#The View From Castle Rock

[justforbooks]

Reading some of these stories gives the feeling of wearing unfamiliar bifocals, needing to angle the head awkwardly so as to bring the fields of vision into alignment. Alice Munro starts with stories that are embroiderings of her family's history, then follows them with more personal pieces, where details are freely changed, but faith is kept with a core of memoir.

The historical background of the Laidlaws, Munro's forebears, is even more erratic in its alternation of fullness and blanks than might be expected. Writer James Hogg was a relative, so that when James Laidlaw, having emigrated from Scotland to Canada with several of his grown children, wrote to one who had stayed behind, the letter was printed in full in Blackwood's Magazine, to the great annoyance of the man who wrote it. A number of relatives kept journals and, late in life, Munro's father, Rob, wrote not only fragments of memoir but a novel.

The past needs interpreting even when it is documented. What Spartan arrangement, exactly, was Rob Laidlaw referring to so drily with the sentence: 'We never washed any dishes and had a new plate every meal?' They didn't have as much as a table.

'When you write about real people,' Munro remarks, 'you are always up against contradictions.' I'm not sure that's the problem: fiction thrives on contradictions. Life, though, is amateurish in its shaping. More fates fizzle than explode. People make false starts and die arbitrary deaths. Munro's filling of the gaps is lovely in itself, but keeps bumping up against the implacability of the record.

Her psychology is rich even when the lives described are bare. The severity of conditions in Canada was a good fit with the religious expectations of the immigrants. As Munro puts it, they 'constructed a life for themselves that was monastic without any visitations of grace or moments of transcendence'. Four sisters can live in a house without a mirror between them (their brothers have one for shaving), relying on each other to confirm that they're adequately turned out.

In one passage, Munro refers to the 'glacial geography' of Canada and the existence of maps that show how the Ice Ages shaped the landscape. She is undertaking something similar on the level of culture, charting the remains and the permanent scouring effects of the retreating glacier known as Presbyterianism.

The stories in the second half of The View From Castle Rock revolve around a version of Munro herself. She has freely altered other characters, who joined the Salvation Army or 'revealed that they had once lived in Chicago. One of them got himself electrocuted and another fired off a gun in a barn full of horses'. The benefit of this constrained freedom is clear from the first such story, 'Fathers'. Munro has never been afraid to tamper with the formula of the well-made. Here, she interrupts what seems an urgent narrative, about a girl raging against her violent father, with a much more low-key reminiscence of having supper with the parents of a school acquaintance. The real story is the beginnings of Munro's character as a writer, in her search for the common element in the relationships she sees and the one she experiences with her father.

The pattern recurs in 'The Ticket': 'I had three marriages to study, up close, in this early part of my life.' Her parents weren't well matched but made a go of things as a couple and in a business in the hard days after the war, when the mother became an effective saleswoman for silver fox scarfs and capes made from animals that the father bred. Then her health broke down with Parkinson's disease.

Munro's paternal grandparents were a more complicated case, her grandmother being an Anglican tomboy who turned herself into a silent farmer's Presbyterian housewife, with a thoroughness not really borne of conviction: 'Not to have anybody say that she regretted a decision that she had made, or wanted anything that she couldn't have.'

The anomalies were Munro's Great Aunt Charlie and Uncle Leo. Everyone could see they were 'fond of each other'. 'I believe now,' Munro writes, 'that there was harmony, a flow of satisfaction between them, brightening the air around so that even a self-centred child could be aware of it.'

Not everybody agrees with Philip Roth that a family is doomed when a writer is born into it, but even without a conscious settling of accounts, family members can be lacerated by the passing of a powerful pen. It's not that Munro's judgments are harsh - they're not - and her verdict on her younger self is far from indulgent. But the rules of engagement with reality seem to change from story to story.

In one, when she accompanies her father to hospital and is asked his age, she answers: '52', missing the mark by two decades. What she has given is 'the age of a man I am in love with'. There are no further details given, but the artificially offhand phrase has an odd resonance. 'A' man, not 'the' man? It is as if she is reserving the right to be in love with others, at the same time or another. In the stories nearer the present, she has a husband, who isn't described or named, though a flow of satisfaction is implied.

These are minor distractions of focus, but there is a shock for the reader in the story 'Home'. A stepmother called Irlma, owner of a flatulent old dog, a stout and hilarious person with a confrontational side, which is put down to Irish ancestry and having been born on a train.

A stepmother! You've been keeping that awfully quiet. Again, it's not that the rendering of the relationship is anything but exquisite, particularly the thought that her father seems a little strained in the company of his daughter and second wife, 'as if it took some energy explaining and defending us, one to the other'. And perhaps the character has been transformed or made up out of whole cloth. It seems most likely, though, that death has closed one mouth and made possible the unsealing of another.

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[myladysapphire]

Hello!!! So I was thinking if you could do this +18 dic for Jace

So like reader is from a kingdom or land outside from Westeros (royalty not Dothraki) and to make alliances it’s decided that readers sister is gonna be betrothed to someone in the Targaryen family BUT reader is against making alliances with Westeros because of their culture and how women are inferior and after the feast jace shows her why Westeros and her land should make alliances if yk what I mean👀

It would be awesome if you could make this!!

Thanks bye bye!!

oooh love this idea! Hope you enjoy it <3

why don’t i show you?

when you come to westeros to arrange your sisters marriage in an alliance with westeros you find there customs to be anything but acceptable and start to question the need for an alliance, it takes jace to show you why an alliance is needed.

word count: 2,134

CW: MDI 18+, smut, hate s*x, oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v, semi-public s*x, misogyny.

Jacaerys Veleryon x fem!reader

Masterlist

Once queen Rhaenyra Targaryen took the iron throne she looked to Essos for alliances, particularly the free city of Bravvos. Your family was one of the most powerful of the sea lords, with deep connections and influence in the iron bank, and with Westeros in deep need of money following the war, it made your older sister the perfect candidate for said alliance.

She content with the match, the idea of one day being queen seeming to be very appealing, even if it was of Westros.

You however were anything but happy about it. You knew all about Westros, especially there views on woman, the purity culture, the fact that a husband by law could strike his wife seven times, one for each of their gods.

You had argued against the match, seeing little benefits for your family or Bravvos in the union, but your parents were insistent on it, deeming there to be more rewards than I could understand.

They had sent you alongside your sister to Westros despite this.

And though the climate was so different from what you and your sister were used too, Westros was beautiful. The red keep, though nothing compared to the architecture of Bravvos, was a sight to behold.

If only you could say the same about the company with in it.

The prince Jacaerys had not once left you alone, seeing to prefer you over your sister. Not that you could see why, not once had you expressed joy over the union, and in fact had very publicly declared your distaste of it. But Jacaerys seemed persistent to irritate you with his constant presence.

He had practically ignored your sister, not that she cared much, in fact she spent most her time with the princess Heleana, finding more in common with her than the few conversations Jacaerys had spaired her. She also had taken a full backseat in the betrothal, not caring to attend the meetings to discuss said marriage and the alliance it would hold, leaving it all too you. Meaning more time spent with Jacaerys, in a room full of men, despite their being a queen.

You scoffed as one of the lords mentioned a marriage between you and another lord of Westros, your were sure he was talking about himself, as he started to ramble on about the rock he called a castle, not that you were really listening, to focused on how Jacaerys had yet to take his eyes off you.

“I do not think a marriage between both sisters is beneficial for Bravvos” you interrupted, “in fact this marriage alliance is hardly giving us anything beneficial in the first place” you sneered.

“How so, my lady?” Jacaerys asked, as an amused look filled his face. “Though you are giving us a loan, that I shall admit will benefit us greatly, we are giving your family a daughter who shall one day be queen, and her sons shall be kings.” You had noticed how he never once referred to your sister when he talked about said marriage alliance, always using a general term, being unspecific in who exactly he was talking about. “Not only that but we have offered our dragon riders to support Bravvos in any militarily matters until the foreseeable future”

You shook your head, “so a queen and dragons is what we get, whilst you get one of the largest loans we have offered, with minimal interest. We are saving you and your kingdom from bankruptcy, and yet my sister shall be queen of a kingdom that can’t even respect her!” She shook her head in anger, “the sea lords however seem insistent upon it, so I believe discussions on the matter are at an end, the marriage will take place in a week and I see no reason for me to continue to attend these meeting” you said as you stood to stand, Jacaerys joined you.

“I’ll walk with you”

“I can walk by myself” you whispered to yourself, and heard Jacaerys laugh as he walked with you.

“Why are you so against the marriage?” He asked, as he walked with you to your chambers.

“Because I do not desire for my sister to be thrusted into a country where the customs are so… so anti-woman” you spoke, trying to remain calm.

He hummed “my mother is queen and she is a woman, that does not seem anti-woman to me”

“Was there not a war against her being queen?”

He laughed “there was, but we won, and all is now well”

“Really?” It was your turn to laugh “then explain to me why the order of westros is so heavily favoured towards men?”

“It takes a while to change peoples thinking, my mother has been queen for only a few years, and whilst things are changing, I shall admit it Is happening slowly”

You scoffed, as you reached the threshold of your chambers, “I shall see you at dinner” you dismissed done with the conversation. It was the same one you always seemed to have.

That night at dinner, your sister once again did not sit with her betrothed, favouring sitting with Heleana once more, granting Jacaerys the opportunity to once again sit next to you. An event that seemed to happen every night.

You tried to ignore him, but he seemed insistent upon talking to you, “how is it you like your tea my lady?” Your not quite sure how you got onto the topic of tea, perhaps it was because he noticed tea was your go to drink.

“Oh um, well I mostly take it with honey, but depending on my mood I have been know to mix lavender or peppermint into it.” You said casually, “do you like tea?” You found yourself asking.

“I normally have it in the morning, but I tend not to add anything to it other than sugar” he said, happy to have an actual conversation with you, “what about wine?”

“Wine? I drink it on occasion, such as tonight.” You said as you as flagged down a servant to pour you some, you rarely drank, especially here, with there watered down wine.

“Interesting, I too rarely drink” he said, nodding his head “and what about-“

“If your going to ask me another question about what drink I like I will slam your head against the table” you snickered, as he laughed at your tone.

“I apologise” he continued to laugh “perhaps you could tell me about your interest’s mayhaps?”

You shook your head “and why should I do that?”

“Because I wish to know you, other than how you take your tea and that you are incredibly headstrong-”

You scoffed “headstrong? I simple wish for woman to at least be treated the same way men are, and yet the whole of westros is so against it that I am the one causing an issue!” You whispered angrily to him, trying not to start a scene.

“And you are wrong, woman may not be treated the same as in Bravvos but we are making attempts to change it, trust me I am as against it as you are!” He whispered back.

You scoffed “oh please.” You said as stood to stand, declaring you wished to retire early.

Your practically stormed out of the room, nearly running down the hallway. You stopped in an alcove to catch your breath, and recover and wonder why so little words had made you so angry.

Then you heard footsteps, his footsteps.

“My lady, I am sorry to offend you.” He started “I know there are a great many differences between our to lands and I am sorry, I am striving to do everything I can to change this, but our lands need this alliance”

“And why is that?”

“Because I-“ stopped himself before looking at you, and suddenly, he kissed you, it was soft and passionate, full of the emotions you had long craved to believe where hate, but as you kissed him back, though some hate was there, it clicked, you liked him, and were jealous of your sister. You pushed away from him, your hands on his shoulders, your back pushed against the wall, breath heavy.

“I need you” he finally finished, his head leaning against yours.

“Your betrothed to my sister” you argued.

“The alliance does not state her name, I could marry either of you” he said, his mouth coming down to yours again “and your sister seems more occupied with others than me, I doubt she’ll mind”

It was true, and so you kissed him back, not caring to think much about what he was implying.

His hands descended to your waist pulling you closer to him.

Your kisses grew more heated, your bodies slowly grinding against eachother the as you kissed. His mouth descended to your neck, leaving soft marks as he descended lower, before finally coming down to were your bodice starts, his hands had moved up your back, toying with the strings of your corset.

“Please.” You begged.

His hands started to undo the ties of your corset, your bodice slowly loosened, allowing him to pull it down and take your breast into his mouth.

He licked and sucked at your breasts as you let out low moans, careful as to not alert passers by of your presence.

His hand moved lower, coming up under your dress, caressing your wet cunt. You shuddered as his finger descended to your hole, your mouth moving to his once again as you urged him on.

Pumping his fingers in and out of you, you continued to kiss him to cover up your moans, as you felt your cunt start to tighten around his fingers, your peak edging closer and closer, but just as you where about to cum, he withdrew his fingers causing a moan of protest to leave you.

He laughed, “if I am going to truly show you why we need this alliance, then the only way your going to be cumming, is around my cock.”

You moaned as he said that, kissing him once again as your hands went to untie his breeches.

Freeing his cock, you slowly started to stop kissing him, before sending him a smirk and going down on to your knees, and taking him into your mouth.

He moaned as you did, his hands coming to hold your head, as you started to pump in his cock in and out of your mouth, his hips shattering as you tongue wrapped around his tip.

“Gods!” He moaned, a little too loudly, as he started to thrust his cock in and out of your mouth, before swiftly withdrawing himself from, you stood up, laughing softly at the flushed look on his face.

He kissed your mouth softly, before picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, your dress bunching around your own, and his cock swiftly entered you.

You both moaned, as your walls wrapped around his length tightly. He moved after a moment, starting to pump his hips slowly into you.

“Faster.” You demanded, and he happily complied.

Pounding into you, you both moaning as his pace picked up.

He kissed your neck softly, hiding his moans in your shoulder, as you bit your hand trying to cover up your own.

You peak getting closer and closer.

You could feel his coming too, your cunt wrapping around his throbbing cock, as you both let out a moan.

“Where?” He asked, his peak getting closer and closer.

“Inside” you groaned, egar to cum.

As he continued to pump into you, he felt your walls tighten even more, and a high pitched moan leave your mouth as you finally came, and he was quick to follow.

“Jacaerys” you said, as he pulled out of you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“Jace. Please call me Jace”

“Jace” you corrected “what-“ you were cut off at the sight of Queen Rhaenyra and her husband Daemon, appearing in the entryway of the alcove.

Daemon laughed as he saw the two of you, what you had done seemingly obvious.

Rhaenyra shook her head, going to speak, before being cut off by your sister appearing.

She laughed herself, mainly at the shocked look on both your and Jace’s face. “Well, good thing I didn’t want to marry him anyway” she said, unconcerned with what she walked in on.

A week later you married Jace instead of your sister. And Rhaenyra had made you her key advisor on the matters you so strongly spoke about, as was agreed upon in the new terms of your alliance.

And though you hated most customs in westros you found instead of hating the company as you once did, you now rather enjoyed it, even falling in love with one of them in particular.

Taglist

@aleemendoza2425-blog @apollonshootafar @zillahvathek @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @dark-night-sky-99 @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunblogsblog @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld

to be added to taglist

[lustlovehart]

Hard Stoned Gallery Dance

A/n: This was made like monthhsss ago, so I’m posting it as forgiveness for the lack of work i’ve been doing.

Pairing: [ Monster!Twst ] Malleus Draconia x Reader

Summary: Dancing is a beautiful past time, yet such a pretty act is ruined, when Malleus decides to let his affections for you run rampant. (Wc: 1.9k)

Warnings: Kissing & Licking, Murder/Death of Minor Characters (Not explicit), Possessive traits, Clinginess bordering obsession, a little blood, Biting/Marking

Your head leans itself on the rough surface of the stone wall. You’ve finished your objective for the day, so giving yourself this break is well deserved, ten minutes free of Crowley’s nagging is still freedom despite how it sounds. Your eyes can’t help but look up at the pretty blue sky, it stings to look at but you don’t mind the pain, seeing something so clear is worth it.

That cloud looks like a cat.

…

The taste of indulgence is quickly stripped out your grasp when the familiar sound of dragging stone resonates through the air, grating to your ears.

“Child of hunters, what may you be doing here?” His rock-hard face interrupts your view of the sky, green solid eyes look down on you as he casts a shadow on your visage.

Despite his body being made of pure stone, his eyes give a faint green glow, as if a bioluminescent moss grew there. His hair, his wings, and even his tail freely flowed as if he were just a regular Dragon hybrid. But alas, he is some sort of statue— Oh no not a statue, in his words a gargoyle.

You forgot about the difference one time and in turn, he gave you a 3-hour lecture on the difference between a grotesque and other gargoyles. Never again…

“I’m trying to hide from my boss.”

“Shall I be rid of him for you?” His mouth forms a little o as a small puff of a green flame releases from him.

“That would be a bad idea, I’d lose my source of income.” He quirks an eyebrow up at this., to be fair, you don’t think he has any clue what a “payday” is.

Despite his confusion, he lifts from his bowing form, a hand reaching out towards you in all its mossy glory. You’ve known him long enough to know what he wants.

A dance.

You don’t try to hide your exasperation as you take his invitation, albeit a bit slow. His stone body quickly pulls you up and into him. With how much tamer his form is compared to other beasts you know, it’s hard to remember that he’s part dragon, and even worse is part of the only few monsters who know magic.

So as of right now, this marks your third time dancing with one of the worst monstrosities currently on the bounty list. No maybe not one of the worst… From what you remember from Crowley’s ramblings (which isn’t much since you tune him out when possible) he’s probably the most dangerous.

You get the basic idea, but you’ve never truly seen for yourself why he’s considered so terrible. Is he not just a glorified water spout? Compared to a Kraken and an Incubus, surely his damage isn’t so grand to be warranted as the biggest beast to hunt.

“You’ll always be welcomed in my castle, you would not be short of accommodations either.” his hand rests upon your waist, pulling you closer than need be. His invasion of personal space is akin to a parasite leeching off its host, but you let him feed of you. Whether it’s from fear or a bond, you’re not decided.

Your movements are sluggish at best, but you can still remember the basic steps in the dance, your foot sloppily setting itself down where it should be, the occasional step on stone happening once or twice though.

“Considering the current state it’s in… is that even safe for me to walk in…? It looks like one good shout and the bricks holding the place together will crumble apart…”

“That is just the disguise we give it, as to not alert others of our presence. For you though, I’m willing to make it stand out if it makes you happy.” The hand lying on your waist retracts itself as he takes his other clawed limb and twirls you around, falling back into position when the spin is done.

“… I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” You know he’s not lying about that. You can distantly recall when a certain mystery monster had told you the tale of a longing dragon who perched himself at the opening of his window to wait for a certain hunter's return.

“Yes, he was so determined to be the first one to greet you, why he even stayed sat at the window for 5 months. It was quite endearing hehe.”

“Doesn’t it take hundreds of years for you to erode? Maybe it’ll take me 50 years to decide, by then I’ll be old and grey and you’ll be perfectly fine.” You take a step forward before the gargoyle's grip on your body tightens significantly, shrieking when he suddenly dips you down unprepared.

His freed hand takes your other arm and lifts it up to rest on his shoulder. Green sparkles are faintly flying around his lips as he slowly leans into the soft skin on your arm. His face leans in and presses chaste kisses on your limb, the gentle texture of his mouth catching you off guard as it tickles your body. Now you get it, he must’ve cast a spell to temporarily soften his lips.

He had attempted to kiss you once without taking this precaution, in turn, you gave him a face filled with discomfort at the stone texture that kept peppering you.

You can still remember the hurt face he had on when he saw your dislike towards his affections.

On his ninth kiss, his forked tongue peeks out from his mouth, licking a stripe up your skin. He finally lifts you up after the assault on your arm, his face only a few inches away from your own. It would’ve been quite the romantic atmosphere, had your nose not catch a sharp smell, and a horrible wretched one at that.

“You could be on your last breath and I’d still wait for an answer. But I hope that won’t happen.”

“Who knows, I work a dangerous job.” what is it?

The both of you twirl in unison despite the lack of music, your bodies in tandem as they move to just the sound of your surroundings. Though, your body is a little more sluggish than his own.

That stench… Is too familiar.

Eventually, your last steps fade out as you stop in your tracks.

“Is something wrong dear hunter?” Your grip on his shoulder fastens, if he was human you’re sure you would’ve broken his shoulder.

“What did you do?”

A smile is lit on his lips, his head tilting to the side, giving you such an innocent look, like he did nothing wrong.

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“The smell… Iron… This whole time I thought it was just the smell of the forest. But…” You swiftly pull a dagger out from your side, throwing it past his shoulder, the tip of the steel piercing into what sounded like wood.

He doesn’t turn back, only continuing to smile at you, as if you’re the only existing thing here, or more accurately, the only thing he cares about.

The bark of the trunk splits in half, falling to the ground, revealing the source of the stench. The top of the tree isn’t green, it’s red and brown.

4 pairs of hands stick from the leaves.

“You… What did you do Malleus–?!“ he’s quick to twirl you again, his grip on you tighter than it’s ever been. Despite your protests, he continues dancing as if you hadn’t seen anything.

You’re suddenly stricken with the memory of your first meeting with the beast, blood coating his mouth when he looked at you, pure admiration when he had finally met the muse everyone spoke so dearly of.

“Malleus, you—!“

“Tell me, dear human, was it not you who spared me?” He dips you down. “Was it not you who saw a beaten beast and allowed him to live?” He lifts you up. “Even as you walked away with a piece of stone you let go of one who’s rendered thousands over the years,” he pulls you in. “Dead” every action with your body is harsh, but not enough to hurt you, never enough to hurt you.

Because why would he ever wish to harm you?

He’d much rather smother you in affection, even when you’re exerting all your energy to kill him as he hugs you.

“It’s because you…”

“Looked so human?” He continues to keep you close, impossibly so, your skin melting into his, not from fawness, but fear.

“How did you know-“

“You’ve spared so many of us because we made you feel something in the moment,” he must be referring to everyone else… The look you gave him is dazed, caught up in the thought of every other monster you let get away. His fingers cage your chin in between them. “But don’t forget what we are.” Sparkles fly, temporarily blinding you.

When you open your vision, you’re greeted by the sight of Malleus, with the appearance of what he looked like if he was human, or at least similar to a human.

His skin isn’t rough and solid, his breaths are warm, and his hair is soft and pretty rather than a soft moss.

His eyes are a nice green, a pretty green. A color you would’ve enjoyed more had he been a human. Such a lively color shouldn’t be backdropped by crimson, yet, it is.

Behind him, several other trees collapse on themself, revealing the other tops, the same as the tree you had just seen. Views of stray limbs and vaguely familiar faces of hunters invade your mind, panic setting as you finally realize a question you should’ve asked long ago…

Why was Malleus so far from his castle?

Before you can react, your ears hear a faint whisper, eyes going heavy as little pings of thorns claw at your shoes. The last thing you see and feel, is his face leaning towards you, his finger loosening itself from your chin.

