#Chamber of Darkness 4 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovesculprit · 3 months ago

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Kinktober Day 4 - Brat Taming with Ryomen Sukuna

contains: nsfw content:(mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (reader giving), v brief breath play, no aftercare, this is consensual but it might seem dubcon at times so i'll say that just in case

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc:- 7.3k (sorry!)

an: if you saw this yesterday, tumblr ate most of it, so this is the proper version with the full 7k

The air was tight in the luxurious chambers, thick with the underlying current of power and danger that came with being near Sukuna. You knew it all too well, and still, today you chose to push the boundaries.

Maybe it was the way his attention had moved onto others, or maybe you just wanted to feel his power focused on you. Either way, your defiance had earned you more than a few sharp looks throughout the day.

He had been so patient at first, watching as you deliberately disobeyed his orders, meeting his gaze with a silent challenge in your eyes. It was a dangerous game, one which you knew would only end one way, but a small part of you relished it, even craved the inevitable punishment that would follow.

Piqued annoyance now danced in his expression as you stood before him in the dark-lit room. The light of the candles danced across his tattooed skin as he leaned back into the cushion, arms over his chest, eyes intent on him-like some sort of predator sizing his prey.

"You have been bold today, haven't you?" Sukuna said, his voice low and almost a purr, but beneath the smoothness lay a warning. Crimson eyes shone with something dark and predatory as he watched you with unsettling intensity.

You didn't move, not as your heart raced in your chest; your eyes still flashed defiance, though it wavered a little under his gaze. Sukuna noticed, of course-he noticed everything.

He laughed darkly, the sound rumbling through the room like distant thunder. "What's the matter? The little concubine thinks she can disobey her king?" His voice was thick with mockery, but beneath it lay an unmistakable edge of menace.

You still wouldn't back down, even as the chill ran down your spine. "I'm not scared of you," you said-the defiance in your voice, a lot stronger than the quiver in your chest.

His smirk only widened, eyes glinting in the low light. "Is that so?" He pushed off from the cushions, standing to his full height in a fluid-almost graceful-movement. Sukuna towered over you, the suffocating presence of his power that made the air around you thick and heavy.

He took a slow, deliberate step toward you, each step echoing in the chamber as he never so much as broke gaze with yours. “You forget your place, little one. And I think it’s about time I remind you exactly who you answer to.”

You swallowed hard but stood your ground, your heart pounding while he drew nearer. He was testing you now, pushing the limits of your defiance, testing how far you would go. But you couldn't halt the quickening of your pulse in anticipation, the thrill coursing through you despite the danger.

Sukuna stopped only a few millimetres away from you, his giant physique casting a shadow over your small frame. He cocked his head as he reached out, crimson eyes shining with dark humour, and brushed one of his hands against your cheek, the touch feather light, deceptive.

"You've been a brat all day," he mused, the soft low tone of his voice a direct contrast to the danger swimming inside him. "And I'm not fond of brats. You know that."

And before he could receive a reaction from you, the other hand shot out, clutching at your chin in a firm grip, making you look up at him. His touch wasn't gentle anymore; it was commanding, dominant, a silent reminder of who was in charge here.

"You really think you can challenge me?" His voice now a dark growl, his eyes narrowing as he watched you struggle to hold his gaze. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, teasing, almost mocking, as he leaned down closer. "You forget who I am, don't you?"

You shivered, but the stubborn fire in your eyes remained, even as his grip tightened slightly, his thumb pressing against your lip until you parted them with a soft gasp; he smirked, clearly amused despite himself.

“I could break you,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous as his lips hovered just above yours. “Make you beg for me. But I can also make you wait… draw it out until you remember who’s in control.”

The heat between your bodies flared and he held you there, so close yet still out of reach. The tension was palpable, a heady mix of desire and fear as the resolve within you started to crumble under the fierce stare that bound you against your will to him.

When he finally moved, it was with brutal precision. Sukuna spun you around, pressing your front to the cool wall of the chamber with ease, one hand tangled in your hair as he pulled your head back slightly. "You wanted my attention, didn't you?" he said, his voice a dangerous whisper in your ear as his hot breath danced across your skin, his hand trailing down your back. “Well, now you have it.”

You gasped, your body arching instinctively into his touch as his hand slid lower, gripping your hips possessively. “Don’t think for a second that you can get away with this behaviour” he growled, his voice a dangerous promise as his fingers dug into your flesh.

Sukuna yanked your hips back against him, his body pressing firmly against yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re going to regret testing me,” he whispered darkly, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His hand slid around to your front, teasing you just enough "Now," he growled huskily, the scent of dominance emanating s he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your neck and nipping the sensitive skin there to set fireworks, something he could so easily do with a mere touch. "Beg me to put you back in your place."

You knew he was playing with you, waiting for you to submit again, but you couldn't help how your body betrayed you-the pooling of heat so low in your stomach as his words fired up something deep inside. Caged in his grip, cornered against the wall, you still couldn’t refrain from pushing once more.

“No.”

“No? Okay.” he chuckled darkly, his tone shifting from playful to deadly serious. “Strip.”

You briefly turned your head and looked at him, unsure and as you hesitated, he added with a wicked smirk, “Do it or I’ll do it for you.”

The thought of him tearing the delicate fabric from your body sent a thrill through you. The weight of his gaze bore down on you, and you felt the pull of his dominance wrapping around you like a shroud. Your heart raced with the thrill of the challenge, but a deeper part of you—a primal instinct—began to ache for his approval.

With a deep breath, you decided to relent, knowing that fighting him any longer would only provoke him further. You turned your back to him and slowly began to slide the silk off your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down your arms. The dress pooled at your feet, baring your skin to him. The cool air brushed against you, sending goosebumps cascading across your body as you stood looking vulnerable before him.

Yet despite that, his eyes never wavered to admire your body, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before but right now he didn’t seem the least bit interested.

You faced him, expecting praise or the usual good girl, but he said nothing. The silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, making your heart race with both anticipation and confusion. Sukuna’s gaze was piercing, roaming over your exposed form, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny igniting something deep within you—a desperate yearning for his approval.

You swallowed hard, the heat pooling in your stomach igniting a mixture of shame and desire. Sukuna was playing with you, aware of your need for his validation, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of submission and rebellion.

“Please,” you whispered, desperate to shift the balance back in your favour, to spark that glimmer of approval in his eyes. “I just wanted—”

“What?” he interrupted, tilting his head slightly, that smirk still firmly in place. “Attention? Affection? Or perhaps you wanted to remind me how unruly you can be?”

The words were both exhilarating and terrifying, as you recognized the game he was playing. Sukuna knew exactly what you craved and was determined to toy with it, twisting your desires into something that left you vulnerable.

“You should know by now,” he continued, leaning closer until you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “My favourite concubine doesn’t act like this.” he whispers as his hand cups your face. “She knows her place—knows how to please me.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the subtle reminder of your position stoking the embers of your longing. You craved his approval, his affection, and each taunt felt like a jagged edge against your pride. But the harder he pushed, the greater the need for his acknowledgment became.

"Look at you, practically begging for it," he teased, his voice low as his fingers brushed over the uncovered skin of you. "But you'll learn, in time, that defiance only leads to disappointment."

With a predatory grace, Sukuna shifted, his gaze never leaving yours as he sat down on the edge of his royal bed, the dark fabric of the covers contrasting sharply against his skin. The way he was sitting-relaxed, yet commanding-sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine.

"Come here," he ordered; it was an order reverberating with a sternness that was impossible to disregard. Your heart racing, you moved closer until the space between you two was charged with tension. "Get over my knee," he said, the corners of his mouth raising into a sly grin. The words were spoken as though this was a test, a test of how well you'd do.

The heat in your cheeks flared as you hesitated, caught between pride and the undeniable desire to submit. But the need for his approval was overwhelming, and as you moved closer, the thrill of obedience battled against your rebellious spirit.

Sukuna’s gaze held you captive, eyes glimmering with amusement as he patted his knee, the gesture both inviting and authoritative. “I won't ask twice," he warned, his voice low and full of promise.

You swallowed hard as you took a deep breath and realised it was your call. You leaned over reluctantly, laying across his lap and positioning yourself, your hands resting on the coolness of the sheets-a sharp contrast to the heat emitting from your body.

“There we go” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he rested a hand on your back, keeping you in place.

As you settled over him, a rush of vulnerability coursed through you, yet beneath it lay a profound sense of longing for his approval, making it impossible to feel anything but exhilarated. In that moment, you knew there would be no escaping the power he held over you/

His hand travelled further up your thigh, fingers teasingly close to your ass but never quite crossing that line. It was an intentionally deliberate choice, placing you on edge, and you could feel that anticipation, coiling in your belly like a spring, ready to burst.

"Remember," he warned, his voice dropping to that low growl again, "Just because I'm kinder to you than the rest does not mean I won't punish disobedience." You swallowed hard as your heart began to pound with what was to come. You could feel the power dynamic shifting, the game the two of you were playing getting heavier with every passing second.

Sukuna's hand came down sharp against your ass, the loud smack reverberating through the room and slapping you back into reality. A gasp escaped your lips, half in surprise, half in delight at the sting that suddenly fired into your skin. It was a delicious concoction of pain and pleasure, which left you short of breath as you adjusted to the sensations that swirled around you.

"Count," he instructed, his voice firm, yet laced with underlying humour. "Loudly. I want to hear you."

"One," you exhaled the word as it tumbled from your lips, your heart racing wildly as you fought to steady it. The thrill of it all, mixed with your need for his approval, had you wanting each strike more than the last.

Sukuna's hand lingered on the curve of your ass for a moment before falling again in a sharp slap, the sound echoing off stone walls. You gasped again, a mixture of shock and thrill racing through you as the sting blossomed into a warm ache.

“Two,” you gasped, as you fought against the swell of emotions within you.

He lifted his hand, but this time he held back just before the strike, making you tense in anticipation. The sudden hesitation had you bracing for impact, but then he only gently smoothed his palm flat against your skin, teasing you with his warmth.

But before you could even acknowledge it, a sudden one came down on your other ass cheek.

“Three,” you managed to say, voice trembling slightly, the sensation catching you off guard as he switched up the rhythm.

“Good,” he replied, and the next strike came almost immediately after, catching you off guard. “Four!” you exclaimed, the sound of his hand meeting your skin sending shockwaves through your body.

He continued this pattern, alternating between sharp slaps and moments of tension where he would simply tease you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Sometimes, he would deliver a strike that felt harder than the last, and other times he’d pull back, letting you feel only the ghost of his hand as your body quivered in anticipation.

You felt yourself teetering on the brink of overwhelming sensations as you counted up to ten, each strike igniting a fiery mixture of pleasure and pain that coursed through your body. Each impact left you breathless, the rhythm of his hand striking you creating a melody of desire that echoed in your mind.

“Eleven” you finally gasped, the word escaping your lips as you savoured the ache that lingered in your skin.

Sukuna paused, letting the silence stretch between you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back, assessing and possessive. The air was thick with tension, and you could sense the power dynamics shifting once more.

“Are you sorry?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, sending a thrill down your spine.

You bit your lip, a mix of defiance and longing swirling within you as you processed his question. The sharp sting of his earlier strikes still pulsed against your skin. The heat emanating from your skin, a reminder of your rebelliousness, yet the way he held you—firm, possessive—made your heart race with exhilaration.

“Sorry?” you repeated, tilting your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. You could see the smirk playing on his lips, the amusement dancing in his eyes. The challenge was palpable; he wanted you to say it, to acknowledge your submission in a way that would give him satisfaction. Yet all that came out of your mouth was…

“I don’t know yet-”

“Do you even know what you want?” he pressed, his voice smooth and taunting. “Because I can give you everything, but you seem intent on making this harder for yourself.”

“Do you want my approval?” he asked, his voice a sultry caress that made your heart race. The question hung between you, laden with implications that sent a shiver down your spine. “You know I could give it to you if you just admit what you truly want.”

As if sensing the conflict within you, he slowly guided you off his lap, the absence of his warmth leaving you yearning for more. You hesitated for a moment, caught in the limbo of desire and pride, before he leaned back slightly, a glimmer of challenge in his gaze. “Get on your knees,” he commanded, the authority in his voice making it impossible to resist.

The command was a double-edged sword, igniting a rush of eagerness and vulnerability in your chest. There was something intoxicating about being at his mercy, and even as the thought of submission sent pangs of uncertainty through you, the need for his love and approval surged stronger than your pride.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze heavy on you as you knelt before him, the coolness of the floor contrasting sharply with the warmth that enveloped your body. Sukuna watched you, a predator sizing up his prey, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny as you knelt there, heart racing and breath shallow.

“Good girl” he praised, the words wrapping around you like silk, soothing yet igniting a fire in your core. “This is where you belong—submissive, yearning for my affection.” His voice was low and sultry, and you could hear the satisfaction lacing his tone as he took in your posture, his eyes gleaming with approval. “But you have to earn it. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitated, the vulnerability of your position mingling with your desire to please him. “I want… I want your approval,” you murmured, the admission spilling from your lips almost involuntarily. “Your love”

His smirk widened, revealing a hint of satisfaction that made your heart flutter. “And how do you plan to earn it?” he asked, his voice smooth and seductive, coaxing you into deeper submission. “Show me how desperate you really are for my love.”

With deliberate slowness, he shrugged off his robe, letting the luxurious fabric cascade down his broad shoulders and pool around his waist. The movement revealed the powerful contours of his body, muscles coiling under his skin, each movement exuding confidence and dominance. You couldn’t help but feel your breath hitch in your throat as you drank in the sight of him—strikingly captivating and impossibly alluring. His cock sprung free, dauntingly big, thick and girthy with a prominent vein running along the underside of it.

As you positioned yourself at his feet, your heart raced with anticipation. You looked up at him, and in that moment, you could see the mixture of dominance and desire reflected in his gaze. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, and the thought of it sent a shiver of excitement coursing through you.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “show me just how much you crave my approval.” The challenge ignited something deep within you, urging you to submit fully to his will.

You reached forward, taking his cock in your hand at first, feeling the heat radiate from it as your fingers wrapped around his length. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, awakening every nerve ending and amplifying the intensity of your need. You could feel his gaze boring into you, an intoxicating mix of desire and power, and the weight of it only fueled your eagerness.

Sukuna watched you intently, his expression a mixture of approval and amusement as you began to stroke him slowly.

You leaned in closer, your breath hitching as you pressed soft kisses along his shaft, savouring the taste of his skin and the intoxicating musk that enveloped you. With each kiss, you felt a thrill of exhilaration at your submission, and the thought of earning his approval made you more eager to please.

“Keep going,” he encouraged, his voice low and demanding.

You could hear the satisfaction in his tone, and it spurred you on as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him with fervent devotion. Every now and then you’d pull back and focus on the tip, only to resume taking his cock in as deep as you could, using your hand for what you couldn’t fit. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you—his dominance and your willingness to submit completely to him.

As you continued, you could feel his hand find its way to your hair, fingers tangling in it as he guided your movements, controlling the pace with a delicious authority. The mix of his control and your surrender sent waves of heat pooling in your core, and you could feel the ache of longing building within you.

The warmth of his body radiated against your skin, intensifying the sensations coursing through you as you leaned in further, taking him deeper. Each careful stroke of your tongue was met with a soft, approving grunt from Sukuna, his fingers tightening in your hair, guiding you with just the right amount of pressure. You revelled in the way he took charge, the way he made you feel both desired and utterly submissive.

“Such a good little pet,” he praised, his voice smooth yet commanding, sending tremors of excitement through you. “You’re desperate for my touch, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t deny it, the words igniting something primal within you, and you nodded as best you could with him filling your mouth. The mixture of your eagerness and his control heightened the stakes, pushing you to give him everything you had.

His hips shifted slightly, guiding your rhythm as he pressed deeper, the sensation making your head spin. You could feel the tension building within you, a mix of longing and excitement as you became more attuned to his desires. The slick warmth of your mouth enveloped him, and each movement you made was deliberate, an offering of your devotion.

“More,” he demanded, his voice thick with pleasure as he tilted his head back slightly. “I want to hear you.”

You moaned softly around him, the sound vibrating against his skin, eliciting another low growl from deep within him. The noise made your core throb with need, the desperate ache for him only growing stronger as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your actions.

He couldn’t help but want to set the pace himself, the next time you went to pull back, he guided your head further, forcing you to take him deeper until your nose was pressed up against his pubes. You sputtered, unable to stop yourself from gagging as he held you there for a moment before pulling back and letting you pull off and catch your breath. You coughed a little, a string of saliva connecting from his cock to your lips.

His hand tightened in your hair, gently pulling your head up for a moment so he could meet your gaze. “Look at me,” he commanded, his eyes darkened with lust and satisfaction. “I want to see your pretty eyes.”

As you surrendered fully to him, the heat pooling in your core became unbearable, a delicious reminder of just how much you craved his approval. The world outside faded further, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you—his power and your submission—and you knew that you would do anything to keep that connection alive.

You gazed up at him, his commanding presence making your heart race. As you took him deeper, this time by your own choice, a rush of exhilaration surged through you, and with a playful impulse, you let your teeth graze lightly against his length. The sensation was meant to tease, to elicit a reaction, but the moment you did, a sharp intake of breath escaped him, followed by a sudden yank of your hair that pulled you away.

Sukuna’s eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and warning, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours like a steel trap. “What did I say about behaving?” His voice was low, tinged with authority, but there was an unmistakable edge of desire laced within it. You felt a thrill race through you, the tension in the air thickening.

You looked up at him, trying to read the storm brewing in his eyes. His grip on your hair was firm yet controlled, a reminder of the power he wielded over you. The sharpness of his warning sent a jolt through you, igniting a mix of fear and excitement.

“I... I’m sorry,” you stammered, your breath shaky as you tried to regain your composure. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Do that once more and I won’t touch you again, I’ll give you to one of my men. Do you want that?”

The weight of his words settled heavily in the air, a reminder of the stakes involved. You could feel the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but it was quickly replaced by a deep-seated need for his approval. The thought of disappointing him was far more terrifying than the idea of punishment.

“Now,” he said, releasing his hold on your hair but still leaning forward, his presence overwhelming, “Show me that you can be the good girl I know you can be.” There was an edge to his tone that made your stomach flip, a challenge wrapped in a promise.

Nodding slightly, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the delicate balance you had to maintain. You could do this. You could earn his affection and approval. You leaned in closer once more, eyes locked onto his, feeling the pulse of desire thrumming between you.

With renewed determination, you took him back into your mouth, moving slowly at first, allowing your tongue to swirl around him in languid strokes. You could feel the tension in the air, the silent understanding that every movement you made was a testament to your willingness to submit completely to him. You focused on doing it right, savouring the way his body reacted, the way his breath hitched as you worked your mouth around him.

You couldn’t help but grin slightly as you ran your tongue along his shaft.

“You think this is funny?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lips with a possessive touch. “You think you’re in control here?” The amusement in his voice was gone, replaced with a low, simmering intensity that made your pulse quicken.

Before you could respond, Sukuna yanked you up, pulling you to your feet with a force that left your heart racing. He spun you around again, pressing your back against the wall, his chest flush against your front as his hands roamed over your body. The roughness of his touch sent shivers down your spine, your skin tingling with the mix of pleasure and dominance that radiated from him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on to that defiance,” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the full weight of his cock pressing against your stomach. “You’ll break eventually. You always do.”

Your body responded instinctively to his dominance as you clenched your thighs together. Sukuna was testing your limits, pushing you to the brink of submission, and you knew that the game you had started was far from over. The tension between you crackled like electricity, the air thick with the promise of what was to come.

He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand as his other hand travelled down your body, his touch rough and demanding. His smirk widening as he saw the way your chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, your defiance crumbling under the weight of his dominance.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice thick with lust and dominance. "To be at my mercy? To feel my power over you?"

You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with desire as Sukuna’s fingers danced over across your breasts, playfully rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them slightly, teasing you but never giving you the satisfaction you craved. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him, the control he held over you absolute.

"You don’t get to decide when I reward you," he grumbled, "I do."

Sukuna’s hand tightened around your wrists, his grip firm but not painful as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me who you belong to," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, filled with an authority that made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, your defiance wavering under the weight of his dominance. "You," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. "I belong to you."

Sukuna’s lips crashed down on yours, the kiss rough and demanding, filled with the intensity of his dominance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, pulling a moan from your throat as he claimed your mouth with brutal precision. His hands explored your curves, gripping your hips, your thighs, your ass that was still sore, as if he was staking his claim on every inch of you.

With each deliberate breath, you steadied yourself, your heart racing as you mentally prepared for the brutal onslaught of his strength. You knew what was coming—the way he would thrust into you with a force that left you gasping, the raw power behind every movement. The pleasure and pain that would mingle into a heady mixture, overwhelming your senses until there was nothing left but him.

The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body aching for the release you knew only Sukuna could give. His fingers trailed down your back, a possessive touch that claimed you inch by inch, as if reminding you that you were his to do with as he pleased.

And then, without warning or any preparation he thrust into you with a brutal force that knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands clung to his shoulders, struggling to maintain your balance as Sukuna’s body slammed into yours, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the chamber.

You were thankful that seeing him like this had you already soaked, else that stretch would’ve been a lot more painful with his size.

He didn’t hold back. Each thrust was powerful, relentless, his hips driving into yours with a ferocity that left you gasping. The intensity of it was overwhelming, his movements claiming you completely, pushing you past the point of pleasure and into a realm where pain and ecstasy became one.

Your body rocked against the wall, your breath coming in ragged, desperate pants as Sukuna’s pace only quickened. The sheer force of his movements left you clinging to the stone for support, your legs trembling with the effort of keeping yourself upright. He hooked a hand under your leg as he lifted you up slightly to get a better angle, your walls clenching around his cock every time he drove it in.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Already falling apart."

His hand tightened on your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the side of your neck. "You’re my favourite," he hissed, his breath hot against your skin. "So don’t give me reason to neglect you."

Every punishing thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, building higher and higher until it was almost too much to bear. The heat between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect, brutal sync, the rhythm of your connection raw and primal.

"You feel that?" Sukuna’s voice was a low, dangerous growl in your ear as he brought his other hand to your belly, his hand over the bulge he was causing. "You will never feel this anywhere else.”

He drove into you with even greater force, his body demanding your submission with every movement. And as the pleasure built to a fever pitch inside you, your mind blanked, consumed by the sheer intensity of what he was doing to you.

Sukuna’s thrusts became more brutal, more relentless with each passing second. The intensity of his movements left you breathless, your body barely able to keep up with the raw, savage force of him. The cold stone of the wall pressed against your back, and his hand on your leg, the only thing holding you upright as Sukuna claimed you with an aggression that sent shivers through your entire being.

His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, pulling you into him with every movement, demanding your full surrender. The overwhelming pleasure mingled with a burning ache that left you trembling, each sensation more intense than the one before.

"Is this what you wanted?" Sukuna growled, his voice thick with both anger and lust. "You wanted to test me? Thought you could defy me, hmm?"

His tone was sharp, laced with danger, and each word only made your pulse race faster. You could feel the fury in his movements, the way he drove into you with a punishing rhythm that left you gasping for air. Your mind spun, the pleasure so overwhelming it was hard to think straight, but through the haze of sensation, you realised the truth: you’d pushed him too far.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of his body slamming into yours. "I'm sorry, Sukuna… I didn’t mean—"

Before you could finish, he thrust into you harder, his hand yanking your hair back so that your head snapped up, forcing you to meet his eyes as he leaned over you. His gaze burned with fury and satisfaction, and the sight of it made your stomach flip.

"Oh, you’re sorry now, are you?" he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. "Begging for forgiveness already? Pathetic."

His hips slammed into yours again, the brutal pace leaving you reeling, the sheer force of his movements pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You cried out, your fingers digging into the stone wall as you tried to brace yourself against the onslaught of pleasure and pain.

"Please," you gasped, your voice trembling as his relentless thrusts made it hard to speak. "I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to—"

But Sukuna wasn’t interested in your apologies. If anything, your desperate pleas only seemed to drive him further, his pace quickening, the heat between you growing unbearable. His hand snaked around your throat, gripping it just tightly enough to make you aware of his control, his dominance over you absolute.

