferociously. My hips begin jerking on their own accord and he moans against me. The vibrations send me over the edge as I come against his face as he keeps lapping at me.

“Ben,” I whimper as he still holds me against his face.

His torturous tongue continues to circle my sensitive bud sending shock waves through my body. I’m a babbling mess above him as he starts to grind my hips against him again. A sob tears through me as I come against him once more. He lifts me off and I collapse face down on the bed next to him as he chuckles.

“You did so good for me.” he hums as I feel the bed dip behind me. “Aren’t you thankful you didn’t cut my tongue out.” his hands raise my hips until I’m resting on my knees. I turn my head and scowl at him until he starts swirling his tip around my wetness.

“Ben, please,” I whine breathlessly as he leans back.

“Hm?” his tone taunting. I try to push my hips back to find him once more but his hands on my hips keep me firmly in place.

“If you don’t fuck me surely I can find someone else who-“

He slams into me and a moan tears through me. He sets a brutal pace that has my face sliding against the sheets. All I can do is arch my back more as his hips repeatedly snap into mine. His trusts become slow and deep as his hands fall to the sides of my waist as he hovers above me.

“Who do you think can replace me?” he grunts in my ear while grinding his hips into mine.

“No one,” my words barely coherent as my hips chase the pleasure he’s offering.

“That’s what I thought.” he says arrogantly as he pulls me upright with him.

One of his hands stays at my waist to help steady me as he begins to hammer up into me. The other travels around my front teasing and pinching my nipples until it finds its way to my throat. His long fingers wrap around me while his hand from my waist sneaks down to my sensitive bud.

“I- Ben,” I whine as I come, clenching around him.

“Fuck Princess,” his hips slightly falter but he regains his composure quickly.

He pushes me forward back onto the bed while staying inside of me. His pace is crazed as his fingers dig deeply into my hips. I’m pushing back into him chasing all of the pleasure he wants to give me. My hands are fisted into the sheets while all I can do is whimper and breathe his name.

“One more time for me.” he growls while bringing his torturous hand between my thighs once more.

When his fingers reach my clit I see stars. I feel like pleasure is being torn from me in waves as I bury my head in the pillow. His hips shutter and warmth spreads throughout me before he slowly pulls out. He collapses on the bed next to me as we’re both panting and trying to catch our breath.

“I know I’m safe in Harrenhal because the only thing that could make me go mad is you.” he says breathily smoothing my hair.

“Back to your ghost stories already?” I huff as I turn to him and see him smiling down at me.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist

ps: i literally will write more of this if ppl want 🫣

Part 3

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 9

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, canon-typical violence, threats, yelling, plot

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 1.2K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

The hair on your neck stands up, and you whip around to see the woman in white.

“Welcome worlds-walker.”

“You-” You step back, hand going down to grab the knife you keep for protection.

“I wish to speak without the dragons breathing down our necks.” The woman stalks towards you, pulling her hood back. “Walk with me.”

You shakily return your dagger to its sheath, falling in step beside her. “What do you mean I must return?”

“We are all pieces of ourselves.”

“You keep saying that, but what does it mean,” you huff.

The witch stops, turning her head to meet your eyes. “Did you not think it odd that you entered this world in a familiar face and foreign body?”

A gasp catches in your throat, “so you mean there is another y/n? Is she in my world?”

The witch sighs, turning back to continue along the path. The godswood becomes denser the further you both walk, the path becoming overgrown as the trees close in. “It is complicated. There is another, but I know not where she is. She may be in your world, she may be trapped in another.”

A shiver runs down your spine. The logical part of you always knew there was another y/n here. One who fell in love and married Daemon and Rhaenyra all those years ago. One who raised children, attended balls, and rode dragons. “Can’t you wave some magic wand and find her?”

“No, but you can.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“You are as much the y/n of this world as she is of you,” the witch stops in front of a larger, gnarled tree. Her hands reach out to touch the face carved into the trunk. 

“The heart tree,” you breathe.

The witch grabs your hand, guiding you to press your palm to the trunk. “Focus and listen.”

You close your eyes, evening your breath. You hear seagulls crying as waves crashing against rock and feel wind biting against your skin. “My love, are you alright?” 

Your eyes blink open to see a younger Rhaenyra standing across from you, holding a flower crown. “Nyra?”