In a blink of an eye, he’s no longer the human you spared, but the monster you let escape back into the wild.

The fiendish of smiles is graced on his lips. Not because of evil, but because his smile, is so love stricken.

All because of you.

“Seems the little birdy fled the nest without permission.” Your eyes slowly flutter open, the familiar figure of a man bowing on top of you. “Now, I’ll forgive you as we weren’t expecting such a beast to appear-“

He’s immediately cut off in his sentence when a searing pain cuts through his chin.

“Augh—! How could you kick me after I spent precious time searching for you!“

“You’re the reason I’m here in the first place…!“

“I didn’t do anything!“ Despite your annoyance towards Crowley and all he stands for in your life, you can’t deny if someone had seen this scene play out in front of them, they would assume you two to be a father and his bickering child.

You attempt to stand to your full height, faltering at the pings of pain in your ankle. You suck in a breath, looking down as you nurse hurt skin.

There are briar thorns wrapped around your leg, a single rose adorning the stems, and a gentle green hue that contrasts the pure black of the floral life.

“Oh my, what were you doing last night?”

“… Night?”

“You’ve been gone for 36 hours my birdie.”

You don’t feel any different… Save for the prickle of thorns and fresh bite on your arm.

… Fresh bite?

Despite the indent, it doesn’t hurt, it’s like, he left it there as a reminder of your failures, at least to you. It could very well be his way of staking his claim on your heart.

“It’s a shame you didn’t get him when you could’ve, with your connections, you could’ve spared us a huge loss today…” you’re cruelly reminded of the people that lay to waste hidden in the trees. “We should let today serve as a reminder of what you must do.”

Crowley doesn’t look happy at the sight of so many employees who failed their jobs, yet he doesn’t look grieved either.

You… Truly, you wish you weren’t so softhearted during your missions. Maybe then, this could’ve all been avoided.

A/n: Like I said, this piece was from so long a goo, so i’m so sorry if the plot isn’t to anyone liking, but if it is, i’m happy you enjoyed it!!

[moonchild9350]

Heart of Ice

Summary: you set off on an errand on behalf of your father to the land of the giants, where you meet Chan, the king of the giants.

Pairing: Giant Chan x fab demi goddess reader

Genre: mythology au, smut, straight filth lol

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: violence (battle scenes), use of swords/knives/bow and arrows, and magic, decapitation, blood, use of aphrodisiacs, p in v penetration, creampie (don’t), squirting, fingering, oral sex (f & mreceiving), mirror sex, exhibitionism, breeding kink, dirty talk, dom Chan dynamics- I think that’s it omg lol

Notes: I’m a nerd for mythology and add Chan to the mix, yes please! Just another fic to take a break from spooktober.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©️moonchild9350 (2024)

You were exhausted. That was the best way to describe how you felt.

You looked back at the direction you just came from, the rocky waters slapping against the bank, taunting and mocking you at the trial it just made you face. The river Iving separated Asgard from Jotunheim, the journey long and treacherous.

You came from Asgard, the land of the gods, to obtain an item from Chan, the king of the giants here in Jotunheim. Being from the lineage of Odin, it was expected that the journey would be relatively easy, however, it has been anything but. It may have been for someone of deity lineage from both sides, but you were born of god lineage but also human, making you a lesser being than most of the inhabitants of the realm.

You are unsure as to why your father sent you on this errand, especially by yourself, but he insisted that you could do it, so you could prove your worth to him. And the latter is something you have been trying to achieve your whole life.

Sighing, you lifted your head up and took in the wasteland in front of you. It was dreary and dark, the wind howling nonstop, its cold embrace wrapping around you. There were mountains in the distance, big and rocky, their stance intimidating to anyone who lays eyes on it.

There were no animals or creatures in sight, although you knew that could change at any given moment, this realm being home to the nastiest, aggressive beings.

You could see your breath in front of you, as it was ice cold, probably below zero. Thankfully, you were bundled up in your furs, made especially for you by your mother for the journey.

Ensuring your knife, sword, and bow were properly stored and your pouch was still on your hip, you began your journey once more. This time to the large castle at the other end of the land.

You could see it in the distance, beyond the Jormun Sea, the rocky structure encased in ice amongst the mountain side. There resided Chan, a cunning giant who was supposedly awaiting you.

You started to walk, the sound of crunching heard as you stepped on the ice below. Snow and ice blanketed the land which would have been dangerous for the average person, but thanks to your specialized snow shoes, navigating the icy tundra was relatively easy.

The beginning of your journey was uneventful, which was suspicious, your hand ready to draw your sword at a moments notice. Up ahead a body of water came into view, the waves lapping at the beach softly, so unlike the harsh wind that was steadily blowing.

You stopped at the edge and peered in. The water was black as obsidian, what lies beneath obscured by the darkness. Every now and then the water would ripple, most likely from some sea creature beneath the surface.

Looking up, you peered into the distance, seeing the expanse of the sea. It would take you a while to clear it, your destination located on the other side. Time was of the essence, as you didn’t want to keep the king waiting, therefore, you continued to walk, shielding your face from the wind.

The land was peaceful, no sound being heard except for the waves hitting rocks and the wind. However, peace didn’t last long. As you rounded a corner of the sea, the ground began to ripple. You stopped in your tracks, grabbed your sword, and assumed position.

The earth trembled and split, a creature emerging from the dirt, dust and rocks spewing from the ground. It rose from its home, arching its back, grasping a sword in hand, a growl rippling from its mouth. As the creature stood upright, you gasped taking in its bony form, with metal plates along its shoulders and chest. Its eyes seemed to glow a ruby red, peering at you in disdain.

You knew what they were, a sub type of dwarf called a draugr. They were cruel and vicious unlike the dwarfs present back in Asgard. Gripping your sword tighter, you charged at the creature, raising your sword above your head as you came upon it. A loud clang rose through the air as your sword had collided with the creature.

You grunted as you were pushed back from the force of the impact, causing you to stumble and almost drop your sword. However, you had no time to rest as the draugr charged at you again, showing no mercy towards you. Sword against sword met again and again, sparks flying from the contact as you battled the creature.

Little by little you whittled away at it until an opening appeared, one in which you could finally eliminate it. You kept your eye on your target and charged, swinging back your sword with a loud cry. As your voice echoed across the frozen tundra, you swung your sword fast and true, the edge of your blade landing and cutting through the tough skin of its neck. You continued to push through until the draugr’s head was completely severed from its body. It hit the icy ground with a thud, dark liquid oozing from the opening.

The body dropped and then started to materialize, until all that was left was the stained ground. You rested upon your sword, attempting to catch your breath. You were in for it surely if all of the creatures you would meet are as tough as this one.

Once rested enough, you sheathed your sword and began to walk. Every few feet you encountered more draugr, the battle against them long and drawn out. Your sword was stained, the dark liquid coating the blade.

You were beginning to feel wary, your body getting tired after many fights, so you decided to stop and rest for a while. The only problem was finding a space safe enough to rest.

Looking around, you spotted an area that seemed as good as any. You thankfully did not run into any more enemies. Your rest area wasn’t much, your bed consisting of your cloak, as there were no trees in sight to rest against. There was nothing to make a fire with, so you pulled your legs to your chest and buried your head, trying to keep warm.

You were in and out of sleep, trying to stay alert but rest as well. There was no way to tell if it was night or day, the sun always present in the sky.

You were drifting off to sleep again when you felt the earth tremble beneath you, causing you to jerk awake. You hurriedly stood up and grabbed your sword, eyes trained to the ground for what you assumed was more draugr.

However, you noticed that each rumble was rhythmic, almost as if someone was walking your way. Your eyes scanned the vast tundra, eyeing the sea until you saw a large figure slowly emerge from the fog.

A large man was coming your way, a giant by the looks of it. He was about ten feet tall, standing so tall it looked as if the top of his head touched the sky. His skin was pale, with a bluish glow, his body muscular. His hair was disheveled, the black mop adorning the top of his head. He had a simple cloth tied low on his hips.

You were terrified, not sure how you could defeat such a being. You were coming up with a battle plan when the giant approached, his black eyes staring down at you. You were frozen on the spot, your sword raised in front of you.

The giant made a sound, a laugh by the sound of it as he plucked your sword from your hands and tossed it to the side. Your eyes followed the trajectory of the sword, watching as it clattered against the icy ground a ways from you. You slowly turned your head to look at the giant before you once more.

Your eyes traveled from his muscular legs, up, up, up, until you noticed something large behind the cloth on his hips. You were shocked, but a little part of you were turned on, knowing exactly what was beneath as the shape gave it away.

You weren’t innocent, not by far, living in Asgard made you that way, and your body was more than ready to accommodate what he had to offer. At the thought, you clenched your thighs together as you felt them dampen, your slick trickling out, as you weren’t wearing any panties.

The giant smirked at you, as if he could read your mind. With a swipe of his hand, he dropped the cloth, baring all that was underneath. His cock was long and girthy, various ridges along the shaft with a prominent vein on the underside, leading up to a mushroom head that was red and angry, copious amounts of pre-cum leaking from tip. It sat proudly against his abdomen, the beautiful shade of red a sharp contrast to his pale skin.

You gulped as he took two steps toward you, the ground shaking as a result. He kneeled on the cold ground, so he could be on your level and closer to you. You watched as he spun you around and bent you over, pushing your face down to rest on the cloak below.

You whimpered as you felt the giant lift up skirt, the heavy furs adding more weight to your back. You could feel your arousal leak out even more as your face was pushed further into the ground, therefore causing you to present yourself to the giant behind you.

You waited in anticipation, your breath coming out in puffs, as you felt the tip of his cock brush against you, parting your lips to slide between the puffy flesh. You thought you would feel scared, never having been penetrated by such a large cock, however you were ready, needing to feel stretched and filled to the brim.

Without warning, you felt his cock breach your entrance, a loud moan escaping you as your walls were stretched. You felt slight pain but more pleasure than anything as he continued to push inch by inch in, until he was flush against your ass.

With a loud grunt, the giant gripped your hips and began to piston his cock into you, the sound of flesh slapping flesh reverberating throughout the vast land. You felt like you were being speared open as you took his cock, whines and moans steadily falling from your lips. The ridges and veins lining his cock rubbed against your walls perfectly, sending waves of pleasure radiating into your core.

You were dripping, your arousal coating your folds, your thighs, his cock and your sure your cloak as well. He gripped your hips harder, his large fingers digging into your skin to where you’re sure bruises will form. He angled his body a little to where he could reach deeper, his cock hitting that spongy spot within you as the tip bullied your cervix with each thrust.

You mewled out as you felt a tightening within you, like a band that was about to snap, growing larger and more intense by the second. The giant behind you began to grunt with each thrust, the sound reaching a crescendo until he roared, holding his hips flush to yours as copious amounts of his warm cum filled your walls.

With his release you let go, squirting your release, the force of your high attempting to force his cock out. The giant continued to hold you flush against him as you could still feel his release, pumping more into your little hole.

Finally, you felt him release you as he withdrew his cock, the sudden emptiness causing you to let out a whine. Both his and your release was gushing from your entrance, creating a puddle on your ruined cloak.

Slowly you pushed yourself up off the ground, turning to see the giant once more. However, by the time you were able to face him, he was already clothed and walking away, each step causing the earth to tremble below you.

You watched in shock, as the giant who just came upon you disappeared into the fog, the only thing alerting you he was still relatively close by being the sound of his footsteps.

You were still dripping, the last of the giant’s cum seeping out of your pussy. You carefully got up, trying to avoid the puddle on your cloak. You were sad it was ruined, the article of clothing being a gift from your grandmother.

Sighing you got up and bundled the cloth. Unsure what to do with it, you decided to leave it in a small divot that was created in the ice.

You picked up your weapons and donned them once more before taking off in the direction of the castle. You encountered a few more draugr, the battle being easier now that you knew how to fight them. You slowly left the Jorman sea behind, the vast body of water getting smaller with each step.

It wasn’t long before you came across your next obstacle, the frozen forest. The trees were all frozen solid, the icy blue shining with the rays of sun that would peak out every now and then.

You nodded and began your journey into the forest, making your way in between trees. The air felt colder, the cold finding its way past your furs and to your bones. The wind whipped around you, making it difficult to walk, and to add insult to injury snow began to fall.

The further you walked, the harder it fell, the stronger the wind became until you couldn’t see anything in front of you. You shielded your eyes as best as possible, and marched on, putting one foot in front of the other.

Your journey was slow, as you made your way through the forest. There was no one in your path, the way clear, that is until you ran into something hard, causing you to jump back, drawing your sword in the process.

You squinted into the snow storm to see what you ran into. What you saw caused you to gasp. You looked all around you, your eyes wide. There were people, hundreds of them, frozen in time, encased in an ice prison. The person in front of you stared straight ahead, almost as though it was trying to look through you. This one seemed to be a woman, clothed in a fur top and skirt. Their eyes were piercing yet gentle, the hair framing their face wiry and wild.

Timidly, you reached out a hand, your fingertips coming in contact with the icy prison. Slowly, you traced the outline of the woman, your eyes trailing her body in awe. How did these people get trapped here? How long have they been trapped?

Your heart sank at the their fate, especially as you noticed there were children frozen as well. You really needed to keep moving, the cold setting in during your inactivity. Carefully, you stepped around the frozen statue and continued on your journey, this time more aware as to what was in front of you.

The forest was large, the expanse of bodies never-ending, causing you to slow down as you weaved your way through them. The only other creatures you encountered were snow rabbits, the little furry creatures hopping away in a hurry at the sound of your disturbance.

You were able to shoot one down with your bow and arrow, effectively skinning the creature and roasting it over a makeshift fire to fill your empty stomach. After eating your fill, you doused the fire and continued on your way. You had hopes that you were almost through the forest when you heard a loud crack, the sound echoing throughout the forest.

You stopped in your tracks, scanning the landscape in front of you, searching for anyone or anything. It was quiet as the wind had stopped howling, the snow all but gone. You had a bad feeling deep down at the sudden change in atmosphere.

Quietly and swiftly, you reached for your bow, notching an arrow and aiming it at the ready. Your eyes slowly raked over your surroundings, your breath slow and steady. Another crack rang out, this time right in front of you.

There was a frozen statue in front of you, however, this time there was a long crack present from the head all the way down to the right foot. You stared in horror as the person moved within, a twitch here, a twitch there, the sound of ice cracking ever louder.

With your next breath, the ice shattered into a million pieces, scattering everywhere, the person beneath focusing their eyes on you. They seemed to have changed after breaking out of their icy prison, with electric blue eyes that stared wide open, never blinking, their skin outfitted with a blue glow. You gripped your bow tighter as the ice figure let out a piercing scream, the sound ricochetting off the other statues, causing them to crack.

Within moments, you were surrounded by a horde of townspeople, their eyes full of vengeance and set solely on you. You began to fire away, arrow after arrow skillfully flying through the air, the sharp edges piercing the bodies running towards you.

You were constantly on the move, switching directions at a moments notice as they came from all sides, their arms reaching out in the effort to try and grab you. You were trying to regulate your breathing as you made your way through the horde, so as not to run out of breath. Things were going according to plan until you tripped over a branch on the ground, your knees hitting the solid ground with a loud crunch.

You yelped in pain, rolling onto your bottom, trying to ignore the pain that shot down your legs. There was a tingling sensation that slowly built up, making you feel like you were being stabbed with a million tiny, sharp needles. Through the pain, you tried to focus on killing more creatures, as they took advantage of your moment of weakness.

You fired an arrow at a man running towards you, a sneer on his face, the arrow hitting home right in his chest. He collapsed on the spot, causing a few other creatures to trip over him, their bodies falling to the ground like dominos.

That didn’t stop them however from pursuing you as they began to crawl towards you, quicker than you would have expected. You reached into your quiver for another arrow, but stopped as your hand reached into an empty space. You let out a tsk as you realized you were out of arrows.

Quickly, you tossed your bow aside and grabbed your knife, stabbing the creature that had taken ahold of your foot, cold seeping onto your skin from their grip. They let out a piercing shriek as you twisted the blade for good measure, as they collapsed on their side.

You were able to take care of a few more before you scrambled to your feet, your legs from the knee down radiating in pain. You took a deep breath and willed yourself to ignore the pain and withdrew your sword, ready to take on the next group running full speed towards you.

You concentrated on the battle in front of you, the only sounds heard in the dense forest were your grunts and the clash of steel on a frozen body. Sparks flew haphazardly as your sword made contact with creature after creature, the orange glow lighting up the dim area.

You were grazed a few times, the creatures nails digging into your arms and legs as they tried to get to you, their crazed eyes never wavering from your dancing form. The end was near, as you saw only a handful of creatures left.

You decided to try and decapitate a group at once, squatting and spinning at the right moment, to swing your blade outwards, the steel meeting flesh, severing the legs from the bodies. They collapsed to the ground, as blood stained the white earth. You recovered from your attack, your arm out and posed to hold you up while you took in the last of the creatures.

Standing up, you walked towards your first victim and raised your blade above your head, bringing the sword down with force, piercing the creature straight through the heart. You repeated the motion again and again, effectively getting rid of the last of the threat.

After piercing the last creature, you pulled your blade up and out and collapsed on your hands and knees. You were breathing heavy, your warm breath meeting the cold air causing smoke to drift from your mouth. Your ears were ringing, vision blurry, and your body was aching from the gruesome battle you had just engaged in.

If you weren’t of half god lineage, you would have perished at the beginning of the fight, this you were sure of. You took a moment more to recover before pushing yourself up and off the ground. You looked around to survey the damage, your eyes noticing the mass amount of bodies littering the ground.

What once was a forest full of people, encapsulated in ice, was now bare, not a statue in sight. You let out a huff before you started to hunt for your bow. Walking over towards a pile of corpses, you found it lying on the ground still intact. Picking it up, you gave it a once over before storing it once more.

You were about to turn away when you noticed something glimmer beneath the bodies, causing you to stop in your tracks. You pushed a few corpses away to uncover the source of the light. Lying in the pouch on a corpse were three round orbs, swirls of color dancing around within.

These were magic orbs, highly sought after items, at least in Asgard, and here were three right at your fingertips. From the looks of it, these seemed to be of fire magic, which seemed perfect for the realm you were in. Gently, you extracted them from the pouch and began to pocket them, hoping they may come in handy at some point in your journey.

Satisfied that they were safely stored, you began to walk, wanting to get out of this forest as soon as possible. You walked past body after body, trying not walk on the remains of your battle.

You were almost out of the woods when you heard another crack, the sound loud and echoing off the little trees that were present. Your eyes quickly scanned your surroundings, trying to find the source of the noise. As you were searching, you noticed what seemed like a large boulder off to the side.

Cautiously, you walked toward it, drawing your sword on the way. You were about one hundred feet away when you saw that it was not a boulder at all, but an ice elemental, curled up to look as if it was sleeping.

You cursed under your breath and began to place one foot behind you, again and again as you tried to back away from the monster. If you could avoid it, you’d love to not have to fight one of these monstrosities.

You were making good progress until your foot came down on a twig, the little stick snapping under the pressure of your foot. The sound radiated loud and clear, causing you to pause in your tracks, your eyes trained on the elemental.

You thought you were in the clear, the monster not hearing your mishap, however, you felt the ground shake again, this time, much stronger. Looking up, you watched the elemental unfurled from his sleeping position and stand. You craned your neck as it stood tall, towering way over you, its eyes red and piercing, a scowl on its face.

You watched in terror as it let out a roar, clutching its icy hands into a ball before it charged at you, shards of ice chipping off of its feet as it hurtled towards you.

You quickly dodged out of its way, completing a 180 before facing it again. With a roar you ran towards it, striking it with your sword, sparks flying as metal met ice. The elemental roared, throwing its head back with rage. You swung your sword multiple times, trying to incur as much damage as you could on the fiend.

As you recovered, you screeched as its hand reached out for you, scratching you in the process, digging a deep gash into your arm. You winched in pain, watching as blood seeped from the wound, painting the ground below you red.

You had no time to stop the bleeding and kept fighting, dodging and diving, swinging and thrusting your sword. Little by little you chipped at the elemental, wondering if you were doing any good. You were starting to get tired, your muscles aching with each swing, your breath coming out in rapid pants.

You were about to run for it when you remembered the magic orbs, tucked away in your pouch. You quickly grabbed one and hurled it at the monster, straight for its heart. The orb clashed with the ice, exploding into fiery flames, causing a chunk of the ice elemental’s chest to melt.

You did a silent cheer, watching the smoke rise to the sky as the monster stood paralyzed for a moment. You took that opportunity to chip away at its legs, swinging your sword with all your might. The elemental definitely took some damage as it staggered around, its large feet creating large craters in the ground as it stomped around.

You didn’t let it recover, reaching for another magic orb, tossing it this time at its head, the orb hitting it square in the face. It wasn’t able to cry out, as its mouth was blown off, ice shards melting with each second. You looked over the monster, searching for its core. You saw something shimmer within the hole the first magic orb created. You kept an eye on the light as you charged, and at the last second pushed off your legs allowing you to leap into the air.

You posed your sword to strike, driving the metal straight into the green, shimmering crystal that represented its core, its life line. Once your sword pierced through, the crystal shattered into a tiny pieces, the quickly light fading out.

You landed gracefully on your feet, your fingertips touching the ground to stabilize yourself. You lifted your head up to watch the ice elemental stagger drunkenly before collapsing on its side, falling and cracking the ground below.

You remained in your stance, your chest heaving, as you struggled to breathe . Your arm was steadily bleeding, the crimson red dripping down your arm, mixing with the dark maroon of blood since dried. You took a few moments more before standing up, using your sword as a crutch.

As you looked ahead, a castle popped into view, that was most definitely not there before your battle with the elemental. You smiled and started to head towards it, your gait a limp after fighting all day. You kept your head up, dragging your sword along the ice as you got closer and closer to the castle.

You looked up at the gray, stone building, the exteriors cold and uninviting. You hoped the king would welcome you, as you were tired and in need of care. Stepping up to the door, you looked up, noticing how tall it was. Definitely big enough for a giant.

Raising your hand, you knocked on the door, and waited with bated breath. You heard footsteps on the other side, their echo getting louder and louder with each step until they stopped right in front of you.

The large door opened, the inside of the castle being revealed bit by bit. Standing in front of you was a man, one that seemed to be your size, definitely not a giant like the one that was supposed to be living here. The man stared at you, disgust on his face as he took in your appearance.

You’re sure you looked a mess, as your hair was disheveled, your clothes ripped, bruises littered all over your skin, the wound on your arm bleeding through the makeshift bandage you placed on it. But all of that didn’t matter, you had made it this far and he was going to let you in if you had any say.