"You think I care about your sorry little words?" Sukuna growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think an apology is going to stop me now?"

His grip on your neck tightened just enough to make your breath hitch, and you could feel your body responding, the ache between your legs growing more intense with every punishing thrust. His pace was faster now, the rhythm of his hips brutal, leaving you no time to catch your breath as he took you harder, faster.

Your body was on fire, each thrust pushing you further into a dizzying spiral of pleasure that made it impossible to think of anything but him. Every time you tried to form words, they were swallowed by gasps and cries of pleasure, your mind barely able to keep up with the sheer intensity of what Sukuna was doing to you.

"I’m sorry," you whimpered again, your voice breaking as he pounded into you, the force of his movements overwhelming every sense. "I… I won’t disobey again… I promise…"

Sukuna’s hand moved from your throat to your waist, pulling you back into him with a bruising grip as he sped up even more, the wet sound of your bodies crashing together filling the air. His breathing was ragged now, and you could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way his body enveloped you, completely dominating you.

"Is that so?" he snarled, his voice thick with satisfaction as he drove into you harder. "You’re sorry now… but it’s too late for that."

His hips slammed into yours with a ferocity that made your legs shake, your entire body trembling as he took you mercilessly. You could barely keep yourself upright, every muscle in your body tensing with the effort of staying grounded under the relentless onslaught of his thrusts, your pussy welcoming him in with every movement of his cock, it was embarrassing how much your body betrayed you.

"I’ll make sure you remember this," he growled, his breath hot against your skin as his pace became almost punishing. "Next time you think about disobeying me, you’ll remember exactly what happens."

Sukuna's grip tightened as he drove into you with merciless abandon, his pace unrelenting as your body quaked beneath him. The overwhelming sensation was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your muscles tensing in anticipation of release. But just as you felt that familiar surge of pleasure coil tighter, ready to snap, Sukuna suddenly pulled back, leaving you teetering on the brink, your pussy clenching around nothing at the loss.

Your breath hitched, a desperate whimper escaping your lips as the pleasure was ripped away from you. He slowed his movements, rolling his hips with an agonisingly deliberate pace, teasing you with just enough sensation to keep you trembling but never enough to send you over.

"S-Sukuna," you gasped, your voice trembling with need, your body aching for the release that had been so cruelly denied. "Please... please, I—"

He cut you off with a low, mocking laugh, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you still, his chest pressed against your back. The heat of his body was suffocating, his presence overwhelming as he leaned down to speak directly into your ear.

"You really think you deserve to come after all that?" he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "After the way you acted? You don’t get to have what you want."

You whimpered again, your body trembling with frustration as Sukuna slowed his thrusts to a maddening crawl, each movement deliberate, calculated to keep you on edge without ever granting you the release you so desperately craved.

His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, spreading you wider as he pushed his cock deeper inside, filling you completely with slow, torturous strokes. Your breath came in shallow gasps, every nerve in your body strung tight with anticipation, but no matter how hard you tried to chase that elusive climax, Sukuna remained in control.

"I’m the one who decides when you get to come," he growled, his voice dark and commanding. "And you haven’t earned it today."

He increased the pace only slightly, enough to send another wave of pleasure through you, but still holding you just at the edge of satisfaction. You could feel him nearing his own release, his breathing becoming heavier, his thrusts more forceful, but even as his body tensed with his impending climax, he refused to let you finish.

"Look at you," he mocked, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Begging for something you’re not even worthy of."

Sukuna’s rhythm grew faster, his hips snapping into you with an intensity that sent you reeling. The heat between your bodies built to a fever pitch, his ragged breaths mingling with your gasps as you clung to the edge of control. You could feel yourself spiralling toward the brink of release, your entire body tensing, desperate to fall over that edge. But just as the pleasure began to crest, Sukuna let out a low, guttural growl, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his peak.

With one last deep thrust, he groaned, his body stilling as he spilled into you, his grip on your hips tightening with possessive force. His cum shot out, thick streams of white painting your walls, a neverending load it felt like with how prolonged it was. His breath came in hot, uneven pants against your skin, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his climax. You could feel the heat of him inside you, the weight of his release, but the moment your own release seemed within reach, Sukuna stopped moving completely.

You whimpered, the need still burning fiercely in your core, your body quaking with the intensity of being left teetering on the edge. You tried to grind against him, desperate for that final push, but his hands clamped down on your hips, holding you in place. The realisation hit you hard — he really wasn’t going to let you finish.

"Sukuna... please," you gasped, your voice strained, body trembling with unfulfilled need. "I-I need to—"

He chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look down at you, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, you thought I’d change my mind?" His voice was thick with amusement, utterly unapologetic. "Not this time."

You moaned in frustration, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of his rough pace, the pleasure so close yet just out of reach. Sukuna’s grip on your hips remained firm as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

"You're lucky I let you have this much," he growled, the tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Maybe next time you’ll think twice before misbehaving."

He pulled out slowly, his absence leaving you feeling unbearably empty, your body still throbbing with unsatisfied need. He watched you squirm beneath him, clearly revelling in your frustration, a twisted smile playing on his lips.

Sukuna’s dark chuckle echoed in the room as he loomed over you, watching the frustration play across your features. You could feel your body trembling with the intensity of everything left unresolved, a quiet whine escaping your throat as you tried, one last time, to reach for him. But before you could make any move, he shifted, his hand coming to rest atop your head.

The touch was shockingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness you’d just endured, as he stroked your hair almost… fondly. You glanced up at him, confusion flickering across your face, but Sukuna’s expression was one of twisted amusement.

"Don’t pout," he murmured, still smirking as he patted your head in that condescending way. "I’m not so heartless as to leave you completely unsatisfied." His voice dripped with mockery, but there was an underlying promise there—something dark and teasing.

You bit your lip, your heart still racing, unsure what he meant. Did he intend to give you an orgasm after all? Yet instead of returning his hands to your body, he let them slide away, leaving you even more bewildered.

With a casual shrug, Sukuna stood, towering over you, clearly savouring the sight of your needy, trembling form sprawled before him. As he moved toward the door, you caught his last remark.

"I’ll let you sleep in my chambers tonight," he tossed over his shoulder, his tone almost dismissive. "Consider that a kindness."

His words hung in the air, thick with his typical arrogance. Sleeping in his chambers meant you’d be close, within reach of him, and perhaps he’d allow more later. But it also meant the control still belonged to him, and you would have to wait, to endure.

He looked back at you once more, that cruel, satisfied grin still etched on his face. "See? I’m not entirely heartless," he teased, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving you to gather yourself, the heat of your desire still thrumming in your veins. His presence lingered even after he was gone, the promise of what might come next hanging over you like a heavy, tantalising shadow.

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scarlet-star-witch · 7 months ago

Text

The moon and his sun (Part III)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 10.1 K

Warnings: Whole lotta smut in the beginning, secret relationship, Aegon being an ass

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

The two of them quickly became insatiable.

Aemond soon forgot what his life was like before he had tasted her, before he had heard the sweet sounds of her pleasure, before he had felt the velvet perfection of her walls hugging his cock.

He had thought he had bewitched him as children, but now, he knew he was truly under her spell.

He spent every waking moment finding excuses to find her in any dark corner he could, spending every spare moment reveling in the bliss her open arms provided.

Their afternoons together in the library were now spent with her bent over the table, his punishing hips leaving him to cover her mouth with his hand, his head buried in her shoulder to smother his own noises of ecstasy as they succumbed to their pleasure.

Every feast was cut short as they slithered away from the prying eyes of the crowd, ending up in the secret halls to find solitude, her legs wrapped around his lithe waist as he pressed her against the hard stone wall behind her, her moans flowing freely as he fucked her hard.

He was completely uninhibited, his own groans of pleasure filling the space, her name tumbling from his lips, his head spinning as he thrust inside her with an urgency unknown to him. He never thought he’d be this unhinged, this crazed, but it was what she did to him.

He watched eagerly, as her eyes rolled back, her lips parted with each of her beautiful noises of bliss. He couldn’t believe that he was the one to do this to her. He watched, his eye wide with wonder as he brought her to a leg-shaking peak, his name yelled out into the empty halls, like she couldn't get enough.

He couldn't believe he was lucky enough to be with her like this, to hold her and touch her until she cried in the most beautiful way possible.

He never wanted to stop, he never wanted his time with her to end.

He was eager to take whatever time with her he could.

His hours of training were cut short when he spotted her on the balcony, the sight of her playful smirk all he needed to be swayed, practically tossing his sword down as he gave Ser Criston a flimsy excuse before leaving abruptly.

She’d be waiting for him in his chambers, the laces of her corset already undone. It would take little effort to rip the rest away.

He learned to savor her, despite the fire that raged through him every time he touched her soft skin, he learned he loved taking his time with her. He loved to bury his face between her thighs, tasting her sweet nectar, feeling her writhe under him, her lovely cries echoing through his room as he brought her to climax over and over again.

He loved the way her fingers tangled and pulled at his hair, he loved watching her back arch off his sheets, how her breasts heaved with each of her panting breaths and whining cries.

But most of all, he loved when she moaned his name.

Whether it was with his fingers, his tongue, or his hard cock that pounded into her relentlessly, he would do whatever it took to make her scream his name.

But his love was an explorer, it was in her nature.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when she flipped the script on him.

He had just brought her to a third, leg-quivering peak with his tongue, when her moans turned to laughs, the mischief twinkling in her eyes, stirring his desire even further, his cock so hard he was practically throbbing under her gaze.

She flipped him to his back as if he weighed nothing. He had watched, entranced by the goddess in his bed as she climbed atop him. He let out a loud, keening cry as she sank down on him.

She wasted no time, not one to deny her darling Aemond his pleasure, as she grinded against him rhythmically, her head falling back to her shoulders, her panting breaths growing louder as she rode him with fervor.

Though it was no match for the noises coming from her lover below her.

She had never taken control like this and it was driving him insane. His hands clutched to her hips desperately, his eye glassy as he watched her divine body atop him, her hips moving with a fierceness that left him breathless.

Each slam of her hips against his choked a cry out of him, sounding more desperate with each brutal thrust of her punishing yet perfect hips.

He had never experienced anything like it before.

It was easy to lose control with her. Only a few moments later, his body stiffened, his head thrown back onto the pillow below him, a loud cry of ecstasy escaping him as his back arched, his body writhing beneath her.

She laughed in delight, pride coursing through her at the pleasure she was able to pull from a dragon, a god amongst men.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- fuck.” He panted, throwing his arm over his eyes as he fought to catch his breath, his pulse pounding in his ears, stars bursting behind his closed eye.

She giggled and leaned down, beginning to plant kisses across his heaving chest.

“We’re doing that again.” She crooned, making him groan, both in delight and agony.

“I’ll need a minute before I can feel my legs.” He laughed.

Neither one of them could fathom the bliss they found together.

They couldn’t get enough.

A loud rumble of thunder woke her one morning, a soft moan sounding as she stretched, a smile coming to her lips as she felt a blissful ache between her legs. Her face twisted with sleepy confusion as her foot nudged against something solid under her sheets and she soon became aware of the arm that lay over her waist.

She looked over her shoulder, both delight and fear coming to her in an instant.

While she was beyond happy to wake up beside her love, to have been wrapped in his arms the entire night, they were playing a dangerous game and they couldn’t give the maids any reason to spread gossip.

“Aemond.” She groaned tiredly, pushing at his shoulder to wake him.

He let out a low noise of discontent as he was woken from his sleep. His arm tightened around her and he nuzzled in closer to her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, placing sweet kisses that made her insides flutter.

“You weren’t supposed to stay the night.”

He would hold her as she fell into her slumber, but was always cautious enough to leave while it was still dark, ending up in his own bed before the sun rose and the members of the Keep woke.

“I couldn’t help it.” He spoke, his voice raspy with sleep, stirring desire within her. “You looked so beautiful while you slept, I couldn’t bear to leave your side.”

She rolled her eyes as a soft laugh escaped her.

“You’re still such a charmer.”

“Only for you, my love.” He crooned and titled her chin towards him so he could kiss her properly.

They both quickly lost themselves to their desires. No care was given to the fact that others would be awakening, that an entire world existed outside the bed, an outside world that could destroy them.

None of it seemed to matter to them.

Aemond had kissed her until they were breathless then turned her onto her stomach and hauled her to her hands and knees. Their shared moans as he sank into her were loud, much louder than he would’ve been comfortable with this time of day if had any sense left to give.

His hips moved with precision, thrusting his cock inside her with growing need, as if it wasn’t enough, as if he needed to be closer to her still. Even inside her, it wasn’t enough.

He gripped her hips tightly, his eyes shut tightly as the pleasure overtook him. His panting breaths grew louder, his desire growing with each passing second, every one of her whining moans and pleas lighting his body with a fire that was becoming all too familiar with her.

He growled as she bounced her hips back onto him, his blunt nails scratching at her skin, his jaw falling slack with a loud moan, their morning love making quickly turning into something much more animalistic and desperate than either had intended.

It was so unlike what their usual early morning rendezvous were. There were no quiet, shared kisses or gentle wandering hands that carressed and worshiped every inch of each other.

“Aemond!” She cried out, her head dropping between her arms, her voice growing raspy as her cries became louder, only encouraging his flaming lust.

He grunted and quickened his pace, the headboard beginning to slam against the wall behind the bed, his moans becoming louder, suddenly thankful for the raging storm outside that provided cover for their noise.

“That’s it, love, just like that.” He growled, his resolve slipping from him faster than he could recognize.

Her moans became louder, sending goosebumps across his skin.

“Come for me, my love.”

His growled words were all she needed to bring her close to her end. With only a few swipes of his fingers against his clit, his expert hands knowing exactly how to play her, like a musician with their treasured instrument, she was helpless against his touch.

She shuddered under him, a cry of his name ripped from her throat as he brought her to her peak. Her sweet sounding whines echoed throughout the room.

Aemond grit his teeth, the tightening around his cock forcing him to lose all sense of control. He pounded into her relentlessly, cursing and grunting as he fucked her like an animal, as if she wasn’t the most precious thing to him.

A string of Valyrian left him, cursing the power her body held over his own and praying to never lose her devotion all at once. A loud shout left him as he came, his body tingling with ecstasy as he practically collapsed against her, his limbs left feeling weak, his entire body spent, his mind spinning.

“Fuck.” He whispered breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “You are perfection, issa prūmia.”

They were both trembling and aching, reeling with bliss, pleasure ringing in their ears.

“You should go before my maids come.” She said, her voice still breathless and raspy from the cries he had pulled from her.

“One more minute.” He mumbled, moving with a groan to lay beside her and quickly gathering her into his arms.

He kissed the top of her head, letting his eye fall closed, taking in the peaceful final moments he would get with her until the cover of night.

They both found it difficult to hide what was between them. The smiles they shared as they passed each other would be subject to scrutiny now that they were no longer children. The time they spent together, while not unusual, was looked at with a cautious lens, the Lords and Ladies of the court whispering about their closeness.

It was hell to pretend they were still nothing more than childhood friends.

The days spent in the garden, surrounded by curious eyes looking for gossip were torture for them both. Aemond longed to reach out to her, to brush the hair from her face the wind would carry. He longed to take her hand in his, he longed to sit closer, to feel her body against his. He longed to kiss her after each sweet nothing she cheekily dared to whisper in the broad daylight.

But they would never risk what they had.

Though there was nothing they could do about the rumors that spread about the way they looked at each other.

There was nothing they could do about the love that lingered in their gazes towards each other.

Whispers of an impending betrothal were all the court could talk about. Even with the fierce scowls Aemond sent to the groups of whispering Ladies, it did little to stop the incessant gossiping.

It soon reached the ears of the Master of Coin. The Lord of Ixtal hadn’t exactly been shocked when he heard the rumors, he was only confused as to why his own daughter hadn’t disclosed anything to him.

He knew about her friendship with Aemond, but she had never told him of any deeper feelings. He sought her out one night after dinner with the King.

He was making his way to his daughter’s chambers when he caught sight of her roaming the halls just a few turns from her room.

“Darling?” He called out to her, causing her to stop in her tracks, a brief look of horrified shock crossing her features before she quickly schooled her expression. “Where are you headed to at this hour?”

She panicked internally for a brief moment, as if her father could know with one mere look at her that she was headed to find her secret lover to do things their Septa’s from years past would have lashed them for.

“I was going to say goodnight to Helaena’s twins. I promised I would read them a bedtime story.” The lie fell from her tongue too easily, her stomach twisting with nerves as her father eyed her carefully, as if catching onto her lie.

He nodded slowly and she had to force herself not to breathe out dramatically in relief that her cover story had been solid enough.

“Why don’t we break our fast together tomorrow? I feel as though I’ve scarcely seen you as of late.”

She nodded eagerly, desperate to be out from under his gaze, no matter how innocent it was. The guilt she felt along with the enormous secret she harbored was enough to drive her to insanity.

“I’ll see tomorrow, Darling.”

“Goodnight.” She spoke swiftly, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek and sidestepping him, continuing on her path down the hall, taking a sharp left towards Helaena’s chambers instead of the right turn that would’ve taken her to the library where Aemond was waiting for her.

She entered the Princess’ chambers, giving her friend a warm smile.

“Hello.” Helaena greeted her happily. “I wasn’t expecting you here tonight.”

She shrugged, attempting to not let her anxieties show.

“I haven’t seen you much today. I thought I should stop in to say goodnight.” She took a seat next to her friend, smiling softly at the children at her feet playing with their toys.

“Was Aemond not available?”

She blanched, Helaena’s blunt words striking fear within her like an arrow. Her wide eyed stare met her friend’s unwaveringly calm smile.

“We- Aemond and I-”

“You make him happy.” Helaena spoke warmly, her attention moving back to the embroidery in her hands, as if she hadn’t just shaken her friend to her core. “I’m glad he found you before it was too late.”

She gaped at the Princess. It wasn’t unusual for Helaena to speak things that made little sense to others or things so mysterious it left a chill down your spine, but this was something else entirely.

She cleared her throat and turned her attention to the twins, asking if they would like to hear a bedtime story. She could at least follow through with her lie to her father. She spent the next twenty minutes corralling the quiet children to their beds, her heart bursting with love as they watched her eagerly, hanging onto her every word as she told them tales of her home, of the beautiful animals that lived in the jungles of Ixtal.

She pictured herself, sometime in the future, telling tales to her own children who had heads of silver hair just as their father did. The thought made her heart leap excitedly.

Once the children were tucked into bed, fully satisfied with her many stories, she felt Helaena’s hand on her shoulder, a touched twinkle in her eyes.

“He’ll be waiting for you.”

The Princess’ whispered words said much more than anyone else could comprehend. Her insinuated approval, that she knew just how much her brother meant to her, had a weight leaving her shoulders she didn’t even know had been holding her down.

No matter what Helaena knew of what she had with Aemond, she approved and that was all that mattered.

With a parting kiss to Helaena’s cheek, she left her chambers, heading back to her own, wondering what she’d tell Aemond of his sister’s strange words.

She stepped into her chambers, her heart jumping at the sight of a figure by her window. She placed a hand over her chest, whispering a quiet curse as she quickly recognized the silver hair that gleamed in the moonlight.

“Gods, don’t do that. You scared me.” She spoke quietly, looking behind her to ensure the door was closed behind her.

Aemond was stepping towards her in an instant, his face hardened slightly.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

She let out a long breath, holding onto his arms that wound around her waist.

“I’m fine.”

“You didn’t show, I thought…” He trailed off, his eye alight with uncertainty that made her chest ache.

She reached out, her hand resting at his cheek, the affectionate gesture making his tense body relax. She didn’t understand how after so many years of friendship and weeks of making love he still could have doubts for what her heart longed for.

“I ran into my father.” She explained to him. “I thought he might be suspicious, so I went to Helaena’s room. I didn’t want him to follow me straight to you. God’s if he had caught us-” She stopped abruptly, shivering at the thought.

Aemond blew out a breath, a guise of laughter.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting or to make you worry.”

He just shook his head, looking back at her with reverence, as if he could finally be at ease now he was gazing upon her.

His arms tightened around her, his closeness making her smile, though it was strained. She thought of her father, the awkwardness their interaction held, something that had never existed with him.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Aemond asked, sensing the turmoil within her, looking at her with concern.

“I hate lying to him.”

Aemond sighed, he didn’t exactly have the same reservations about lying to his family like she had, he certainly didn’t have the love and affection for his father that she had with her own, but he saw how it ate away at her.

“I know, my love.”

They both knew they couldn’t risk what they had getting ripped away from them. On a good day, the only thing the King seemed to remember was his first daughter. They couldn’t take a request to him, not while Otto pulled the strings.

Aemond gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly as they both longed for a day where they didn’t have to hide.

In an effort to keep up appearances, they decided to put some distance between them, at least while in public. At the feast for the Queen’s nameday, she didn’t sit next to him or his family, she didn’t dance with him, though that was not a common event now that they were no longer children.

Aemond sat at the head table, a permanent scowl etched on his face.

He watched with barely contained resentment the crowd that had gathered around her and her father. The Lord of Ixtal was too charismatic for his own good. Any Lord and their son that greeted the revered Master of coin soon turned their attention to his beloved daughter, offering well wishes and not so subtle inquiries into her eligibility for marriage.

Aemond couldn’t stand it.

He was powerless to do anything but watch. He noticed the way she would shift uncomfortably in her seat under the compliments bestowed upon her. He wanted nothing more than to march straight to her, take her hand and whisk her away from it all.

Proprietary be damned, he couldn’t take it anymore.

His leg bounced beneath the table, every inch of him portraying how much he hated every part of the celebration. He took a long swig of his wine, wincing slightly at the taste. He thanked the Gods every day that he never achieved his brother’s proclivities for the drink, but he didn’t think he could endure the rest of the night without something to dull his senses.

His eyes fell to her table once more and suddenly sat up straighter when his gaze locked onto hers. The small smile she sent him, the noticeable annoyance on her face that conveyed she hated this just as much as he did, made his lips twitch upwards.

His entire demeanor changed. With just one look at her, the scowl on his face eased, no longer the look of pure dread and contempt.

Though it did not last long.

He surveyed the crowd of dancing couples, an inkling of shame creeping upon him as he thought of how long it had been since he had danced with his love. It had been years, surely. He had outgrown the childish act, but he couldn’t help but long for those nights of innocent twirling, remembering how he had never laughed as hard as when they were hand in hand, spinning around the room like the two care-free children they had been.

The good feeling in his heart crumbled instantly as he noticed her familiar head of hair among the crowd. A strange, clenching feeling unfurled in his stomach as he leaned forward, internally cursing the other couples that were in his line of sight.

As the couples twirled in their practiced steps, she was revealed, hand in hand with Jasper Wylde’s son, locked in an embrace as they danced.

Something within Aemond sparked, a certain kind of rage he hadn’t felt in a long time. His fists clenched, his jaw tightening as his teeth grinded, growing angrier with each second he watched her dance with that fool.

It didn’t matter that she had no beaming smile to give, that there was no affection within her eyes, that she moved stiffly and mechanically. Aemond didn’t seem to notice any of it, all he could comprehend was that his love was in another man’s arms, dancing with him the way he refused to, the way he couldn’t under the prying eyes of the court.

It was the moment the Wylde son leaned in, whispering something in her ear, his lips so close to hers, that he knew he had reached his limit. He had to leave before he made an enemy of the Master of Law by murdering his son.

He stood from his chair and made his way out of the room with a determination that left many to give the feared Prince a wide berth. It wasn’t uncommon to see the one-eyed Prince stomp away in a fury, but it still struck fear into the hearts of those who were in his path.

He made his way into his chambers, his body thrumming with an energy so volatile, so uncomfortable, he contemplated dragging Ser Criston out to the training yard so he could take a few whacks at him to unleash his anger.

He breathed deeply, his hands clenching onto the back of a chair, his head hanging as the blood in his veins sung with the desire to enact violence, to prove to everyone that they couldn’t take what was his, that they shouldn’t dare to try to take his love away from him.