She grins, placing the flower crown on your head and pulling you in for a kiss. Her forehead rests against yours as her hands settle on your hips. “You are going to make a beautiful queen, y/n.”

Even though you want to wrap your arms around her, you find yourself unable to move. It’s as if you’re watching through the eyes of another as your body moves on its own. “Queen? My love I need no title as long as I am free to stay by your side.” You watch as your arms reach up to move the flower crown to Rhaenyra’s head.

You blink and the scenery shifts. Daemon and Rhaenyra face you, dressed in white and red robes. Red blood is smudged on their foreheads, a cup in their hands as they look at you expectantly. This must be when you were married to them both.

“Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo.” The language feels foreign on your tongue despite the months you had spent learning. Daemon and Rhaenyra’s y/n was definitely unfamiliar with the language.

“Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi.” Daemon finishes.

Before you can kiss your bride and groom, the memory shifts again. “Rhaenyra what’s happening?! Where is my baby?” 

You’re screaming, tears streaming down your face. Rhaenyra is holding back tears, shaking her head. “Y/n, my love, I’m so sorry.” 

“I want to see her, where is she?! Where’s Visenya?!” 

“She didn’t make it,” Daemon says from his position behind you. Your knees buckle beneath you, almost dropping you to the ground. You feel Daemon’s arm loop around you, keeping you up.

The world shifts, and you’re now alone in your shared chambers in the red keep. Your head is pounding, the pain unbearable. Comparing it to a migraine would be an understatement. “I think I need to lie down,” you hear yourself say. As you climb into bed, you notice that you’re wearing the same shift as the day you arrived in this world. 

This time, you open your eyes to see the heart tree in front of you. Something is off though, the leaves are lighter and the sky is dark. You drop your palm from the trunk. “Take care of them for me.” Your head whips around as you hear a voice eerily similar to your own. 

“It’s you,” you breathe. Daemon and Rhaenyra’s y/n is standing behind you, dressed in the shift from the last memory. 

She nods, walking forward to grasp your hands. Her hands are cold to the touch. “I’m sorry for bringing you here, but I could not bear to leave them alone.”

“You brought me here?”

“I never woke up that morning,” she responds. “I know it is selfish of me to pull you from your world to take my place. If you wish to leave, you may. But I beg of you to reconsider.”

You wrap her into a hug, tears pricking your eyes. For the first time, you actually understood her. Her love, her pain, her loss. You want to tell her how much you love Daemon, Rhaenyra, and the kids. Nothing comes out, but you feel as though she can understand you without words. “You’ve given me so much.”

She pulls away from you, wiping your tears. “Thank you.” The wind picks up, blowing leaves between you both. She disappears as they pass. You reach out to ask her to wait, but your hand hits something hard. You’re back in the godswood, hand on the heart tree.

“What did you see?” the witch asks.

“Everything,” you breathe softly. Your hand drifts to your chest, as if you could soothe the pounding of your heart. “I saw everything.” 

“Where is she now? We must return you both.”

You shake your head. “She is gone. She asked me to stay.” 

“You cannot simply take the place of another. You do not belong here.” 

“We are all pieces of ourselves,” you say, throwing the witch’s own words back to her. She sighs, shaking her head. 

“Surely there is something, someone, in your world that you would miss,” she offers. “Are you sure that you would leave all of that behind to stay here?”

You hesitate. As much as you love your family here, you had never considered the possibility that going home was an option. Would you really be able to give up your former life for the family you found here? 

“I don’t have much there,” you answer. “My past is done, and my future is here.”

She nods, “I understand. If you reconsider, return to the godswood. I will be waiting.” 

“Thank you.” 

The witch waves you away. “Return to your dragons, they are looking for you.”

As she waves her hand, the quiet of the godswood is cut short as you hear several people yelling your name. Daemon and Rhaenyra must be looking for you. “I’m here!”

NOTE: Thank you all for being so patient! Happy HOTD Sunday! Y/N has the option to stay or go? What will she do? It looks like she is going to stay.....for now.... Also, there are some ppl who I can’t tag, so if you’re listed and the tag list and not receiving notifications, please check that your settings are on “allow this blog to appear in search results” or message me if I messed up the spelling! ~ Lacie <3

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