“Hi, my name is y/n. I was sent here by my father Odin to talk to Chan.”

At the mention of your purpose there, the man’s face changed from one of disgust to recognition. “Of course, of course, y/n. We’ve been expecting you, please come in.”

The man shuffled out of the way, gesturing for you to come in. You nodded and stepped over the threshold, your eyes wandering the room. It was dark and gloomy, the walls made out of gray stone, torches were lit to show the way. The furniture that was present was huge, befit for a giant.

“Right this way,” the man said, ushering you further into the building.

You followed him, down the hall and up some stairs, until you reached a large door.

“Wait here please,” he said as he cracked the door open and slipped inside.

You stood there waiting, your ears trained to hear whatever was being said within the four walls. You could hear mumbled voices, but couldn’t quite make out the words that was being said. You were about to lean your ear against the door, that is until the door creaked open, the man stepping out and into the hall again.

“Chan wants you to rest and refresh yourself after your difficult journey, he’ll meet with you afterwards.”

You were thankful for this, as you didn’t want to meet with a king feeling and looking as dirty as you were. The man led you further down the hall, stopping in front of another large door.

“This will be your quarters,” he said pushing the door open for you. “A bath has been prepared. The maids will help you in the meantime.”

You thanked the man as he gave you a little bow and stepped into the room. There was a faint aroma permeating the room, the scent of lavender tickling your nose. You gravitated towards the scent, your body finally catching up to the fatigue you felt.

You came to the bathroom, a large tub filled to the brim with bubbles, and multiple women who you assumed were the maids waiting for you.

They curtsied for you and then rushed to your side, ushering you to the center of the room. They started to mutter in a language you didn’t understand, as they reached for your ruined clothes. You blushed as they stripped you completely down. Once undressed, they motion for you to get into the tub.

You carefully stepped one leg in, the warm water caressing your thigh before stepping in with the other. You slowly sat down, savoring the feel of the water against your skin. Once settled, the women began to scrub you down, taking care to be mindful of your scrapes and bruises. They left no part of your body untouched, their hands reaching everywhere in order to clean you.

You had no choice but to sit back at the mercy of their hands as you listened to them chatter. They occasionally smiled at you, cooing at your beauty before getting back to work. They seemed very happy, smiles constantly on their faces.

Once they were done washing you, they helped you out of the tub and dried you down with a towel, their hands gently massaging the fabric over your skin. They applied a sweet oil to your body, the floral scent pleasant to the senses as it was not too much but perfect against the heat of your skin. They brought out a white dress and slipped it over your head, tying the string in the back.

It was a beautiful dress, making you seem like you were glowing. It was cinched underneath your breasts, causing them to overflow perfectly at the top. They brushed your hair, leaving the wavy strands to flow down your back. After they were done, they ushered you to the large mirror in your bedroom and had you take a look.

You almost didn’t recognize yourself, used to the furs that were customary for a girl like you back in your realm. You smiled at your appearance as you felt very beautiful. Turning around, you thanked the maids who smiled back in return.

One of the maids walked over to you, a cup in her hand. She handed it to you and said, “for you m’lady. Our new queen. A tonic for tonight.”

Wait, new queen? Your smile faltered as you looked at the lady, confusion on your face.

“Yes, yes, new queen, you are Chan’s wife.”

You were in disbelief. Your father sold you out, sold you to the king of the giants without consulting you. The thought hurt your heart, that he couldn’t tell you at least, but your father is Odin after all. He doesn’t discuss his decisions with anyone. Accepting your fate, you took the cup from the lady, and brought it to your lips, drinking the warm liquid.

It went down easy, the flavor odd but not unpleasant. Once the cup was drained, you handed it back to the maid who curtsied and hurried off, the others right behind her.

You stared after them until the door shut behind the last of them. What were you to do now?

You decided to walk to the window and look out at the vast expanse of icy wasteland. This was your home now you supposed. You wondered what Chan looked like, the other giant you…encountered crossing your mind. Your pussy clenched in remembrance, how he dominated you, held you down and had his way with you. How primitive it felt.

You felt yourself getting hot, your heart rate increasing at the thought. You shifted your thighs against each other, seeking friction as your pussy fluttered, your slick trickling out and onto your thighs.

You felt weird, but in a good way, the only thing on your mind to be filled, bred until you couldn’t walk anymore. You continued to shift your thighs together, your breaths coming out as pants. You were about to reach your fingers under your dress when the door slammed open, and a giant walked in.

You turned to look at the intruder, your cheeks flushed in your heat, your breasts raising and falling as you took each breath. Your eyes widened in recognition, the giant before you being the one who you encountered by the sea. So this was Chan, the king of the giants, and now your husband.

He stared down at you, a smile on his face. He stalked toward you, and stopped in front of the mirror, beckoning you forward. You all but ran to him, craning your head up to look at him. He was beautiful, even for a giant. You were able to get a good look at his face now, noticing that he had a chiseled face, and large, pouty lips. His eyes were big and round, as they took you in.

He turned you around, having you face the mirror. His hands graced your thighs, slowly dragging up your sides, your belly until he reached your breast, his large hands cupping the flesh. Your breath hitched as you watched, feeling him massage your breasts, his large fingers pinching your nipples causing you to loudly moan.

“So beautiful,” Chan said, his voice low but clear.

He slowly pushed the straps of your dress down, the material sliding down your body before pooling at your feet. You gasped as you took in your reflection. The inside of your thighs were glistening, coated in a sheen of your arousal that was steadily dripping from your pussy.

Chan smirked, as he brought a hand to your folds and shoved a finger between them. He dragged his finger through your slick before pressing the digit against your clit, your knees all but giving out at his touch.

You gripped his thick arms in support as he teased the bud, his finger flicking left, right, circling up and down. You were a mess, your moans echoing in the dimly lit room. You felt more sensitive than usual, your mind hazy as you came without warning on Chan’s fingers, soaking the digits with your release.

You couldn’t believe you came so fast, heat rising to your cheeks in arousal and embarrassment. You looked up at Chan through the mirror, watching as he dropped the cloth around his hips.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, remembering how big he was. Your mouth drooled at the sight of the copious amount of precum leaking from his tip, the liquid dripping down his long shaft and into the pubic hair lining the base of his cock.

You needed to be filled by him and you needed it now.

Chan could read your thoughts, seeing the effect the aphrodisiac had on you. You were insatiable, needy, your body language giving it away, as you pleaded with your eyes to take you.

He would take care of you not to worry and breed you full with his cum. Chan reached down and picked you up by your thighs, spreading your legs effectively so your dripping pussy was on display.

You yelped at the action, the floor getting further away as he lifted you higher and shifted his grip on you.

“My sweet, my precious,” Chan said before bringing you down on his cock, the tip spreading you open as he lowered you inch by inch down his length.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, as Chan speared you open on his cock, your eyes wide, watching in the mirror as your pussy sucked him in. Your entrance stretched so perfectly around him, holding him snug in place, almost as if it were welcoming him home.

You both groaned as he began to slide you up and down his cock, treating you like his own personal fleshlight. Your pussy squelched with each thrust, as your slick poured out of your entrance, the sinful noise echoing within the chamber.

Your threw your head back, resting on his chest as he continued to fuck you, your hands trying to find purchase on anything as he massaged your walls. His eyes were glued on you through the mirror, watching as your tits bounced, as his cock slid deeper and deeper each time he thrusted into you.

You were going to cum, the feeling creeping up on you quickly once again. You clenched down on his cock, letting out a moan as you let go, your walls spasming around him. Chan didn’t stop however, but continued to thrust up into you, his loud grunts vibrating against your head. You whimpered, feeling a overstimulated as Chan continued to spear you open, his grip tight on your thighs.

You were about to cry out when Chan let out a roar, loud enough that the whole castle would hear, and held you flush against his cock, his cum flooding your insides. You brought your eyes to the mirror, willing yourself to look at where you two were connected, watching as the thick substance ran down his cock and dripped down onto the floor.

“We’re not done yet,” Chan growled, walking you over to the large bed and throwing you down. With the withdrawal of his cock, both your fluids pooled onto the sheets, creating a large stain between your legs.

Chan shuffled closer to you and stopped at the edge of the bed, his hand pumping his cock while he stared down at you. You held eye contact with him, seeing him in all his glory, as his eyes pierced down at your small body. Your clit was throbbing and you still felt hot with need. You trailed your fingers down your belly, reaching down to play with your pussy, seeking to relieve the ache.

Chan watched as you pleasured yourself, his cock filling out again.

“Come here little one,” Chan cooed, beckoning you closer.

He grasped his cock and brought it to your mouth, the tip larger than your lips combined. He looked at you expectantly, his eyebrow raised as you looked at him with doe eyes.

“Suck,” he said, tapping his cock on your lips a few times.

You timidly opened your mouth as he placed the tip on your tongue, his precum coating the muscle. You were barely able to wrap your lips over the appendage, your mouth stretching to accommodate his length.

Chan smiled as he grabbed either side of your head, holding you against him before he began to thrust his hips, fucking his cock within your warm, wet mouth. You looked up at him, tears forming in your eyes as his tip kissed the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him.

Spit was dripping down the side of your mouth as you tried to keep up in time with his thrusts. Your breathing was shallow as his cock filled your mouth, the head of his cock blocking your airway, causing you to breathe through your nose. The lack of oxygen just made you throb even more, causing you walls to clamp around nothing. You moaned around his length, the vibrations causing Chan to growl, as he gripped your hair harder.

Obscene noises echoed off the walls as he fucked your mouth, tears steadily flowing from your eyes now at the onslaught. Your arousal was steadily dripping from your pussy, a string of the fluid leaking from your entrance, threatening to fall to the sheets below.

Your pussy pulsed, your clit ached, needing to be touched. You snaked your hand down to your pussy, intending to give some relief to your aching bud, but stopped immediately when Chan growled, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Naughty girl, no touching. Just take my cock,” he grunted. His thrust became more erratic, signaling he was close.

You silently rejoiced as your mouth started to ache from his cock repeatedly ramming into the back of your throat. Despite this, you were more turned on than ever at the feeling of being used by Chan.

Chan thrusted into your mouth hard once more before stilling, holding you against him, as his cum flooded your mouth, drops falling from the corners, dripping down your face, neck, and settling on your breasts. Once Chan came down from his high, he withdrew his cock and looked down at you, his hand reaching out to hold your chin.

“Look at you, completely ruined. So beautiful my love.” He gently stroked your chin, wiping some cum that was at the corner of your mouth. “Let me return the favor yeah?”

You looked up at Chan with lust filled eyes, dried tears on your cheeks, your face stained with his cum. Your body trembled at the promise, your pussy clenching in anticipation to be filled. You quickly shook your head, begging for him to take you and mark you however he wanted.

He smirked as he pushed you onto your back, your body bouncing slightly on the soft sheets. Chan lifted your legs, spreading and tucking them to your chest. Without a moment’s hesitation, he buried his face in your pussy, his tongue licking between your folds.

You squealed at the sudden attack, your hands gripping the sheets as he moaned and licked up your slick. He sucked your labia between his lips before pushing his tongue into your hole, savoring your taste as it poured onto the muscle.

Chan held you still as he tongue fucked your pussy, your walls clamping down around him as he brought you closer to your high, his nose brushing up against your clit, causing pleasure with each nudge.

Your breaths were shallow, as you panted at the pleasure, a tingling feeling spreading throughout your pelvis and belly. You bit your lip, drawing blood as you thrusted your hips against his face, riding his tongue.

“So good,” you whined, gripping the sheets tighter as you continued to rock your hips.

With a grunt, Chan licked a long stripe to your clit before sucking the nub within his warm mouth, the feeling causing you to gasp and let out a shaky moan. He sucked hard and fast, the coil in your belly tightening, begging to be released.

He smacked his lips as he pressed a kiss to your clit before sucking it within his mouth again. His tongue darted out to flick your bundle of nerves, the pleasure quickly becoming too much. You let out a loud whimper, as you squirted your release on Chan’s face, his tongue darting out to lick up every last drop.

He licked you clean, his grip not loosening until he was satisfied. He lifted his head and smiled, your release dripping from his chin.

“I love your sweet nectar love, you taste so damn good.”

You moaned at his words, your fingers going to your nipples, your back arching as you squeezed the buds. Chan smiled as he shuffled higher up on the bed.

He stroked your thighs before spreading them wide so he could settle between them. You stared up at him, his cock standing proud against his abdomen, the tip angry and red. The demeanor in Chan’s eyes changed as he stared down at you, watching as you played with your breasts.

It seemed as if he was ready to devour you, as if he was ready to breed you. He gripped your thighs again, this time bringing them to rest on his shoulders. With a breath, he sheathed himself inside you, both of you moaning at the feel of each other.

You could never get used to the stretch, the sensation mixed with pain and pleasure. You stared at Chan, your mouth open as he continued to push into you, before withdrawing his cock and snapping his hips into yours again.

He began to pound into you, his cock bullying you deep within. You moaned as you creamed around his cock, the white ring forming around his length as he fucked you. Your body felt like it was in overdrive, as your toes curls and your thighs spasmed around Chan. Your pussy throbbed as Chan spared you no mercy. Your clit dragged against the coarse hair lining his pubic area, sending the all too familiar warm feeling throughout your body.

Chan leaned further over you, allowing him to reach deeper within you, the ridges on his cock brushing against your upper walls just right. He whispered sweet nothings to you, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your release hit you hard, your pussy spasming, trying to push him out with each rhythmic contraction.

“Na uh, love. Keep me in there. Gotta breed you love. Fill you up so good, you’ll have no choice but to carry my children.”

You mewled at the dirty talk, your mind empty as he continued to abuse your little hole. You felt that feeling build up within your core again, shock coursing through you at the fact you were about to cum again so soon.

“Fuck love, like you were made for me. You. Are. Mine.” He growled, accentuating each word with a thrust, before stilling, his cum painting your walls one last time.

Chan stayed buried within you, emptying every last drop of his cum, his eyes trained on your pussy, watching as the liquid seeped around his cock, down your ass, and pooled on the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, as he withdrew his cock from your hole, a flood of your release mixed with his gushing out.

“Shit love, we can’t have that can we? Gotta keep it in for me,” he cooed, taking a finger and gathering up he thick, white fluid, and stuffing it back in within your pussy.

You softly moaned at the intrusion, your energy spent. You finally started to feel normal again, the heat leaving your body, your heart rate slowing down. You felt like you could breathe once more as you took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air.

Chan smiled and got off the bed, the door to the room opening as the maids timidly shuffled into the room. They carefully helped you up and into the bath, while others stripped the bed of the soiled sheets, placing fresh ones on.

You were in a daze, as you slowly came down from the clouds, the fuzzy feeling slowly dissipating as you were bathed once more within the lavender bath. The maids helped you into another gown and helped you back into bed, Chan already waiting for you.

You snuggled into his large frame, your eyes drooping in exhaustion. Chan cradled you to him, his arms rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You decided in that moment, in your post coital brain, that you were happy to have taken this journey to another realm, to where you met Chan. Now you were queen, nobody being able to come after you, not even your father, Odin himself.

You quickly succumbed to sleep, your dreams filled with the future you and Chan would build together, feeling at peace at last.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

[just-some-user-hunny]

Balerion bonded to bastard! Reader

~ In this Scenario, Balerion is still alive and breathing- albeit barely, and with little enthusiasm. He'd remain still in the sand, seafoam lapping at his scales, yet he feels little reason to move. He's old. Ancient, and tired. The rise and fall of his breath is gradual and laboured- slow like the moving tide. Ever since Viserys drew his last breath, Balerion felt as cold as the sea. His days of glory and war are memories grown old, and he is tired. He feels like sleeping forever now, listening to the faint call of seagulls and the noise of crashing tides.

~ Bastard! princess reader captures glimpses of him from her windows view, watching the old beast wither and fade upon the beach like he were a memory fizzling away into the seafoam. At first glimpse through the rain speckled glass pane- she had mistaken him for a large mountain of black rock.

~ now she's frightened, but, intrigued. She is still a child, a scared and desperate one, so she hatches a plan to reach the beach and perhaps ask the dragon nicely if he'd take her back home. (Besides, dragons do look scary, but Caraxes was nice to her. Maybe he'll be nice too?)

~ like a slippery little mouse, one day she escapes during dinnertime. Fueled to seek out the dragon after a one-sided argument with Daemon across the table. Whilst the servants and knights searched the castle grounds for her, she finds herself on the coastline, and beelines towards the mountain of a dragon, Balarion. She doesn't know who he is, all that he's a dragon. Dragons have wings. They can fly. He could take her home, away from these mad people.

~ her courage burns like a wavering candle, tears streaming down her face in distraught and desperation. The sounds of dragons roaring in the dragon pit fizzle her blood, she can hear the troubled songs of Caraxes and syrax in the distance, and it stirs her on to waken the sleeping dragon. Despite her little trembling hands and accelerated heartbeat.

~ Balarion is awoken- disturbed at the sound of a sobbing child. It is such an odd and peculiar sound to his ears, it startles him enough to raise his heavy head from the sand and look down upon a child he has never seen before. Inhaling deeply, he also doesn't recognise their scent. But there is some trace of dragon blood within her.

~ "excuse me, can you take me home? I need to go home, my mummy is there!". She proclaims as loudly as she can. As clearly as her choked up voice allows her.

~ Balarion feels himself grow soft at the sight of the little child- as soft as a dragon can be.

~ He blinks slowly at her, gently lowering his head to move closer. The sudden bravery of a mere child to approach him intrigues him greatly, and a rejuvenation overtakes his body. Suddenly his aching body doesn't feel so tired anymore- his stiffly folded wings that once enveloped the moon, suddenly feel spry and strong.

~ like a mountain unearthing itself from the earth, his massive body groaned and shuddered like a rolling thunderstorm- lifting from the cold evening sand and bubbling salty seafoam. The little girl stumbles backwards clumsily, afraid that maybe she has just prodded a sleeping angry beast, but she is met with no fire or teeth. this large, monstrously large dragon, is bowing his head to her. Like a mighty stag would do for a little fawn.

~ anxious- and brimming with excitement, her hands clasp upon the rough black scales of the sides of his neck. She climbs higher and higher, until she finds herself clambering onto the back of the beast, where an ancient and worn saddle remains. Roughly woven rope that has seen better days, and a simple leather seat awaits before her- and she climbs on.

~ her whole world seems to tilt and shift, like the earth was moving right beneath her feet as Balarion rises with a steady and heavy rumble. The stars are glittering above in the skies, and the cool evening air laps at the waves till they form foamy hills of white upon the dark sapphire waters. her heart is beating loudly and wildly in her chest now, her blood fizzling like lightning, and she stares across the ocean with determination soaring inside her. she's on the dragon now, and he seems eager to fly.

~ grappling the worn thick reins between her small hands, she recalls a word that the pale haired man called out to his crimson scaled dragon before he took off into the sky. The word is foreign, and doesn't quite suit the roll of her tongue. But she speaks it, a command that holds no hesitation.

~ "Sōvēs!".

~ Bastard! Princess had risen high into the sky, clutching for dear life upon the reigns that were held so tight in her hands, her knuckles had turned pale. The wind rushed and soared, and her ears felt like they had popped as they ascended higher and higher across the sea. Balerions' wings were unsheathed like the night sky as they beat against the wind, and although his body was aching and old, he was not brittle or weak.

Salt air rushed over her face like a splash of icy water as they flew over the ocean, and she watched the castle grow smaller and smaller as the wind carried them away.

~ they flew and flew, but Balarion grew weary from the sudden flight, and turned back towards the shoreline. Bastard! princess was at a loss of what to do- for her own stomach was churning at the realisation that she didn't know where she was trying to go. The old dragon seemed to also sense that, and made the decision for the both of them to head back towards the cold stone castle.

~ Awaiting upon the shoreline, was a small army of armoured men, and the white haired man, who wore an astounded expression. His eyes wide, and jaw slack in what could only be described as euphoric horror. The king, Viserys, despite his weak and brittle body, had ordered to be escorted outside to see with his very own eyes as to what was happening. They had heard the uproar of Balerions' wings from within the castle, Daemon had at once thought a sudden hurricane had hit amidst his search for the little girl he had stolen away, haste in his step as Rhaenyra attempted to sternly reason with him - until the unmistakable shrill deep noise of rumbling dragon-song erupted in the distance like thunder. Both adults stilled- their expressions still and astounded.

~ it was until the sudden and panicked cry of a knight that confirmed everyones hesitant thoughts.n

~ "Balerion the black dread has arisen! And the princess is with him!"

~ that was all Daemon needed to hear before he bounded for the exit. With haste.

~ Balerion had returned to the beach, just as the knights had suspected. They fell speechless at the sight of such a large and imposing dragon land back upon the sandy coastline, his energy low, but not gone.

~ Viserys was in utter disbelief, and excitement. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had believed he would be the last rider of Balerion the black dread- the last targaryen to mount the beast that once was ridden by Aegon the conqueror, and many other infamous names.

~ The princess's little head of hair and frightful eyes peered down from her towering view upon the dragons back- eyeing the army of knights. Balerion grumbled a growl so low and frightening, it rattled the knights bones in their bodies. Their braced weapons could only serve as emotional support against such a beast.

~ "Dohaeras! Balerion!" Viserys roared in his deep and broken voice, his command did not hold as much power as it used to- but Balerion acknowledged it with an absentminded glance.

~ Eventually, through carefully worded coos and reassurances from young frightened handmaids that beckoned towards the bastard princess- she yielded. Wordlessly, Balarion lowered his head and allowed her to clamber down. Right into the shaking arms of a young woman in servants cloth, who had stood so close to the dragon, she felt her skin take heat and sweat profusely. The frightened and frustrated little girl was exhausted, and hungry. She has eaten very little earlier, picking at breadcrumbs like a little bird, and sipping only a little water. Her head lolled helplessly into the crook of the maiden's neck, weak and tired. the anxious woman backed away quickly.

~ Half asleep, and very upset, the little princess was placed into Rhaenyras' awaiting out-stretched arms. Her own little boys gathered around her like lambs as she petted the girl's back to comfort her. She fell limp, and asleep not too long after, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

~ Balerion watched them closely as they took his new little rider back up to the castle, even following as close as he could reach whilst still on the sand.

~ Viserys was white faced and trembling, a wry smile on his face, whilst Daemon was left expressionless. His palm cradled at the handle of his sword, troubled.

~ "The black dread yielded to her word Daemon- I had not thought that was possible". Viserys muttered.

~ "Neither did I". Daemon uttered back. His voice was even, and calm, yet his eyes held a thousand yard stare.

~ This was not supposed to happen. She was so young- and now with the black dread within her command? There was no saying of what may happen.