The sound of his door opening had him flinching, quickly turning on his heel, ready to strike at anyone who would be daft enough to disturb him. His shoulders slumped at the sight of her, the knowing look on her face forcing him to release a long breath, his fury brimming to a petty anger he wouldn’t be quick to part ways with.

“What are you doing here?”

She wanted to roll her eyes at his tone. “I saw you storm out.”

“I’m surprised you noticed. You looked rather busy with that Lord leeching off you.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised her night would turn to this. She knew what she was in for the second the man asked her for a dance.

“He asked me to dance in front of his father and mine. I couldn’t very well say no.”

“No?”

“Aemond.” She admonished impatiently. “The entire reason we stayed apart tonight was to quiet the rumors. You know what would happen if I refused to dance with him, what everyone would say.”

“I think you’re giving the court too much credit.”

The words, one she had said to him all those weeks ago, when he was the one worried about appearances, now thrown back at her made her want to grab his arms and shake him until that complicated brain of his rattled around enough to find some sense.

She breathed deeply, forcing herself to stay calm because it was clear the man before her would not be exercising the same caution.

Stepping towards him, she took her hands in his, speaking his name softly when he refused to look at her.

“After all this time, do you truly still not see it?”

His eyes drifted to hers slowly, the gesture almost meek, so unlike the fierce dragon rider she knew him to be. She reached out, taking his face in her hands and leaned forward, placing a kiss to the patch that covered his sapphire eye.

The gesture disarmed him completely, the anger pulled out of him as swiftly as a sword exits the body in a fateful final move.

He let out a shuddering breath, his hands finding their home on her waist. He looked at her, his gaze now sheepish, embarrassed that he had directed his anger towards her, the only one who never deserved it.

“You are the only man I want.” She assured him. “No matter who I dance with, no matter who engages me with petty conversations, they will never be the one who has my heart. I only think of you.”

“There are others you’ve danced with?”

The smirk on his face, the assurance the comment was made without anger and purely to poke at her in a way only he could, made her laugh, the sound making him smile. She pushed at his chest.

“You are insufferable.”

He wrapped his arms around her tighter, keeping her pressed against him as she weakly struggled against his embrace, her laughter constant. Her giggles soon turned to shrieks of delight as he began to press playful kisses down the length of her neck.

He felt healed by the sound, with the feel of her in his arms, right where she should be. She was the only one he could be this way with, she was the only who accepted him as he was.

He leaned into her, ceasing his teasing kisses, the look in his eye more serious as he gazed at her lovingly.

“I don’t think there are enough words in any language to tell you how much I love you.” He told her.

“I know the feeling.”

The admiration, the pure love in her eyes melted him from the inside out. He couldn’t waste another second and crashed his lips to hers, content to never leave the haven that was her kiss for the rest of the night.

He was still amazed by her ability to calm him, to soothe every negative feeling within him, even after all these years.

His time spent with her was his only reprieve from the things in his life he despised.

He had come to her chambers one afternoon, particularly eager, his emotions running high after a gathering with his family. She wasn’t sure if it had been his mother’s incessant ramblings of Rhaenyra’s negligence, his grandsire’s continued lectures about his duty and his need to marry soon, his father’s dismissiveness, or if it were Aegon’s general presence that put him in such a mood, she didn’t have time to ask before he was ravishing her thoroughly.

It was only until their sweat-slicked bodies cooled, their limbs tangled together beneath her disarrayed sheets, her head rested on his chest as his hand ran gently through her hair, did she finally see him relaxed once more.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” She asked suddenly, prompting Aemond to chuckle.

“Was my performance not satisfactory, love? You wish to exile me?”

She laughed and looked up at him pointedly.

“I think it was quite obvious what I thought of your performance.”

The scratches down his back would certainly be proof of her enjoyment.

“I meant leaving King’s Landing, exploring a new part of the world.”

Aemond remained quiet for a moment, contemplating her words. He didn’t know how to respond so he settled for a half-hearted shrug.

“Why do you ask?”

“You seem restrained here.” She answered quietly, worrying she was tiptoeing into dangerous territory. She didn’t want to push him but it killed her to see his light dim in the presence of his family.

Whenever they would pass each other in the halls of the Keep they had loving smiles to share, delighted by the secret they kept from the rest of the them, but whenever she crossed his path while he was with him mother or his grandsire, he didn’t spare her a look, his face drawn tightly with a coldness that, while characteristic around others, was so unfamiliar to her.

Aemond didn’t like to talk about his family, he seemed to always steer the conversation in a different direction whenever she probed and tensed whenever they were brought up, changing the easy nature between them into something more complicated.

He stayed quiet, taking in her words contemplatively, his mind swirling with waves of thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of.

His feelings for his family were complicated. He was devoted to them, he would protect them when it came down to it, but he couldn’t exactly say he was happy with them or felt very loved by them.

“We should live in Ixtal.”

She looked up at him curiously, not having expected those words. He looked down at her, a small smile growing, his arm around her tightening.

“Once we’re married, we’ll abandon the delirious politics here and we’ll move to Ixtal where we’ll grow old and raise our children.”

She smiled, the fantasy he had created sounding more like a dream than any sort of reality they could manage for themselves.

She couldn’t think that far ahead, not when they couldn’t even hold hands in front of others.

“That sounds lovely.” She mused quietly, holding tightly to his words, praying they would one day come true.

“Do not be mad.”

Her first words in greeting immediately had him on edge, the soft expression that had appeared at the sight of her twisting into one of derision in a swift moment. The moment she stepped into the library, a place that had now become an excuse for him to take her between the shelves, he perked up, but the hesitancy on her face had him pausing, suddenly fearing the worst.

“Why would I be mad?”

“I have something to tell you and you have to promise me you will not resort to bloodshed.”

His look of confusion only grew, his nerves rising as he stood from his seat, walking towards her cautiously.

“Bloodshed?” He questioned, his voice becoming darker at the mere notion of a threat against her. “Has someone done something to you?”

She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at his blatant protectiveness and reached out, taking his hand in hers in an effort to calm him.

“You have a tendency to rage before an explanation can be given so you must promise me you won’t draw your sword before I’ve finished my story.”

“My love, you know I can make no promises.”

With a heavy sigh, her hand remaining in his, her fingers gently tracing over his knuckles, as if her soothing touch could sate him while she gave him the news that would undoubtedly spring him into a furious temper.

“Elric Wylde has requested my presence in the gardens. My father told me he wishes to start a courtship.”

The scoff that left his lips made her wince. She had never before heard such derision from a simple sound.

“You are jesting, aren’t you?”

“Aemond-”

“I know there is no possible way you would agree to court someone else.” He continued, his voice laced with jealous disdain.

“Aemond-” She tried again but he continued to rant, pulling his hand from hers, his face now dark with dangerous intent.

“Where is the Wylde Lord? I’ll be sure to set him straight and tear his limbs from his body before he has the chance to put his hands on you again.”

“Stop.” She spoke sternly, grabbing onto his arm before he could leave her side and murder the poor boy who naively thinks he has a chance with her. “I am not going to let him court me.”

“No, you’ll just string him along so he thinks he had a chance.”

“I will meet with him once and then tell my father I don’t wish to continue, putting the matter to rest for good.”

“Tell your father now that you don’t wish to court him.”

“He’ll get suspicious if I keep refusing to meet with eligible Lords. He’ll begin to think I want to become a Septa if I continue to avoid any notion of marriage.”

Aemond’s grave expression didn’t waver. His eyes moved back to the door, as if conjuring ways he could butcher the clueless Wylde son.

“Aemond…” She warned, the look on his face igniting her worry. She knew he would be thinking of anything but helpful suggestions.

“I’ll tell the prick myself. He’ll be sure to understand then.”

She gripped onto his arm tighter, stopping him from taking another step.

“Don’t be daft.” She scolded. “You know the gossip that would ensue if you got involved.”

“You are not meeting with him.” Aemond said sternly to which she just rolled her eyes.

“It will only be for a few minutes. I’ll immediately go to my father to refuse any further advances and we’ll be done with it.”

“Until the next one comes along to vie for your hand.”

“We’ll deal with it when it comes to that, if you haven’t already murdered the entire pool of eligible bachelors.”

Aemond’s brow perked up at the notion. It wasn’t a bad suggestion. She playfully smacked his chest.

“Stop that.”

His jaw clenched, his anger simmering within him. The thought of her arm in arm with another man, the poor fool that would be drooling over her, thinking he had a chance, made him furious.

“When are you meeting with this imbecile?”

She gave him a pointed look at his insult. “In twenty minutes.”

Aemond smirked, the look in his eye darkening, though in a much different way than it had before. The lust that overtook his gaze made her shiver.

“He can wait.”

With that, he crashed his lips to hers and dragged her to the back of the library, their hidden alcove they had desecrated many a time before.

No less than forty minutes later, after Aemond had thoroughly fucked her like an animal and her desperate attempts to straighten her appearance, did she finally meet Lord Elric Wylde in the gardens.

She hoped she wasn’t walking funny as a result of Aemond’s brutal thrusts that had rendered her a moaning, mindless fool.

“My Lady.” He greeted her politely, offering his arm to her, which she accepted, no matter how wrong it felt.

As they began to walk, she steadily ignored the feeling of her lover’s seed that dripped down her thigh.

She forced her mind to move on from the memory of his debauched touches and greedy lips that traveled across every inch of her body and looked to the man beside her, suddenly realizing he was looking at her questioningly.

Her eyes widened as she realized she hadn’t been listening to a word he had said.

“What?”

He laughed slightly. “I asked how your day was.”

“Oh.” She giggled, hoping he couldn’t tell how embarrassed she was. “It’s been fine.”

“I admit, my day is much brighter now that I am in your company.”

She smiled stiffly. She couldn’t find it in herself to force anything more genuine.

They continued to walk throughout the gardens and she was thankfully able to remain half-listening as the eager Lord mostly spoke about himself and didn’t bother to ask her any further questions.

She settled for mindless hums in agreement to whatever he had been spouting on about.

As they turned the corner, she suddenly stopped in her tracks as she met Aemond’s cool eye from across the path.

He smirked at her, the sight causing a blooming heat to burn inside her. She was suddenly more aware of the seed that dripped down her leg.

By the look in his eye and the devilish smirk across his lips it was obvious he was thinking about the same thing.

“Is everything ok?”

She cleared her throat and forced herself to keep walking.

“Yes, everything's fine.” She spoke slightly tersely, completely thrown off by Aemond’s presence. They continued on their way and she silently prayed her lover’s fierce jealousy wouldn’t rear its ugly head.

“My Lord.”

She winced, silently cursing the man she loved and his petty nature.

“Prince Aemond.” Elric greeted, his tone sounding slightly cautious as he came face to face with the feared Prince.

“I am terribly sorry to interrupt, but I heard your father had something urgent to discuss with you.”

“My father?” Elric questioned.

“Yes, he needs to see you in the council room.”

The young Lord looked confused, only inciting Aemond’s frustration further.

“Quickly, my Lord. You mustn't keep your father waiting.” He added forcefully.

The Lord swallowed, his face blanching at the abrupt tone and looked to the Lady beside him, too flustered to notice the scowl she was sending the Prince.

“Of course.” He bowed to both of them respectfully and grabbed her hand, thankfully not noticing how Aemond twitched, having to stop himself from lunging forward and ripping his hand from her.

“I will find you again, my Lady, so we can continue.”

“Of course.” She said stiffly, her smile terse.

As the Lord scurried away, she moved her gaze to Aemond, the smug smirk on his face made her want to rage yet laugh all at once.

“You have some nerve.” She muttered and turned on her heel, though Aemond was quick to follow, falling into step beside her. “You said you would leave it be.”

“I agreed to let you meet with him, I made no such promise about what I would do after.”

“Aemond, people will talk about us and your attempts at derailing a courtship.”

“Let them talk. I’ll gladly have them answer to Vhagar.”

She rolled her eyes and subtly elbowed him in his side, delighting in the breathless wheeze that left his lips.

He reached out, linking his arm through hers before she could leave his side.

“I had to rescue you from such boredom, my love.” He spoke softly.

She looked over at him plainly, knowing he would have found any excuse to ruin her time with any man that dared to think they had a chance with her.

“And what will you do when the poor boy realizes his father did not summon him?”

“If he dares to call me a liar I’ll meet him with my sword.”

She shook her head, though she shouldn’t have been in much disbelief. This was Aemond, he was nothing if not possessive of what he cherished.

Aemond smirked and leaned in closer so his lips brushed against her ear.

“Do you really think I would let another man touch what is mine?” He practically growled. “Tell me, do you think he could tell from your raspy voice that I just had you screaming for my cock?”

She felt a shiver race down her spine, her thighs clenching together at the memory of his devastating touch on her. She pulled her arm from his and turned to face him, delighting in the way his eye darkened with anticipation.

She smirked and took a step backwards, her gaze remaining on him as if keeping him locked into her trance as she walked away.

“Where are you going?” He asked breathlessly.

“To tell my father I don’t wish to court Elric Wylde.”

Aemond grinned triumphantly, his blood thrumming in his veins with blinding desire.

“And then?”

“I think I’ll head back to the library. There’s a particular book I'd like to read again.” She crooned, the sultry smile on her lips stirring his lust, quickly feeling himself hardening at the insinuation of another round with her before the day was done.

“I will see you there.” Aemond called back and tried with all his might not to sprint to the library to wait for her.

Aegon tripped over his own right foot, forcing himself to lean on the stone wall beside him as he drunkenly made his way through the hidden tunnels, hoping he was on the right path to Aemond’s room.

He was in the mood for depravity and he wanted to drag his brother down with him. He just hoped he wasn’t with that Island bitch who was always attached at his hip. She ruined their last visit to the Silk Street.

He smirked to himself triumphantly as he reached the hidden door to Aemond’s chambers. He dropped his wineskin to the ground and pushed it open slowly to avoid making much noise to alert his brother.

He wanted to scare the little twat.

He stepped inside, but froze instantly at the sound of a breathless moan.

Confusion was the first thing he became aware of, but it soon turned to sheer delight as he recognized the sounds of panting and moaning. The sounds were unmistakable.

“Fuck, don’t stop.”

Aegon’s eyes widened at the sound of the breathless voice. He didn’t think his brother had it in him.

He slinked into the room with slow, quiet steps. His eyes widened when he peered around the corner, his jaw falling slack.

He knew that figure anywhere.

He knew his brother was in love with the Ixtal girl, he just didn’t think he’d have the balls to do anything about it. But he was dead wrong. He bit his lip as he watched the beauty atop his brother, mesmerized by the movement of her hips.

He watched, enthralled, feeling his cock twitch to life, as her head fell back, the pleasure on her face stirring something inside him. His eyes fell to her perky breasts that bounced tantalizingly with every one of her movements, forcing himself to bite his lip to stifle his own groan of pleasure.

“Aemond.” She moaned, making Aegon cringe at the reminder of the beauty in front of him was currently fucking his brother and not him.

He watched with jealousy as his brother’s hands roamed that perfect body, from her thighs up to her breasts. The sounds of his brother’s groans and pants of pleasure brought anger to bubble to the surface. Aegon’s eyes fell to his brother and he was startled to see the sparkling sapphire gem in place of his eye.

He had never seen his brother without his eye patch on.

The interest in his brother’s eye left swiftly as Aemond tightened his grip on the woman’s hips and thrust upwards, the loud moan she let out bringing him back to the present enticing sight.

Gods, she sounded like a whore from the Silk Street. He wished he could grab her and take her for his own. His brother didn’t deserve that beauty.

He watched the woman plant her hands on Aemond’s chest, her hips bouncing quicker, making him let out a loud, blissful moan. Her nails dug into his skin and it was the moment Aemond placed his hand atop hers, intertwining their fingers and leaning up to kiss her passionately that took Aegon out of the moment, the romantic gesture turning his delight into disgust.

He audibly scoffed, the noise reaching the couple. The woman looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening in horror as she yelped in fright. The second Aemond noticed his brother he swiftly turned them over, quickly covering her bare body with the sheets of his bed. He quickly stood from the bed, pulling his breeches up hastily, his deadly scowl locked onto his drunken wastrel of a brother.

“I had my suspicions brother, but now I know, you are truly pathetic.” Aegon slurred.

“What are you doing here?” Aemond seethed, his voice low with deadly intention.

“Enjoying the show.” He smiled viciously. His eyes moved past Aemond to the girl on the bed, but Aemond moved, blocking his line of sight from her.

“Don’t look at her.”

Aegon scoffed. “It’s too late. I already saw every inch of that whor-”

Aegon’s sentence abruptly ended as a gasping breath escaped him as his back hit the wall behind him, Aemond’s arm against his throat.

“Aemond!” She called out worriedly, wrapping the sheet around her trembling body as she stood from the bed.

He looked over his shoulder at her, the fury in his eye dimming as he noticed how scared she looked.

He turned back to his brother, his face growing redder the longer he pressed against his throat.

“You will never enter my chambers again. You will never speak of this and you will never look at her that way again.” He warned, his voice low, his intention clear.

He lifted his arm, leaving Aegon to stumble to the ground, gasping coughs escaping him as he took in grateful gulps of air. His heaving breaths soon turned to laughs, the drunken idiot finding the situation hilarious.

He unsteadily got to his feet, his eyes moving past his brother to land on the girl again, causing Aemond’s eye to darken, rage bubbling within him.

“You want my silence? You think it comes for free?”

“What do you want?” Aemond seethed through gritted teeth.

Aegon smirked, the sight making Aemond’s blood boil. He dreaded where this was going. His hand twitched, itching to wipe the smug look off his brother’s face.

“I won’t tell our precious mother what you’ve been doing, I won’t tell the court how you’ve sullied this poor girl and ruin her reputation… if I can have a turn with her.”

Her face fell, the hungry look Aegon sent her making her want to crawl out of her skin.

Aemond acted quickly, delivering a swift punch to his brother’s face. Aegon cursed and groaned, losing his footing, but Aemond was quick and wasn’t about to let him off the hook just yet. He grabbed a fistful of Aegon’s greasy hair and yanked him upwards, throwing him against the wall yet again.

“Love, grab my dagger.”

Aemond looked over his shoulder at the girl who was practically trembling in place, her hands clutched onto the sheet, her eyes watering. She gulped and reached for the dagger at his bedside, stepping forward on shaking legs to hand it over.

Aemond smirked darkly, feeling powerful as Aegon’s eyes widened in fear as he pressed the blade against his cheek.

“If you ever look at her in a way that is anything but polite, if you speak any vile comments in her direction, I’ll know and I won’t be giving you a second chance.”

“Brother-” Aegon choked out, a strangled gasp escaping as Aemond pressed harder against his throat, his dagger making a small cut on his cheek.

“You speak one word about her and I will take your tongue. I will cut off each of your limbs and feed them to Vhagar. You will be nothing but ash by the time I’m done with you.” Aemond spoke darkly, his voice steady and calm, fully honest in his threats.

After a few long, tense seconds, Aegon subtly nodded and Aemond lifted his hand, taking the dagger away from his face, leaving a small, almost imperceptible cut on his cheek, leaving nothing but a drop of blood that beaded to the surface.

“Get out.”

Aegon said nothing as he made his leave, not even sparing a glance back at her.

She let out a heavy exhale, her shaking legs almost giving out beneath her as she slowly sat at the edge of the bed, her hands still clutching fistfulls of the sheet wrapped around her.

“Are you alright?” Aemond asked, startling her slightly when she realized he was kneeled in front of her, his hands cradling her face gently, looking at her worriedly.

“He’s going to tell.” She spoke monotonously, her anxious mind conjuring a thousand scenarios of how the next morning will turn out, all ending with her humiliated, flooded with insults and forced to leave the Capitol as nothing more than a ruined whore.

“He won’t.”

“But if he-”

“He won’t do anything.” Aemond assured her, though he couldn’t deny how his own heart raced with equal parts adrenaline and fear of what Aegon could possibly do to ruin his life.

He eyed her carefully, moving to sit next to her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her as he hauled her into his lap. He kissed the delicate slope of her neck softly, moving upwards until he captured her lips with his in a kiss so sweet she would have continued where they had left off if she wasn’t so shaken.

“I will make it right.”

“How?”

He smiled slightly, the light in his eye so different to the fury she had seen just a minute ago.

“By doing what I should have done a long time ago.” He answered softly, his eye searing into hers with nothing but devotion.

Her heart that had finally slowed began to race yet again, this time for a much different reason. The resolution on Aemond’s face brought tears to her eyes. His love for her had always been clear, but now, as she spiraled and he remained calm, her everlasting rock, her guidance back to herself, solidified everything she already knew.

“I cannot go another day with you as my secret.”

“Aemond-”

“You will be my wife.” He spoke seriously. “Even if my grandfather disagrees, we will be married. We’ll leave for Ixtal tomorrow if we have to. I care little for what it would take. All I know is that I will take no wife that is not you.”

Her lips curled upwards, her insides twisting delightfully. She leaned into him, letting her forehead rest against his.

“I love you.” She said, her voice no more than a whisper.

Aemond’s hands tightened around her waist, wishing nothing existed outside of his room, outside of this moment.

“I love you.” He whispered, his lips brushing against hers softly. “Issa prūmia.”

My heart.

His name for her that was only whispered in the safety of his chambers, away from listening ears, could soon be said for all to hear.

“I won’t ever let him hurt you.” He promised her, the dark edge of his voice returning at the mention of his debauched brother.

She wound her arms around him and kissed him firmly, her trust completely his. She worried what Aegon could do to them, to her, having some leverage over them. She worried what Aemond’s mother and grandsire would think of their betrothal, if they would allow it.

She worried about what their future would look like in a mere matter of hours. But she could do nothing about it, so she remained in his arms, letting him hold her as he continuously assured her, promised her nothing but a life of happiness between his sweet kisses.

By the next morning, neither one of them having slept a wink, Aemond dressed and before he left he cradled her face in his hands, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll take care of this, I promise you.”

“What if-”

“Nothing is going to take you away from me. I swear it, my love.” He interrupted her tearful fears. He kissed her once more before leaving his chambers.

The gentle and caring expression on his face fell the moment the door closed behind him. His body became rigid, his face dark with determination as he walked purposefully to his mother’s chambers.

He recited the speech in his head yet again, he’d done nothing else all night, trying to find a way to convince his mother of a betrothal.

Suddenly, as he came to his mother’s door, all words were gone from his head, leaving him standing tensely, his face pale and fear seeping through his veins.

He prayed he had gotten to her before Aegon.

With a deep breath, he slammed the door open and stomped inside the room as if it were his own, startling his mother who placed a hand over her racing heart at the sudden intrusion.

“I’d like to propose a marriage.” He spoke frantically and Alicent’s eyes widened in shock.

“Aemond, now isn’t-”

He interrupted quickly, breathing out the name of the love of his life, effectively shutting up his mother.

“I wish to marry her. I know it’s sudden and to be truthful, I don’t care if you do not agree, I’d take her across the sea to marry her if I had to. We are a fruitful match and I do not see any good reason to disagree.”

His mother was left to stare in disbelief.

A chuckle across the room made Aemond stiffen and he looked over to the other person in the room he had failed to notice. He swallowed, his face growing even paler at the sight of the Lord of Ixtal moving to take a seat in the chair across from his mother.

Embarrassment washed over him as he realized he had interrupted a meeting between his mother and the father of the woman he had just confessed his love for.

“Well, I couldn’t agree more.”

Aemond’s eye widened and he stared at the man incredulously, as if he were merely jesting at his expense.

“I think you two are a fine match.” The man continued. “You clearly hold much affection for my daughter, I could not think of a better person to be at her side.”

Alicent floundered, watching the events unfold before her with wide, horrified eyes. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

“Aemond, we have invited Floris Baratheon to the Capitol. You two are supposed to begin a courtship.” She stuttered out, grasping at straws to stop this in its tracks.

“There are plenty of suitors to take my place.” Aemond countered quickly. Nothing would derail him, nothing would take him away from his love.

“He has practically been courting my daughter for years.” The Lord of Ixtal chimed in with a chuckle. He stood and reached his hand out for Aemond to shake. “You’re a fine man, Aemond. I would be happy for you to take my daughter’s hand.”