To be continued...

[bumblesimagines]

Curiosities

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Overwhelmed and distraught by his duties and the death of his child, King Aegon decides to indulge in his favorite pastime: visiting the Street of Silk. However, he decides this time, he wants to seek comfort in the one person he's always been curious about.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical GoT warnings, Aegon being Aegon, mentions/implications of child exploitation, mentions of teen-adult relationships, mentions of Targcest/incest, death of a child, sexual content dontttlookatme, (Y/N)/Reader is a brothel worker, potential spoilers for S2, mentioned/implied homophobia (the Faith)

Aegon is a pathetic wet cat of a man (derogatory) but Tom is so pretty

~~~

Aegon hardly remembered the first time he'd visited a brothel.

Perhaps it was the mixture of drinks in his system preventing him from recalling the first time he'd stepped foot in a brothel. He'd been a teenager, he knew that much, and he'd likely paid for the prettiest woman in there. He'd had enough experience messing with the maids around the castle to know what to do and he'd ensured to pay well for the service. But despite not recalling the act itself or even the woman he'd done it with, he vividly recalled the worker who'd caught his eye the second visit. 

It'd been a week or so after the first visit and he'd gone in sober, willing to drink whatever the brothel had in stock until he passed out or was kicked out. He sauntered in with his typical confidence. He was a prince; everyone wanted a taste of him. The other customers in the brothel regarded him with smug smirks and nods of acknowledgment, to which he returned with the same smugness. He'd taken a seat at one of the tables and savored the way workers glided toward him in revealing clothing - or no clothing at all - with coy smiles and flirty coos. His eyes, however, failed to lock on the women flocking to him. 

Across the way, he noticed one of the rooms with the curtains drawn back by a few inches, giving view to the worker and customer inside. A boy around his age, perhaps a year or two older, sat on the bed with his rope drawn back and hanging loosely from his shoulders. A woman had her head on his chest, her eyes shut tight and cheeks stained with tears while her red-colored lips formed words.

The sight would've made him laugh, it was utterly pathetic for a grown woman to cry on the chest of a boy, but his heart lurched longingly when the boy raked his fingers through her hair and gently rocked her. The act looked so... sweet.

"Who is that?" Aegon questioned one of the women settled at his side, hardly paying any mind to the soft stroking of his chest. She tilted her head over her shoulder, searching for what'd caught his attention before she spotted the two. She gave a soft hum and looked back at him, her lips delicately dragging over his cheek and stopping at his ear. 

"That would be (Y/N)," She told him softly, her voice velvety. Her long lashes tickled his skin. "Poor Nora lost her husband to a horrible fever not long ago, My Prince. I hear he looked like (Y/N) in his youth. She seeks comfort, not pleasure." 

"I see," Aegon murmured and finally took a swing of the wine offered to him, waiting for it to settle into his veins before he gave in to the ladies around him. His eyes continued to drag toward (Y/N) throughout his stay. 

Men in brothels were no surprise, not to frequent customers, at least. Some enjoyed the company of men without facing scrutiny, some needed the money, and others were simply raised in the brothel. Throughout his visits to the brothel, Aegon learned it'd been the latter for (Y/N); a boy born in a brothel who simply never left. He found his curiosity spiked with each visit, each time he caught sight of him serving wine or slipping behind the curtain to entertain someone new.

Aegon never approached. It was completely new territory, territory he'd been told by septas and maesters he should never enter. 

It'd only been when his little son and heir died at the order of his older half-sister that he decided he couldn't give a rat's ass about what the Seven thought of him. They'd never given him a time of day, even as the King of Westeros, so why should he care? His son was dead, his sister-wife was a mess, and the Council acted as if it were all a mere inconvenience. 

When he staggered into the brothel that night, everyone stopped their doings to stare at him wide-eyed and silent. Each of them bowed, whether dipping their heads or bending at the waist and watched him as if waiting for him to crack. Aegon hated it. He hated how everyone seemingly viewed him as weak. He was the King, for fuck's sake! The wine and ale swimming through his veins made his senses and emotions heighten, forcing tears to spring to his eyes. 

"Drinks on me!" He hollered into the room, and the crowd within erupted in cheers and whoops, the energy returning to the room tenfold. A laugh tumbled out of his lips and his shoulders straightened, soaking in the gleeful looks and nods sent his way. They loved him now, even if they believed him to be a usurper or not. They loved him.

Aegon took a goblet from a table and drank its contents, feeling the liquid burn his throat and send a shudder up his spine. He set the goblet aside and wiped his lips with the sleeve of his shirt, vibrant eyes searching the room until they spotted the object of his desire. He made a beeline for him, ignoring the ladies who attempted to catch his eye until he stopped by him and grasped his arm a tad roughly. 

"Your Grace?" (Y/N) stumbled slightly with the tug, his grip on the pitcher tightening to avoid spilling any wine. He stared at him, brows lifting and eyes blinking owlishly. Aegon had never seen him up close before, and regret settled in his belly at the realization. What a fool he'd been, letting time pass him by. 

"You're mine for the night," Aegon told him, taking the pitcher from his hands and setting it down at the table he'd been serving. The men there shifted uncomfortably under Aegon's stare, none of them uttering a single word of protest and instead turning their attention onto the other workers around. 

Brothels had unspoken rules. Everything that happened in a brothel, stayed in the brothel. No one spoke a word of what went down or whom they saw within the walls of one, unless they wished for their own secrets and pleasures to be spilled to the public. Of course, Aegon expected his new Master of Whisperers to hear of it by the time he returned to the Red Keep, but he trusted Lord Larys to keep it to himself. 

Without another word, he turned toward the nearest empty room and tugged the curtain open far enough for the two to step inside before tugging it close again. Aegon's heart raced in his chest, be it from the drinks or genuine excitement, he couldn't be sure. He turned to face (Y/N), finding the young man already seated at the edge of the bed watching him. 

"What do you want, Your Grace?" He asked gently, his head tilting to the side while Aegon fumbled to get his clothes off fast enough. He looked enticing in the soft candleglow with his rope pulled apart to show his chest and stomach. It made heat spread throughout Aegon's body. 

Discarding his layers of clothing, he stumbled forward and grabbed hold of (Y/N)'s face, lips slamming against his clumsily. "You." He exhaled and pressed their lips back together, pushing (Y/N) flat against the bed with ease and digging his knees into the mattress. His hands forced the silky robe further apart, undoing the belt and pushing it further down (Y/N)'s shoulders until he could grab a fistful of it and yank it off the bed. 

"What is it you want from me?" (Y/N) asked next, breathless and head tilting back to allow Aegon more access to his neck. Aegon suckled and nipped whatever skin he could reach, littering his skin with red and purple marks that'd surely vex the Madam who owned the brothel, but he was a king. He could do as he pleased. 

Aegon laughed airly in return, leaning back to admire his work and pressing his thumb into one of the bruises. "What everyone else wants." He responded, eyes slowly raking over the rest of his body; from his rising and falling chest down to his thighs. Irritation flared in him at the fading mark of fingers and he placed his hand over his thighs, squeezing until he ensured the only mark left was by him. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) reached out to cup the nape of his neck, and in one swift move, Aegon found himself lying beneath him. He blinked up at him and then laughed giddily, hands flying to (Y/N)'s hips and squeezing the flesh there. (Y/N) leaned back on his thighs and took him by the shoulders, pulling him up into a sitting position so they were face to face. "What do you really want?"

"Yo-" The word died in his throat when (Y/N)'s fingertips brushed back his messy silver hair behind his ear. His lips pressed together tightly, eyes jumping away from the worker to focus on the lewd mural painted over the wall. (Y/N)'s palm pressed against his cheek, his thumb stroking his skin.

The gentleness of it, the sweetness, the comfort. It was all foreign to Aegon. He was used to being slapped, pushed, screamed at, ignored. Nobody had ever touched him with genuine kindness, not even Ser Criston who seemingly preferred his brother over him, or his mother who spent most of her time staring at him in exasperation or disappointment. The only people who ever looked at him with pure love and adoration... were his children. Little Jaehaerys.. 

Tears sprung to his eyes immediately, a sob threatening to rise in his throat. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip as his vision blurred, fingers curling around the sheets in a desperate attempt to stop the tears from falling. He couldn't cry in front of someone else, much less a stranger. He was a king. He had to be strong. Crying showed weakness. Aegon wasn't weak. No, no, they were all wrong. He was strong. He-

"I'm here, Your Grace." (Y/N) cooed softly, and Aegon's eyes snapped back to him. He smiled kindly at him and pulled him closer, his fingers tangling themselves in Aegon's hair. They ran through the silver locks sweetly, comfortingly, detangling the knots that'd formed and scratching gently at his scalp. "I'll take care of you."

With that, the wall he'd so desperately built crumbled, his arms slinging around (Y/N)'s waist as his lips parted to release whimpers and muffled wails. (Y/N)'s arms curled around his shoulder, cradling his head and humming gentle lullabies Aegon vaguely recognized. His body trembled and shook with each sob and cry, arms pulling and tugging him closer; seeking out the warmth and comfort he'd been deprived of since his childhood. A father who ignored him, a mother who begrudgingly cared for him, siblings who hardly liked him... a dead son. 

(Y/N) only moved to lean back into the countless pillows, bringing Aegon along with him and letting the king rest his head over his chest. His skin had long grown wet with tears and saliva but he remained silent, focused on rubbing circles along Aegon's back and brushing back his hair until the hiccups and sobs subsided, quieting down into sniffles and tired sighs. Part of him wanted to feel embarrassed but he felt too exhausted to allow the emotion to take hold of him. 

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Your Grace." (Y/N) told him softly, and Aegon's face scrunched up again, the last few tears spilling down his cheeks. Nobody had bothered to comfort him, and he'd been too overwhelmed by everything to seek it from his sister-wife. They hardly understood each other. Her with her odd riddles and sayings, him with his drinking and affairs. 

(Y/N) shifted underneath him, reaching over to the nightstand and retrieving a handkerchief. He dipped his fingers under Aegon's chin and tilted his head toward him, gently dapping at his cheeks and under his nose, drying and cleaning the evidence of his weeping. Nothing in his face changed, no disgust or boredom in his eyes. Only the kind smile and soft eyes. It made Aegon relax fully and completely. 

His fingers tightened on Aegon's chin, tugging on it gently and pulling the king up before connecting their lips again. Aegon slumped against him, his clear mind focused on the softness of his lips and the hint of wine still on his tongue. The back of (Y/N)'s ankles met Aegon's bare thighs, carefully pushing against them until their hips were pressed together. He swallowed the breathy whine that escaped Aegon, a brief teasing smile appearing on his face before Aegon began rocking needily against him, the smile vanishing. His parted lips allowed Aegon to venture into his mouth, tongues colliding on occasion. 

The hand along Aegon's back began exploring, running over the muscles he'd developed despite spending most of his time lazying about. His hand dipped downward and playfully squeezed the mound of flesh there, a low groan escaping Aegon. He pressed his forehead against (Y/N)'s, his lips curling into a smirk at the innocent look that (Y/N) gave him. Cheeky bastard. It was expected from a brothel worker, though. 

The clumsy rocking of his hips increased and the fingers that retangled in his hair gave a tug, gentle enough to not create any real pain but hard enough to get his attention. Aegon whined and dropped his head down to (Y/N)'s shoulder but he eased his rocking, his fingers digging tightly into the pillows and sheets beneath him. At his easy submission, (Y/N) smiled again and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple. 

"Good," He breathed and Aegon flushed at the way heat rushed to his lower belly. (Y/N)'s hand left Aegon's backside and reached for the nightstand again, pulling out a small round cup and bringing it closer. Despite his trembling thighs, Aegon managed to peel himself away from (Y/N), the loss of contact making his hips buck. 

"What is..." Aegon trailed off, (Y/N)'s hand taking his wrist. His thumb swiped over Aegon's fingers, pressing each down until one remained uncurled. The realization dawned on him fairly quickly, the way his features brightened making (Y/N) laugh softly before he dipped the finger into the liquid Aegon assumed to be some sort of oil. 

"I'll guide you, Your Grace." (Y/N) told him softly, setting the cup aside and guiding his hand down between their bodies. Aegon's eyes flickered between (Y/N)'s face and his hand, a strangled curse escaping him when warmth greeted his digit. His free hand tightened further around a pillow, the designs threaded into it imprinting in his palm. The way (Y/N) held eye contact hardly helped with his attempt at self-restraint. 

His mind ran wild, promptly forgetting about politics or the fact they were nearing a war for the first time in decades in order to focus on (Y/N)'s face. The darkening bruises along his neck only made Aegon's mouth water and heart flutter with pride, every gentle gasp and quiet whine that left him only made his veins burn with desire, something he found more addictive than the intoxication of wine. His head swooped down, burying itself in his neck to drag his tongue over the bruises and darken them even further with more suckling.

His hand began moving, slowly and experimental at first. Aegon hardly considered himself a gentle lover, for he preferred the joy of rough and fast fucking, only ever being considerate when it came to his sister-wife. Even then, even with Helaena, he often chased after his own high and pleasure over everyone else's, but he'd been desiring (Y/N) for far too long to make a fool of himself. When he curled his finger and heard (Y/N)'s breath hitch, he smirked and slipped in a second digit. 

Aegon humbly believed himself a quick learner when it came to things he enjoyed, so by the time he added a third digit, he'd already ensured (Y/N) had turned into a panting and whining mess. (Y/N)'s heels dug into his calves roughly enough to turn his pale skin red, the subtle hint of pain only fueling him to quicken his pace. He'd left (Y/N)'s collarbone and part of his chest covered in markings, ensuring any other patrons (Y/N) took for the following days knew who'd taken him to bed. 

The hand tightly gripping his bicep flew down to Aegon's wrist, squeezing around it and pulling his fingers out. His lips formed a pout immediately but he savored the gasp and light huff that escaped (Y/N). He swallowed and leaned up, capturing Aegon's lips again before pushing back against him, toppling Aegon onto his back once again and straddling his hips. Aegon's eyes brightened, his hands digging into (Y/N)'s thighs in anticipation. 

"Shit," A guttural groan left the king, his blunt nails leaving imprints in (Y/N)'s skin when he wrapped his fingers around Aegon's length, his thumb pressing over the slit. Aegon's hips bucked and he threw his head back, his adams apple bobbing with a harsh swallow. His chest heaved and a mixture of a whine and a plead fell from his lips like a prayer. 

"Easy, Your Grace." (Y/N) cooed, his free hand moving to Aegon's chest and pressing against it, fingers gently massaging into the muscle. The hint of mischief in his words didn't go over Aegon's head. His heels dug into the crinkling sheets and his nostrils flared with the deep breath he took, his grip on (Y/N) loosening and thumbs rubbing over the areas apologetically. (Y/N) nodded approvingly and Aegon gave a lopsided grin. 

His composure lasted a whole three seconds before it crumbled with a few pumps from (Y/N)'s hand, though he only continued with a chuckle instead of scolding him. Aegon's eyes turned glassy again from the sensations, his breath hitching every few minutes while the knot in his stomach tightened. He let out a whiny noise when (Y/N) paused his movements, his bottom lip jutting out. However, when he caught the way (Y/N) pushed himself further on his knees and hovered over him, he clamped his mouth shut. 

Aegon's breath hitched again followed by a sharp curse as (Y/N) lowered himself at an agonizingly slow pace. A dribble of drool slipped out from the corner of his parted lips and trailed down his cheek. His mind had long gone blank, the only thing he focused on being the sensation of (Y/N) taking him with only soft pants and the occasional hiss. He desperately wished to move, to flip them over and ensure (Y/N) wouldn't be able to walk for at least a day but he wanted to be good, he wanted the praise he rarely ever got. So he remained still, hands moving to (Y/N)'s hips and clawing lightly at him. 

"You're doing-" (Y/N) cut himself off with a soft grunt, the hand at the base of Aegon's length leaving to plant itself on his other shoulder. Aegon swore he saw stars when (Y/N) fully settled on him. (Y/N) breathlessly laughed at the awestruck, hazy look on Aegon's face, his hand gently cupping his cheek and kissing him. "-so well, my sweet Aegon." Aegon whined softly at that. 

"Please," Aegon whispered and (Y/N) gave him a thoughtful look despite the teasing curl of his lips. "I'll be good." He murmured, words slurred but he hardly felt the effects of everything he'd taken that night. 

"Will you?" (Y/N) still sounded breathless, the candlelight showing off the gleam of sweat on his skin. His hands moved from his shoulders to wander over Aegon's chest and stomach, trailing over his biceps and arms until they reached his hands and laced their fingers together. Aegon nodded hurriedly, so desperate and wanting but the feeling of their hands together made his stomach flutter with a newfound emotion. 

"I-" Aegon had little time to finish his sentence before (Y/N) rose to the tip and then slipped back down to the base, the action knocking the air out of both of them and further tightening the knot threatening to break loose at any moment. One of (Y/N)'s hands untangled itself from Aegon's to slam beside Aegon's hand, a half-hearted attempt at balancing and grounding himself. Aegon held onto the other hand tightly, refusing to let him go for even a second. 

(Y/N) leaned down and pulled him into a heated kiss full of all tongue and muffled cries, Aegon's restraint chipping fully away when (Y/N) grinded down on him a few times. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and wrapped his arm around (Y/N)'s waist tightly, his thighs beginning to ache and burn deliciously.

"Go ahead," (Y/N) exhaled on his lips and Aegon lost himself. 

Much time passed, the sound of pained groaning and grumpy muttering from the other side of the window telling them the sun would soon be rising. The thumping footsteps of patrons nursing hangovers echoed through the brothel as they shuffled out, the jingling of coins and such mixing in. The quiet chatter of brothel workers followed, cups and chairs clinking as they began cleaning up. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) sighed sleepily, his eyelids visibly heavy and lip slightly jutted out. Aegon felt equally as exhausted but the sight of him rubbing tiredly at his eyes made his heart swell, finding himself unable to resist kissing his semi-swollen lips. (Y/N) hummed softly, his fingers slipping between their faces to push Aegon back. "You must head home. Your-" He cut himself off with a yawn. "Your kingdom requires you." 

"I'd much prefer staying here forever," Aegon responded, coiling his arms tightly around (Y/N)'s body and dragging him closer against him. His whole body ached, his muscles sore and head spinning from the beginning of a hangover. (Y/N) breathed out a snort and rubbed his cheek into the soft satin pillow, eyes beginning to droop. 

"You mustn't. They'll come looking for you, Your Grace." 

"Aegon." He groaned. "Call me Aegon."

"Aegon." (Y/N) repeated softly. "Go home."

"Come with me, then," Aegon told him quietly. At his words, (Y/N)'s eyes snapped open, the sleep jerked away from his body and replaced with surprise. Aegon chuckled at his wide-eyed expression. "Come with me to- to the Red Keep. Come... be my paramour. You'll have your own room near mine... and- and you'll receive whatever you wish for. No one will dare say a thing."

(Y/N) stared at him for a long moment before he cupped Aegon's cheek and pressed a fleeting kiss to the tip of his nose. "You're exhausted, Your Grace. You do not understand what you're saying. You'll come to once you properly rest. You must go now before the sun rises and others see you." He said, slithering out of Aegon's hold to retrieve their clothes. He slipped his robe on with ease and offered Aegon his tunic. 

"I'll get dressed," Aegon took his wrist and dragged his lips over the back of his hand. "If you agree to become my paramour and live in the Red Keep." 

"We're only allowed in the Red Keep to entertain, Your Grace. You'll never be allowed to have a brothel worker as a paramour, much less a man. The Faith will never allow it. The Dowager Queen and- and-" 

"I do not care what they think. I am King. I can do whatever I want, and I want you to be mine."

[nyx-express]

Pink.

Info: This is part of a drabble series I'm starting, about colours and their associations with emotions. This one's happier and hornier then the last one, yay.

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav (unnamed)

Summary: Their first time post endgame, when they had decided to take it slow for Astarion's sake.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral, fingering, a bit of dirty talk, PiV, some happy tears and blood (only a drop). It's porn with a tiny bit of plot and LOTS of feelings. This isn't kinky at all, they're not fucking, they're making love. It's romantic, it's vanilla, it's what we all deserve every once in a while.

Word count: 4k

Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav/reader - Pink [associations: love and romance, peace & nurture, warmth & euphoria]

It was a quiet, clear night, dim lights dancing around the crackling wood in the fireplace in Tav and Astarion’s bed chamber inside the Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. After defeating the Brain, Wyll had taken over as Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate, offering guest rooms to anyone in the party who wished to stay in the city. Indefinitely if necessary, he had said, which was a relief since the two hadn’t yet decided when or where to join the army of spawns in the Underdark that had been unleashed after Cazador’s defeat. Seven weeks had passed since they’d saved the city. And they had gone over quickly, as everyone was still either recovering or helping to rebuild all that’s been broken under the Abolute’s attempt for tyranny. 

Astarion lay in their mahogany bed, reading something he believed only Gale would truly enjoy - some Netherese crap about the Weave and whatnot. He could get used to this though; residing like royalty in a castle and being treated as one of the city's heroes. The guest rooms were clearly built to accommodate noblemen, furnished with care and a certain touch of arrogance, much to his liking. Glancing up from his book, his view followed his lover when she made her way across the room, dressed in a dark nightgown and her hair damp. Putting the dusty tome aside, he stretched out an arm to grab her attention and said, “Come here, my love?”

She answered with a smile, taking his hand and sat down next to him. “Missing me already?”

“Terribly,” he jested, fingertips brushing across her knuckles. “The nerve of you leaving me alone here in Ravengard’s chamber of horrors.”

“This chamber of horrors just provided me with yet another free bath, for your information,” she replied, holding his gaze. “Are you hungry? You haven’t fed in a while.”

“Positively ravenous,” he said, fangs poking out of his sly grin as he pulled her into bed. 

“I see.” She held back a laugh. So that’s where the dramatics came from.

Holding her close, Astarion’s head went where it belonged, to the crook of her neck, his favourite spot, where he could smell her blood flowing even through her skin. But there was something else, a new scent drifting to him from her hair. Lavender? Hells, Wyrm’s Rock truly wasn’t half bad. Just as he inhaled again, she turned at an angle to offer her neck to him fully. He grinned to himself. Always so eager to please. 

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the icy caress Astarion would pull her in. His fangs pricking her skin only ever hurt for a mere moment before a pleasant coldness spread through her body, sucking the energy from her like a proper hike would. She didn’t mind the blood loss and was happy to provide him with what he had told her was the finest red he’d ever tasted. Any moment now, his fangs would penetrate and make way for him to feed on her. When his lips finally touched her though, his canines remained absent. A kiss, gentle and soft, was pressed to her neck. Then another. The sensation wasn’t unknown but still unexpected. Instead of turning cold, an immediate warmth spread from where his lips lingered, up to her cheeks and down, all the way to her core. The kisses kept coming, wandering up to her jaw, then back down towards her chest, his hands still holding tightly onto her waist. She released a sudden, hot breath, unsure of what this meant. 

Astarion and Tav hadn’t slept with each other since the party at the Druid’s Grove, having decided that it was for the best to take it slow. He had told her that he didn’t know what he wanted for himself in terms of sex, after two hundred years of having to lure in people for Cazador with his body. He only knew he wanted her, one way or another. And she had agreed, that he had to heal first, find himself and discover a worth unrelated to offering himself for other people’s pleasure. That he could be safe somewhere, with someone, without giving something in return. 

They still had been close since, held hands at any moment that allowed it, spent nights exchanging small kisses, or her favourite, holding his face while they talked and watching him look at her for what felt like hours.

But this, the way he planted kisses on her now, was completely different and reminded her of their night in the Grove. Though surprising, the affection wasn’t unwelcome. She’d lie if she said she hadn’t missed it. Her promise remained true, she would wait for him to be ready, no matter how long it took, even though her body longed so heavily for his touch from time to time. Still, she needed to be sure if she was reading the situation correctly.

“Astarion?” she asked, another gasp escaping her when he sucked on a tender spot, to which he immediately stopped.

His lips pulled away from her, a confident grin still on his face. "Yes, darling?" 

“Are you sure? If you want this, I mean.”

His hand went up to her neck, fingers placed behind her ear while his thumb traced her jawline. “Feeding from you? Oh, you know it’s my favourite pastime.” 

“Not the feeding. The kissing.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes retracted as if he was suddenly shy, roaming over the sheets next to them. “I didn’t mean to… I just felt like it. If you don’t want me to-”

“No, no,” she interrupted as she put her hand upon his. “I like it. I really do. I just want you to know that we don’t have to… go all the way through with it. We can stop at any time, alright?”

His eyes met hers again. “Darling, I tend to finish what I’ve started.” He neared her face with his, staring at her lips. “But thank you. For saying that.” 

Crashing his mouth against hers, he kissed her deeply, his hand on her neck pulling her even closer. His lips like velvet brushed against hers so smoothly, leaving hers agape. He let himself fall back onto the mattress, pulling her with him so she could straddle his hips. 

Astarion smiled as he looked up at her. “I missed this, you know.”

“So did I,” she replied, voice hardly above a whisper before closing the gap between them once more. The kiss was more tender, some kind of promise woven within as their tongues met, until she felt him getting hard beneath her. It was his turn to gasp now, followed by a chuckle when he felt her rolling her hips against him. 

“I can tell,” he mumbled between kisses, his fingers playing with the strap of her robe and quickly untying the knot. Falling open, the robe granted him a view of her figure, delicious and relaxed, that made it impossible to keep his hands to himself. He reached between the fabric, hands running up her sides, thumbs softly touching the plump skin on the underside of her breasts. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered into the night without fully realising it, before pulling her close again. A searing kiss with her fingers raking through his hair followed as the robe slipped from her shoulders, now only attached to her at the sleeves around her underarms. 

She pulled them off, tossed the gown to the side, and unbuttoned his shirt in return. Astarion watched her nimble fingers work and decided to help by pulling it over his head, soon to join her gown on the floor. With nothing but his trousers between them, she felt his erection grow harder and ground against him once more, marking his trousers with a trail of her wetness. 

“Now, now,” he cautioned. “Leave some for me to taste you, will you?” He sat up, pressed a kiss to her burning lips and proceeded to turn her over, so she was on her back. Hovering above her, his eyes darkened ever so slightly, a hungry grin plastered across his face before he made his way down to her core.

Just thinking about it made her head spin, how he would touch her there, savour the essence between her legs. Not tonight though, she thought as her hand found his hair, tugging lightly on it when he was halfway down. Astarion looked at her, a question hanging between them.

“As much as I’d love you to do that, I want this to be about you. I want to make you feel good,” she said, holding his chin gently between her fingers.

Astarion blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers as he studied her for a moment. “Oh.”

“Is that okay?” she asked and he seemed to think of what to say. What he wanted.

“I suppose it is, yes,” he then said, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards, showing off a dimple. 

She sat up, repressing a smile and took his hand in hers. “Lie down, love. Make yourself comfortable.”

When he did and had nestled himself between the frilly cushions, Tav straddled him again, took his face into her hands and kissed him. Astarion grabbed the outside of her thighs this time, sliding up to the curve of her hip and then back to cup the cheeks of her ass. She smiled into the kiss, letting him touch her however he wanted before she pulled her head back and made her way down his body. 

Both her hands were on his thighs now, starting at his knees and slowly stroking upwards. When she reached his groin he released a shaky breath, looking at her intently. She began to undo his trousers, so he pushed his hips up, helping her to get rid of the pesky garment once and for all. Turning back to him, her hands went straight to the tent that had formed beneath his briefs, touching him through the last layer of fabric. Astarion’s breathing turned shallower when she pulled them off him too, leaving him bare before her. With his erection freed, she took in the sight of him, making sure to etch the image into her memories forever.

“I’m afraid I can’t find the words to describe how perfect you look for me,” she told him as she reached for his dick. Pumping it once, twice, and still watching him react to her touches, she asked, “Does that feel good for you?”

He nodded, eyes half-lidded as if her movements had him entranced. “It does, yes. More than good.”

Her thumb brushed over his tip, spreading the bead of precum that had accumulated before she bent down. With a flattened tongue, she licked a stripe from bottom to top, looking Astarion in the eyes to see his lids close, brows knitted and mouth agape, sucking in a hiss of approval. Pleased with his reaction, she pumped him again, then wrapped her lips around him, softly at first, and swirled her tongue around the top. Working her way down, she tried to take more of him each time, stroking her hand down the part that didn’t fit. Her tongue flattened when she bobbed down and twirled around the tip when she came back up, sucking in her cheeks and leaving Astarion a panting mess. 

Somehow, with his eyes still closed, his hands found their way into her hair and proceeded to guide her up and down on him at the pace he desired. She felt herself getting wetter then, having achieved just what she wanted - to be there for him, to serve him and to make this special night all about him and his needs. Moans filled the air when he approached his climax and she almost smiled with his dick in her mouth, still led up and down by his hands. His voice was like music to her ears, she could tell how close he was by the way his fingers gripped her scalp and the twitch in his hips, so she brought her free hand around his balls, cradling them with light touches, silently inviting him to let go.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, his fingers twisting even tighter in her hair. “I, ah!” 

There it was, she thought, he was going to spill into her mouth any second. But then, right before he could, while cursing out a string of stressed moans, he pulled her off him. His chest was heaving, she realised, now that she could look at him again, a thin film of sweat spread across his forehead. “What’s wrong?”, she asked.

“Nothing, darling,” he said between deep breaths. “I just… It’s been a while, as you know, and I don’t want it to be over this quickly. I want this to last as long as I can possibly manage, which certainly will not be as long as I’d wish for it to be, judging by my current state. But there’s more I want to do with you. To you.”

He sat up and held her by the waist, meeting her with yet another kiss, tasting himself on her tongue as his erection pressed against her skin. Pushing her down by the shoulders, he made them switch positions, so he was on top again. 

“My turn,” he quipped, with a boyish smirk and began to kiss his way down her body. Hands on her chest, he squeezed her breasts tenderly, his mouth hovering over her left nipple.

“Wait,” she said, despite herself.

He stilled his movements, looking back at her. “Yes?”

"I wanted you to enjoy yourself fully tonight, you know," she began until his thumb circled her nipple, causing her eyes to shut close.

“Do I look like I’m not having fun?” he asked, resting his head down on her tit while he lazily massaged the other one.

“Oh, you do, believe me. But what I had in mind was more focused on you, not me. I’d rather please you than have you please me tonight.”

He chuckled to himself, eyes meeting hers again. “Darling, this is pleasing me. That’s exactly why I do it. For my pleasure. And yours of course. What I’m saying is, seeing you come undone by my hand, or tongue, or cock… is what I want most right now.”

She grinned and rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head with a laugh.

Astarion appeared serious in contrast, a pleading look on his features. “Please, let me do this.”

The laugh caught in her throat when she realised he truly meant it. He wanted to make her come for his pleasure. So she swallowed once and answered, “Okay then. Do as you wish.”

He let out a hum of approval as he began to suck on her nipple, his teeth scraping lightly across the surrounding skin. Tav’s breath hitched when he went for the other one, forcing her eyes to remain open. She needed to see every second of this.

He kissed a line down her stomach, his breath fanning into her navel when he settled between her legs. His expression was downright obscene as he kissed the tender skin on her inner thigh, eyes never leaving hers. His fangs had pricked the thin flesh, if intended or not, she didn’t know. A single droplet of blood gathered around the tiny wound, quickly wiped away by Astarion’s tongue. Another hum from him, his eyes flickering closed as he savoured the taste of her while his hands drew patterns and neared her core. 

She didn’t notice she was holding her breath when Astarion’s lips pressed a kiss to her pussy. 

“So wet, my darling,” he mused. “Just for me.” 

All she could do was nod between moans as he finally pressed his mouth against her and let his tongue dance over her clit. Her head snapped upwards, eyes on the ceiling above while he circled her, teased her and groaned deliciously into her skin. She pushed herself to look back down and watch him, his eyes already on her as he continued lapping and sucking at a torturous pace. Closing his eyes with what she interpreted as a grin, he brought a finger to her entrance, lightly pushing until it was inside of her. There was hardly any resistance, her body was so ready for him, welcoming all he had to give with ease. So he pushed and pulled a few times, then added a second finger while his tongue still worked its wonders on her. 

It felt like she was breathing fire, her lungs threatening to burst when he curled his fingers inside of her. Moans turned into screams and she instinctively threw her hands to his head, clutching his curls for dear life, pulling him even closer while this rogue bastard devoured her like a god. 

“I’m going to come,” she managed curtly, face already scrunched into a heavenly grimace. 

Astarion didn’t answer, focused on the task at hand and kept working her towards the finish line until everything inside her seemed to explode. Her entire body tensed, limbs convulsing as she screamed his name, surges of pleasure rippling through every muscle, every inch of her. Wave after mind-numbing wave crashed against her but he didn’t stop, didn’t break the contact between them and when she felt the orgasm begin to fade, Astarion sped up his movements, fingers and tongue ceaselessly striving to reach his goal a second time. He succeeded almost immediately. Just when she thought her breath would steady, when her twitching legs seemed to relax, another peak hit her, and this time it squeezed all the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t gasp or scream anymore, only endure as the glorious rush made her lose her mind. Tav pulled Astarion off her, gasping for air and fell back into the pillows, chest heaving with a dull smile on her face.

He towered over her, grinning wickedly at the state of her before wiping the back of his hand over his drenched mouth. “That was to your liking, I take it?”

She didn't answer, unable to find the strength yet, just waving her hand at him as she tried to come to her senses. Astarion laughed softly as he watched her chest move, the beads of sweat that had formed all over her body glistening in the light until she was capable of thinking again.

She got up in a daze, Astarion sitting upright on his knees in front of her, his hands resting on his lap, erection still visible. Tav crawled over to him, mirroring his position and kissed him at the same time as her fingers wrapped around his dick. He was still rock hard, breathing heavily into the kiss. “You nearly killed me, I’m afraid,” she whispered against the skin of his neck. “I’ll have to pay you back in kind.” His head fell back with a sigh as she pumped him faster, eager to give the man she loved so much the pleasure he had given her. 

She pulled his head back towards her, the need to watch him enjoy himself too strong. And he showed her everything, every twitch of an eyelid as she rolled her wrist around him, the way his mouth fell open when she squeezed him harder, or the deep line that formed between his eyebrows when he tensed. He moaned sharply and just when she thought he’d release, Astarion grabbed the hand that was working on him.

Tav stopped her movements, afraid she’d done something wrong or that he wasn’t ready, that it still might be too much for him. “Are you all right?”

He brought her hand towards his face and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Quite alright, my dear.”

“What’s the matter then?”

He eased her worries with a smile, pulling her closer by the waist. “I don’t want it to end like this tonight. I want something else. More.”

Anything, she’d do anything for him. “And what is it that you want?”

Shadows fell upon his eyelids as he bent his head down, still maintaining eye contact. “I want to fuck you.”

Her mouth fell open for a split second before she could nod. Too eager it seemed, as Astarion grinned at her reaction. “Lie down, darling.”

She followed his instructions and let him get on top before he pressed himself against her, supporting his weight with one arm. Another kiss, short and sweet, contradictory to the situation was placed on her lips as he lined himself up at her entrance. And when he pushed himself in, all the air seemed to leave her lungs once again. He did it slowly, watching her reactions closely, as he entered her inch by inch. They moaned in unison when he bottomed out, some wicked sense of relief, a feeling of wholeness, uniting them. He pulled back equally as slow, a need to prolong and savour this moment for as long as possible spreading in his chest. She reached for his face, holding onto each side delicately as he rocked back and forth, her mouth falling open when he hit a particular spot. 

“Do you want me to turn around for you?” she asked, her thumb caressing his earlobe.

“No,” he whispered. “I need to look at you right now.”

That somehow left her speechless and she returned to enjoying the feeling of him fucking her slowly as well as the sight he granted her with. He didn’t speed up his movements but ground into her harder after a while, unable to resist the temptation any longer, already panting from how turned on he was. His voice was quiet, barely audible to her, had she not paid such close attention. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He sang it like a poem with every snap of his hips against hers. 

“I love you too,” she replied, pressing her fingers tighter against his neck in confirmation.

“No, you don’t understand,” he sighed, still moving in and out. “I Iove you.” 

Something wet landed on her chest, a warm droplet of some sort. A single tear, she quickly realised, that had fallen from Astarion’s eyes. She wiped away its trace on his cheek and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. She’d hold him like this until the end of time if he needed her to, would tell him how much he meant to her for hours on end if he only asked. “I love you, too,” she replied with certainty until their lips met yet again. Her tongue found his and she could still taste herself on him, mixed with the salty flavour of another tear, which must have been hers. 

When they pulled back and looked at each other, Astarion was still fucking her at a leisurely pace. He exhaled a laugh and said, “Sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The crying and all.”

Tav smiled, wiping away her own tears. “It’s okay, I don’t mind a bit of sappiness every once in a while.”

“Enough of that, I say,” he answered and sped up his movements. She could feel him hitting even deeper now, more determined than before and as he turned her hips at an angle, she knew the coil in her belly was about to snap again. He held her feet to his chest, leaning over her like a magnificent predator as he thrust into her again and again. His other hand went to her clit, rubbing in quick circles, never slowing the rate at which he fucked her. 

Her vision blurred as the third orgasm hit her, eyes rolling back in her head as the pressure became unbearable and she could only scream his name. Astarion moaned at her convulsing around him, her pussy squeezing him even tighter in rhythmic throbs. He came with his head falling back, releasing his seed into her hot cunt with a few more hard thrusts. He fell on top of her then, muscles finally unwinding and his mind free of everything but her.

They stayed like that for a long while, sticky bodies pressed together, limbs tangled and Astarion’s dick still sheathed inside of her. There was no need to talk, they knew what the other one was thinking anyway, so they held each other until sleep pulled them from consciousness.

@bg3-fanfic-reblogs

[folkwhoredoll]

by the shore - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader (friends with benefits)

synopsis: being friends with rafe has its benefits

word count: 1.7k

warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex), few curse words

request: rafe x Reader, they are best friend that’s are on a family trip that they take every year in summer, reader is good friends with both Sarah and rafe, rafe and reader are a bit tipsy messing around and find their way to the beach and that’s were the smut happens :) hope you can do it thank you.

a/n: hi everyone! it's been a while since my last post because things got busy in nursing school but since it's summer break, i can now post again! thank you to the one who requested this <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

➶-͙˚ ༘✶

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the beachfront estate where you and the Camerons vacationed every summer. The annual family trip was a cherished tradition, one you eagerly anticipated each year. It started long before you even entered school, a yearly event your parents initiated to celebrate their friendship with the Camerons. Naturally, you also formed a growing friendship with Sarah and Rafe.

Though, if you were honest, "friendship" didn't quite describe the bond between you and Rafe. Whether you and the Cameron heir were dating was unclear, but he acted like you were most of the time. Almost no boys dared to ask you out, not with Rafe always glaring at them from behind you. He accompanied you almost everywhere, even pretending you were his girlfriend to keep other girls away.

But your relationship with Rafe wasn't simply a friendship because of what you two did behind closed doors. It was no secret that Rafe had several experiences, his natural charisma drawing girls to him. Perhaps that's why you couldn't resist him when he told you he admired you months ago. He was your first.

Not one soul knows about it; you couldn't risk it.

The evening air was filled with laughter and clinking glasses as your families gathered on the deck, enjoying the night of their getaway. You felt a pleasant buzz from the beer you and Rafe had been sipping, the alcohol buzzing through your veins. Sarah had to excuse herself to answer a call from Topper, leaving you and Rafe alone under the twinkling fairy lights.

Rafe grinned at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wanna take a walk down to the beach?" he suggested, his voice slightly blurred but full of excitement.

You smiled back and nodded eagerly, the idea of sneaking for a late-night adventure sounding perfect. "Absolutely. Let's go back before Sarah gets back and decides to drag us into some boring game."

Rafe laughed, a deep, infectious sound that made your heart flutter. The combination of alcohol and the intimate setting seemed to excite you.

The two of you stumbled down the wooden steps leading to the beach, giggling and shushing each other while your hands gripped tightly around your beer bottles. The fine sand was cool beneath your feet and the ocean waves lapping gently at the shore.

Rafe motioned for you to sit near a large rock, sitting down first to make sure that it was comfortable enough. You positioned yourself beside him, sighing contently as you took in the view before you.

"Remember when Sarah and I built a sandcastle when we were like, ten? Then you ruined it with your soccer ball." You said.

"In my defense, I didn't mean to kick it towards your castle." Rafe chuckled at the memory. "And I got the worst punishment from you because you refused to speak to me for a week."

You hummed, sipping more of your beer. "Still not over it."

He snorted, leaning his head back.

The next moments were spent in silence. You and Rafe took turns drinking what was left from the bottle, smiling whenever you would make eye contact, and leaning closer and closer to him until your shoulders touched.

You took a deep breath when you felt Rafe kiss your cheek suddenly. "What was that for?"

"What? Can't I kiss you?" He smiled innocently. "It's not like we haven't done anything more than a kiss."

You threw him a look, knowing that in a few moments, you would be doing something that friends don't normally do. How Rafe could always be turned on, you could never understand. But you don't complain, not when your hormones also betray you every time you see his muscles strain from his tight shirt.

"Come on, Y/n. No one can see us from here." He whispered, his breath tickling your skin as he lowered his face to your neck.

You didn't say anything, and Rafe took it as a sign to move further, abandoning his beer to the side. He placed one hand on your thigh and another hand on your waist. Your head was spinning from both the alcohol and Rafe's hands, suddenly not able to speak as you savor the moment of his lips on your neck.

"What would our parents say when they find out what we do?" He wondered teasingly, smirking when he saw you discreetly push your thighs together. He loved you like this: submissive as you let him do whatever he wanted.

"Probably celebrate. They've been teasing us for years." You finally replied, a laugh coming from your throat as you remembered the times when they would try to set the two of you up in every gathering.

Rafe suddenly lifted the skirt of your sundress, causing you to gasp. "Out here? Really?"

His other hand moved from your waist to your back, feeling for the zipper of your dress. "It's a perfect spot. No one can see us or hear us unless you scream, of course."

His cocky attitude made you roll your eyes, though your cunt already fluttered at the thought of being bare under his body as the sunset. "We have to be fast, got it?"

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you tilted your body, swiftly pushing him back so you could move on top and straddle him. Rafe, although shocked by your sudden movement, smiled cheekily as he witnessed you reach to your back to unzip your dress.

"Damn, baby." He breathed as he eyed the way the straps of the dress dropped, hastily helping you to get out of your clothing. He licked his lips as he stared at the sight of you. Your breasts perked up as the cool sea breeze touched your skin, leaving you in your underwear.

"Take it off, Rafe." You told him, helping him take off the shirt that accentuated his muscles.

Following your request, Rafe moved quickly and placed his shirt on the sand beside the two of you, lifting your hips and guiding you to lay on his shirt.

He finished removing the rest of his clothing, never cutting eye contact with you even as he pulled his cock out. You made a quick look back to the house, making sure that you were not within anyone's eyesight.

You gasped as Rafe pulled your panties down, your cunt fluttering at the excitement. He lowered his head down until it was leveled with your pussy, his manhood hardening at the sight of your wet folds.

Without warning, he gave your cunt a long lick, pushing his warm tongue as deep as he could reach. You moaned loudly and quickly gripped his hair, your back arching as he sucked on your clit.

Rafe reached a hand upwards to cover your mouth, not too tight to restrict you from breathing but just enough to muffle your moans. Your chest heaving as you gasped, the alcohol and his tongue working together to give you the best pleasure.

Rafe himself was groaning as he enjoyed the sight of your writhing body, his heart swelling with pride, knowing that it was only him who could make you feel that way.

Your moans were exchanged with whines when he suddenly moved away from your pussy, kneeling in front of you as he stroked his stiff dick.

"You said we have to be fast." He chuckled, teasing you. "Ready, baby?"

After seeing you nod, Rafe pushed himself inside you, a loud groan erupting from his lips as he felt your warm and wet folds around him.

"Best cunt in the world." He whispered to himself.

You let out a loud moan as he filled you completely, growing needy and desperate for a release. "Move, Rafe. Make me cum, please."

Your words sounded like music to Rafe's ears, further feeding his ego. "Since you asked nicely."

In one quick movement, Rafe thrust in and out of you, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he could reach deeper.

The sounds of both of your breaths were mixed with the sound of the ocean waves as sweat grew on the surface of your skin. You were shamelessly whining and moaning in every thrust while Rafe was closing his eyes as he groaned in pleasure.

He pushed your other leg upwards, having you nearly folded in half as he pushed harder. He looked down to where you two were connected, his cock twitching at the sight. "Taking me so well, baby. Come on, I know you're close."

You were panting, breathless, and unable to speak. Your hands were clawing on Rafe's shoulder, wanting to push him away from the overwhelming feeling.

"R-Rafe…" You breathed out, feeling your pussy pulsate around him.

"Yes, Y/n. Go on, cum for me." He urged you, his pace never stopping nor slowing down.

You looked at him, admiring how he looked with his disheveled hair and warm cheeks. His muscles were tensing as he thrusted faster.

Without warning, he pulled your legs apart slightly, just enough so he could reach your clit with his hand. You almost screamed at the contact, another surge of gratification taking over your body as he pinched your bud.

"Fuck, Rafe!"

He smiled, hips going faster until he felt you cum around his cock. Your hips were jerking upward as you released, thighs shaking as you squirted on him.

Rafe moaned loudly, and after a few more thrusts, he released his load inside of you, not letting a drop go to waste.

You were quiet as you panted underneath Rafe, your legs still shaking occasionally while you enjoyed the feeling of both of your cum inside you.