The praise, which was so seldom among his own family, made his throat tighten in a way he hadn’t expected and he swallowed thickly, clearing his throat as he shook the hand of the man who had just given him everything he could have ever wanted.

“But-“

“I think we should take this to the King. He’ll be delighted.” The Lord interrupted Alicent before she could voice her displeasure, as if knowing what she was trying to do, prompting a look of resentment from the Queen.

Aemond smiled, overcome with happiness and relief. It clouded his mind enough to not notice how deeply shaken his mother looked.

He was delirious, this was far from how he expected this morning to go. He always held a soft spot for the Lord of Ixtal, not only for creating the person he loved more than life itself, but for the kindness he always showed him, even as a young, ambitious child.

He often found himself wishing his own father was more like the father of his love.

His mind was spinning, barely able to keep track as his father’s dear friend, his soon to be father by law, spoke to his own delirious and decaying father, proposing a unity between their two houses.

It was the first time in years he saw his father smile.

Viserys reached a decrepit hand towards him, his smile revealing his missing and rotten teeth as he spoke his praises, most likely for the first time in his short life. Aemond didn’t care, the slight he thought would’ve plagued him was far from his brain.

All he cared about, all his mind could comprehend, was the fact that his father agreed, that he would soon marry the woman he loved with all his heart.

Once they left the King’s room, the Lord of Ixtal placed his strong hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not naive enough to believe the future will be easy, but I expect you to remain at her side.” He spoke lowly, Aemond quickly understanding what he was subtly referring to. The state of his family was murky on a good day, he knew as his father decayed further, the state of their family would become more tenuous. “I trust you to protect her, no matter what happens.”

Aemond nodded, his determination hardening his features.

“You have my word.” He promised swiftly, determination in his voice. “I will protect her with my life.”

The man smiled and cupped Aemond’s face affectionately, the gesture that of a father, causing a lump to well in Aemond’s throat, wondering if his father had ever done the same.

“You’re a good man, Aemond. You’re everything I could have hoped for my girl.”

Aemond cleared his throat, determined to not let himself become emotional at the affection he had seldom felt in his life, save for the one girl who remained steadily at his side.

With the heavy lump remaining in his throat, his numb body moved him from his father’s chambers, making his way to Helaena’s room, knowing that was where his love usually spent her mornings.

He let out a deep breath, his stomach swirling with nerves as if he was nothing more than that lovesick boy again as he thought of what he had just done, what he just accomplished.

He got to marry the love of his life. They didn’t need to sneak around any longer, they didn’t have to hide just how much they meant to each other.

He made it to Helaena’s chambers, his eyes immediately falling on her, taking a moment to watch her bright smile, her glorious laugh ringing out in the room, soothing every worry he had felt the night before.

He stepped into the room, catching Helaena’s attention who perked up and smiled at him warmly.

“Good morning, brother.”

The woman at her side tensed slightly and turned her head, her wide, inquisitive eyes locking onto him, the question in her gaze clear, her worry seeping out from every inch of her.

The slight upturn of his lips was all she needed to answer her silent question and no more than a second later did her entire body sag in relief, a breathless exhale leaving her as she grinned, allowing every ounce of worry and doubt to roll off her, leaving nothing but pure delight.

Helaena watched the two, not needing much context to understand what they shared, their happiness enough of an explanation for what she knew was soon to come.

She stayed seated as she watched her dear friend stand and wrap her brother in a tight hug. She noticed how tightly Aemond held her, how his lone eye closed in content as he held the girl, his usually tense body sagging against her, as if he no longer had any reservations while he was in her arms.

She smiled in relief, feeling nothing but happiness that two people she held so dear would soon start their lives together.

“It is done?” She whispered as she held tightly to the man of her affection.

“It is done. My father agreed to a betrothal.”

A breathless laugh escaped her, her grip tightening on Aemond, though she no longer had any reason to fear he would be taken from her.

Behind them, Helaena’s smile slowly fell, her bright eyes becoming glassy as she stared off into space, the embroidery in her hands falling to her lap as her grip became slack.

“The light of the sun dims under clouds of green and black.”

The lovers were too caught up in their embrace, they did not hear her mumbled warning.

Tags:

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon fic

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lovelyjj · 3 months ago

Note

hiii could you do the reader and jj diving for the necklace, getting attacked by those guys, and jj goes to get the reader with the group checking up on them and they end up getting the bends, going to the hospital to be put into that chamber and it’s just really cute and soft <3

Hyperbaric Chamber

jj maybank x reader

OBX season 4 SPOILERS

a/n: I was hoping someone would request this! I didn’t know if you wanted smut or not so I didn’t include it but let me know if anyone wants smut in the hyperbaric chamber!

“Look, it’s too dangerous for you to dive alone Im going with you,” you stated.

“You sure?” JJ questioned.

“Yeah I’m sure. It’s not safe. You need a buddy.”

“It’s 80 feet down in the dark.”

“I already decided so,” you replied.

“Okay, that’s that.” JJ spoke.

You and JJ were going to receive an amulet that had been said to break the curse of the Genrettes that’s haunted their family for over 300 years. You were a little nervous but you knew you had JJ with you. You and JJ, plus Pope and John B take the boat out to where Blackbeard’s ship was wrecked.

“Don’t forget your safety stop, all right? Fifteen feet for three minutes. Hear that, JJ? Fifteen feet, three minutes,” Pope reminded you both.

“Copy that.”

“Or what?” you ask.

“The bends, remember? Nitrogen in the blood, excruciating pain, death, et cetera, et cetera.” Pope recites.

JJ looks at you and you can tell he will never forgive himself if something happened to you. “Hey you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah I’m good.”

“Okay.”

“Diver down.”

You and JJ put on your gear and fall back into the water. You both turn on your flashlights and swim down into the water. There’s a lot of fish but you finally reach the ship. JJ pushed open a window and you both go through it.

JJ finds the necklace and uses his knife to break it off the wall. Out of nowhere someone attacks you and takes your breathing tube out of your mouth. JJ takes his speargun and thrusts it at the guy, he manages to shank him in the arm.

JJ starts to fight with the guy and the guy ends up locking JJ out. JJ calls out to you, his voice desperate and he bangs on the door. The guy grabs you by the leg and cuts off your tank leaving you with no air. JJ screams for you and you scream for him.

JJ managed to break a hole in the door and he put his arm through and unlocked it. He then urgently gave you his mouth piece to give you some air. He looked down at his monitor and saw that there was only 17 seconds left.

“We gotta go now.” JJ urged.

You finally reached the surface and you both gasped for air.

“You okay?” JJ asked.

“Yeah. That was so close.”

“I know.”

“Who the hell was that down there?” JJ questioned.

“Where’s John B?”

The two of you start yelling for Pope and John B. They hear you and you swim over to them. Pope gets the ladder.

“Y/N, hand me your stuff,” Pope offers.

You let out a groan.

“Wait. Where’s your BCP?” Pope asks.

“It’s gone.”

“What? What do you mean it’s gone?”

“I mean, it’s gone.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“There was a guy that tried to kill us.” JJ breathed.

“We saw a boat out here too. They were armed. We need to get out of here now,” Pope said urgently.

“No, you don’t understand. There’s a guy down there-“ JJ was cut off.

“There’s a boat. We just saw it pass,” Pope repeats.

John B starts to move the boat and you all sail out of there. Once you all get back to the château John B speaks, “Alright what the hell happened?”

“Someone tried to kill us,” you responded.

“What? Why would someone try to kill you? That doesn’t make sense,” Pope was confused.

“Obviously, they were going after the same thing we were, right?” John B stated.

“My stomach hurts,” you announced.

“Hey, man, did you take your safety stop?” Pope inspects JJ’s eye.

“I’m gonna say it one more time. Someone was trying to kill us. We did not make the safety stop,“ JJ replied.

“They have the bends. We need to get them to the hospital. Now.” Pope says worried.

Everyone hopped in the twinkie and John B drove as fast as he could. You and JJ were moaning and groaning in pain. Sarah told you to take deep breaths.

“Y’all are not going to believe this,” JJ says as he hands the amulet to Sarah.

“You found it?”

“Holy shit.”

After what felt like forever you finally make it to the hospital. Your friends held you up as you walked in. Pope explained that you went diving and you need help.

“Their vitals and mental status is stable, and the pain scale is moving in the right direction, but they still need time in the hyperbaric chamber. They just bought themselves 12 hours in the tank,” the nurse said to John B.

The two of you were in a lot of pain and you were panting as you laid down in the chamber.

“Y/N.”

“Mmm.”

“You almost died. I should’ve never let you go down there,” JJ says with regret.

“Then who would’ve saved your life?” You reasoned.

“I saved you too.”

“Ya know we’re in here for 12 hours,” you began.

“Yeah but there’s no one else I’d rather be in here with,” JJ shared.

“You’re sweet.”

“You’re my whole world you know that? I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you.”

“I’m here J, right here,” You take his hand and hold it as you lay down.

JJ looks at you and then looks at your lips. You scoot closer to him and lean in. JJ cups your face with one hand and places his lips on yours. The kiss was needy but gentle. JJ was relieved to be kissing you. Your lips were crushing together.

You felt warm all over and your stomach was tingling. JJ’s heart was palpitating. JJ’s tongue explored your mouth. You lapped up his mouth. After making out, you took a breath and JJ brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

“My beautiful girl,” JJ whispered as he cradled your face.

“I love you so fucking much,” JJ confessed.

“I love you too.”

“I’m gonna marry you some day. We’re gonna live on the beach and have a bunch of kids. It’s gonna be perfect,” JJ talked to you about your future.

“Sounds like a dream,” you stated.

“It will be. So do you want a small wedding or a big wedding?” JJ asked.

“Hmm maybe something small and intimate. Like just the pogues and family,” you suggested.

“Yeah I like that idea. Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?”

“What about Greece or Italy or Fiji?” You thought out loud.

“Any of those would work for me, as long as i’m with you,” JJ replied.

You rested your forehead on JJ’s forehead and smiled. You spent the rest of your time in the chamber cuddling and talking. It was an experience. You turned out just fine and you had JJ so that was nice.

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floatyflowers · 7 months ago

Text

Dark! House Of The Dragon x Game of Thrones! Reader|Part 5

<<< Part 4

Rhaenyra locked you in your chambers once she received the news of Luke's death.

You couldn't blame her, one of her children were killed by her half-brother.

On the other hand, you could barely eat anything, all you could think about is the doom that this war will cause.

You feel ashamed for miscalculating the whole situation, Aemond is a monster just like the rest of the Hightowers.

The boy whom you defended when you were young, went on and betrayed you.

Rhaenyra only allowed you outside your chambers when Jacaerys returned from the North.

All you could do is hug him and your mother as you all mourn the death of Lucerys.

At that moment all Jacaerys thought about is to take his dragon and burn down Kingslanding along with the greens.

To keep the rest of his family protected... To protect you and his daughter.

One night, Daemon visited your chambers, while Jacaerys was with Rhaenyra discussing war plans.

Daemon promised you to revenge Lucerys and gave you a Velaryian steel dagger for protection.

"I want the war to end, Daemon"

"The war will end when those who harmed us will pay, sweet child"

Meanwhile in the red keep, Aegon II enjoyed the feeling of being a king.

But there is one person missing, you, his sweet niece.

Aegon wishes to take you as a second wife and is planning to end your husband to achieve such a thing.

Only one problem, Aemond is thinking of the same thing.

Part 6 >>>

#tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #yandere house of the dragon #daughter reader #possessive #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon

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candy69gurl · 9 months ago

Note

hiii 🤗🤗 im new to your blog, i know you write dark fiction i was wondering if youd be open to some fluff? Like soft sex with sukuna?

Infernal Passion

Heian Era Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, slight non-con, loss of innocence, size kink (Sukuna in true form with 2 dicks, 4 arms and abdomen mouth), mentions of violence (Sukuna eats humans but gentle only with you), use of nicknames, belly buldge, pussy eating, fingering (Sukuna has nails), nipple playing, raw sex (cumming inside), breeding kink, mentions of lactation

wc - 2.4K

ART NOT MINE !

"—Oh, Uraume, bring the new offering to me." Sukuna grumbles, his voice low and menacing. "Tie her up securely and make sure she knows her place. I won't tolerate any resistance from her." He smirks cruelly, savouring the thought of what's to come.

Uraume enters the room, dragging you by the arm, your eyes wide with fear.

Uraume ties you to a wooden post, leaving you bound and vulnerable. Your eyes are filled with tears, and your breathing has turned shallow, each gasp echoing softly in the dimly lit room. The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the many who faced the same fate as you.

"Ah, such a delicate little thing." Sukuna's eyes rake over you, taking in every detail of your body. "I can already taste the fear in your blood. It's going to be a delightful meal." He reaches out, gently running a finger down your cheek, his touch cold and calculating. "Such a sweet dessert after a huge feast."

"P-please d-dont eat me.. I-I don't want to die.. I beg of you", you plead, your body already limb under his gaze.

Sukuna's eyes narrow, studying your pleading expression. "Very well, I shall spare you this time." He leans in closer, his breath warming against your skin. "But you have to give me something in return.

"What do you have to offer me?" Sukuna asks, his gaze intense. "You must give me something truly valuable to earn my mercy today." He steps back, crossing his arms, and waits for your response.

You are trembling against his piercing gaze, words stuck in your throat.

"Yes, yes, I can tell you're frightened," Sukuna says mockingly, "but I assure you, I am quite patient. What do you think would please me enough to forget your insignificant life?" He watches you closely, examining your trembling form and the fear etched upon your face. "Perhaps your body could provide some sort of entertainment... Tell me, have you ever served a man before? Or perhaps multiple men?"

Tears stream down your face as you desperately search for words. "N-no." You whisper, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, "I am... pure, untouched." Your voice wavers, and you bite your lip nervously, hoping that your submission will be enough.

Sukuna's eyes gleam with interest as he studies your reaction. "Pure, are you? That could be intriguing." He takes a step closer, towering over you, his massive form looming over your tiny frame. "But I require more than just words, little one. Show me how much you value your life, and maybe I'll decide if it's worth keeping." He gestures Uraume towards his chamber, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Inside, you will find what I need. Fail me, and I will eat your heart and make you suffer until your last breath."

Uraume approaches you, their expression softening slightly as they untie the bonds restraining you. "Fear not, dear one. Lord Sukuna requires your purity intact." They whisper gently, helping you stand and guiding you towards the chamber, "We shall prepare you for his pleasure."

Within the chamber, a warm bath steams gently, and a pristine robe is laid out on a nearby stool. Uraume helps you undress and step into the water, washing away the dirt and fear clinging to your body. Their gentle hands work over your tense muscles, and their movements are confident and practiced.

As you relax in the warm water, Uraume carefully dries you off and helps you into the robe, adjusting the fabric to fall just right over your slender form. "You are ready now, dear one." Uraume's voice is calm and soothing, and their eyes never leave you. "Remember, you must please Lord Sukuna if you wish to live." They lead you back to the main room, where Sukuna awaits, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Well, well," Sukuna drawls, his gaze raking over your body. "Look at you, all cleaned up and ready for my pleasure." He runs a hand through his hair, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Sukuna motions for you to approach the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as you move cautiously towards him. With a single swift motion, he removes your robe, revealing your innocence and vulnerability to him. "Ah, so tempting."

"You are merely a morsel in comparison to my size and strength, yet your innocence and fragility only add to your allure." Sukuna growls, his massive hands tracing gently down your slender frame. "And here I thought your kind were all tough and unyielding, but you are anything but. You're soft, delicate, and, oh, so delectable." As he speaks, he pulls you closer, your bodies pressing intimately together.

His grip tightens, pulling you even closer, his erection pressing against your belly. "Your innocence is intoxicating, little one." He bends down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. You taste fear and surrender, which only fuels his desire further. His fingers trail down to where your legs meet, hesitating for a moment before pushing on your legs.

Your eyes fail to meet his, a tender blush filling your cheeks.

"Such shyness is adorable." But you'll learn quickly that there is no escape from my desires." His red eyes devouring your innocence.

With that, he sinks to his knees, his tongue flicking out to taste your essence.

The great Ryomen Sukuna on his knees for a mere human like you, you think.

Your thighs shake, his tongue is huge, one slide is enough to cover your whole womanhood. He savours your shock and fear, letting them mingle with the sweet flavour of your arousal. "So good; you taste better than raw blood." He murmurs, licking and sucking at your tender flesh, driving you wild with both pleasure and terror.

You squirm and whimper against his tongue. "Ah, so sensitive." Sukuna growls, his tongue darting out to catch the droplets of your arousal. "You're going to make me lose control, little one."

Sukuna's eyes widen in surprise at your sensitivity, his tongue lapping up the flood of wetness that cascaded onto his face. This is unlike any human he has encountered before. He cannot remember experiencing such sensitivity from others. It makes him thirsty for more, for your submission and pleasure.

Your mewls and whimpers turn him on further. "Such sweet sounds. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Sukuna's voice is thick with lust, and his tongue never ceases its relentless assault on your sensitive core. He thrusts two thick fingers inside you, stretching your tight walls as you squirm beneath him, his nails brushing your walls drawing out moans from you, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

"A-ah, too much, Lord."

Sukuna groans low in his throat, fighting the urge to claim you right then and there. "If you can't handle that, how will you take my full length inside you?" He asks rhetorically, his fingers working in and out of you, stretching your wet heat in preparation.

Slowly, he eases himself free from his robes, his two massive members standing proud and eager. He positions himself at your entrance, taking a moment to let you feel the weight of his manhood pressing against your delicate folds. "Ready to accept what you owe me, little one?" A cruel smirk curves his lips, knowing you have no choice but to submit.

"Are you going to put both of them inside me?" You are terrified at the thought of his two lengths invading you.

"Don't worry, I won't," Sukuna responds, even though he wanted to push both his dicks inside you, the thought of your tender body feeling pain from it made him rebuff his thoughts. He gently guides his upper dick to your entrance.

Your thoughts are a mix of terror and confusion. You never imagined yourself in such a position—being taken by a powerful demon who holds your life in his hands. Yet, as he slowly pushes into you, the unfamiliar sensation overwhelms you. You cannot help but wonder if this is how your end comes, consumed by this beast. But strangely, your body responds to him, arching into his touch, craving more even

You couldn't believe it. A creature of such immense power and cruelty is gentle with you. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, almost tender. It's a stark contrast to the fear and violence that defined your encounter thus far. As he moves within you, you feel a strange mix of emotions—fear, yes, but also a strange sense of safety. It's an odd sensation to be at the mercy of a monster yet feel protected.

As he continues his slow, gentle thrusts, you can't help but wonder,

Was he capable of more than just cruelty and violence? Or was this just another part of his twisted game, designed to confuse and disorient you before claiming you completely?

"Feeling good, little bird?", he coos.

"Y-yes lord."

"Just for you, little bird. I'll be as gentle as silk." Sukuna whispers, his pace slowing down even further. His two hands hold your legs, and the third one strokes his ignored dick, a strange tongue formed from his hand slides against it. His fourth hand slides down to stroke your clit. The sudden burst of pleasure elicits a gasp from you.

"It feels so good, Lord Sukuna."

"Good. Enjoy it while you can." His thumb circles your clit, tongue formed from his hand occasionally lapping at it making your body flinch, taunting you with orgasm and drawing it out until your core is begging for release.

"Please, I am going to release, my lord", you eyes pleading him to let you release.

"I know.." Sukuna's breath hitches,"I've never been so careful with anyone, especially a mere mortal." His voice dripped with arrogance.

His two shafts pulsated, straining for release.

He hisses at your tightness as you squeeze his dick, creaming it white. Your moans echo through the room.

"Ah, so sweet, hmph," he purrs.

Without missing a beat, Sukuna switches the shaft currently inside you with the one he was stroking. He leans down and takes the newly freed member into his abdominal mouth. The sight of his shaft being devoured by his cursed abdomen sends shivers down your spine.

Sukuna seems to notice the direction of your gaze."They both want to be in you, sweetheart. Perhaps not today... I shall claim you with one of my dicks only."

"Love you..," your tone barely audible.

"Love me?" Sukuna's eyes narrow, his brow furrowing. This affection was unexpected, especially from someone he was about to devour a while ago. Yet, there is something intriguing about it. "Love? What do you know of love, little bird?"

He continues to move inside you, his pace increasing ever so slightly. Each thrust is deeper and harder than the last.

"I just know you are never going to hurt me. That's enough for me to love you."

Sukuna laughs cruelly, his hips moving faster now. His laughter echoes in the room, filled with both scorn and amusement. "Oh, how naïve you are. Perhaps I will love you back on one condition."

Your stomach bulges with each thrust, revealing a glimpse of his massive member. It moves in and out of you, leaving behind a trail of pleasure and pain.

With every thrust, your cheeks redden, and your eyes lock onto his.

"Will you be able to bear my child?"

You bite your already swollen lips, thinking your future with the curse king.

"Answer me!" Sukuna roars, slamming into you harder; his need for confirmation is overwhelming.

You swallow hard, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Yes! Yes, Lord Sukuna! I'll bear your child!"

"Good. You deserve my love then." Sukuna kisses your neck, then his tongue slides down your sternum to your breasts, his shaft disappearing entirely before re-emerging from between your legs.

"You'll bear my child, and you'll remember me every time you look at them. You'll remember your lord." Each word carries the weight of ownership, sealing your fate.

His eyes gleam with anticipation, imagining the sight of your breasts swelling with milk. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

"Imagine it, your nipples engorged, milk from them flowing freely. Yes, that would be lovely." His grip tightens on her hip, his thrusts becoming deeper and more possessive. His mouth sucks on your nipples while one of his hands pinches your nipples, thinking about how they would look, swollen and ready to feed his future kids. With each squeeze and suckle, you whimper, your body writhing beneath him. This is a future you never expected, but somehow, it excites you more than terrifies you.

His thrusts grow longer and slower, each one filled with possession and dominance. His mouth moves from one breast to the next, licking and sucking while his hand plays with the other.

"So close, are we?" His voice was low and seductive, promising pleasure and pain.

"Please, Lord, fill me. Fill me with your seed," you speak out the words you never imagined, you will say.

"So desperate, already? You beg well, sweetheart." Sukuna chuckles, his hips pumping faster. His breathing's ragged, and his gaze fixed on your face. "Are you sure you want this?"

Your lips swollen and red from biting as you let go of your moans while you orgasm again.

He does not wait for an answer, instead driving deep into you and filling you completely. His hot seed spills into your womb, marking you forever. His other dick squirts, landing on your chest and tummy. His eyes darken, and his entire body becomes tense.

"Now, you carry a piece of me. Forever bound to me."

Once spent, he collapses onto her, his breath ragged. His mouth found the curve of her neck, licking gently. "We have a deal, little bird. You bear my children, and I'll protect you. Our bond is sealed now."

"Look at you," Sukuna murmurs, pushing himself off your body. Standing up, he steps back to survey his art.

The mess is undeniable—your chest and belly covered in his seed, your thighs wet with evidence of their coupling.

His finger circles around your nipple, sending shockwaves through your body.

"How messy and used you look right now. Covered head to toe in my filth. I've claimed you and marked my territory for you. No one will dare touch you again. I'll leave you here to rest, my queen. When morning comes, Uraume will take care of you."

"I love you, my queen," he says, kissing your temple, letting you drift into the kingdom of dreams, where you are taking care of lord sukuna's kids.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months ago

Text

young ladies shouldn’t waltz with vampires

a/n: happy halloween!!! here's the fic you guys voted on and shaped a few weeks ago

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

summary: “so, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…”

warnings: vampire!bucky barnes x innocent!reader x vampire!steve rogers, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, historical au (1840s), mind control/vampire compulsion, blood, biting, age gap, ball, dancing, polyamory, threesome, first kiss, kissing, loss of virginity, somno, cockwarming, dirty talk, size kink, pain kink, pussyjob, overstimulation, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, unprotected sex

word count: 3511

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“I have to admit, out of every rose here, you’re the most breathtaking.”

Glancing up from the table before you, cluttered with crystal glasses brimming with refreshments, your eyes flickered to the man now standing beside you, his own piercing blue stare firmly directed at you and no one else in the buzzing ballroom.