Rafe was whispering compliments in your ear softly, stroking your skin as he slowly pulled himself out. He then helped you back into your underwear and dress, gently guiding you as you regained your balance. Rafe was quicker as he dressed himself up, grabbing your hand immediately and leading you back to the house.

"Let's clean up inside before Sarah finds us here."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write for jacaerys, or aemond, about reader who thinks she'll never be enough? Thank youuu!

Warning: mentions of starving one’s self and self deprecation. Also I’m sorry if this seems short, I’m half asleep when I write this.

Jacaerys tried to do his best to make sure that you knew that you were worth everything and so more than you could have possibly imagined. He doesn’t want you to ever consider in thinking negatively of yourself because you were very, very important to him and he doesn’t take it lightly when you did.

So when he had noticed a decline in your overall mood and your tendency to reframe from doing anything other then staying within the comfort of your chambers, only breaking this habit whenever you were feeling the need to satisfy your hunger. So it was only natural for Jace to have become gravely worried and began fearing the worst the longer he witnessed your subtle but evident decline in health.

Jace hated feeling useless and there wasn’t a time where he hated this feeling more so was when it pertains to you, especially if it was something that could’ve been easily dealt with had he been made aware of earlier, but he was more concerned with where you mind is in this moment and would gently guide you outside the castle; sitting you down with a view of the ocean nearby as company.

‘What’s wrong.’ He asked softly.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ You reply, not wanting to fully admit to everything just yet as you fiddled with your fingers.

Jace saw this nervous habit of yours and grabbed your hands in his, intertwining your fingers together as he looks at you with concern written across his dark eyes. ‘I think you do,’ he says softly as he watched you swallow thickly, ‘you haven’t been yourself as of late and I want to know what that is.’ He adds as you sigh, knowingly that he was too stubborn of a man to let this go after a simple ‘I’m okay.’ You’ve down that before and it didn’t go over well for you as Jace forced himself into the position of your caretaker on the occasion where you couldn’t find the strength to get out of bed after starving yourself for days on end.

He was mad, extremely mad, but he still fed you food as though you were made out of porcelain.

‘I don’t feel as though I am enough Jace.’ You admitted weakly. ‘I am not worth the effort you go through in keeping me upright when I have failed myself at every opportunity in my life.’ You added as you bit back the tears that were threatening to spill out. ‘I’m not worth much in general.’

Jace clenched his jaw at this but understood that you didn’t want him angry on your behalf, you wanted him to be your anchor in these turbulent times that partook within your head, taking in a deep breath Jace regained his composure. ‘That’s a falsehood and we both know it.’ He began as he moved in close to you, making sure that you were the only one who could hear his voice clearly, using the sound of waves crashing against the rocks of the beach as a way to prevent someone from eavesdropping on your conversation.

‘You are worth all the troubles we may come across, and I will not have you doubt that in any capacity, for I shall not hear you speak of such lies about yourself when you are my reason for being.’ He adds as he makes sure to look you in the eye to let you know that he was being deadly serious, wanting you to know that no matter what he was going to be by your side through the worst and best of times because that was the kind of man he was.

‘Jace-‘

‘No, I swear by my word that I will not let you suffer alone, for to loose you is to lose a vital part of me in return.’ Jace intervenes, raising your has to press a reassuring kiss to the back of it whilst giving it a firm reassuring squeeze. ‘The wars within your head maybe difficult and may seem impossible to overcome but you are stronger then you think, smarter then you know and far more resilient then the strongest men I know.’ He continues with a smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead before resting his head against your forehead. ‘I’m right here with you, I’m not going anywhere when you need me.’

You couldn’t help but let a few tears spill over as you allowed Jace to hold you in his arms, hushing you softly as he whispered reassuring whispers into your ear as the sounds of waves crashing against rock were all you could hear, knowing you were okay.

[tamayakii]

Hi I read your post about yan!Tywin and that you have more inc*st headcanons about him and I’m interested if you’re cool with that 🫣

hehe thank you anon for giving me the chance to talk about this <3

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, incest, yandere themes, female!reader, nsfw, is it bare or bear, tama asks herself BY PROCEEDING PAST THIS WARNING, YOU ARE THEREFORE CONSENTING TO VIEW THIS CONTENT.

Being Tywin's pretty pretty girl, dressed in the finest of silks and jewelry, the lady of the rock from a young age.

Whilst, of course, you weren't married, people came to view you as Lady of the Rock, which ofc didnt help with Tywin's delusions.

Okay but listen, him HIDING your monthly bleed from the world. Threatening maids that if a slip of your monthly bleed comes out that they’d lose their eyes. So westeros comes to know you as a woman with no viable womb, right? that means you have no value in being married off cause you “can’t bear children” therefore you’d his, no one would fight for your hand.

Losing your virginity to Papa Tywin, riding the same cock that helped made you, imagine a little bit of blood seepin on his cock when he first thrusts into you 😭😭 the same blood that flows through him, smeared across his loins.

BUT IMAGINE PAPA TYWIN BRINGING YOU TO THE RED KEEP WHEN HES HAND OF THE KING :(( you can’t fuck more openly now, back his casterly rock he had more control but in the castle where the rodents kill the cats, it’s a death sentence to be found out.

THAT MAN SUCKS TITTY!! i just know it!! hes a rough one too, harshly sucking on his granddaughters tits whilst sitting at his desk, palming your hips as you grind against him.

For awhile he was reasonable, you couldn’t be with child, at least to the world but as his delusions deepen, he tampers with your moon tea, and practically locks you in your room.

You’re HIS alone, HE made you.

Any man that offers his hand to you is gone, any winning knight that names you the queen of love and beauty in tournaments is suddenly crippled for life.

Your entire LIFE is controlled by him, i cannot emphasize this enough. The very air you breathe might as well be permitted by him, your meals are controlled, you garden time- oh and the GARDEN WALKS!!! When Tywin has a little time to spare and you bat your eyelashes at him, he finds that he can stomach a walk around the beautiful flowers(tho they arent as beautiful as you), servants tending to the bushes and trees find that you cling a little too close, lips a little too pouted and breasts pushed against his arm a bit much but can they say a word? no.

[gemissleeping]

Sea Foam | Chapter Two

Theodore Nott x Siren!Reader

Read Chapter One here.

Summary: After almost pulling him to the bottom of the Black Lake the night prior, Theodore Nott can’t keep his mind off of you. But you worry things aren’t all that they may seem to him.

Length: 2.7k

Notes: More brash (kind of dark) Theo. Angst. Not smutty just saucy. Not very pc comment about drugs/addiction (but it’s a UK high school in the 90s so… real). Featuring Blaise & Milli the peak friend duo. Sprinkle of hurt/comfort if you squint. Thanks for reading, love you guys <3

When you pulled yourself from the depths of the lake an hour before sunrise, the shoreline was empty and he was gone. You could barely remember anything save for a string of flashes; his lips on yours, hands hungry for each other as you had tangled yourself in him. How you were supposed to face him in the halls today, you didn’t know. You hauled yourself onto some rocks outside of the castle’s view. A tremor running through you like a gentle current, as it always did the next day. Evasion, you eventually settled on, would be your best hope. At least until you decided what you were going to do.

An hour or so later, you were making your way towards the Great Hall. The salt licked curls of your hair the only evidence that last night might’ve happened at all. Only a few students sat, littered across their House tables. The early morning sun was casting patterns through the windows, most students likely still in the middle of their dreams.

Theo would be running Quidditch practice around now, so you wouldn’t have to fret the possibility of your paths crossing. Unfortunately, that also meant you’d have to leave before Milli and Blaise got back from practice too.

Lifting your teacup with unsteady fingers, you sat at the Slytherin table, flipping through The Daily Profit without really taking any of it in. Students slowly piling in with heavy eyes, soft yawns and hushed chatter. Filling the Great Hall until the sound rose to a low, inviting hum.

You took a hesitant bite of some plain toast, never feeling that you could stomach much after a full moon. Your attempt was soured quickly, the toast going down the way you imagined gravel might. Deciding you couldn’t eat anything more, you folded over the paper, going to stand just as a hand clamped down on your shoulder with far too much energy for the current hour.

“Alright Darling?” Blaise Zabini’s melodic voice rang out as he stepped over the bench. Taking a seat beside you with a shit eating grin.

“She’s still waking up Blaise, be nice.” Milli scolded as she sat across from you, her freckled cheeks undoubtedly blushed from the morning air.

“From those dark circles I’m not sure she slept at all.” Blaise quipped, stealing the toast from your plate as you sighed, unimpressed. “You and Nott are two of a kind this morning,” he added, demolishing half of the toast in a single bite as you stilled.

Nausea licked at your stomach, trying to crawl it’s way up. You went to speak, but your voice was lost for a moment as you caught sight of a set of sleep torn, dark blue eyes. They’d cut through the sea of students, found you even from the doorway. You swallowed, flicking open the newspaper on the table again and tearing your eyes away as you cleared your throat.

“What do you mean?” You asked, trying not to appear overly nervous as you glanced over at Milli, who was practically trying to live inside of her coffee mug.

“Looks like he was dragged through a bush backwards,” she echoed into her cup. Only taking a momentary break to answer your question before going back to drowning in her coffee. Panic flickered through your chest as you took another precarious sip of tea, a headache was forming now.

Against your will, you felt your eyes sweep across the gathered students at the Slytherin table. Locking straight onto those same tired eyes as Theo took a seat further down the table. Already looking at you from beside Matt and Enzo. Barely listening to a word either of them were saying as he watched you with an unreadable expression. You felt yourself inhale harshly before dragging yourself away from him. Doing your best to push him to the bottom of your mind as you tuned back into your friends.

“Understatement of the century,” Blaise chimed, polishing off the toast. “Whichever girl of his he shagged last night has him proper messed. Could barely even run drills this morning.” You almost choked on your tea at Blaise’s comment.

“Blaise,” Milli sighed, dropping her empty cup to the table, “you have absolutely no decorum.”

“Which is exactly why you keep me around,” Blaise grinned, pointing at her with his fork. “How else would you two get any of the gossip?”

Milli shook her head fondly as you managed to put on a small smile. Pushing your hands towards the teapot to refill your cup, very aware that Theo was still transfixed on you.

“Jesus, you’re shaking like the smack addict my Mum dated in Third Year.” Blaise crowed as you lifted your magically filled cup, barely managing to keep the tea inside of it. “Anyway enough about Theo’s ugly mug. I’ll get it out of him in Divination.”

“Rather out of character for your Mother.” Milli frowned curiously over her eggs, distracted.

“Well, you know how it goes. His wallet was heavy,” Blaise stated simply, peering over at you with discernment before turning back to Milli for a moment, “good smack’s expensive you know.”

“I don’t.” She glowered.

“Well now you do.” Blaise was looking at you sideways again. He was, unfortunately, even more perceptive than most people believed.

“And what of your Mum’s smacked up ex lovers - dead now I’m assuming?” Milli chimed from across the table. You felt Blaise’s calculating eyes leave you, utterly unamused as he turned his attention to her.

“And you say I have no decorum.”

“Neither of you should throw stones in glass houses,” you murmured, lips against your teacup as you blinked tiredly between your two friends.

“She speaks,” Blaise smiled, a slither of his concern seeming to melt away. Your friends were admittedly idiots, but they both cared for you deeply.

“Seriously though,” Milli spoke up across from you both, “are you alright? You got in after me last night.”

“Fine, just getting my ass handed to me in Potions this year.” The pair shared a glance, but neither pressed further.

The rest of the day had been long, leaving you bone-tired. Through all of the classes you had shared, you could feel Theo stealing glances at you. Perhaps he was angry, or merely curious, confused even. But it did nothing to ease the guilt and embarrassment that was rising through you. It wasn’t until Potions last period when Matt started laughing suddenly from beside him that a thought dawned on you.

You felt like a fool for not having got to it sooner, though you hadn’t exactly been clear headed today. Especially not with this headache, which had only grown. Occasionally gracing you with unwelcome fragments of last night in the middle of your Professors’ lecturing. Yet it hadn’t occurred to you until now; what if Theo told someone about last night?

You’d known him, all of the Slytherins, since you were little. In passing mostly at Galas and Dinners, but you’d never been overly close. Who was to say that he wouldn’t? Your Father had gone to every length to keep your ailment hidden, it was an embarrassment to him. In his eyes you were the worst kind of half-blood, a reminder of his weakness. It couldn’t get out, it would ruin him, ruin you.

You knew what that meant, what you had to do. Whether you could bring yourself to was something else entirely. It was while you were making your way to the Common Room after Potions, thinking about how you would do it. Brow creased with the weight of it all, when a low, strained voice spoke from behind you.

“That’s not fair.”

You turned back in surprise to see Theo at the far end of the hall. His chest rising and falling rapidly, tie loosened as he ran his hand along his jaw. The sight of him sending a wave of memories through your mind as you began to feel unsteady.

Blaise and Milli had been right. While you’d been avoiding so much as breathing in his direction all day, you hadn’t looked at him, not properly. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all, the undersides of his eyes practically bruised from the lack of rest.

You felt yourself frowning softly as you tried to make sense of his words, choking on your own. “Excuse me?”

“It’s not fair. If you get to remember, and I have to forget.” He called back with a quiet anger, watching intently. Searching your eyes for something. You froze, locked on him in shock as the realisation slowly swept you.

He knew you had been thinking of obliviating him.

“You’re the reason I’ve had a headache all day.” You murmured, eyes widening with the gravity of Theo’s invasion dawning on you. He walked towards you carefully, like he couldn’t help himself.

“And you’re the reason I can’t think of anything. Except for-“

His eyes fell to your lips.

You knew you should go, turn and walk away. But as he approached, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Completely stuck under his gaze. Distracted by the way his dark curls caught the fleeting light, the shadow against the slope of his nose. You saw him smile as he read you for filth, flitting through your head with ease. Your breath caught as you slammed him out, cheeks flushed.

“You’ve been using legilimency on me?” You seethed in a hush.

“I have,” he admitted, eyes darkening, “and you almost drowned me in the Black Lake. So I guess we’re both bad people.”

He took a step closer to you, and then another. Until he was so unbearably close that you were forced to look up at him. Theo was already watching you, gaze darting between your lips and your eyes as if he had no control over any of it.

“You should’ve listened to me when I told you to go,” you whispered, your own eyes falling to his lips before flickering back to his, cheeks still running warm.

You could feel your chest hammering, breath picking up. Flashes of the night prior came back to you in a flood and you broke away, taking a rushed step back from the tense stare of the boy before you. It had been him, all day it had been him, ever since breakfast.

“Stop doing that,” you gasped. Trying to shove him out of your mind again. But instead your back hit the pillar behind you with enough force to dash the air from your lungs. He closed in.

“Not until you talk to me,” Theo breathed. Eyes trailing lazily across your features in pursuit of something.

You only shook your head, unable to break the gaze he was holding. “We need to stay away from each other.”

But you didn’t mean it, he could hear it. An unbecoming frown pulled him closer to you until you were only a breath away. Theo tilted his head, as though he was failing at unraveling your mind this time. His hand raised, fingertips hesitating towards the exposed skin of your neck.

You knew better than this, knew that you should push him away the way you had last night. Knew that it wasn’t real. But when his fingers brushed so barely across your skin, dancing their way up to your jaw, all rational thought left you.

“I don’t know if I can do that.” He murmured, his face dangerously close to yours.

You faltered as his thumb drew deliberate soft circles across the arch of your cheek. Eyes burning with shame as the guilt of last night clawed at you, “I could’ve killed you.”

“But you didn’t.” Theo muttered, his other hand circling the loose sleeve of your shirt. Fingers brushing past it, pushing it up further as he explored. The rough callouses on his fingertips dancing along your arm as he continued to drown in your eyes. Thumb still running gently across your cheek. Until it faltered, a frown flickering across his features.

Trailing across the skin of your forearms, were a string of welts; left by the snaring kelp you had buried yourself in. His eyes softened as his fingers left your cheek, gently pulling the sleeve of your shirt higher with a frown.

You flinched, pulling your arm back to your side. The burning sensation ripping you into reality once again. “Believe me, I tried.”

“What can I do?” He asked, far more softly than you had ever heard him speak. “I want to help you.”

Your eyes stung, wishing that for even a moment you could let yourself believe him. But the truth was that you couldn’t afford to take that chance. You’d had no one to guide you through this after your Mother had left, no clue as to how any of it worked. No textbook had ever helped you, the sirens you found in their pages weren’t like you.

You were alone in this, and you couldn’t let yourself do this to him on the off chance that maybe it was real. Of his own volition and not drawn from him by whatever you had done to him under the full moon. You glanced back up to him as the sun sank through the stained glass windows of the empty hall.

“It’s not real, Theo. The way you feel is a, a reaction,” you could hear the crack in your voice as you sank away from him, “It will pass.”

Theo’s eyes darkened as he took a step back, hurt clouding him. The last of the sun’s warmth leaching from the air as night began to set in.

“Stop,” he breathed as his eyes found the floor, “stop doing that. You keep lying and forgetting that I can hear you.”

“Do you think this is normal?” You pleaded with him, wishing for nothing more than to make him see reason. “I almost killed you.”

“But you didn’t-“

“I wanted to,” you snapped suddenly, your voice cutting through his as pain bloomed in him from your words. “I wanted to,” you said again, softening. “Any second longer and I-“ your eyes fluttered, blinking back tears, “I would have done it. It’s not real, Theo. It’s safer for both of us if we just-”

He wasted no time in cutting you off with his lips. Gently pressing them against yours, one hand tangling tenderly through your salty hair. The other at your jaw, fingertips trailing up to tuck some of the loose strands behind your ear. It was different to last night. Gentle, fragile even. You felt your lips part in a mess of surprise and fear at the sensation. It was all the invitation he needed.

He deepened the kiss, tilting your jaw back and eliciting an involuntary gasp from you. Swallowing the sound with the softness of his lips against yours. Hands running over your skin like he was trying to memories you. His fingers brushing through your hair one last time before he pulled back gently.

“You don’t feel that?” He breathed against you, hopeful eyes lingering as he cradled your face in his palms. But you couldn’t answer him without lying, without admitting that you felt it all too. So instead you avoided his question.

“Don’t you think it’s odd? When you never seemed to before?” You countered, desperately trying to shove whatever he had drawn out of you down. “Forgive me, perhaps I’m inexperienced, or naive. But I’m fairly certain that kind of thing doesn’t happen overnight.” You finished emptily, growing tired of your rising hope.

He straightened, his hand falling from your cheek. Brushing your shoulder before dropping to his side.

“You seem very certain that it did,” Theo conceded. Taking a step back from you, his eyes hardening as he swept your face.

“What?” You breathed, his face perfectly indifferent as he gazed at you, waiting.

“That I never felt that way before last night.” He clarified, narrowing in on you. You stayed like that for a moment, watching each other carefully. Eventually, you let your eyes sink to the floor. Hand coming up to smooth down your hair.

“I won’t ask you again.” You swallowed, brushing past him as the warmth drained from you. You didn’t have to say it, you could feel him on the outside. Begging you to let him through to your mind.

So you left it there like a note upon his doorstep; that you wanted to forget. Even if it wasn’t true

Read Chapter Three here

Taglist: @hemlockmuncher @hoeforvinniehackerrr @moonlightttfae @thecraziestcrayon @itssomeonereading @leona-hawthorne @liaaanie

[ellecdc]

Hii L!! I don't know if requests are still open but I really like how you write whimsical!reader and I've been thinking about it a lot lately. is it possible to write a whimsical!reader with Regulus that's centered outside of the AMWAP universe? Thank u smmm

-spokenfolk

they'd be so cute fr. thanks for requesting 🫶

Regulus Black x whimsical!reader (gender not specified)

Regulus knew he shouldn’t be surprised to find you out here – but his heart thumped in relief when he finally made out your form standing ankle deep in the Black Lake with your face pointed towards the stars above. 

Most people would begin to panic, finding their partner standing in a body of water in the middle of the night all alone. But this was just the kind of thing one learned to expect when dating you.

Expect the unexpected.

“You’re going to have to find a better hiding spot, my love.” He called out to you from the dry edge of the shore. You never spooked at the suddenness of his voice, proving you’d somehow sensed his presence prior to him alerting you of it. 

Though he couldn’t see your face, he could tell you were smiling.

“I wasn’t hiding, Regulus.” You said as if he were being particularly ridiculous. As if he hadn't just spent the better part of an hour looking around the castle for you.

He smiled all too adoringly at your back even though you couldn’t see him. “Could have fooled me.”

You turned at that, offering Regulus a kind smile. Regulus guesses you would be incapable of smiling any other way. “I hope I didn’t worry you terribly.” 

Regulus felt his heart squeeze at the sentiment. He’d likely worry about you for the rest of his life if he were to be quite honest. He’d be happy to do so, however.

“What are you up to, tonight?” He asked instead of answering you.

You turned your smile back towards the sky; Regulus mourned the loss of it. “Recharging.”

He hummed in acknowledgment as if what you just said made any sense at all to him. “Do you think you’ll be much longer?”

You chuckled at him and turned your entire body to face the shore instead. “You cannot rush this Regulus. Why don’t you join me?” You said, opening your arms widely.

Regulus hated to admit how inviting your embrace seemed to him, even at the expense of soaking his pant legs. He held strong, however. 

“I quite like the view from here, thank you.”

You let your arms fall to your sides, but your smile never wavered. 

“It’s very good for your inner vibrations, Regulus. The moon has been charging these waters all month. Tonight is the new moon, so you must recharge tonight, otherwise you’ll be waiting another month to try again.”

Regulus was sure you were trying your hardest to sound stern, but your voice only echoed across the waters like the gentle song of a siren calling him to his watery grave.

And who was he to deny that call?

“Oh, if you insist.” He spoke into the night, not at all begrudgingly removing his shoes and socks before rolling his pant legs up as far as they would go to join you in the lake.

The wattage of your smile rivaled that of the moon not currently present in the sky, acting as a beacon guiding Regulus towards you. 

You spun in your place to once again point your face to the sky while Regulus slotted himself in behind you and wrapped you in his arms, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. 

“You’re supposed to face the stars, Reggie.” You whispered to him.

Regulus hummed into your neck. “Who says I’m not?”

You chuckled, patting Regulus’ hands from their place on your stomach as you allowed him to rock you back and forth gently.

“You’re silly.” You admonished. 

The two of you stood in the water, swaying placidly as if you were being pushed ashore by the meager waves this Lake produced, enjoying the quiet and each other’s company.

“Doesn’t this feel wonderful, Regulus?”

Sitting in the quiet night, alone, with you in his embrace? Yes; Regulus thought this felt very wonderful. 

[bones4thecats]

can I request Malleus Draconia with part dragon! Reader who likes to sleep and rest a lot with him (very greedy and unpolite but very quiet and intimidating some times.) From 🍦-anon , please

You can ignore this if ur too busy , or just do it late ,I don't mind waiting

➸ Dragon-Love; Malleus × Dragon! S/O

Characters: Malleus Draconia A/N: Reader's Dragon-Form inspired by Glory from Wings of Fire! Fanart by DinkysaurusART on X. Reader's Dress and Crown here. ➥ Summary: Many expect the royal couple to be one of the most proper duos in the world. But, what they didn't know, is that deep inside, behind your high-ranks, was a love that could only be described as adorable.