Your stunned lips parted slightly before the gentleman boldly spoke up again, “how come I’ve never seen you before?”

Feeling your breath hitch, you managed to babble, “oh, it’s probably because this is my first time at a proper ball. I haven’t really previously been allowed to come stay at my family’s London estate and–, I’m sorry…” you swiftly stopped yourself, sensing the heat that had ridden in your cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this…”

“Well, lucky us that you got let out of your cage and the rest of us finally get to gaze upon your beauty,” he flashed you a dazzling smile before his eyes flickered to someone behind you, “if you’ll excuse me, I see someone I recognise, but would you perhaps grant me the pleasure of a dance a little later?”

Averting your gaze, a smile tugged at your lips as you uttered, “you’d have to ask my brother.”

“But I’m asking you,” he dipped down to catch your vision, “would you care to dance with me?”

Blinking back at him, you couldn’t help but let out the truth.

“Y-yes.”

As a smile swiftly tilted his lips, the gentleman then bowed slightly before you as he plucked up your gloved hand and pressed his lips to the back of it before disappearing into the merry crowd.

Feeling slightly dizzy, you finally snatched up the drink you’d originally wandered to this corner of the chamber to fetch.

Though as you granted yourself a small sip, fingers suddenly grasped your arm and yanked you deeper into a corner.

“Sister!” you blinked up into your brother’s eyes as he’d evidently spotted you from across the ballroom and, judging by his tone, not approved of what he’d seen, “what in the world do you think you’re doing?”

Ripping your arm free, you furrowed your brows, “what are you talking about? I was just getting some punch.”

“No,” he hissed at a hushed volume, “why were you talking to him?”

A confused scoff then bubbled out past your lips, “I’ve talked to plenty of men at this party, with and without you at my side, so why is he any different?”

“Because, sister,” he leaned down a bit further, “he’s not a man. He’s one of them,” his eyes scanned your own before he spelled it out, “a vampire.”

Though you’d never previously encountered one yourself, you still weren’t so naive to not be aware of the known influential status such creatures of the night had in the society you lived in. Them being in attendance at a fine ball was nothing compared to the other privileges they had achieved over the centuries.

“Really?” you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder, though didn’t spot the bloodsucker again.

“God,” your brother groaned quietly, “I know mother and papa have kept you rather sheltered compared to myself, but trust me, you have to stay away from them. They’re monsters, killing is in their nature,” with a hand on your cheek, he guided your gaze back to his, “promise me you won’t speak to one ever again.”

Blinking back at him, you then uttered sincerely, “I promise.”

“Good,” a visible weight then faded from his shoulders as he let go of you and straightened back up to his full height.

As you stayed on the outskirts of the party, one of your fingers curved to trace the lines of the fine glass still clutched in your grasp.

Soon your eyes flickered up from the liquid remaining in the goblet and landed on the other guests. Elegant crinoline gowns swooshed and swayed to the music emanating from the small string quartet in the corner, acting as a heartbeat for the lords and ladies of London as they danced the night away.

“Well, as I live and breathe,” a voice then found not only your brother’s ears, but yours as well.

Twisting slightly, you watched as a wide grin swiftly stretched your brother’s lips, “Thomas!” he spread his arms out for the redheaded man nearly within his reach.

As they pulled each other into a tight hug, your brother’s friend chimed in his ear, “how you doing, old chap?” before withdrawing from the embrace, though still kept one palm fast on your sibling’s shoulder.

“Not bad, not bad–, oh, Tommy,” your brother then suddenly glanced back at you, “this is my little sister,” gesturing betwixt you both, “sister, this is Thomas, we went to boarding school together.”

Extending a hand, you smiled politely, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he shook your palm before casting his gaze back upon your chaperone, “would you mind if I stole your brother for a moment?”

“Uhm,” you glanced to your sibling before uttering, “no, of course not. Go, have fun, catch up.”

And before the pair slipped away, your brother leaned down to whisper in your ear, “be good till I get back,” to which you offered him a nod in return right before they both vanished from your sight and left you alone at the edge of the dance floor.

Though as you slowly began to wander along the perimeter, your gaze once again affixed upon the sea of swaying pairs in the centre of the ballroom, your gentle stride then abruptly halted as a bulky figure shifted to pass you, though as the stranger attempted to, the two of you collided and the remainder of the drink in your hand splashed across his jacket.

You both froze as you slowly peeled your wide eyes up from the stain of your drink, that lightly dripped from his clothing, and instead flickered up to find the stare of the aristocrat you’d accidentally bumped into.

“Oh god…” your heartbeat swiftly hammered in your ears, deafening out the elegant music that filled the chamber, “sir, I am so sorry, I-I wasn’t looking at where I was going and–”

“It’s alright,” he hastily put an end to your blubbering as he eyed the soaked patch, “it’ll dry,” he uttered, running a broad palm down over the wetness. Though as his gaze flickered back up to find yours, a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he then said, “well, spilling your drink on me, the least you can do is offer me your name so that I know who to warn about to the people who actually are precious about their attire.”

“Lady Y/n Y/l/n,” you averted your gaze as your knees bent in a gentle curtsy, “delighted to make your acquaintance, even under the circumstances–, again, I am so incredibly sorry…”

“You’re a lady but with such lack of grace? Well, now I understand why you aren’t on the floor dancing with someone,” he jested in a teasing tone.

The heat that had already crept up in your cheeks fiercely worsened, “I am a great dancer, I’ll have you know!”

“Oh really?” a smile dazzled his features, “I think I’ll have to see that to believe it,” he spoke as the current song came to an end and he extended a hand out to you, “shall we?”

For a moment, you let your glance flicker about the chamber in search of your brother, though when you couldn’t spot him, you found your own palm thinking for itself and gliding into the man’s standing tall before you.

Once he’d led you out onto the floor, the palm he slid across your waist, and used to guide you a smidge closer to his own frame, caused a shy gasp to slip past your lips long before your feet began to shift below your poofy plum coloured gown.

“Well, I guess you weren’t lying after all,” you soon heard him note after you’d danced for a minute, your movements having been nothing short of perfection since the very first step.

Blinking up at the blonde man holding onto you tight, you finally asked, “what is your name, sir?”

“Lord Steven Rogers,” the title rolled off his tongue as his own gaze kept yours captive, “at your service, my lady.”

“Are you from here? You don’t sound it,” you commented on his accent, “but are you?”

“That’s a good question,” a slight tilt found his head, “London is one of my favourite places and I have spent many of my years here, but it’s not where I’m from, no.”

“So, you’ve travelled a lot?” you asked as he spun you an arm’s length away from himself.

“You could say that…” he smirked as he twirled you back into his hold, “are you?”

“Am I what?” you found yourself slightly dizzy, though not from the dancing.

“From London?”

“Well, my family does have a place here, but I haven’t spent much of my time in the city. At least not yet, I’m hoping I can begin to now that I’m grown, though to be quite frank, I have no idea where to start.”

“I could be your guide,” his offer caught you off guard, “it might have been a few years since I last called this city my home, but I still know it like the back of my hand.”

Mouth shyly agape, you simply blinked back at him a second before uttering, “perhaps if my brother came along as a chaperone.”

“I thought you said you were grown,” the tone he used to deliver his teasing seeped directly into your bones and made you thankful of his firm grip on you as the pair of you continued to sway to the music, “a girl asks for permission and can’t be trusted on her own, but a woman however, takes exactly what she desires and doesn’t let anyone or anything stand in her way…” his smouldering stare then briefly dipped before you heard him murmur, “so, what are you? A little girl or a woman?”

“I–…” you blinked back at him, struggling to navigate the exhilaratingly foreign situation you found yourself in. However, before you could stammer any further, the song came to a close and the surrounding couples parted ways.

Though before you could take even one step back, his hand kept you close a moment longer as he dipped down for his breath to tickle the shell of your ear.

“Meet me in the garden,” he whispered, causing even more goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “then you can give me your answer...”

The cool night air kissed your cheeks as your glance flickered away from the candlelit terrace you’d abandoned only moments prior in order to stand beside the bushy mouth of the dark hedge maze further down the expanse of the estate’s garden. Faint music still found your ears as it echoed out the open windows of the grand manor where the ball still boomed.

Then suddenly, as you were lost in your thoughts of disbelief at what you were doing, just before you could talk yourself into returning to the party, you felt your hand be grabbed before your eyes fluttered up to find the lord you’d been awaiting, his arrival haven been so sudden that it nearly caused you to jump straight out of your skin.

Without a single word, Steve began to drag you into the maze, far away from any prying eyes and where the darkness could swallow you both whole.

“Where are you taking me–,” you attempted to ask, though as the man then abruptly stopped, what he did next stunned you to your very core.

Pulling you close, closer than you’d ever been to any man before, he then pressed his lips to your own, sufficiently shutting you up before you could elaborate your question any further.

The kiss was abrupt, fevered and entirely your first, leaving you dazed and reeling to catch up to the reality, to the dream you were finally expecting.

When Steve finally felt you relax into him, his feet began to shuffle and shift you back till your spine was pressed up against the denseness of the hedge behind you.

But just as a shy whimper from you vibrated against his tongue and your fingers drifted up to whisper around his silky necktie, the snapping of a twig suddenly found your ears and caused you to jump away from your dance partner.

Casting your glance over Steve’s broad shoulder, you spotted as the dark-haired gentleman, that your brother had so fiercely warmed you about, slithered out from the embrace of the shadows.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” the man smirked, folding his arms across his wide chest as he continued to stare.

Eyes wide, you then began to stammer, “Steve,” lightly patting your partner’s arm as he hadn’t yet shifted to protect you with an air of understanding, “h-he’s a–”

“A vampire?” the aristocratic creature raised an eyebrow, “how about you take another look at the lord that just had his tongue down your throat.”

Your panicked glare then fluttered back to Steve in front of you, however, before you could manage to push him away, his hands flew up to either side of your face and he dipped down to stare into your eyes with an intense you’d never witnessed before, somehow locking you up in his gaze as he then compelled you, “don’t scream,” and under the moonlight, you swore you saw his pupils briefly dilate as his wish slithered into your soul, “stay calm.”

Continuing to cup your cheeks, Steve then kissed you once again. Even though his previous words had turned you completely docile in his hold, the sensation of his lips as they soon pecked away from your own, on a determined journey down over your jaw, caused you to melt away that much further.

The neckline of your deep purple gown was so wide that it exposed not only your shoulders, but also crept down scandalously low on your chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as his kisses tickled in their path down your neck, the sensation shooting straight down between your thighs. However, as soon as Steve’s lips were devouring the tender spot where the base of your throat blossomed into your shoulder, a sharp pain suddenly caused your eyes to snap back open as the vampire had sunk his teeth into you.

You winced slightly as blood began to trickle free, your gaze locked with the other man’s as he took a step forward and closed the gap. Standing directly behind Steve, his hand then raised up to stroke your hair.

“So, here’s the thing,” his ocean eyes then flickered in the same manner Steve’s had, mystically bending your mind to his will, “you’re gonna come with us, be ours to play with for the night. You can go home when the sun comes up, but without remembering the time we shared…”

Though you’d barely gotten to sleep an hour, you began to stir as the vampire sprawled out in front of your slumbering form kissed down your neck and swiftly sank his fangs into your shoulder.

Wincing awake and still weak from the blood the two lords had already drained you off, your hiss soon faded into a mumble, “Buck…”

Tilting his chin back a bit, Bucky lapped up the crimson that trickled down from the bite before he whispered, “shh, you can just stay asleep…” and you noticed his hardness straining against you below the covers, “it’s okay, I don’t mind…”

You couldn’t fathom how the vampire still wasn’t satiated after everything that had happened that night, things a lady such as yourself had never dared to even imagine possible. Even now, you were still slotted in between the two naked men under the canopy of a bed in the grand estate they’d taken you to, your virgin blood still staining the sheets, or the little of it that they hadn’t lapped up for themselves to savour.

Though the restless one before you had stirred you for another taste, Steve was still sleeping like a rock. He was laying directly behind you, his burly chest still pressed up against your spine as earlier, when he’d impulsively tried to stretch out your ass, made the decision to do something about that impossible tightness and have that little hole warm his intimidating girth while he slumbered. It made it difficult, to say the least, for rest to come to you as the sensation of his fat cock plugging you up was nearly too much for you to bear.

“Oh, what is it?” Bucky chuckled lowly at the wince you let out as he began to nudge his dick against your puffy pussy, “are you sore?” he asked in a mocking tone, grinning wider as you nodded hazily in response, “but you like it, don’t you?” he torturously tapped the weight of his length against the creamy mess between your thighs, the sensation causing both your holes to throb and clench, making Steve’s cock still embedded deep within you seem that much more enormous, “you like it when it hurts, when the sting of pain mixes with pleasure…” he then caught your eye and compelled you, “tell me that you like it.”

“I like it,” you hear the desperate word flow out your lungs, “please don’t stop, please keep hurting me, keep biting me, drink every drop of my blood, use me however you wish, it all feels so good–, ah!” the pleas he’d made you utter were then cut off by a rippling moan as his bulbous tip suddenly caught your entrance and greedily slid back into your warmth.

The fierce rhythm Bucky swiftly found rocked you so roughly that the movements didn’t just split your poor pussy open as he bucked up into you, but it also caused your frame to shift back against Steve and sink you down that much further on his cock, letting his heavy sack nuzzle tightly against your slick skin.

As your whimpers filled the room and mingled with Bucky’s own grunts of pleasure, you felt the girth in your ass twitch and rapidly grow painfully hard before the arm the slumbering bloodsucker had slumped around your waist tightened as he stirred with a low rumble directly in your ear.

“Mmm… having a little midnight snack, are we?” Steve groggily hummed from behind you as he nuzzled his nose into your tousled hair, “you know she’ll pass out soon if we keep drinking like this.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bucky then slid his palm down the length of your arm, plucking up your hand till his lips ghosted against it. However, just as you let yourself hope that he’d just plant a peck upon your palm, his teeth instead pierced the flesh, right below your thumb. Although, the vampire did show some restraint as he only offered you a little nip before ripping your hand away from his mouth and holding it out for his partner to grasp, “here, you look parched,” blood already began to pool like a little puddle in your palm from how it slowly oozes out of the wound.

Accepting the delicacy, Steve first dragged his silky tongue over the bite, before he let his fangs sink into you with a deep groan, the taste of you only making him harder. As he began to drink from your palm, his hips greedily began to rock, making you tremble between the two lords of the night from the dizzying manner they both now fucked you.

As your moans filled the night air, Bucky’s fingers found your face in a caress before he leaned in to snuff out your sounds and let you taste the tangy iron of yourself on his tongue. Soon, his kisses began to dance down over the column of your neck, till his face was buried in your heaving tits, leaving a blossoming trail of hickeys to mark his path as he moved down to capture your nipple between his lips.

“I know we usually only keep our dinner till the morning comes,” Bucky muttered as he nipped at your boobs, only pausing to briefly glance over your shoulder at the man behind you, “but there’s something different about this one, don’t you agree, Steve?”

“She’s fucking delicious…” you heard him purr in your ear, “maybe you could be more than just a quick bite to eat…” both of their cocks continued to rock in harmony, filling your holes up to more than the brim, “maybe you can be our girl…”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you tilted your head to catch both of their eyes, “for how long?”

Keeping his neck tilted, Bucky blinked up at you and uttered, “…forever,” before he buried his teeth into the soft peak of your tit.

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plutoswritingplanet · 10 months ago

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),

Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.

Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)

The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children.

- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.

- Actually, I think that was Gurney...

- You've never denied it!

And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today.

Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.

Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.

Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.

Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed.

He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.

The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.

- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.

- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.

For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.

- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me.

Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you, your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers.

He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige.

- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.

Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.

- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.

To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.

- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.

- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.

- I think you're fucking terrifying.

- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.

Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him.

***

The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some.

Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.

The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable.

You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile.

She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place.

- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.

The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.

- Stop that.

Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea, than a light-hearted scolding.

- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".

You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.

Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.

- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.

A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here.

Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you.

Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed.

He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost.

- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.

There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk.

Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim.

Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize.

You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?

With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.

***

You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you.

It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.

- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence.

The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips.

- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.

But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.

You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.

Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.

And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider.

The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here.

At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.

It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with.

You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat.

The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet.

Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls.

Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.

- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.

A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast.

There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue.

- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.

He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.

- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.

The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.

- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.

The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you.

- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...

- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.

Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.

- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.

- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!

He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.

- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.

- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.

You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins.

He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.

- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.

Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands.

- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?

He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.

- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...

He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.

- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.

The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant.

- You're disgusting.

- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely.

Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.

Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.

A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #feyd rautha smut #dune smut #dune x reader #he looks insane what the hell am i writing

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ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral · 5 months ago

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And I'm back with Part 3 of the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au! Thank you all so much for your patience and continued support for this story! It makes me so happy to see people get excited by my silly (and occasionally delusional) au ideas!

NOTE: You can find part 1 here and part 2 here.

EDIT: And you can find part 4 here!

And without further ado, onto the new stuff!

It was rather drafty in the lesser furnished cells of the dungeons. Merlin knew this well, as he had spent many nights during his first couple of years in Camelot trying and failing to get any sleep on the cold stone floors of those cells, kept awake by the freezing chill that would sweep through the dungeons at any given moment.

Merlin also knew that Arthur had never been kept in one of those cells, even on the rare occasions that Uther had him locked up for going against his orders. Whenever Arthur had to be put in the dungeons, he had been put in the fully furnished cells, meant for prisoners who were members of noble families.

Even when they were held in the same dungeon, the nobles and the peasants were subjected to wildly different experiences.

With that in mind, Merlin stopped by Arthur's chambers (or... were they his chambers now? Merlin certainly didn't want to think about that.) to grab Arthur's favorite blanket off of his bed. It was a luxuriously soft blanket, dyed a rich Pendragon red. That blanket was fit for a king and a pain for a manservant to wash, but Merlin had always taken good care of the blanket, knowing how much Arthur liked it.

Merlin folded up the thick blanket with meticulous care, ignoring both his own trembling hands, rendered unsteady by the volatile emotions welling up in him, and Gwaine's presence behind him, silent for once. Despite Gwaine's undying loyalty and penchant for mischief landing Merlin in an even worse situation than before, he seemed to understand the solemnity of Merlin's actions and the profound sense of grief over the life he had lived once before that had been so suddenly torn away from him.

The motions of carefully folding up the blanket filled Merlin with both comforting familiarity and near-crippling sorrow. Would he ever do this again, ever provide support and comfort for Arthur again? As much as Merlin wished to stay optimistic, even if his plan to reinstate Arthur as the rightful king of Camelot succeeded, the darkest corners of his mind hissed that Arthur would never tolerate his presence again, let alone trust him, after usurping him and, in Arthur's eyes, proving everything Uther had ever said about sorcerers to be true.

Merlin's heart plummeted, nearly stopping him in his track towards the dungeon entirely, at the mere thought of what Arthur must think of him now: a treacherous, conniving sorcerer who had manipulated Arthur into becoming his friend only to betray him. Merlin blinked, banishing his tears before they could roll down his face and fall onto the blanket in his arms, and forced his feet to keep moving steadily forward. No matter what Arthur thought of him now, how deeply Merlin has unintentionally wounded his friend, or how catastrophically Merlin's world felt like it was crumbling down around him, he needed to set things right.

Merlin clung desperately to that conviction, the thrumming need to set things right again, as everything else in him wanted to curl up in a dark corner and never move again. After an eternity and yet all too soon, Merlin descended past the gates of the dungeon, where he forbade Gwaine from following him any further, down the noble cell blocks, which were filled with sleeping, but thankfully uninjured knights, and finally through the dark, damp, empty, and cold peasant cells.

He couldn't see Arthur at first, but his magic sensed that he was here. Like always, it jumped, tugging on Merlin to act, whenever Arthur was nearby, causing Merlin to pause his step in order to focus on whatever his magic was attempting to do. This time, it tugged his attention towards the unlit torches lining the walls of the cell block. Light them, his magic seemed to beg of him, our king is cold!

Merlin's immediate reaction was to stop his magic, to push it down so that no one would notice, and, after a deep breath, he did just that. As Merlin stood still, holding Arthur's blanket in his arms and cherishing what would likely be the last few seconds that he could ignore what had happened over the last day and pretend that everything was normal, he heard the voice that he'd been both yearning and dreading to hear for the past day coming from the cell at the very end of the dungeon.

"If you're waiting to sneak up on me, you'll have to try harder than that. I can hear that neither magic nor a crown have made you any more stealthy, Merlin."

Merlin flinched backwards, expecting but yet somehow still unprepared for how much vitriol and bitterness Arthur hissed out his name with. He had heard Arthur yell out his name in variety of tones over the years, ranging from annoyed to bemused to downright furious, but he had never heard his name pass from Arthur's lips like this, spat out from his mouth like it was poisonous and vile. It caused so much hurt to well up in Merlin's chest that he felt it like a bruising punch, causing him to wince in pain, still hiding where Arthur could not see him.

As Merlin stood silently, only a few steps away from Arthur's cell and facing Arthur's well-deserved fury, and tried to desperately blink away the tears gathering in his eyes, his magic abruptly tugged his attention towards the torches again, more insistent this time. Letting out a stuttering breath, Merlin obliged with his magic's request this time, and the torches lining the walls burst into bright, golden flames in an instant, filling the cells with a merry warmth that felt entirely out of place.

Merlin heard a sharp gasp coming from Arthur's cells as soon as the torches lit up by themselves and winced. Right, Arthur was fresh off of Merlin's betrayal, so he was probably pretty jumpy, especially around magic.

Merlin's guilt rose alongside his frustration. Everything he does with his magic, he does it for Arthur, and yet every single damned time it backfires on him and somehow hurt Arthur! A spell meant to heal his father kills the king instead. A battle waged to ensure his continued reign steals his sovereignty instead. And lit torches meant to provide him with warmth and comfort scares him instead!

But before even more guilt could build up inside of him, Merlin heard Arthur's voice once more.

"I won't be scared by a coward of a sorcerer who would steal everything from the man he claimed to serve! Or is the great Emrys too important to even face the fool he tricked into believing that he was his friend?"

Before Merlin's mind could even process Arthur's words, his feet were already carrying him to the end of the hallway, right to the front of Arthur's cell. He needed to prove Arthur wrong here, their years of friendship weren't a lie or a trick, Arthur needed to believe that! Too much of Merlin's life, his very soul, was woven into his bond with Arthur, he couldn't let Arthur have any doubt that their bond was even real!

As he finally arrived at the door to the cell that held Arthur, Merlin's heart stuttered again, this time with grief. Based on the ferocity in his voice, Merlin had expected to see Arthur pressed up against the bars, ready to battle his perceived opponent. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of Arthur, sitting alone on the dirty stone floor, his face wearing the same dejected and defeated look it had just days earlier, after Morgana had taken the citadel and Arthur doubted his own ability to rule his people. The only difference was that the lost look in Arthur's eyes from before was gone, replaced by a scornful glare that had Merlin feeling like he was the scum of the earth.

Merlin opened his mouth, ready to apologize, plead for forgiveness, whatever it took to just stop Arthur from looking at him like that, like Merlin was his enemy, but no words could form in his mouth, as too many emotions were welling up in his chest that it closed off his throat entirely. Merlin drew in a deep, fortifying breath, purposefully avoiding eye contact with a still-glaring Arthur the entire time. Once he felt like he had his feelings even marginally under some tenuous control, he finally met Arthur's gaze and held out the blanket like a pathetic peace offering.

"I brought you your blanket. I know it gets cold down here."

Merlin was rather proud that his voice only wavered slightly, not giving an indication of how disastrously close he was to breaking down into tears in the middle of the dungeons. Arthur merely stared at him for a moment, bewilderment appearing on his face for a few seconds before it was quickly wiped away by angry sneer.

"I don't accept gifts from the likes of you, sorcerer! It's probably cursed or enchanted to kill me so that you can finally get me out of your way for good!"

"No!"

The blanket fell to the floor as Merlin grasped the bars of the cell with both hands and pulled himself as close as he could to Arthur, who had flinched back at Merlin's outburst. His magic flared again, wanting to break down this barrier between them so that he could get closer to Arthur, but he denied its request, knowing that such an action would only agitate Arthur even more.

"Arthur, please, I never meant for any of this to happen! You must believe me! I only wanted to for Camelot to be safe from Morgana and for you to retake the throne! I only want to secure your reign, not end it!"

That, it seemed, finally got a reaction out of Arthur, but it wasn't the one Merlin was hoping for. Arthur finally stood up from the floor and stormed over to the cell door, getting close to Merlin, but just out of reach.

"And why on earth should I trust a word you say?! You've done nothing but lie to me for years, even when I gave you my complete trust! I thought you were my closest friend, the one person in my life who would never betray me, but as it turns out, I never even knew your real name, much less where your true loyalties lie!"

Merlin's face fell at Arthur's accusations, knowing that he was, in some ways, completely right in them. Still, he met Arthur's accusing glare with as much honesty as he could. After all that his own actions had taken from Arthur, he owed him the truth at the very least. Merlin spoke again, trying to muster up a calm, soothing tone despite his strong emotions.

"I know that you don't have much reason to trust what I say now, but I will do all that I can take make this right. I was born with magic, yes, but I was born this way for a purpose, and that purpose is you, Arthur. I am Emrys, destined to be the guardian of the Once and Future King, who will rule over the greatest kingdom history has ever known and bring peace the likes of which has never been seen throughout the land."

Merlin could see the moment of realization on Arthur's face as he put together who exactly the Once and Future King was, his eyes going wide with shock. Despite the situation, Merlin has just a bit of a smile on his face as he reminisced on fond memories.

"When I first met you, I just couldn't understand how such a prattish clotpole could ever be a king of legend, but the longer I stayed by your side, the more I could see the king that you were destined to become. A great man, a great leader, who will always stand up to protect his people, even if it means putting himself in danger."

Merlin's speech trailed off as he smiled gently at Arthur, trying desperately to give him reason to believe Merlin, to believe in the prophecy that tied them together, and, above all, to believe in himself.

To Merlin's surprise, he could see Arthur confusion melting into... something. It looked like something along the lines of hope or awe, which gave Merlin hope in return. But just as quickly as it was there, Arthur's expression shifted again to a frustrated anger.

"Even if what you're saying isn't some trick, your little bedtime story is wrong anyways! I can't be the Once and Future King if I'm not even a king in the first place!"

Merlin sighed deeply, knowing that they'd get to this point eventually. He had a plan, but would Arthur ever agree to it?

"I've tried! I tried to simply order the council to make you king again, but they won't do it! Geoffrey stopped me with some old laws that Bruta wrote! He said that I can't abdicate the throne to you because you're no longer legally a nobleman."

Arthur eyes widened frantically at the mention of Bruta's laws, his breathing picking up with panic. He backed up from the bars of the cell and began pacing around.

"Bruta's code, damn it, I forgot that they applied in these situations! Wait..."

His eyes snapped back to Merlin, looking red-rimmed and on the verge of tears. His voice, which was so full of fire mere seconds ago, now sounded hollow. Merlin's hope wilted upon seeing Arthur like this, and his magic flared again, still wanting to destroy the barrier between them.

"This means that the Pendragon house is no longer recognized, doesn't it?"

Merlin could only nod, unsure of what he could do to comfort Arthur. At Merlin's confirmation, Arthur took a shaky breath, trying to collect himself from the inner turmoil that he was surely experiencing.

"Everything... I've lost everything."

Merlin gave Arthur what he hoped was his most comforting smile, but it didn't do much for Arthur's hopeless disposition. After a small sigh, Merlin spoke again in a soft, comforting voice.

"Arthur, all is not lost. I have a way to make you king again! We just have to make you a noble again, and then I can abdicate the throne to you! And luckily for both of us, there's an easy way to make a peasant a nobleman quickly! And you should know, you wrote it into the laws yourself!"

Arthur blinked at him, not comprehending what Merlin had said for a couple seconds, before a sliver of hope showed on his face. However, as soon as it was there, it was gone again, once more replaced by anger and betrayal. Arthur quickly stormed over to the cell door, this time reaching the door itself and wrapping his hands around the bars so that he could yell in Merlin's face.

"I knew it! This was a trick!"

"What are you talking about? How would me knighting you and then giving you back your throne be a trick?!"

"You would have me swear on oath of fealty to you, which would legally, and for all I know magically, put me under your command! This was all just another plot to control me, wasn't it?!"

"Oh come on, you wouldn't have to mean it when you take the oath! You'd just have to say the words and then let me abdicate!"

"So now sacred oaths of loyalty are nothing but empty words to you?!"

"Gods, you really can't make anything easy for the both of us, can you, you prat! I'm just trying to give you your crown back!"

"You would have me disrespect the sacred oaths of knighthood! I would never swear an oath of fealty to you! It is a sacred bond of trust, which is apparently something that you know nothing about, Emrys!"

Merlin flinched back, still unused to Arthur saying the name given to him by the druids, much less hissed out in anger. Merlin backed away from the cell door and took a deep breath, trying to find some solution to this mess.

"So, I take it that you would not accept a knighthood from me?"

"Never."

Merlin sighed again, his eyes drifting around the dungeons as he tried to think of a different way to make Arthur a nobleman. Eventually, his eyes drifted back towards Arthur, who was still holding onto the bars of the cell door. As Merlin looked at Arthur, pondering any solution that he could possibly come up with, a metallic flash caught Merlin's eye, drawing it to Arthur's left hand.

There, the torchlight was reflecting off of Ygraine's ring, the one that Arthur rarely ever took off. Merlin was glad that Arthur still had it with him after everything that had just happened to provide some comfort, but it still didn't present Merlin with any solutions...

Wait.

Oh no.

Swallowing thickly, Merlin called out to Arthur again.

"Arthur, do you know of any, any other ways to elevate a peasant to the status of a noble?"

"I'm afraid not. Me granting knighthoods to peasants was the first legal opportunity for peasants to elevate their stations. There is no other way."

Merlin closed his eyes and tried to hold back his frustration. He wouldn't have to resort to that, surely?

"And you've really thought this through, Arthur? If you don't accept a knighthood, I don't think that there's any other way that I can legally make you a noble again, much less the king. Are you really prepared to go the rest of your life as a peasant with no title, no lands, no riches, nothing?"

Merlin could see that his words gave Arthur pause, forcing him to at least reconsider Merlin's offer. Merlin internally pleaded with Arthur to please don't be an idiot, just take the offer!

Finally, Arthur seemed to have reached his decision, as he glared at Merlin once again with conviction.

"I might be forced to live out my days as a peasant, but at least I'll be a peasant with my honor and integrity intact."

Merlin was, at this point, sorely tempted to bash his head into the stone wall behind him. Why, why did this clotpole have to make his life so difficult?!

Merlin gave a heavy sigh as he nodded, accepting Arthur's decision. Arthur looked rather smug about Merlin conceding to him, which he wouldn't be feeling if he knew exactly what Merlin had in mind as his contingency plan.

"Very well then. You've made it clear that you won't willingly take this one opportunity for me to give you your throne back. But make no mistake, you are the Once and Future King. This is your destiny, and I will see that it comes to pass, no matter what I have to do. I know that it might be unfair, but I only ask that you forgive me for what I do next. Please remember, everything I do, I do for you and the kingdom that you're destined to build."

Arthur's expression had gone from smug to confused to concerned very quickly, but Merlin didn't acknowledge the slight fear that had appeared on Arthur's face. Instead, he carefully pushed Arthur's blanket, which had been lying at the foot of the cell door, through the bars, ensuring that Arthur could grab it.

After that, Merlin turned on his heel and walked out of the now silent dungeons, his footsteps sounding authoritative and ominous as they echoed off of the stone walls.

Despite his measured footsteps, Merlin's mind was moving at sprinter's pace, trying to plan out everything that would need to be done in the coming days. The first thing that he definitely needed to do was let the steward know that he needed to plan a wedding on short notice.

After all, it wasn't uncommon for conquerors to marry their war prizes.

I hope you all enjoyed this continuation! Were you right in your guess as to what Merlin had in mind at the end of part 2? Please let me know if you'd like another part of this story!

I'll try to tag everyone who asked for a part 3 here. Thank you all for your support!

@magic-mushroomss @miyriu @whole-buncha-snakess @achillesuwu @aerismoon

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms @marki9 @isaidno @retro-wallflower @samwinjester

@lascienzadellafantasia @sugar-coated-prat-dragon @theoldfroglady @ryeallytired @mind-of-a-crow

@whynotreinventmyselfeveryday @likeapaperplane @odinjm @orliththedragon @aglmry

@caraspud @aostrek-236 @justaz @slippysalt @coffee-shop-gay

@the-king-and-the-druidess @theroundbartable @fanfic-library-for-me @linotheghost @scuttlingsleipnir

@guiltyscarlet

And, as always, than you for reading through my ramblings! :D

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merlin au #merthur #merlin prompts #king merlin

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chososprettyprincess · 5 months ago

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» synopsis - ⟡⋆˙ sukuna who can’t help but breed his concubine.

» contents - ⟡⋆˙ sukuna’s a TEASE & a hard dom, squirting, creampie, sukuna calls the reader degrading names LIKE A BUM 😒, slight oral? m! receiving, penetration, breeding kink, unprotected sex, true form sukuna + heian era sukuna

» warnings - ⟡⋆˙ sexual themes.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ⟡ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"uraume." sukuna calls out for his servant as she gives him a glance.

"please go get my concubine." he ordered loudly but uraume stayed unshaken as she nodded.

"yes master."

you walked into his big, dark chambers just to see him with only his loincloth on laying on the bed.

he laid there on his back, resting his eyes as they slowly opened once you came in the room.

sukuna sat up sighing as all 4 of his arms were crossed. "you took long enough." he stated as he got up and walked towards you.

"undress." he simply stated and walked back to the bed and sat there as you climbed onto the bed.

he watched in amusement and coldness as you undid your kimono as he leaned on his elbow.

"mhmm, my sweet concubine's smell is so intoxicatinggg." he draggged the word before pulling you closer as he licked his lips.

you were silent the whole time as he smiled wickedly and was now on top of you, the masochist slut in you couldn't help but be turned on.

he lifted his loincloth as he was hovered over you, his leaking tip presented before you.

"clean me." he stated as you didn’t waste no time opening your mouth and licking his cock clean from pre-cum.

he smirked, "good girl.” he said as he placed a soft kiss on your temple before moving down and spreading your legs.

"ive neglected you huh?" sukuna stared at your dripping and twitching core as he gave your pussy a harsh slap.

"speak." his smirk had already faded as he stared at you with that cold look as you quickly nodded.

"you always choose other concubines over, my lord.." you said as he just chuckled darkly.

"thats because you don't deserve my attention at times." he sighed and rubbed his tip over your core.

"although, i prefer you over them. you dont speak to much, i might even make you my wife." he chuckled and licked his lips.

"mhm, ill breed you. you'll carry my heir okay? your the only one worthy too, my dear concubine."

he smiled darkly and started at a slow pace.

you felt so warm inside as he stretched you as you could see the bulge in your stomach and all.

he let out a groan as he slowly sink into your heat as your eyes rolled back into your skull as he quickly put you in a mating press.

"cmonn, stay with me now" he teased as he slammed into you hard making your eyes shot open. "mhm, thats more like it."

sukuna said as he continued to fuck the SHIT out of you.

his form was so sloppy yet so aggressive and firm as he groaned like a animal and kept shoving his cock into you, deeper and deeper.

meanwhile, you were in a whole different universe with all this pleasure.

he always made you go dumb on his cock.

"fuckk.. you whore, you want to have my heir desperately, hm?" sukuna asked, when you didn't respond, he shoved even deeper into your slick hole.

"respond." he said as you nodded quickly. "i do, i do- my lord- im gonna-" you said as he just smiled.

"so quickly? you must've been desperate, whore" he said and chucked. your release came gushing out as you wet the sheets under you.

"filthy whore" he said not giving you a break as he overstimulated you as he moaned out and whined from pleasure.

all those moans and sweet sounds coming from you mouth were getting him closer and closer by the minute.

"you want my seed bad? how bad?" he teased as he gritted his teeth to keep in a moan.

you nodded as he smiled and shoved even deeper, kissing your womb.

he groaned and let out deep moans.

you felt ropes- no, gallons of his seed filling you up as some of it leaked onto the bed.

he slowly pulled out, exhaling as you were laying there panting as he had his hand on your cheek as he called out.

"uraume!" he called out to his servant outside the room as she answered calmly.

"go alert the followers, my— no our heir will soon be born."

sukuna stated smiling as his eyes glowed in the dark.

#jujutsu kaisen #chososprettyprincess #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jujutsu ryomen #sukuna #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #my sexy man

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flowerandblood · 6 months ago

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Sacrifices (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, virginity loss, oral sex, smut, fluff, sexual tension, obsession ]

[ description: Finally, after months of waiting, his beloved, younger sister becomes his wife. The task that awaits him as an older brother is not to cause her pain during the beautiful act in which they will finally become one. ]

Part 4 (the last) of the Appearances, it can be read as standalone story.

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Don't be afraid, hāedar (little sister)."

This was easier said than done.

The day of their nuptials, although it was the fulfilment of their dreams and hopes, was also a time full of terror and humiliation for them.

Aegon made sure to speak his thoughts aloud about how his younger brother would not be able to please his sister and that it was him she should give her wedding night to.

"With one eye, he won't even know where to put it." Aegon sneered, taking a deep sip from his cup. Their mother gave him a quick, rebuking glance.

"Aegon. That is enough."

The humiliation he felt burned his loins like fire, however, what really frightened him was her pale face, her hands clenched on her beautiful green dress, the field flowers pinned into her hair.

She looked so beautiful and innocent that he was afraid to touch her, barely brushing her tiny, delicate hands as they danced.

He hated courtly courtesy, and the steps he had to take to the rhythm of the music seemed forced and clumsy, yet he was doing it for her, just for her.

Although it was their wedding day, she was sad and tired.

To his joy, with the help of his mother, he managed to dissuade his brother and his friends from participating in their intimate act. When the chamber door closed behind them, they were left alone.

He was relieved when her body clung to his: it was not a gesture of desire, but of fear and uncertainty, as if she had been waiting for hours and could not do it because it would be indecent behaviour.

Embracing her husband.

She was his wife.

"Lēkia (big brother)." She muttered, sinking into his linen white shirt, her body covered only by her nightgown.

His arms involuntarily embraced her petite figure, sinking her face into his chest, her scent, her closeness making him feel a pleasant warmth in his stomach.

"I'm here. No one's going to hurt you." He whispered, his full lips placing a loud, soft kiss on the top of her head.

Gods, how he loved her.

Her, only her.

Love was a weakness and he knew it, and she was the only person he wanted and needed to be vulnerable in front of.

"Are you afraid?" She asked involuntarily, looking up at him with her big, dark eyes that she had inherited from their mother.

His broad hand rose to her plump cheek and stroked her skin with his thumb, looking at her with his lips parted, feeling a squeeze in his heart.

What should he answer?

What if she thought he was weak, that Aegon was right?

That he wouldn't be able to please her?

"What do you mean?" He muttered, looking into the depths of her dark, shining eyes.

"Have you ever lain with a woman? Before our betrothal. You can tell me, I'll understand." She whispered in a trembling voice, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

He didn't know if it was a good idea to tell her, but he didn't want to begin their marriage with a lie.

"I did, issa dōna rūklon (my sweet flower). Once. It was Aegon's idea, not mine. On my thirteenth Name Day." He choked out with difficulty, feeling shame and fear at the thought that she might have rejected him, found him disgusting, unworthy of her affection.

She nodded, to his surprise looking as if she felt relieved, her trembling hand found his, their fingers intertwined in a soft, tender embrace.

"You promised me that from this day to the end of your days you would be mine alone." She whispered, and he nodded, feeling his erection swell and pulse in his breeches at her words, reminding him of the vow they had made to each other in the Great Sept.

"Yes, sweet sister. I am yours and you are mine." He sighed, leaning over her, in some natural, simple reflex, letting their lips cling to each other in a soft, warm kiss.

They both purred with contentment, carefully grasping each other's cheeks in their hands, stroking the skin of their faces with their fingers, letting their wet, rough tongues lick tentatively with the quiet click of their saliva.

"– ah – mmm –" She hummed as one of his arms hugged her waist, forcing her body to slam against his, his impatient cock pushing against her belly.

"– can you feel it, hāedar? –" He exhaled, looking down between their bodies, watching the bulge under the material of his breeches pressing against her body. "– can you feel what you're doing to me? – how much I crave to feel you? –"

She looked at him with a hazy, dreamy, hot gaze from which he felt a squeeze in his lower abdomen, her glistening, puffy lips parted wide.

"– I want it, brother – make it feel good –" She whispered, and he needed no more encouragement. She squealed in surprise, throwing her arms around his shoulders as he lifted her up, holding her beneath her buttocks, walking with her towards their large marital bed now standing in his chamber.

"– easy, little one – easy –" He murmured with a smile, touched by her innocent, involuntary behaviour, in the candlelight seeing how much her cheeks had blushed with emotion.

"– will it hurt, Aemond? – mum said it would –" She muttered as he laid her down on the soft, clean bedding, apparently revealing to him at last the reason for her sadness and anxiety all day.

He sighed heavily, climbing onto the bed, reading dozens of books before their wedding just to make sure he did everything he could to spare her suffering.

"– there's a thin wall inside you that I'm going to have to break – during this moment, you'll be able to feel discomfort and sting, but when it's behind us, I swear you'll feel nothing but pleasure –" He whispered in a trembling voice, spreading her thighs in front of him, letting the material of her nightgown expose her bare thighs.

She blinked, looking at him in disbelief, surprised, apparently, by his extensive knowledge on the subject, and breathed out quietly, as if trying to relax.

"– we'll start with what's familiar to you – we need to make you wet and willing for your brother – hm? –" He murmured, cocking his head, trailing his hands from her knees to her thighs. She nodded quickly, wriggling impatiently, clearly now more excited than frightened, shivering on her skin in the places where he ran his palms.

A sweet sigh of surprise left her lips as he drew her closer to him and leaned in, sinking his face into her heat: her folds were pink and swollen, soft and tender as silk. His sister smelled of bath, of fragrant oils and herself, of her own sweat – he murmured at the thought, the tip of his tongue running over her small, swollen bud, making her fingers clench in his hair, her head thrown back.

"– lēkia –" She mewled, rolling her hips back and forth, impatient, wanting more and harder. He, however, decided to take his time and explore her womanhood, the space around her pearl, her tight slit, which he teased with slow, lazy flicks of his tongue.

He felt the taste of her moisture on his tongue and grinned under his breath as he listened to her moans, feeling her body writhing before him in convulsions, his fingers digging warningly into the plush structure of her thigh.

"– lay still –" He hissed, finally forcing his tongue between her fleshy, hot walls, licking and rubbing the small spot just above her opening, teasing her bud with his nose, all swollen from his caresses.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She sobbed in front of him, chasing her peak, but he knew he couldn't let her come.

Not yet.

He stopped his treatments and raised himself up on his elbows, looking at her with satisfaction, wiping his face with his hand. Her long, dark hair was spread around her head, her lips parted wide in a heavy breath, her gaze hot and full of desire.

"– I want more – husband –" She mumbled, and he sighed and nodded, sliding the material of his breeches lower, releasing his hard, long manhood, dripping from his precum.

Husband.

"– show me your breasts, sweet wife –" He commanded, and she drew in a loud breath and quickly slid the material of her nightgown off her shoulders, revealing her bare chest to him.

Something about her appearance, about how different she was from Madam, aroused him even more – her plump breasts with their sweet, hard nipples were more girlish, more innocent, more lovely.

His.

His hand squeezed his swollen cock at the base with sure, quick jerks as he leaned in, sinking and clamping his mouth on her little nipple, beginning to suck involuntarily as if he were a baby.

He had never heard her let out a similar moan before, so helpless and loud, her hands immediately pressed his face closer to her breast as if she wanted to melt into one with him.

"– b-brother – what are you – ah –" She mewled and shuddered as he directed the thick head of his cock against her leaking, hot slit and began to slowly push.

She gasped, throwing her head back, clearly not having known a similar sensation in her entire life – he opened her with difficulty and was met with resistance, her moan of discomfort telling him that this was the moment.

He released her breast and lifted himself up on his arm higher, to her face, wanting to look into her eyes, his nose pressed against her cheek.

"– I need to push harder now – this might hurt a little – spread your thighs wider – yes, just like that – ready? –" He asked and she nodded, her eyes big with desire and terror.

He cradled her head to the hollow of his neck, slid out a little and with one sure thrust hit something deep inside her, from which she cried out loudly and squealed in pain, her fingers tightening on the material of his shirt.

Fuck, he hadn't made it.

He had to do it again, harder.

"– just one more time – one more time and it will be over –" He whispered in a trembling voice, her walls almost painfully tight against his cock, clenching in panic.

He grasped her buttocks in his hands, pulling them apart with her whine of discomfort, and with one violent thrust he finally broke deeper into her warm interior. He felt her burst into sobs, her legs quivering all over in his embrace, her fingers clenched painfully hard against his skin.

"– stop – don't move – don't move –" She mumbled pleadingly, and he froze motionless, panting heavily, feeling the sting in his heart, for some reason feeling like crying himself. His lips placed warm, tender kisses on her temple and cheek, his broad hand simply stroking her hair, wanting to reassure her.

"– I know, I'm so sorry – I know I promised it would be easier – but the worst is behind us –" He promised, and she swallowed heavily, feeling how hard his erection pulsed inside her.

"– it still hurts –" She confessed, and he nodded.

"– we'll wait until it stops – we'll just embrace and kiss until the discomfort passes – hm? –" He asked in a shaky voice, afraid that she would reject him now, tell him to stop, that she didn't want to see him, that she would never let him touch her again.

She, however, nodded and looked at him with a trusting and affectionate gaze from which his lips, swollen with desire, melted with hers into one. They kissed loudly and unashamedly, their tongues dancing with each other deep in their throats, fighting for dominance, their hands stroking their hair and bodies.

Indeed, he felt her walls stop pressing so hard against him, her breathing calmed, tears of fear stopped flowing down her face. Tentatively, he slid deeper into her, and she only sighed, combing through his hair, without however uttering a word.

"– may I? –" He asked in a quivering voice, feeling his cock about to explode with desire. She looked up at him, her lips parted sweetly, her face all red from emotion and tears.

"– yes – just – be gentle – She mumbled, and he pressed his forehead against hers, with a low groan slowly and firmly sliding all the way into her. He looked at her face, at her eyelashes glistening from her tears, at her sweet red lips, and thought he had to do this to her.

"– sister –" He exhaled and began to pound into her, shyly and shallowly at first, thinking only of how tight, warm, wet she was, that he was just taking her maidenhood and her, what was rightfully his from the day she was born.

"– brother –" She muttered, throwing her head back, clearly feeling the opposite of discomfort at the moment.

"– 'm going to accelerate now –" He whispered, gripping her hips in his hands, imposing a sharp, fast rhythm on her, slamming into her the way he'd always dreamed of doing, the loud slaps of their skin building his way to fulfilment.

She moaned loudly, throwing her legs over his back, her hands on his neck pressed him closer, wanting to unite with him, to become one as they were always meant to be. They kissed passionately and deeply, then again and again as her hips began to rock, seeking a shared rhythm with him, her sweet little cunt began to squeeze him, soaking him all over.

"– ñuhon (mine) –" He exhaled between the aggressive, sticky, slick dance of their teeth and tongues, their bodies entwined in an aggressive, close embrace like a vine.

"– aōhon (yours) – iksan aōhon, lēkia (I'm yours, big brother), oh fuck, fuck, fuck! –" She cursed far too sweetly and innocently, throwing her head back in euphoria, going before his eyes through the kind of release she had never before experienced in his presence, the great wet spot under their buttocks making him lick his lips lustfully.

"– that's right – I intend to fulfil my duty to you as a husband every day, ābrazȳrys (wife) – ah – fuck, yes –" He sighed, feeling a tightening in his stones, only to feel a wonderful, stunning relief a moment later and finally fill her with his seed, as he had always been destined to do.