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Malleus Draconia ═════════════════════════╝

🐉 The land was silent. The sun had fallen down from the sky and allowed the moon its chance to emerge and finally create the light its opposite did for 12 hours of the day

🐉 While the sidewalks of Briar Valley were empty and vacant of any sound, minus the occasional chirp of the cricket, the castle still rustled. The royal knights switched their shifts, the night-crew coming in as the day-crew left for their homes to rest from the busy day

🐉 And as that happened. The King and Queen of Briar Valley smiled, they had snuck out like they did almost every night since they were teenagers. The cool breeze brushed past them as they walked together, laughing as they did so

🐉 They may have been older than 178 by then, but that didn't mean they had no sense of child-like inside of them still

🐉 Malleus smiled as he landed on the ground, he held his hand up to allow you to come down the rocks carefully. After all, you were still in your dress you would wear around the castle. The long ends hit the ground with a light poof while you kept up with your husband

🐉 Once you guys reached the edge of a cliff, you could look over everything. You could see your kingdom and your home right beneath you. It was all so... mesmerizing

🐉 The King of Briar Valley looked over at you. Your eyes twinkled in the night, reflecting not only the stars and moon's light, but the wonder and amazement that your continued to have years and years beyond your time at Night Raven College

🐉 He sat down on the edge, his legs dangling over the rocks and motioned for you to join him. You happily sat down next to him. But, after a while of staring at the view, you grew bored. This was far from unnatural. You craved adventure your whole life, and bringing your one and only into it made it better to savor

🐉 Glancing from below and back up to Malleus, your shifted to stand again. Malleus looked up in confusion at you. He was wondering what you were doing

"What are you doing, love?" He asked.

"Just getting a better look." You smiled.

"We've been sitting here for nearly 10 minutes and you want a better view now? What are you planning, dearest?" He teased.

🐉 Looking back at your husband, you began to lean backwards, causing yourself to fall down the mountain and towards the ground. Malleus jumped up and yelled your name in fear. But, instead of lunging after you, he was stuck in shock

🐉 All of a sudden, a large dragon flew up past him and into the sky. Smiling and groaning, Malleus did the same as you, bounding into the sky at full-speed. His large-black form flying alongside yours as you messed around

🐉 Lilia looked up from his bed and out of the window posted next to said furniture. He noticed two dragons flapping around, as if they were two dogs playing around. He smirked and chuckled at the actions of the two beings

🐉 Before he knew it, the two had laid down, cuddling. Their heads placed next to one another's as the larger one, Malleus', wing laid on top of the smaller one's, your, form

"Young love? More like Dragon-Love."

[blackbyrenflowers]

I have an irrational hatred for the eyrie. It's the stupidest castle in the whole series. To even get up to it, you have to navigate on winding steep narrow paths too small for even horses, hoping you dont break your neck. Then you have to climb up six hundred feet in handholds, or if you prefer, baskets that are 2 seconds away from smashing against the rocks and killing you.

And unlike Storm's End or Casterly Rock which have to be surrounded by land and sea to be sieged, the Eyrie has only one entrance to make it really convenient for would-be invaders to cut their food supplies. How do they haul up food? They use oxen! They haul up several hundred pound mammals (how??) to bring up other food and other supplies. Then they kill the cattle and leave them for the falcons once winter rolls around, because they can't take them down with them and you can't survive in the Eyrie once winter hits. Because for some reason, Roland I Arryn decided that a castle he wouldn't be able to inhabit for years at a time would be a great idea.

Sure the view's pretty, but that's all they have going for them. The garden's too thin for a weirwood tree (maybe because you're trying to plant trees several thousand feet in the air) so it kind of sucks anyways. Want a change of scenery? Hope you don't snap your neck coming down from your mountain.

And let me be clear, this has nothing to do with the Arryns. Fine house, I like Jon Arryn, I like sweetrobin, etc. They just have the worst castle in Westeros. I would rather live in Harrenhal. Sure I might die, but at least at least it'd be of an unavoidable curse and not the abomination of logistics that is the eyrie.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

You’ve bewitched me

Summary: A war lasting three years became heavy on the front lines. Many people died and lost their homes from the actions of one kingdom. But to end the war, both kingdoms agreed to seal an alliance through an arranged marriage. Caught in a loveless marriage with the crown prince, a whirlwind of emotions blasts through foreign land as you try to make your life in the enemy kingdom bearable.

Warnings: slow-burn. Leon is a piece of dick in the beginning. angst. eventual smut. arranged marriage. reader is a princess and Leon is the crown prince. enemies to lovers (i think?). inaccurate historical information. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Word Count: 11,222

A/N: sorry for not posting in a while, life’s been a bit tough but I’m back better than ever. I want to make this a mini serious (like probably three chapters) but I’ll see how this goes.

[pt.2][pt.3]

“I just can’t say goodnight” — Cosmic, Red Velvet

The Three-Year War was the start of a new era. An era in which two rival kingdoms finally join together in an allegiance. But the memory of how the war began was one that all too many remembered deeply.

It started with a small fight between the two kings over a land of territory that was unowned to either kingdom. Your father, the king of the Kingdom of the Coast, had found a mine in which gold was discovered. Immense amounts of gold hidden beneath the layers of rock called for his attention, which also called the attention of another king.

The Kingdom of the West noticed some strange activity in between the borders of both kingdoms, and the king sent a small army to figure out what was going on. Much to his surprise, the soldiers found citizens of the kingdom of the coast roaming close to the border that separated the two kingdoms and were immediately drawn to the defensive. The two kingdoms hated each other, although not a surprising fact. Both sides argued about who gets to own the mine, debates and meetings sparked between both kings, both claiming the mine was their right.

You didn’t know the full story, as princess of your kingdom, your duty didn’t lie with politics and war. Your duties were much different. When the king left the castle to join in on the war, you sat by the window hopelessly waiting for his return, and he did return, he came back with news of marriage.

And so here you are, on a carriage ride to the Kingdom of the West, foreign lands filled the view of the carriage window but that wasn’t what you focused on. Your thoughts circled back to when your father came back and broke the news of your sudden engagement.

“You are to not argue with the king!” your father said as he slammed his fists against his desk in frustration, “You will get married to the Crown Prince of the West Kingdom whether you like it or not. It is not your duty to argue, it is your duty to obey.”

Even though you knew you had no say in the marriage, you still sought freedom in choosing who to be wedded to. Mother has told you stories about how she had the chance to choose her husband among many suitors, and for years you believed you’d go through the same thing. Only for your hopes to be crushed in the midst of a war.

Upon arriving at the castle of the West Kingdom, you felt a bit unnerved. You were an enemy on foreign land, you had the disadvantage, one that you believed would make you suffer.

“Your Royal Highness, we’ve arrived,” said the servant driving the carriage. As you stepped out of the carriage, you saw a line of servants and maids lined up on the sides of the entrance, along with the royal family.

“Ah, you’re here,” said the king of the West Kingdom as he bowed at you, “Welcome, I hope the journey was not too tiring.”

You knew he only spoke out of respect but there was an underlying emotion that made you believe he didn’t mean it, “Your Majesty,” you said as you curtsied the king, right before you turned your attention to the young man next to him, his son.

His son stood tall, eyes boring into yours with judgment and even resentment. But he didn’t say anything, only bowing along with his father. His icy blue eyes held hatred, one that he had no shame in hiding. His blonde hair was neatly slicked back as his attire screamed rich and royal.

“This is my son, Crown Prince Leon,” the king said before he snapped his fingers and a maid came up to help you with your bags, “Come right in, my servants will show you to your chambers and then we’ll attend dinner.”

The king turned around to leave, wasting no second in going back inside the palace, all while his son glared at you before he followed right behind his father. For a welcome, it definitely went better than you had thought.

Your chambers were exquisite and quite extravagant, very different from home. Curtains hung from the ceiling over the bed, the very big bed. The windows were big enough to see just outside the gardens and training grounds. The room itself was like any other royal room, excessive decorations adorned the walls but it wasn’t something you weren’t used to.

“Your Royal Highness, we are your ladies-in-waiting, it is our honor to make your acquaintance,” a woman said as she bowed her head at you, followed by two other women behind her. You simply nodded and returned the bow, “Pleasured to make your acquaintance,” you replied softly.

“Let us help you prepare for dinner, the king does not like waiting,” she said right before the three of them started to work diligently on helping you into new clothes.

-

Dinner with the king and his son was a bit awkward. The table was silent, a contrast to how your family ate during dinner. Maybe it was because it was just Leon and the king, but even then it was too quiet.

“So, princess,” the king started as he sipped from his wine cup, “how are you liking the palace?”

“It’s beautiful, Your Majesty,” you replied.

The king chuckled, almost as if he knew his castle was beautiful, “Yes, yes, quite the vision for a foreigner,” he said.

“An enemy,” Leon suddenly spoke up for the first time today, “She’s not a foreigner, she’s the enemy,” his tone was bitter and cold. His hands gripping his silverware tight enough to turn his knuckles white. The king stiffened slightly before he downed his wine and set the cup back down, all while staring into the abyss.

“Son,” the king said in a quiet mutter but loud enough for you to hear, “the war is over. She’s going to be your wife, show some respect.”

But Leon didn’t like that. He slammed his silverware down against the table, servants turning their heads to look at Leon as he glared at you, “She’s anything but my wife. She’s a murderer and an enemy. I will not show my respect,” he said right before he stood up and stormed out of the dining hall. The king sighed after the doors slammed closed and you could only stare down at your plate.

“I apologize for my son–he,” the king said as he tried to come up with an excuse for his son’s behavior, only to not be able to say anything else for the remainder of dinner. It was clear that feelings of hatred still lingered from the war even though the war allegedly ended.

“Have a goodnight, princess,” he muttered before he stood up and also left the dining hall, leaving you alone with your half eaten plate.

This was your life from now on. A loveless marriage in a castle where you’re hated by everyone.

-

Months passed after your first day in the palace and not one had it been an easy one for you. Leon avoided you altogether and wouldn’t dare be in the same room as you, he wanted you to know his hatred for you and your kingdom. It became pointless trying to talk to him when you saw him in the halls as he’d turn around and walk in the direction he came from. Or if he was feeling bold, he’d walk right past you without acknowledging you. He loathed you.

Leon’s schedule was busy, as the heir of the throne and son of the current king, he had to manage some of the duties that came with that role. However, he wasn’t always busy, he only locked himself in his study and stuffed himself in tomorrow’s work to avoid you. His hatred ran deep and rooted in a dark place at the bottom of his heart. But he did have an outlet; sword training.

Many days and many nights he’d spend his time outside in the training grounds to let out all his pent up anger. And this only made you feel more alone.

When it was the day of the wedding, both families met together in a church. It was supposed to be a good day for you, weddings were supposed to be a blessing, but this one seemed like a curse. Both kings were delighted as this meant that they were now allies. It was a bit weird seeing your father and Leon’s father get along like childhood friends but there was nothing you could do. Both kingdoms were now united and the war has officially been declared to be over.

Leon, however, didn’t kiss you on the altar. He only gave you a nod, but hey, it was something different from the usual glares.

So now, here you were, in your shared chambers sitting on your vanity stool as you brushed your hair. It was nighttime and Leon had yet to come to bed. He’s always done this. Even though you were now husband and wife, he did everything he could to establish a barrier with you. He’d sleep on the couch near the fireplace as you slept alone on the bed, he’d purposefully wake up earlier as to not greet you in the morning, and he’d come back late at night to not see you awake.

He was a cruel and cold man who wanted nothing with you. You were just about to make your way to the bed when the door suddenly opened. Leon didn’t even spare a glance at you as he made his way to the couch, sitting down and ruffling his hair as he sighed heavily. You stared at him from the reflection of your vanity mirror, watching as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the backrest of the couch. He looked exhausted and if you were in any other circumstances, you’d ask what was wrong. But unfortunately, you knew it would be useless.

The man hated you and there was nothing you could do to change his mind.

“I heard you were making plans to change the garden,” he suddenly said, his eyes still closed as he spoke to you in his distant tone. You turned around on your stool to face him, “Yes, I wanted to replace a few flowers,” you replied softly.

Leon let out a dry scoff before he opened his eyes and looked at you, “And you didn’t consult me about it?” he asked coldly. He stood up to his full height and walked over to you, standing at a distance as he also loathed the idea of touching you.

“You think you can go behind my back and change the place however you want?” he asked lowly as he glared down at you, “I am the Crown Prince, I don’t care if the gardens lie under your duties, you consult me first. Do you understand?”

“Yes but–”

“Do not defy me,” he muttered as he took a step closer to you, “You think you can waltz in here and change everything without ever checking with me?” he then scoffed humorlessly and smirked in a mocking manner, “That’s what your people ever seem to do. You take and you take until you’re full, and forget about everyone else, don’t you?”

“Well, let me tell you something, princess,” he said your title out of spite, “You’re nothing but my wife here. You may be the future queen but you still have to obey me first. Whatever I say goes, and if I want the damn garden to stay that way then it will stay that way,” he muttered with an edge of threat in his tone.

He continued to glare at you, eyes boring into yours with so much resentment. And all you could was nod at him, “Yes, Your Highness,” you replied weakly in a whisper. Leon stared at you for a few seconds longer before he scoffed and walked back to the couch, not wanting to be bothered by you anymore.

-

The next day was busy for you, as future queen of the kingdom, there were a few things you needed to learn about the West Kingdom.

“Again,” the teacher said in a neutral tone as you sat in the library with books stacked on the table, “It’s not too hard to understand.”

You sighed frustratingly, you’ve been reading the same chapter for thirty minutes and you couldn't understand, “Easy for you to say, you’ve been living here your whole life. I’ve been here for three months and I still don’t understand how this kingdom works.”

“Princess, if I may be so bold,” he said as he looked at you, “you’re a smart lady, you understood everything thus far, what’s preventing you from understanding this minor detail?”

You knew what the teacher was insinuating, he thinks you’re distracted. And you know how he feels about distractions, with another sigh you spoke in a much quieter tone, “I just… I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.

“Do you now?” he asked quietly as he seemed to be observing and analyzing your behavior.

“Yes, I do,” you replied a bit more firmly, even though you didn’t mean to come off as defensive, you couldn’t help but feel that way. It was as if Leon had conditioned you to stay that way during your stay.

Everyone in the palace, the servants and the maids, were well aware of Leon’s mistreatment towards you. He wasn’t one to shy away from letting everyone of his hatred for you. Some pitied you but they wouldn’t dare go against Leon as he was the crown prince.

“It’s the crown prince, isn’t he?” The teacher said bluntly and almost unimpressed. You, however, felt a bit surprised. Were you that obvious?

“How do you know?” You muttered softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Who doesn’t know? All you two ever do is argue, well it’s mostly him, but you get my point.

Shame is what you felt upon his answer. Was that how everyone saw the relationship between you and Leon? You were supposed to be husband and wife, a beacon of peace between two kingdoms and yet, you were more apart than the Atlantic sea.

“I just—I don’t know,” you muttered, “it’s like everything I do angers him. I tried to be kind to him and show respect but all he does is shut me down and pretend I don’t even exist.”

“He hasn’t even said a single kind word to me,” you continued as the teacher remained silent, “I know he didn’t ask for this, but I also didn’t. I just wish he could understand *me*.”

There was a silence that overtook between you and the teacher, as if he was contemplating what to say, “The crown prince has been through a lot,” he said after a few moments of silence, “all he needs is time and he’ll come around, eventually.”

“Eventually,” you repeated under your breath. It may have only been three months but you’d hoped that he would at least be a bit kinder to you. Much to your dismay, you knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

After your studies, you roamed around the castle, trying to familiarize yourself with the structure. It was a bid castle, bigger than your own castle back home. Oh how you missed home.

You missed your bed, your friends, your family, the food they’d serve—you missed everything. Here, you were alone with a husband who hates you.

As you were about to make turn around the corner of the hall, someone’s hand suddenly covered your mouth as you felt them move you to pin you against the wall. It was a knight.

Your eyes widened but the knight held you firmly in place with one hand on your mouth and the other on your waist. Your heart was beating fast and your chest heaved up and down. Your maids walked on without you.

“Shh, princess,” the knight murmured in a sultry tone, “we don’t want to cause a scene, now do we?” You quickly shook your head ‘no’ terrified that he would do something to you.

The knight smirked and held you firmly in place against the wall, loving how scared of him you looked.

“Such a pretty thing…” His hand on your waist started to wander, his fingers brushing over your corset.

“I’ve wanted you for a while now….”

He moved closer to speak into your ear, his hand on your mouth moving to your hair to hold a fistful of it, while the other hand continued to wander.

“Let me go,” you whispered and closed your eyes tightly shut as you felt him hold your hair in a fist, ruining your hairstyle while his other hand roamed your corset.

Your hands gripped the wall, you were beyond terrified. How dare he lay his hands on a married woman—a married princess.

The knight didn’t listen to your pleas, continuing to keep you pinned against the wall, his hands now grabbing your hips.

“Shhh,” he murmured, his lips now against your neck, “I want you all to myself.”

The knight started to undo some of the laces at the back of your corset. Your eyes widened slightly as you your hands quickly traveled to hold your corset up against your breasts to ensure that it wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing—stop,” you ordered the knight.

The knight continued to undo the laces, the smirk on his face only growing as you tried to hold your corset up.

“Shh, don’t be like that, princess,” He murmured, his lips still against your neck as his hand moved to your wrists, “Let me do this…”

He started to loosen your corset, his hand then moving to squeeze your hip. He was too busy to notice Leon and the king, who were walking down the other side of the hall.

The laces of your corset were fully undone, the strings hanging down your back as you held the material up your chest, “My husband is the heir to the throne, he’ll have you decapitated if he sees you,” you threatened.

But you didn’t know if Leon would even do that for you. Leon hated you, he despised you to the point where he ignored your existence on a daily basis.

The knight simply smirked against your neck, his hands starting to wander and exploring your body.

“I doubt the crown prince would care,” he replied huskily, his hand cupping your breast through the fabric, “He doesn’t love you.”

As the king and Leon continued down the hall, Leon suddenly froze, a look of anger immediately appearing on his face. His anger grew as he saw you in the knight’s embrace. His father had no reaction, but Leon was pissed.

He walked down the hall quickly to you and the knight, staring at you with a hard glare. Leon’s jaw clenched as his eyes flicked to all the loose laces of your corset.

“What is the meaning of this?!” The king angrily exclaimed as he and Leon walked over to the knight.

You looked over at the King and Leon from behind the knight and felt even more worse. You felt embarrassed and ashamed of being seen like this. So you directed your attention to the floor as you tried not to cry.

The knight froze when he heard the king and Leon’s footsteps and voices, his hands freezing and the smirk on his face falling.

He quickly removed his hands from you, stepping away and quickly bowing in the king’s presence.

“Your majesty,” he said in a hurry, sweat forming on his forehead.

Leon stood behind his father, his eyes locked on you, taking in your appearance. His mind was a mixture of anger and disgust, seeing you with your laces undone and your corset askew.

When the knight took his hands off of you and took a step back, you fell down to the floor and held your corset up as to not expose yourself further.

You still avoided all their gazes, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t want any of this to happen to you.

“What were you thinking?!” The king started to reprimand the knight, “How dare you disrespect the lady of the house like that?!”

Leon’s eyes were locked on your face. He was angry. No. Enraged. Furious. Watching the knight touch you, the man’s hands on your body, groping you, made his blood boil.

He hated you. He hated you so much. But no one could touch you like that. You’re his wife. His property.

The king continued to yell at the knight, while Leon walked over to you and knelt down in front of you.

“Once we go back home, I’ll make sure you to punish you,” the king said the knight in a harsh tone, “Let’s go.”

He then looked down at you and Leon before he started to walk away with his knight trailing behind him. The moment it was just Leon and you in the hall, you could practically feel the anger rolling off of him. He clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw clenched and teeth gritted.

He couldn’t believe it. The sight of the knight’s hands on you, his lips on your neck, his hands cupping your breast… it made him see red.

He hated you. He despised you. But you were his. His wife. No one else was supposed to touch you like that.

Your maids were frantically looking for you and then they found you on the floor with Leon kneeling in front of you.

“My Lady,” one of them said as they ran over to both of you. They slowly helped you up, covering you body as they held you corset up, “Oh my,” another said under her breath.

My maids looked at Leon and bowed at him, “Excuse us, Your Highness,” one said before they started to drag you to your shared chambers. Leon stood up and watched as your maids hurried over to you, their eyes widening at your appearance.

For a moment, he considered whether or not to have the knight killed for what he did. He hated you. But you were his, and he wanted to make sure you knew that. He wouldn’t ever let another man touch you like that. But he also wouldn’t ever let anyone disrespect him like that.

The maids took you to your shared quarters where they helped you out of your dress and into your nightdress, getting you ready for sleep since it was already quite dark outside. Once you were dressed for the night, your maids left your quarters.

It was late at night. Leon went to his study to finish up some paperwork, before finally heading to yours and his shared quarters.

He was still enraged over what happened. The thought of the knight touching you, his hands on your body… it had Leon seeing red.

But why? Why did it anger him so much? It was because you were his wife and no one else was allowed to touch you. Not because he loved you, or even cared for you. Because you were his property.

When he was done with his paperwork, Leon entered the quarters, and immediately spotted you at the vanity desk. He still couldn’t get the sight of your appearance from what happened. Seeing you with your laces undone and your corset askew, the knight’s hands all over your body… it angered him for some unknown reason.

He slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the room as he stalked over to you. Your eyes widened and you visibly flinched when he suddenly slammed the door behind him.

“What happened,” he asked coldly, his voice low and harsh as he continued to approach you.

“What?” You muttered under your breath in mild shock.

But then you realized what he wanted, he wanted you to explain the whole thing. You swallowed dryly as you looked up at him, “I was walking with my maids until someone pulled me back and…” you muttered. Even talking about it made you uncomfortable.

Leon’s anger towards you made me uncomfortable, especially because you didn’t understand why he was so angry. His kingdom won the war yet he still saw you as his enemy, “But I tried to fight him off and I told him to stop. I even said you’d decapitate him but he didn’t listen.”