"– gods –" He exhaled, falling on top of her, their hands clenched on their bodies, refusing to let go, their breaths hitched and heavy, full of fulfilment.

"– I want to see you bare, valzȳrys (husband) –" She mumbled out in shame, and he hummed, for some reason pleased with her request.

At the thought that he hadn't discouraged her from their intimacy, that she wanted it as much as he did.

As he pulled off his shirt and breeches she slipped off the material of her nightgown, remaining unashamedly naked before him, sweet, beautiful, his.

His little sister.

He drew her to him, placing tender, loud kisses full of affection on her bare skin, her nimble fingers pulling at the ribbon material at the back of his head, releasing the front strands of his hair.

He looked at her and smiled, thinking with pride that he was her husband and she was his wife, that every night from that day until his death she would spend at his side, in his bed, bearing his children, his inheritance.

They clung to each other like little children, sinking into each other's embrace, stroking each other's naked bodies, kissing the skin of each other's sweaty faces, red with emotion, knowing that no one would ever separate them again.

Before the face of men and gods, they were one.

576 notes · View notes

sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 6 months ago

Note

I thought something about Marcus Acacius. He throws a party as a king where he calls some servants from the palace to dance for him, 4 girls, one of whom is the lucky one. The girl drives Marcus crazy with her movements and her gaze. And at the end of the dance when she collapses at his feet he gives her a handkerchief meaning she is called to have fun together in the bedroom. Before all that, for context, said servant is seen by Marcus in his room cleaning it, she being very shy and fragile in front of him. Since then, there has been an attraction between the two. pleaseeeeee😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

𝓟𝓞𝓦𝓔𝓡

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Summary: The moment Marcus saw you, he knew you had to be his.

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (Exploitation) SMUT, unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Implied age gap, Slight Voyeurism, Spitting, misogyny, cream pie, Oral

A/n: Okay, so I might make this a series. You'll see why ;)

The grand chamber of Marcus’s quarters stood in hushed elegance, the soft rustle of fabric and faint sounds of cleaning the only disturbances. You worked alongside Zera, the other maid, the sunlight filtering through ornate windows casting intricate patterns on the polished wooden floor. The scent of fresh linens mingled with the lingering hint of Marcus’s cologne, an omnipresent reminder of the man you served.

As you meticulously dusted the shelves, each deliberate movement betraying your nerves, you couldn't shake the unease. This was your first time in Marcus’s private quarters, and the stories you had heard about him made your hands tremble ever so slightly. Zera noticed your apprehension and gave you a reassuring smile, her experienced hands moving deftly over the surfaces, silently guiding you through the task.

Just as you smoothed the last crease on the bedspread, a sound behind you made your heart skip a beat—a throat clearing. You froze, breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned to face the source.

Marcus stood in the doorway, his presence commanding and intimidating. Tall, with a chiseled jawline and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you, his dark hair impeccably styled, he exuded an air of authority that made your pulse quicken.

"Good afternoon, ladies," he said, his voice smooth and authoritative. Zera immediately curtsied, and you followed suit, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Good afternoon, sir," you both murmured in unison.

He stepped further into the room, his gaze sweeping over the immaculate space. "I see you've been thorough," he remarked, a hint of approval in his tone. You dared a glance up and saw him looking directly at you. "What's your name?" he asked, his eyes holding yours captive.

"I-I'm..." you stammered, feeling incredibly small under his intense scrutiny. You gave him your name.

He repeated it, as if savoring the sound. "And what do you do here?"

"I'm a maid, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I help with cleaning and maintaining the household."

He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Good," he said. "I appreciate diligence and dedication. Keep up the good work."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment as he turned his attention to Zera, giving her a few more instructions. But then, unexpectedly, his gaze returned to you. "I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you," he said, his voice low and enigmatic.

Marcus then looked back to Zera. "Zera, how long has she been with us?" he asked, nodding in your direction.

Zera straightened up, her expression respectful but relaxed. "She's been with us for a few months now, sir. She's a quick learner and very diligent."

"I see," Marcus replied, his eyes flicking back to you. There was something in his gaze that made your pulse quicken—a mixture of curiosity and something more that you couldn't quite place.

He turned his full attention to you again. "There’s a gathering this evening," he said. "A small party. I hope to see you there."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me, sir?" you asked, hardly believing what you had just heard.

"Yes, you," he confirmed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'd like to get to know all the members of my household better."

Before you could muster a response, Marcus nodded once more, then turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him. You stood there, still processing the encounter, the electricity of his presence lingering in the air. Zera nudged you gently, a knowing smile on her face. "Looks like you've made an impression," she said softly.

Zera led you out into the corridor where two other maids, Lara and Anya, were waiting. They exchanged curious glances, having overheard part of the conversation.

"Did he just invite you to the party tonight?" Lara asked, eyes wide with excitement.

You nodded, still in a daze. "Yes, he did."

Anya clapped her hands together. "That's wonderful! You should feel honored. These parties are very exclusive."

You looked at them, puzzled. "What exactly happens at these parties?"

Zera smiled warmly. "It's a small, private gathering. Usually, it's just Marcus and a few close friends. Only four maids are selected to attend, and it's considered a great honor."

Lara added, "You'll be there to serve, but also to... entertain. It's a chance to be close to him, to get special attention."

Lara chuckled softly. "Remember the time he invited me to one of these parties? I was so nervous, but he was incredibly kind and made sure I was comfortable. He even gifted me a beautiful necklace afterward."

Anya nodded, her eyes dreamy. "I've attended twice. The first time, I was too shy to speak much, but the second time, I felt more at ease. Marcus has a way of making you feel like you're the only one in the room. He listens, really listens, and his attention is... intoxicating."

Zera's smile widened as she added her own experience. "When I was chosen, I was scared out of my wits. But Marcus was patient, always checking if I was okay. He even taught me how to dance that night. It felt like a fairy tale. And the privileges afterward were amazing—new clothes, better quarters, and a sense of being valued."

You listened, a mix of nerves and anticipation swirling within you. The way they spoke of Marcus, with such admiration and fondness, made your heart beat faster. The night ahead seemed both daunting and exciting.

Anya squeezed your hand gently. "You'll do great. Just remember, it's not just about serving him—it's about being present, enjoying the moment, and letting him see who you are."

Lara's eyes twinkled with excitement. "And who knows? Maybe you'll receive a beautiful gift too. He has a knack for choosing the perfect ones."

Zera's expression softened. "Just be yourself, and remember, we're here for you. If you ever feel overwhelmed, you can always come to us."

The anticipation hung thick in the air as the evening settled over Marcus’s grand estate. You joined the other four maids in the lavish hall, your nerves simmering beneath a façade of calm. Each of them was strikingly beautiful, their confidence making your insecurities rise. You felt like a shadow amidst their brilliance, the thought of standing among them in Marcus’s eyes filling you with a sense of inadequacy.

But Zera’s words echoed in your mind—just be yourself. With a deep breath, you resolved to do just that, hoping it would be enough.

The party began, an intimate gathering with Marcus at the center, surrounded by a few of his close friends. The maids, including you, served drinks and delicacies, moving gracefully around the room. You kept to the side for most of the night, watching the lively conversation and laughter. Marcus’s presence was magnetic, drawing everyone in, his every word and gesture commanding attention.

You were busy refilling a guest's glass when Marcus’s gaze landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat as he smiled, a slow, deliberate smile that sent a thrill down your spine. He beckoned you over with a casual wave of his hand.

You approached him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Yes, sir?" you asked, your voice steady despite your racing pulse.

"Enjoying the evening?" he inquired, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

"It's... lovely, sir," you replied, struggling to maintain your composure under his piercing gaze.

"Good," he said, his tone teasing. "I noticed you've been hiding in the shadows. Afraid to join the festivities?"

A smile tugged at your lips. "I didn't want to intrude, sir."

"Nonsense," he murmured, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "A beauty like you should never be in the background."

Your breath hitched at his words, the compliment washing over you like a warm wave. "Thank you, sir."

Marcus's gaze held yours, his eyes darkening with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. "Tell me," he continued, leaning in closer, "do you enjoy dancing?"

Your heart pounded in your chest. "Yes, sir."

A wicked smile curved his lips. "Good. I think it's time for some entertainment."

He turned to the room, his voice commanding as he addressed the guests. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe it's time for a dance."

The other maids gathered, their faces lighting up with excitement. Marcus's eyes flicked back to you, a challenge in his gaze. "Join us, won’t you?" he asked, though it was more of a command than a question.

You stepped forward, joining the other maids. The music began, a sultry melody filling the air. You moved in sync with the others, your body swaying to the rhythm, feeling Marcus's eyes on you the entire time.

As you danced, you felt a heady mix of nerves and exhilaration. The other maids were graceful, their movements confident and fluid. But you, despite your initial hesitance, found yourself lost in the music, your body moving instinctively, your eyes occasionally meeting Marcus's intense gaze.

The dance ended with a flourish, and the room erupted in applause. You stood there, breathless, your heart racing. Marcus's eyes never left you, a slow smile spreading across his face as he approached.

"Well done," he said, his voice low and smooth. "You have a natural grace."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Marcus's smile deepened, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, an intricate design of fine fabric. With a slow, deliberate movement, he offered it to you.

"For you," he said, his voice a mix of command and tenderness. "A small token of my appreciation."

You took the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against his as you did. The touch sent a jolt through you, and you could feel the eyes of the other guests on you, but all you could focus on was Marcus. "Thank you, sir," you said again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Keep it close. Tonight, after the guests have left, you will be summoned to my quarters. There are things we need to discuss."

Your heart raced at his words, the implication sending a thrill through you. "Yes, sir," you replied, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions inside you.

He straightened, his eyes still holding yours for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the party. "Enjoy the rest of the evening," he said, his tone returning to its earlier casualness.

You nodded, clutching the handkerchief tightly in your hand, the delicate fabric a reminder of what was to come. The rest of the evening passed in a blur, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of your impending meeting with Marcus. The other maids occasionally glanced your way, their expressions a mix of curiosity and envy.

Later, in the dim light of the maids’ quarters, you sat with your heart pounding, the evening’s events replaying in your mind. Zera and the others had already retired for the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the old building settling. Just as you began to wonder if you had misunderstood Marcus’s invitation, there was a knock on the door. You jumped, your heart leaping into your throat. You opened the door to find one of Marcus’s guards standing there, his expression unreadable.

"Marcus has requested your presence," he said simply.

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

The guard led you through the winding corridors of the grand estate, the flickering torchlight casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Your mind raced with possibilities, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you.

When you reached Marcus’s quarters, the guard stepped aside, allowing you to knock softly on the door.

"Enter," came Marcus's voice from within, smooth and commanding.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The warmth of the room and the familiar scent of Marcus’s cologne enveloped you. He stood by a table, a decanter and two glasses set upon it. His silhouette was framed by the moonlight streaming through the window, casting an ethereal glow around him.

"Close the door behind you," he instructed, his voice low and inviting.

You did as he asked, the soft click of the door closing sounding like a prelude to something monumental. Your heart raced as you stood there, feeling both vulnerable and empowered under his intense gaze.

"Come, sit," Marcus said, gesturing to a chair near the table.

You walked over, your steps measured and deliberate, and sat down. Marcus poured a rich, amber liquid into one of the glasses, then handed it to you.

"Drink," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You took the glass, the coolness of the glass contrasting with the warmth of your fingers. You brought it to your lips, the liquid smooth and heady as it slid down your throat. The warmth spread through you, calming your nerves.

Marcus poured himself a glass and took a sip, his eyes still locked on you. "I’ve noticed you," he said, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "You have a quiet grace about you, a determination."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.

"Tell me about yourself," he continued, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. "How did you come to work here?"

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "I came from a small village," you began, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. "I wanted to find a better life, to serve in a household like yours."

Marcus nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. "And what have you found here?"

"Opportunity," you replied honestly. "A chance to learn, to grow. The work is hard, but it’s rewarding."

He smiled, a slow, almost predatory smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "I admire your honesty," he said. "And your dedication."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "You’ve done well tonight," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "And I’d like to reward you."

Your breath hitched at his words, the promise in his tone making your heart race. "Thank you, sir," you managed to say, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Marcus's hand lingered on yours, his touch gentle yet commanding. "Do you enjoy serving me?" he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed.

"Yes, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I do."

He smiled, a slow, seductive smile that made your pulse quicken. "Good," he murmured. "Because I enjoy having you here."

He stood, his hand slipping from yours as he moved to stand behind you. You felt his presence, the heat of his body, the intoxicating scent of his cologne. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I want to see more of you, to know you better."

Your heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling within you. The reality of the situation settled in—you were not just any maid; you were standing before Marcus, your employer, a man whose power and authority were absolute. The need to impress him, to prove your worth, weighed heavily on you.

Marcus's hands rested lightly on your shoulders, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He slowly slid your tunic down, exposing your shoulders to the cool night air. His fingers brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You are beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "And so very intriguing."

You shivered at his words, your nerves mingling with a growing desire. "Thank you, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned you to face him, his eyes dark and intense as they roamed over you. "You seem nervous," he observed, his voice soft but commanding.

"I... I want to please you, sir," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and honesty.

Marcus's smile was slow and predatory, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "And you will," he said, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "But there's no need to be nervous. I already see something special in you."

He moved closer, his hands trailing down your arms, sending a shiver through you. "Relax," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tonight is about discovery."

You nodded, trying to steady your racing heart. His touch was both comforting and electrifying, his presence overwhelming yet thrilling. You felt his hands slide down your back, pulling you closer to him. The proximity made you acutely aware of every breath, every heartbeat.

Marcus's lips traced the curve of your neck, his touch gentle yet possessive. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice a tantalizing whisper, "what do you desire?"

The question caught you off guard, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. "I... I want to be valued, sir," you confessed, your voice trembling with vulnerability. "I want to be seen."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "You are valued," he said, his voice firm but tender. "And you are seen."

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a whirlwind of desire and emotion. His kiss deepened, his hands roaming over your body, exploring, claiming.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire. "You have a fire within you," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "A fire I intend to stoke."

His words sent a thrill through you, a promise of what was to come. You felt his hands slide to the hem of your tunic, lifting it slowly, his touch deliberate and tantalizing. The fabric slipped over your head, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his eyes roaming over you with a mix of admiration and desire. He stepped back, his own tunic falling to the floor, revealing the chiseled lines of his body. His gaze remained locked on you, filled with a raw, almost primal intensity that made your pulse quicken.

As he moved closer, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the magnetism that drew you in. He reached out, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving a path of fire in their wake. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper, "are you experienced?"

The question hung in the air, laden with implications. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, the vulnerability in your answer making you feel exposed. "Yes, sir," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

A flicker of something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Who was he?"

The question, more of a demand, sent a shiver through you. You hesitated, the memory of your past lover surfacing. "A man from my village," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But he means nothing to me now."

Marcus's grip on your arm tightened slightly, his possessiveness palpable. "Good," he growled softly, his breath hot against your skin. "Because from now on, you belong to me."

The intensity of his words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I want to see you touch yourself," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

Your breath caught in your throat, the request both shocking and tantalizing. You hesitated, your eyes searching his for reassurance. His expression softened slightly, a hint of encouragement in his gaze. "Show me," he urged, his voice a seductive murmur. "I want to see how you pleasure yourself."

With trembling hands, you reached down, your fingers skimming over your own skin. Marcus stopped you mid-motion, pushing you onto a plush couch in the room. He loomed over you, an imposing force, as you began to trace delicate lines across your chest, down to your stomach, and even lower. You delicately traced the lips of your pussy, collecting the small amount of wetness beginning to grow. It wasn’t enough friction, so you brought your hand to your mouth and sucked on two fingers softly before bringing them down to circle your clit in sweet and deliberate circles.

Your mouth formed a soft "O" at the feeling, as your movements brought a soft look and feel of pleasure to your body.

“Have you ever been tasted?” The question caught you off guard, and your hand stopped.

“Tasted?” you echoed.

He chuckled. “Yes, tasted.”

He got onto his knees. “What’s that?” you questioned.

He smirked and spread your legs. “Allow me to show you.”

He peppered soft kisses on your thighs before spitting on your clit, making you moan. But even the moan was cut off as his warm mouth began attacking your body. You felt his tongue flick and suck everything he could. You’d never moaned so loudly in your life. He was devouring your pussy, kissing and biting it with an intensity that made you writhe.

You couldn’t sit still. You covered your mouth and whimpered. “Already this wet for me, huh?” he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “Spread yourself for me, baby.”

Your chest was heaving as you moved your trembling hands to comply. You spread yourself open, the vulnerability making the moment even more intense. Marcus’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, before diving back in. His tongue was relentless, swirling around your clit, teasing and torturing you with expert precision. You could feel every flick, every stroke, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with a ferocity that left you gasping. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

Marcus pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I want you to come for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

His words were your undoing. With a cry, you shattered, the orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body trembled, your muscles contracting as the pleasure washed over you. Marcus continued to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of your climax until you were spent, lying limp and boneless on the couch.

He moved up your body, his lips finding yours in a deep, possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of the moment making your head spin. “You taste incredible,” he murmured against your lips. “I could do that all night.”

You shivered at his words, the promise of more to come making your pulse quicken. “Thank you, sir,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that sent a thrill through you. “You’re welcome, my sweet. But we’re not done yet. I want to see everything you have to offer.”

He pulled your legs to be flush against his thighs, his strength and control undeniable. You finally dared to look at him in all his glory, and the sight took your breath away. His dick was huge and intimidating, with a slight tilt to the left. The mere sight of it made your heart race, a mix of fear and anticipation swirling within you.

With a deliberate slowness, he rubbed his dick up and down your slick entrance, coating it in your orgasm. The sensation was almost too much, making you gasp and writhe beneath him.

Then, he began to press into you, the thick head of his cock stretching you in a way that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. The pressure, the fullness, it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“OH FUCK, MARCUS,” you cried out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

He chuckled at your sudden drop in formalities, his amusement mingling with the raw desire in his eyes. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. No need for titles here.”

The stretch was deliciously painful, a burning sensation that morphed into pleasure as he filled you completely. He paused, allowing you to adjust to his size, his eyes never leaving your face. The intensity of his gaze made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet incredibly aroused.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so perfect.”

You whimpered in response, your body trembling as you struggled to accommodate him. He began to move, slow at first, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through you. The friction, the heat, it was overwhelming. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself.

“Faster, please,” you begged, your voice breathless.

Marcus obliged, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. Each stroke pushed you closer to the edge, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly.

“You like that?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “You like being fucked by me?”

“Yes, oh god, yes,” you cried out, your body arching beneath him.

He drove into you with a relentless rhythm, his hand finding your clit and rubbing it in circles that matched his thrusts. The dual sensations were too much, pushing you over the edge into a mind-shattering orgasm. You screamed his name, your body convulsing around him, your vision going white with the intensity of your release.

Marcus didn’t stop. He continued to pound into you, chasing his own release, his hand still working your sensitive clit. The overstimulation was almost painful, but you relished it, craving more of the pleasure-pain.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic. “I’m going to come.”

You tightened around him, wanting to push him over the edge, wanting to feel him lose control. “Come for me, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Fill me up.”

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed. His groan of release was primal, his body shuddering against yours. You felt the warmth of his cum filling you, the sensation pushing you into another smaller orgasm.

He stayed inside you for a moment, both of you catching your breath, the room filled with the scent of sex and sweat. Finally, he pulled out, his cum dripping from your swollen pussy. He looked at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction and something more—something possessive.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice a low growl. “No one else gets to touch you like this.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and you felt a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. You had never been claimed so fiercely, never felt so desired. But a question lingered in the back of your mind, one you couldn’t ignore.

“Will you be seeing any other maids?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The thought of him with someone else, touching them the way he touched you, sent a pang of jealousy through you.

Marcus’s expression softened slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “I don’t taste the others. I’ve seen you around, watching you, waiting for this moment.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, “I’ve been planning this, waiting for the right time. You’re different, special. I want you to be my mistress.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. The idea of being his mistress, of belonging to him in such an intimate way, was intoxicating. You looked up at him, your eyes wide with wonder. “You’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yes,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. No one else compares to you.”

His hands roamed over your body, caressing your skin with a possessive tenderness that made you tremble. He pulled you closer, his mouth capturing yours in a searing kiss. You melted into him, your body responding to his touch, craving more.

He broke the kiss, his eyes burning with desire. “I want you to understand something,” he said, his voice low and intense. “Being my mistress means you belong to me. Your body, your pleasure, it’s all mine.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions inside you. He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that made your pulse quicken.

“Good,” he said, his hands sliding down your body. “Now, show me how much you want to be mine.”

684 notes · View notes

scarlet-star-witch · 5 months ago

Text

The moon and his sun (Epilogue)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 6 K

Warnings: you know the drill, its fluff and angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Amond startled awake, his bloody and violent nightmare fading as his eye adjusted to the dark room around him.

He instinctively reached out beside him, searching for his beloved wife, but when his hand met nothing but soft sheets, he sat up abruptly. His heart that had been slowing as he relaxed from the reality that his vicious nightmare had been just that, a nightmare, began to race once more.

His eye searched the room frantically, his breathing becoming heavy as fear gripped him tightly.

Remnants of his nightmare, thoughts of Daemon ambushing his home to enact his bloody revenge, lingered in his mind and suddenly, all he could think of was his damned uncle ripping his family from him.

He sprang out of bed and raced out of their chambers. He stood still, his chest heaving as he took in the calm stillness of the night, no guards shouting or racing towards danger, no screams of terror, no smell of smoke from destructive dragon fire, nothing that signaled an incoming fight.

Yet his heart still raced.

His feet moved quickly, taking him to the room across the hall.

His throat was tight with worry as he rushed into the room, his gaze immediately locking onto the small body curled in bed. He let out a ragged breath at the sight of his daughter unharmed and sleeping peacefully.

He looked around her room, inspecting for danger, his thoughts not yet derailed from the possibility of an impending threat. He let out a harsh breath when he realized there was no intruder, no one that dared to hurt his precious daughter.

He stepped towards her bed slowly, trying not to make a sound and disturb her sleep.

He felt his lips twitch upwards, a smile growing as he looked down at the sleeping angel before him. His beautiful daughter, his perfect little Valia.

She was the perfect mix of him and his wife, with her long silver hair and eyes that sparkled with delight like her mothers.

She certainly gained her mother’s mischief and was seldom seen without a toothy grin that never failed to bring a smile to those that passed her. At only two years old, she had changed his entire life.

His entire heart beat for her and her mother.

They were the ones that got him out of bed in the morning, that brought him a smile every single day, that made him feel joy and love he couldn’t have ever comprehended.

He gently tucked a stray strand of hair away from her face, his heart aching just looking at the life he helped to create, the life he cherished more than his own. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her blankets up higher around her, protecting her from the chill in the room.

With one last, loving look to his little girl, he left her room, no longer feeling as though his lungs were constricted with fear. All he needed was to see her safe and sound to soothe every one of his worries that lingered from his nightmare.

Now he needed to find his wife.

With his nerves no longer haywire, he knew exactly where she would be.

He had to fight his growing smile as he made his way down to the kitchens.

It wasn’t unusual that she would wake him in the dead of night, pleading with him to bring her honeycakes, but it was the first time she hadn’t woken him and gone herself.

He slowed his pace, quieting his steps as he approached the kitchens, peeking his head around the corner, his eye softening in an instant at the sight of his wife.

Even after their years together, she never failed to make his heart race in the best way possible. He felt as though every ounce of his worry and fear dissipated into nothing as he looked at her, as he was reminded of what he’d been able to create in his once miserable life.

“I don’t know why I bothered to worry. I should have known you’d be down here instead of in our bed.”

She startled slightly at the sound of his voice, placing her hand over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at him in silent admonishment for sneaking up on her.

“Do you have so little faith in me, my love, you didn’t task me with bringing you your midnight snack?” He asked as he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, attempting to keep his expression neutral and not melt as she smiled at him sheepishly.

“Sorry.” She mumbled through her large bite of honeycake. It was the sight of crumbs falling over her lip that finally broke him, smiling and shaking his head as he laughed. “I didn’t want to wake you again, but I was starving.”

She immediately leaned back into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, sighing heavily in relief as his hands cradled under the large swell of her belly, giving her back a rest from the weight of the babes she carried.

At only 6 moons pregnant, she felt like she was already minutes from popping. The Maesters were sure it was twins this time around, something she wasn’t as thrilled about as Aemond. It was easy for him to be excited when it wasn’t his back that was constantly aching.

She could easily let herself fall into her husband’s arms, but despite his loving touch, she couldn’t help but worry, as she always did, about the dark circles under his eyes, about why he was awake yet again in the middle of the night.

“Did you have another nightmare?” She asked quietly and the moment she felt him tense behind her, she knew she had her answer.

She let out a long breath, her hands moving to cover his, gently caressing over his knuckles, admiring the strong hands that held her and her daughter so gently, that protected them so fiercely.

“It’s been years. Rhaenyra knows what will happen if she dares to threaten you.”

“It is not Rhaenyra I worry about.” He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words aloud, speaking his fears of his uncle’s retaliation into existence, would summon him.

“Do you think he would risk his Queen’s reign to get revenge?”

“I think his bloodlust overrules anything else he deems to care for.” Aemond replied bitterly, the mere thought of the man enough to rattle him and ruin the peace he had created for himself. “He is reckless and stubborn. If he decides he wants revenge he will stop at nothing until he gets it.”

Her heart jumped at the thought. The notion of the last few years of bliss they’ve had dissipating back into a violent and bloody war that left no survivors was enough to spring tears to her eyes, ones she tried desperately to hold back.

Aemond noticed the shift in her immediately and held to her tighter, his lips pressing soft kisses along the slope of her neck.

“You know I would protect you. You and Valia would never face any danger as long as I live.” He whispered, assuring her of his lifelong purpose to never let another wound mar her body, to never let his daughter know of any pain.

He took her hand in his, his eye tortured as his thumb caressed the scar on her palm, the vicious reminder of that night and what they had lost. A shuddering breath escaped him as the memory of that night and the months of agony that followed wreaked havoc on him yet again.

They seemed distant yet not far enough away to let him breathe easy.

She turned in his arms to face him, her hands now cradling his jaw as she looked at him intently.

“I have no doubt that you will protect us and every single person on this Island.”

He looked bashful yet prideful from her comment, as if it were exactly what he needed to hear, but he couldn’t handle it. He looked at her lovingly and leaned forward, kissing her deeply.

She melted into him, holding him closely, feeling his body unclench, finally letting his fears drift into the back of his mind.

A kick against his stomach had him pulling away, his eye wide with surprise. He laughed in delight as he placed his palm against her growing stomach, feeling his little dragons kick against him.

“There are my loves.” He mumbled as he looked down at her belly in wonder, already counting down the days until he could hold them in his arms. “Don’t give your mother too much trouble, my dragons.”

She hummed and leaned into him.

“If only they listened to you.”

Aemond smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, pulling the plate of honeycakes closer, the only salvation he could give her in this state. She rolled her eyes with a huff of laughter as she took another dessert, hoping it would calm her growing babies enough to let her sleep for the rest of the night.

As Aemond held her, feeling his babes kick against his hand, knowing his precious daughter was safe in her bed, his thoughts drifted to those that were left of his family that resided in King’s Landing.

He knew if they ever dared to threaten his family he would show them no mercy.

She let out a louder than intended groan as she sat on the bench that overlooked the water, blowing out a deep breath as she finally gave her feet some well needed rest.

She rubbed at her swollen belly, dreading that she had many more weeks of this state.

“Momma!”

She looked up, plastering on a wide smile as she waved to her daughter who was splashing in the waves. She shared a knowing look with Helaena, who nodded in silent assurance that she would grab her rambunctious daughter if she waded out too far into the water.

She appreciated Helaena’s watchful eye, but with her daughter’s faithful cousins at her side, she knew she had little reason to worry.

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys loved their cousin fiercely and they were seldom seen without the little two year old following them wherever they went.

She watched the children play with a wistful smile, eagerly anticipating the arrival of their two babes, the growing number of children in the castle a salve to the torment they had endured just years ago.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, what they faced in King’s Landing.

Some days were easier to live, where the memories did not rear their ugly head, when the loss of their first babe did not make her want to bury herself beneath her sheets and pretend the world outside her door didn’t exist.

The days the memories sought to destroy her, all it took was one look at her precious daughter and she was powerless against the love that bloomed for her child, healed in a matter of seconds with one look at her sweet smile.

She couldn’t deny that she held the same fears as her husband, that she sometimes found her eyes skyward, seeking out the familiar figures of dragons headed their way, ready to burn Ixtal to ash.

She could only hope her threats to Rhaenyra just mere years ago were enough to hold her off. Surely, she treasured her position as Queen more than she longed for revenge.

“My love.”

She was broken from her thoughts, turning to see her husband approaching with a smile. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he took a seat next to her, his hand immediately laying over her belly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” She answered quickly, her reflexive answer to the question he asked many times a day.

Aemond moved his hand to her back, rubbing in soothing motions, wishing he could take her aches away, wishing she didn’t have to go through so much pain to bring their precious babes into the world.

She leaned into him, soaking up his touch. She let her eyes fall closed, her heavy thoughts dissipating with the continued motions of his hand.

Despite the ache in her feet and back, despite the nausea that had yet to leave her since that morning, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was in absolute bliss to be in her husband’s arms.

“Where’s Valia?”

“In the water.” She told him without opening her eyes.

Aemond felt as though his chest bloomed with love as he watched his daughter stomp in the waves. Her hand held tightly with Jaehaera, their loud squeals of laughter every time a wave crashed against them bringing a smile to his lips.

He wished he could have known all those years ago that the sound of his daughter’s laugh would soothe every wound within him, that she would heal every slight he ever experienced.

His eye narrowed, his stomach flipping as he watched his sweet daughter begin to climb along the rocks at the shore.

“Be careful!” He called out loudly, startling his wife out of her daze.

“She’s fine.” She assured him, placing her hand over his.

“She could slip.”

“I was younger than her when I began climbing those same rocks and I was fine.” She told him, waving off his concerns. Her daughter’s wandering nature was a harsh reminder of the torment she had put her own parents through at her age.

“Isn’t that how you got this scar?” Aemond asked, his finger trailing along the faint mark on her forearm.

“No, I got this after falling out of my tree when I was five.”

Aemond huffed and rolled his eye, his heart already aching for the stress his daughter would surely put him through over the next decade.

His wife giggled, earning her a playful scowl, which only made her laugh harder.

“Breathe, my love. You’ll be gray by the end of the year if you do not relax.”

He scoffed, his fingers just barely grasping at her waist before she jerked away, latching onto his wrist before he could tickle her.

“Don’t you dare.”

Aemond smiled cheekily, the sight making her stomach twist. Her raging hormones swept over her, the mischief in her eye suddenly turning to desire. He noticed immediately, having seen that look enough times over the years to know exactly what she wanted and his own eye darkened in realization.

“Later.” He promised, though he couldn’t deny that it took all of his self control to not drag her to their chambers right that second.

But he had been stuck in a council meeting all morning and he longed to be with his family for the afternoon.

He could at least wait until his daughter was put down for her nap to ravish his insatiable wife.

Aemond let out a sigh, a sound of pure contentment as he watched his daughter play, his wife in his arms, the warm breeze of Ixtal adorning his skin.

It was paradise, everything he had wanted since he was a boy.

He was content to stay in that moment forever.

Suddenly a faint noise sounded that raised every hair on his body, the quiet trill one he recognized, but couldn’t quite put his finger on. He stiffened and sat forward, his keen eye surveying for a threat. He almost thought he had imagined the noise when he heard it again, this time louder.

His chest heaved with nervous breaths as he looked to the sky, his wide eye darting between the clouds.

“Aemond?” She asked, having felt him tense beneath her.

Her own fear began to rise as she noticed the look in his eye. Her gaze followed his own, her stomach dropping as dreaded anticipation fell over them.

Suddenly, a lithe red dragon descended from the clouds, a shrieking whistle sounding across the Island.

Caraxes.

Aemond felt as though the blood in his veins froze as his nightmare played out before him.

He was on his feet in a second, his hands holding tightly to his wife as he helped her stand. He barely heard her call out to him fearfully as he started to run, screaming for their daughter.

Helaena’s eyes were wide with fright as she yelled for her children, frantically gesturing them to her side.

“Go!” Aemond yelled to her as he ran past her.

There was a ringing in his ears as he sprinted, his gaze locked onto his daughter who was trying to get down from the rocks, her face twisted in fear. It was like a dagger in his heart.

He cared little for his boots that were now soaked as he raced through the waves to get to her. His arms were out the second he was close enough.

“Daddy.” She sobbed as he made it to her. She practically fell into his arms, her little body that shook with her frightful cries tearing away pieces of him.

“I’ve got you, my Sweet. You’re ok.” He assured her, cradling her to him tightly as he ran out of the waves.

His heart was in his throat as he approached his wife whose eyes were locked onto the approaching dragon.

“Get inside.” Aemond ordered, mournfully passing Valia into her arms.

“Aemond-”

“Go, now!”

“Aemond, please-”

He kissed her fiercely, the moment entirely too brief before he pulled away, his wide eye betraying his terror. He placed his hand on his daughter’s back, watching as she clung to her mother who looked equally as terrified.

A lump grew in his throat that made it hard to breathe. His eye met his wife whose tears brazenly fell down her cheeks.

“I will come back to you, I promise.”

He spared one final look to his daughter before tearing himself from their side, racing desperately towards Vhagar.

She could only watch as her husband left, her chest heaving, her hands clutching to her daughter who cried into the crook of her neck.

The distant screams of townsfolk and guards broke her out of her daze and she moved as quickly as she could while heavily pregnant with twins into the safety of the castle.

Helaena was immediately by her side, taking Valia from her, who only cried harder at being separated from her mother, but she couldn’t hold her for long in her state.

“It’s ok, darling.” She assured her shakily, her hand running through her silver hair as she clung to her waist, her fingers tangling in the fabric of her dress.

“I didn’t see it.” Helaena’s voice caught her attention, sounding despondent, as if trapped in a daze. “I didn’t see Daemon coming. I didn’t dream of this. I should have dreamt this, I should have known.”

“Helaena, this is not your fault.” She told her sternly, grabbing onto her hands tightly. “We all knew this was a possibility.”

Helaena didn’t looked assured by her words, the furrow between her brows deep, her eyes still wide with horror.

“Come on, we have to get the children to safety.”

It was chaos within the castle, guards rushing outside, as though there was anything they could do to defend themselves against dragonfire. Townsfolk were corralled in, the mass of people crying in fear.

Their home had never seen conflict, every other house in the realm was smarter than to attack their house, knowing what dire consequences they would face.

Apparently Daemon defied even the barest of logic.

She heard her name called and turned to see her father approaching, the worry palpable in his expression.

“Where is Aemond?”

“He is going to Vhagar.”

He nodded and reached for her hand, the only comfort he could give her.

“What do we do?” She asked tearfully.

“We pray Aemond wins. It is all we can do.”

The fury was burning within him like wildfire.

Adrenaline thrummed in his veins, forcing him to have to steady his trembling hands as he gripped at the saddle as Vhagar took to the skies.

While Vhagar was slow, she was bigger than Caraxes and through their bond, she could feel his anger, the pure protective rage that radiated from him, leaving her equally as bloodthirsty as her rider.

Caraxes roared and even with the distance between them, Aemond could see the hatred on Daemon’s face, his expression twisted with derision as he commanded his dragon forward.

Aemond straightened his shoulders, his jaw clenching, a brief thought of his wife, daughter, and unborn children flashing through his mind, only fueling him forward.

“Vhagar, attack.”

The roar Vhagar let out was enough to shake even the most hardened of soldiers, but it did little to stray Daemon from his vendetta.

Aemond vowed it would be his uncle’s last mistake.

The crowd of people crammed into the throne room cried out in unison as the screeches of dragon were heard, shaking the very foundation of the castle.

Valia whimpered and held to her tighter, her daughter’s fear like a lance to the heart, striking her fiercely.

Her heart was racing, her hands shaking. They felt like sitting ducks, waiting for their turn to face the slaughter.

She thought of her husband, fighting alone, fighting a battle no one but him could fight, and it turned her stomach.

She placed her hand on her chest, as if she could will her dangerously racing heart to slow.

“You need to breathe.” Her mother told her, holding tightly to her hand. “This stress isn’t good for you or the babes.”

“I don’t think breathing will deter my stress.” She responded sharply. “I can’t take this. I cannot just sit here doing nothing while my husband risks his life.”

Her mother clicked her tongue and looked at her fiercely.

“Unless there are spare dragons laying around waiting for your claim, there is nothing else you can do.”

She let out a shuddering breath, burying her face in her hands, fearing she was only seconds away from breaking. Another deafening roar shook the castle, causing another wave of screams and frightened cries to ring out among the room.

She looked around at the faces of those around her, the fear palpable. She couldn’t stand it.

“Stay with Valia.” She told her mother, pressing a quick kiss to her daughter’s cheek before hurrying forward, pushing her way through the crowd.

She dimly heard her mother calling out to her, but she ignored it, moving forward with haste.

The halls were sparse, leaving no one to question her journey.

She moved slower than she would’ve liked with the two babes she carried, but she eventually made her way up the stairs to their chambers. She didn’t exactly know what she was doing, she didn’t know what she’d gain from this, all she knew was she couldn't stay in that room as she worried for her husband.

With a heavy weight settled on her chest, making it hard to breathe, she opened the balcony doors, her eyes immediately landing on the two dragons in the sky locked in battle.

She blinked rapidly to stave off the tears that brimmed in her eyes, threatening her faint vision of her husband.

She watched as Craxes and Vhagar fought, as the two mighty dragons threw brutal blows, claws slashing, teeth tearing, and fire burning in a deadly stand.

Caraxes claws slashed against Vhagar’s belly and the sound the ancient dragon let out made her stomach twist, threatening to bring her to her knees. She held tightly to the railing in front of her, the only thing that kept her upright as she watched the dragons tangle viciously.

She flinched at every pained sound the dragons made, every swipe that hurt Vhagar, every snap of Caraxes’ jaws that were too close to Aemond.

“Please, please, don’t leave me.” She whispered into the wind. She hoped the gods were listening, she hoped they would show her mercy, that Aemond would be victorious, that their peace would not equate to only a matter of years rather than the lifetime they longed for.

“What are you doing up here?”

She jumped, turning to see her father approaching her worriedly, his hands latching onto her to pull her back, but she struggled, refusing his advances and stood strongly, her gaze never leaving her husband’s dragon in the sky.

“No, I can’t leave!”

“You are torturing yourself. This isn’t good for you.”

“I need to see him.”

“You don’t need to see any of this. If Aemond were to perish-”

“Then I need to be here. I need to be with him until the last second, even if he cannot even see me. I will not let myself waste a single second I have left of him.” She sobbed, her heart aching at the possibility of her husband failing, of this being his final day.

Her father’s shoulders sagged, looking at her devastatingly and he quickly pulled her into his arms, holding her as she cried into chest.

Another cry of pain from Vhagar had her flinching, burying herself further into her father’s arms.

Sobs shook her body as she silently prayed for Aemond, for their family, for the babes within her. She wouldn’t survive if she lost him, if her babes never got to meet their father who already loved them so deeply.

A bloodcurdling screech had her looking back to the sky, her eyes widening as she saw Caraxes neck trapped within Vhagar’s jaws, blood pouring from the wound, falling from the sky like poison rain.

She heard the shouts of the guards that lined the castle walls as the dragons writhed in the sky, plummeting fast to the ground.

She flinched as a scorpion bolt shot through the air, dangerously close to Vhagar. She grit her teeth and looked down at the row of guards, a scream of rage bubbling in her throat for their carelessness.

A second bolt tore forward and hit true, striking Caraxes in the wing.

She almost stumbled over her own feet as she watched the dragon fall. Turning on her heel, she was racing out of the room before the dragon could hit the ground.

Her father sighed as he watched her quickly retreating form, knowing it was useless to stop her.

He looked out to the dragon that now lay on his shores and, as Vhagar landed with a mighty roar, he turned, content to not watch the slaughter about to unfold and overtaken with relief that his good son had triumphed.

Across the castle, with tears steadily falling down her cheeks, her breath leaving her in heavy, frantic pants, she pushed past the line of guards, ignoring their warnings to step outside.

“Aemond!” She screamed the moment she was outside, holding tightly to her belly as she descended the stairs down to the beach.

The first thing she saw was the body of Caraxes laid out on the sand, pools of blood blooming, staining the sand red.

She then noticed Vhagar next to the dead dragon, her maw bloody.

She could have collapsed from relief, but the absence of her husband kept her moving forward. She called out to him again, sounding more desperate.

Among the wreckage that was the fallen dragon, a lone figure emerged, limping forward slowly. Her breath caught in her throat and before she could realize, she was racing forward, little care given as to who she was headed towards, but she already knew.

She would’ve felt if it were Daemon, if Aemond had been the one to succumb to the battle. Her heart would’ve given out the moment he ceased to breathe, she was sure of it.

The closer she got, she could make out the eyepatch, the tall form of her husband, the figure so familiar it healed every ounce of despair that had been so close to overtaking her.

She sobbed and cried out his name again.

Aemond limped forward quickly, his brows furrowed at the sight of her, his stomach flipping with a mixture of relief yet annoyed that she was so close to such a violent display.

His arms opened the second she was close, allowing her to fall into his embrace. He hissed as a wave of pain washed over him, making him stumble against the weight of her crushing hug.

She pulled away, looking at him worriedly, her hands hovering over him, unsure of how to help him as he stumbled to his knees.

“W-what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“It’s my leg.” He choked out. She slowly got to her knees, wincing with effort, noticing the gash in his pant leg and the dark blood that stained his calf.

“Daemon-”

“He’s dead. I made sure.” Aemond told her, his voice void of emotion, making her nerves rise once again in a quick second.

She cradled his face in her hands, forcing his head up to face her, noticing he was in a shocked daze, his eye hazy and distant.

“Look at me, please.” She spoke gently. “You are alright. You won. You protected us.”

“I protected you.” He repeated weakly, as if it were now just registering to him, his victory, his triumph over his famed uncle.

He practically shuddered, a trembling exhale falling past his lips.

“It was- he almost- he could have-” He rambled brokenly, unable to piece together his words, unable to say outloud how close he had come to succumbing to his uncle. Dark sister had pierced his leg, but if it had not been Vhagar swerving at the last second, his sword would’ve torn right through his eye.

“He didn’t. You did it, Aemond. You defeated him. You saved us all.”

Aemond looked to her, as if just now realizing she was real, that she was truly before him, alive and breathing, just as he was.

He let out a choked breath, tears falling down his cheek as he suddenly lurched forward, wrapping her in his arms, holding to her so tightly it stole her breath away.

Her body trembled just as he did, the two lovers locked into an embrace that held the franticness of a brush with death.

“I’ve got you, Aemond. You’re safe now, we all are.”

Her whispered words had a sob escaping him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. It all hit him so suddenly, the adrenaline fading, leaving him with the reality of how close he had been to losing it all, how close his family had been to danger.

“Valia, where is she? I need to see her, I need to make sure she is ok, that she didn’t-”

“She’s fine, Aemond.” She assured him. “She’s frightened, but she is unharmed.”

He nodded, breathing out heavily, the dragon blood pumping through his veins singing, leaving him shaking in her arms.

“You’re ok.” She whispered.

It was as his wife held him tightly, her hand stroking through his hair, that the pain in his leg faded, retreating into the back of his mind, as he let himself be enveloped in the love his wife freely gave to him.

He was victorious. He didn’t feel it as he drove his sword through his uncle’s heart as he lay broken and bloody beneath his dead dragon.

He only felt it in the arms of his wife, feeling the babes in her womb kick under his hand, knowing he would see his daughter safe inside.

They made it real. They made the title of Kinslayer twice over bearable and more than worth the price.

Barely a week later, she sat in the council chamber, her hand latched in her husband’s. He had scarcely left her side since the attack, he had barely slept to keep an eye on her, commanding Valia sleep in their bed so he could watch them both, ensuring their safety.

During the day, he was insatiable, taking every moment they had alone to ravish her until she screamed, his grip on her tight and desperate. He took her with a fervor as if they were newlyweds again.

He could barely keep his eye off of her since he feared he would lose her.

“We have received word from Rhaenyra.” Her father announced from his seat at the head of the table. “It appears Daemon had acted against her orders. She has sent her deepest apologies for any harm he caused.”

Her eldest brother scoffed at the news.

“She’s trying to save face so we do not storm King’s Landing.”

“Is that really something we want to do?” She chimed in fearfully.

“No, I do not wish for war.” Her father assured her. His gaze then turned to the silver haired Prince, noticing he had yet to speak a word.

“Rhaenyra does not deserve the throne. Especially not after this.”

“Aemond should sit the throne.”

“We can rally our allies.”

“Rhaenyra might just abdicate when she sees the support we garner.”

The voices in the room overwhelmed him, overlapping in a barrage of noise that only seemed to aggravate his already pounding headache.

“Aemond, what is it you wish to do?” His father by law’s voice cut through the cacophony of chaos, silencing everyone else in the room.

His words seemed to startle him out of his thoughts and his hand involuntarily squeezed hers, as if he needed comfort in that moment.

“This is your family. It is you who defended our home. Whatever you decide, we will respect.”

“I do not want the throne.” Aemond finally spoke, his voice terse. The mere thought of the throne, yet another war over that stupid chair, turned his stomach. “It has caused enough trouble. Rhaenyra can have it.”

“So we let this insane attack go unpunished?”

She winced as one of her father’s advisors pointed his glare towards her husband.

“Daemon is dead. I’d say that is punishment enough for his actions, don’t you?” Aemond countered, eyeing the man across the table with vitriol.

The atmosphere in the meeting was awkward, with few words spared as they adjourned. She was slow as she stood, her gaze on her husband as he made no move to stand from his seat.

She spared a look with her father, nodding to him, silently assuring him that she would soothe her husband.

Only when the others left and it was just the two of them in the room, did she face him, leaning against the table and taking his hand in hers, stopping his anxious fidgeting.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“I do not wish to fight in a senseless war.”

“Even for a throne you deserve more than her? A throne you could easily win.”

Aemond let out a deep breath, his mind a mess of thoughts. He once desired the throne, before he truly saw the trouble it caused and the crushing weight of responsibility and sacrifice that came with it.

Now it was the last thing he desired.

“I am not going back to King’s Landing. I will never take my daughter to a place that holds nothing but pain. I will not take you back to the place I almost lost you.” He told her reverently, looking up at her deeply, as if he was desperate that she would feel the same way.

Her breath caught in her throat and she was suddenly aware of just how much she did not wish to venture back to the place that had almost crushed them.

She nodded, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

“But Rhaenyra-”

“She is already facing punishment.” Aemond interrupted swiftly. “If she loved Daemon even a quarter as much as I love you, then she is facing the worst possible consequence she could ever face with his death. Let her live with it, let her suffer with her broken heart.”

She shouldn’t have felt her heart swell at his words, so dark and harsh against a woman that had caused them so much pain, but she couldn’t deny the swell of emotions she felt for him in that moment.

She reached out, caressing her hand through his hair. His eye fell shut as if her touch brought him more relief than any potion or medicine ever could. His hands found her waist, ushering her forward to sit upon his lap.

He held to her strongly, as if there was still a threat that could rip her away from him.

“Our home is here. Our children belong here and I will never, for any reason, step foot in that place again.”

His words were absolute, leaving no room for argument, not that she had any.

“I have everything I need here. That will never change.”

She smiled and let her forehead fall against his, her lips finding his effortlessly. They kissed sweetly, the gesture one of nothing but pure relief and assurance that they still had each other and always would.

“I love you.” She whispered and Aemond smiled. Those words never failed to stir emotion within him.

“I love you, my sun.”

Thank you all so much for reading! I can't believe this story is over! I'm so attached to these characters and my delusional AU so if you want more, I am more than willing to continue, just give me the word xx

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