Leon’s anger only grew as he heard you recall what happened, that knight’s hands all over you while you tried to fight him off. The thought of it only made him even more enraged. How dare he touch you like that, and in the halls like that.

“Stupid woman,” he said scathingly, his deep voice full of disdain for you, “Of course he didn’t listen, he clearly didn’t care about what I’d do to him.”

You furrowed my brows and parted your lips as he called you that, Stupid woman.

It repeated in your mind several times, which caused your eyes to water. Did he think you enjoyed being harassed like that? You looked down at the floor, what else would you expect from Leon if it wasn’t going to be harsh words.

Leon’s eyes darkened at the sight of your watery eyes. He didn’t care if he offended or hurt you, as he saw you as nothing more than an obstacle.

“Clearly he thought you were some whore,” he continued, his words harsh and cold, “What else would he think? It’s not the first time something like this has happened, after all.”

He looked at you, a scornful look in his eyes. He hated you, but the thought of another man’s hands on you, it ignited a fire within him.

You looked back up at him in shock, did he just call you a whore? You were a princess, born and raised to be graceful and elegant and he reduces you to a whore? You felt disrespected.

“It is the first time a man has laid their hands on me,” you quickly argued back as you stood up, a tear rolling down your cheek, you’ve had enough of him, “You won’t even touch me. We haven’t even tried for an heir like your father wanted!”

Leon clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as you spoke. You had a point, a very valid point. But he wouldn’t admit that.

“Don’t expect me to actually want to touch you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust, “You’re just the price I had to pay to stop the war. I’ll have heirs, but they won’t be yours. I’ll never allow my children to share your blood.”

He took a step closer to you, his eyes cold and hard. A scoff escaped your lips, “You’re calling me a whore when you just admitted you’d have heirs with other women?” You said in disbelief.

“You are a selfish bastard, your heart is brittle and rotten,” you whispered harshly to him as another tear rolled down.

Leon’s eyes darkened at your words. Selfish bastard. He knew that’s what you thought of him, but hearing you actually admit it angered him. But not as much as the thought of having heirs with you.

“You’re the one who’s delusional,” he spat, “You’re not worthy enough to have my heirs or the title of queen. That’s the only reason I’ll be lying with other women.”

He took another step closer, his jaw clenching. He loathed you. Hated you.

Him admitting that hurt you beyond belief. It was like something in you and you gave up. Hearing him not just say that he’ll lay with other women but that you were useless as well hurt.

You looked at him with pain in your eyes, your jaw clenched as you tried to hold back your tears, “Fine,” you whispered in a resigned tone.

“Go ahead. Sleep around with other women,” you muttered, “Just don’t complain when your name gets brought up in a brothel for being their number one customer.”

You gave up. He hated you beyond repair and nothing you could do could change that. So you simply just decided to stop. The mere thought of him being with other women hurt more than you thought it would. All my life you’ve been taught and raised to be the fitting queen by his side. What purpose did you have now?

Leon was caught off guard by your resigned tone and the look in your eyes. He wasn’t expecting you to give up like this. He expected more of a fight from you.

“I will,” he said firmly, his eyes still cold and hard, “In fact, I’ll start tonight.”

His words stung. He wanted heirs, but not from his “arranged” wife, you. He could only imagine the children you could raise together, but he could never allow himself to even think about it.

Your heart broke even more. Tonight? Your mouth gaped open but you quickly closed it and remained silent as your eyes watered. You couldn’t do anything.

“Alright,” you whispered, “Go on. I won’t stop you,” you turned around and went over to your bed.

You sat down on the edge, taking off your shoes. Then you blew out your candle and laid down on the bed, bringing the covers up to your chin and closed your eyes. You did not want to cry but why does it feel like you are?

Leon could simply only watch you. He expected you to get angry and lash out at him, but instead, you simply accepted it.

The sight of you on the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin with tears in your eyes, stirred something in him. But he forced it down. He hated you. He’d always hate you.

“I won’t be coming back here tonight,” he said coldly, his voice harsh and emotionless, as he turned and headed for the door.

Leon could hear your soft whimpers as he headed towards the door, but he ignored them. He didn’t care if you were crying or not. He didn’t care how hurt you were because of him. All he cared about was himself.

Even though he felt something stir in him when he saw you on the bed, crying and upset, he forced it down. He continued to ignore it as he opened the door and left. He wouldn’t come back tonight. He was going to find a woman he actually liked. One that wasn’t you.

Leon walked away from the quarters. He headed out of the palace and out into the town.

Tonight, he was going to visit the taverns to find a woman to spend the night with. The thought of you was still in the back of his mind, but he pushed it down, determined to have a distraction from the thoughts of you crying in bed alone.

He could have a woman or two in a tavern, and that would distract him. Perhaps when he returned, you’d be asleep and he wouldn’t have to think about you at all.

The nearest tavern was full of women lingering around in skimpy gowns, obviously known as the hookers that attracted attention to the business.

But amidst all the women, could he really just forget about you? The hurt in you eyes, your bottom lip slightly trembling whenever you’d cry, or the way your eyes would look like a wounded puppy? Could he really find a distraction from that gnawing feeling at his chest with a woman who’d forget him next thing in the morning?

He was the crown prince, everyone wanted a piece of him, but no one dared. The women looked at him, but didn’t approach him. In their eyes, he too high up in the ranks. Leon could feel the eyes of the women in the tavern on him as he entered.

But he couldn’t have you, even though you were his wife. That was the problem. He could be with any woman, but he would never allow himself to allow you to get close to him because he hated you.

But as he continued to look around, Leon began to falter. He began to grow frustrated. Because every woman he looked at, he found himself comparing to you.

The women were no match for you, and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew it was true. You were beautiful and gracious, and the women in the tavern could never compare.

He grew frustrated by this realization. He was the crown prince. He could have any woman he wanted, yet no one here seemed worthy of him. He let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes still scanning the crowd of drunken soldiers and whores. None of them compared to you, and he hated knowing that.

Leon had spent hours in the tavern, but he found no one who could compare to you. It was infuriating. No matter who he looked at, you were the one he kept thinking about.

As the night continued to drag on, Leon began to think it was time to return to the castle. It was getting late, and the longer he was away, the more he would think about you. With a grumble, he left the tavern and headed back towards the castle.

Leon entered the castle, still feeling frustrated and annoyed. He had wasted hours at the tavern, only to come back to the castle empty-handed.

The halls were quiet as he made his way down, heading to the quarters he shared with you. He knew you were asleep this late, and the thought of you being fast asleep in bed annoyed him, but not as much as the thought of seeing you crying.

When he pushed open the door to your shared quarters, his eyes landed on you. You were asleep, your hair fanned out over the pillow, looking beautiful even in your sleep. He mentally cursed himself for thinking you were attractive.

Leon shut the door behind him, watching you sleep for a few moments. He couldn't deny how beautiful you looked, even in your sleep. Your hair was spread out on the pillow, and the way the moonlight hit your face, it was beautiful.

But Leon quickly squashed that thought. He hated you, he despised you. He could never find anything about you beautiful or attractive, no matter what.

He walked over to the bed, looking down at you as you slept soundly, unbothered by his arrival. Leon couldn't help but watch you as you shifted in your sleep, rolling onto your back. You looked beautiful, even with tear stains on your cheeks, presumably from crying after he left for the tavern.

He should've been thinking about the women he met at the tavern. He should've been comparing them to you, wanting to hurt you by going on about how much more beautiful they were. But Leon found himself unable to do that. He couldn't compare you to the tavern whores. In his eyes, none of them came close to your beauty.

He hated you, but not even he could deny that you were the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Leon let out a quiet sigh, looking to the couch by the fireplace. He would be on the couch, and nothing more. He would never sleep in the bed with you.

When morning rolled up, your maids came into the room to help get ready for the day. All while you didn’t spare Leon a glance. His words deeply hurt you and you had given up on him.

He was free to do what he wanted, not like you had a say in the first place, his servants came into the room to help get dressed for the day as well.

“Your Highness,” one of your maids said as she started to do your hair as you sat on your vanity stool, “The gardener is here to help you renovate the garden.”

“Ah,” you replied to her, “I forgot to cancel the renovation plans. I’ll meet him downstairs,” The maid nodded and continued with your hair. When she was done helping you, you made your way out of the room and towards the lobby of the castle.

Once you reached downstairs with your maids behind you, you spoke French to the gardener since he was French, “Bonjour, je suis désolé mais j’ai peur de devoir annuler les plans pour le jardin.”

Leon’s servants, once he was dressed, started to follow him downstairs as he also had business to do. Or maybe training. Who knew what his schedule was.

The French gardener looked at you in surprise as you spoke to him in perfect French. He didn't expect you to speak the language, but it was a pleasant surprise nevertheless. Your maids were also quite surprised to hear you were fluent in another language, you must’ve learned foreign languages back home.

"Ah, Bonjour," he replied with a smile, "Ce n’est pas grave, Votre Altesse, je pourrais toujours vous donner mes conseils pour l’avenir si vous le souhaitez.”

Leon's servants followed him as he made his way downstairs, his ears perked and listening to the conversation between you and the gardener. He wasn’t aware you could speak another language so fluently.

You nodded, figuring that some advice wouldn’t hurt anyone. You started to walk towards the gardens with your maids behind you as the gardener walked next to you.

Once you reached outside, you spoke to the gardener, in French, about how you wanted to change some of the flowers and replace them with better ones.

“My Lord,” one of his servants said to Leon, “the grounds are ready for you to practice sword fighting, Your instructor is waiting.”

He grunted in response to his servant, "Very well. I shall head there now," He was about to turn and walk away when he suddenly changed his mind.

"Actually," he said to the servant, "I shall go outside first," The servant's brow furrowed in confusion, but Leon ignored him. He began walking outside instead, heading towards the garden area, seemingly wanting to follow you.

As Leon walked towards the garden area, his servants followed behind him. Some were confused and others surprised at the sudden change of plans.

“Je veux me débarrasser des tournesols, ils bloquent les roses de l'autre côté du buisson,” you said to the gardener, unaware of Leon approaching the garden area, “Pouvez-vous remplacer les tournesols par des pivoines?”

The French gardener nodded at your suggestion, "Bien sûr. Nous pouvons certainement remplacer les tournesols par des pivoines. Elles seront de bien meilleures plantes en cette période de l'année."

The gardener began to think, "Peut-être devrions-nous aussi semer des jacinthes pour ajouter un peu de variété."

As the gardener spoke, Leon continued to walk towards the garden area. His eyes narrowed as he heard the sound of you and the gardener speaking in French. He was feeling suspicious.

“My Lord,” one of Leon’s servants followed behind him, “Shall we introduce you to the gardener? He came all this way from France.”

Leon grunted in response to his servant, his gaze still focused on you and the gardener. The way you smiled at the gardener made his blood boil.

As you both continued to speak in French, his servants looked at each other, some looking confused while others looked amused. They knew of his hatred for you, and they could tell that he was irritated by you speaking to the gardener.

Finally, Leon came to a stop a few feet behind you, his arms crossed over his chest. He remained silent, listening to the conversation between you and the gardener.

You hadn’t noticed Leon behind you but your maids, however, did notice and they glanced at the servants with a nervous expression, one that said ‘what is he doing here?’. It seemed that Leon’s irritation and anger was evident.

“Your Highness,” your maids said as they curtsied. The greeting making you a bit stiff as you turned and noticed Leon. You looked up at him, confused and a bit surprised. But the pain in your heart was still present. You followed after your maids, also curtsying Leon.

Leon's expression darkened as you both turned around to face him. His eyes were hard as they met yours, the irritation and anger written all over his face.

His servants stood quietly behind him, their eyes flickering between Leon and you, unsure of what to do. They could feel the tension in the air, and they could sense their master's anger.

"What are you doing?" Leon asked, his voice low and cold. He glanced at the gardener before looking back at you, his gaze unwavering.

You knew Leon was angry, everyone could tell, even the French gardener. It was as if anger just radiated off of him, “I was just seeking advice,” you said as you looked up at Leon.

“This is Augustus,” you said to Leon, “He’s a good friend of my brother who’s well-versed in gardening. I called for him to help,” you explained in a gentle voice. You would’ve sent him back to France but Leon didn’t really give you time to cancel plans so suddenly.

Leon's eyes narrowed as you explained why you called the gardener. His jaw clenched tightly, and his servants could see his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Why did you not consult me before calling for this gardener?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation. His eyes flicked to the gardener, Augustus, before returning to you, “I thought I told you to consult me before you went off and made choices of your own.”

"What other plans do you have for the garden?" he continued, his gaze never leaving yours.

You glanced at my maids, seeing their nervous expression before you looked back at Leon. You could already feel the argument coming tonight.

“I wanted to get rid of the sunflowers as well as the weeds and replace them with peonies and hyacinths,” you replied.

“Some of your gardeners have been having trouble taming the weeds so I thought I could help find the root of the problem,” you mumbled softly.

As you spoke, Leon's jaw clenched even tighter. He couldn't believe you hadn't asked for his permission before making plans to change the garden.

"And you thought it was appropriate to invite a friend of your brother's to help without consulting me?" he snapped, his tone cold and biting. His eyes narrowed again as you continued, "What makes you think the problem can be solved so easily? You think you know better than my gardeners?"

Your eyes widened slightly as he snapped at you. You furrowed your brow and opened your mouth to defend yourself but ultimately decided against it. No matter what you say, he’ll just get more mad.

So, in resignation, you sighed and shook your head before you lowered your head, “No, Your Highness,” you said.

Leon's eyes narrowed further as you lowered your head, your submission fueling his anger. He loathed the fact that you so easily backed down, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at your compliance.

"Exactly," he sneered, "You know nothing about gardening. Leave it to the professionals. And next time you plan something, consult me first."

Leon glanced at the gardener, who had been listening in awkwardly. He felt a pang of annoyance at the man's presence.

“My lord,” one of Leon’s servants stood next to him, “we should go back. The instructor is waiting,” he kindly reminded Leon of his sword practice. Leon's eyes flicked over to his servant, a flicker of annoyance passing through them. He wasn't finished speaking to you, but the reminder about his practice session couldn't be ignored.

He gave his servant a terse nod before turning back to you, his expression hardening once more, "This conversation isn't over," he said, his voice low and cold. He shot one final glare at the gardener before turning and walking away, his servants following behind him. He knew the argument was going to continue later.

You knew the conversation was far from over, hell, you even thought he’d make you pay for it. And that was something you dreaded. Once he was gone, you turned to look at your maids.

“Escort the young boy to his carriage,” you said before you looked at the gardener, “Je m'excuse pour ce que vous avez vu, ce fut un plaisir de vous avoir ici.”

The gardener nodded at you, a sympathetic expression on his face. He had seen plenty of couple's disagreements before, but this one seemed particularly intense.

"Ce n'tait pas de votre faute," he said, his voice soft, "Je suis tout de même heureux de vous avoir rencontrée."

You felt bad that about the whole thing. You glanced at your maids and nodded at them, signaling them to take the young gardener away while you remained on the garden.

As Leon practiced on the training ground, his mind was still on the incident in the garden. Your insistence on changing the garden, your lack of asking him for permission, and the way you had spoken to the gardener all boiled his blood.

He couldn't believe that you had invited the gardener without telling him first. Who did you think you were? And the way you had looked so timid, lowering your head in submission like that. It made his blood boil even more.

He swung his sword harder, channeling his anger into his training.

Later. Later, he would deal with you.

For the rest of the day, you spent your time in the library reading and learning about Leon’s kingdom. There was so little that you could do now that Leon was angry at you yet again.

As you sat on a table near a window, you could see Leon practicing on the tracking grounds with other soldiers. The sun was beaming down on them, the sounds of their swords clanking being heard even from the second floor where you were.

You sighed, why did he have to be so rude to you? His kingdom won the war. Shouldn’t that make him happy? But you didn’t want to think about it. You redirected your gaze down towards your book and continued reading.

Some of the soldiers were sitting down, taking a break from their training as they watched Leon train with another soldier.

“Don’t he look more…tense?” One soldier said to the other. The other narrowed his eyes and tried to study Leon before he shook his head, “Huh…I don’t see it.”

“My lord—“ said the soldier Leon was training with, “We must take a break, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Leon ignored the soldier's pleas, his eyes focused on the sword in his hand.

"I don't need a break," he snapped, his voice harsh. No matter how hard he trained, he couldn't shake his annoyance with you. He lunged forward with his sword, aiming a blow at the soldier, who quickly blocked it. The clash of steel on steel echoed through the training grounds.

“Wait,” said the other soldier, “No, yeah, he’s tense,” the two soldiers sitting down nodded as they observed Leon going all out on his training.

The soldier started to block Leon’s blows but did not aim any at Leon. It was dangerous training with someone with so much anger. And that was until the soldier’s sword flew out of his hands and fell on the floor, a victory for Leon.

The two soldiers on the bench clapped and cheered for Leon, “Good work, my lord,” one said. The soldiers of his castle were good friends with Leon. Sometimes they’d go out for drinks after winning a battle.

Leon panted heavily as he stood over the soldier whose sword had been knocked out of his hand. His eyes were still hard and anger burned in them. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his arm before glancing at the two soldiers who had been watching. He grunted in acknowledgment of their praise but didn’t smile. He dropped his own sword on the ground with a clatter and started walking towards the side of the training grounds. He needed a break.

One of the soldiers tossed Leon a water pouch as the other spoke to the soldier on the floor, “For a rookie, you did pretty good. Not amazing. But good,” he said with a smug smirk.

“Oh shut it, Andrews,” the rookie soldier said as Andrews simply laughed, his laugh echoing out on the training grounds. Andrews was a much older and experienced soldier, the guy next to him, Kyle, was also experienced. But they were both loyal.

Leon stopped for a moment, lifting the water pouch to his lips and taking a long drink. The water cooled his body, but it didn’t do anything to cool his anger.

His eyes flickered up to the castle, seeing your figure sitting at the window. He gritted his teeth, his gaze turning cold. You were the reason he was so angry in the first place.

He handed the water pouch back to the soldiers before turning and walking towards the castle, striding with purpose.

It was time to confront you.

Leon walked angrily through the halls of the castle, his boots thudding loudly against the marble floor. The servants who walked past him quickly scurried out of his way, intimidated by his intense glare. He didn't bother making eye contact with them as he walked.

He made his way towards the library, his mind set on confronting you. You couldn’t just go around making decisions on your own. He was the king, and he would show you your place. Without knocking, he pushed open the door to the library.

You looked up at the sound of the doors being slammed opened and saw Leon. You quickly put your pencil down and stood up, “My lord,” you said in a surprised tone as your eyes widened slightly.

You started fixing your dress as it reached the floor. The dress was a simple yellow dress that was tight from your waist and chest. It wasn’t a corset but the dress did hug your breasts nicely. The sleeves reached your elbows and the fabric was made of silk. Then you walked to stand in front of him with the table behind you. Your hands clasped together in front of you as you looked up at him.

Even in heels, he stood taller than you. But now wasn’t the time to think about that. He hated you and his words from last night still lingered in your mind. Of how he’d rather sleep with other women and have heirs with them than with you.

Leon stalked towards you, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of anger and annoyance. He looked at your dress, taking in your form, his gaze lingering a beat too long on your chest before he met your eyes again. He could feel himself getting more annoyed just from looking at you. He wanted to yell at you, to reprimand you, to make you understand your place as his wife.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice tense and low.

You nodded slowly, “Alright,” you muttered, “what do you want to talk about?”

Leon clenched his fists at his sides, trying to control his anger, "You had no right to invite that gardener to the castle without my permission. Who do you think you are, making decisions like that without consulting me?"

“I didn’t mean to offend you like that,” you tried to defend yourself, your tone quiet and timid, “I thought I could make my own choices since the gardens fall under my duties as lady of the house.”

He took a step closer, his voice low and menacing, "You need to learn your place, princess. You're my wife, nothing more. You don't make decisions here, I do."

You looked up at him as he stepped closer. His reminder once again being cruel. You were nothing else than just a pawn to him. Something to help get closer to the crown so he’d be king.

He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning over your form again, before he continued, "And another thing...”

“What other thing, my lord,” you muttered and furrowed your brows confused. But, something in you took control and you were getting angry as well, “Did you find a whore last night?” You suddenly asked.

Leon stiffened, his eyes narrowing at your words. He hadn't expected you to bring up the topic of his nighttime activities.

"Yes, I did," he lied, his voice hard, "Why do you ask?"

There was a bitter undertone to his words. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he hadn't been able to go through with his plans to find a woman at the tavern. Every woman he saw paled in comparison to you, and the thought of bedding someone else left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Because whatever you do also affects me,” you muttered and looked up at him with a firm expression.

“Your actions have consequences and I do not want you to squander my reputation. I am a noble lady, not the wife of a man who won’t stop sharing himself to the whores of the night,” you said through gritted teeth. You hated his words. You hated *him.*

Leon's expression darkened at your words, his jaw clenching at being reprimanded by you.

"You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do," he snapped, "I'll do as I please, and who I please. And it is none of your concern."

He took another step closer, his height towering over you, "You're my wife, that's all. You don't have the right to make decisions, and you certainly don't have the right to shame me for pursuing other...pleasures."

“Don’t you realize what might happen if your father knows that you’ve been having sex with random women and that you bring home an illegitimate son into your family?” You said as you looked up at him with furrowed brows, how could he be so selfish?

“I will not shame you and I am not telling you what to do. Just do things with the consequences in mind,” you muttered as your gaze slowly fell down.

Leon rolled his eyes at your words, his irritation only growing.

"I'm not stupid," he snapped, "I know what the consequences could be to my actions, but I also know that I am a grown man who can make his own decisions. And what would you know about consequences? You've never had to make a hard decision in your life."

He took another step closer, his chest almost touching yours as he leaned in, his voice low, "I'd watch your tone if I were you. Remember your place."

You watched as he took a step closer, his chest so close to yours but you didn’t focus on that. You held my ground, looking up at him.

“Why?” You muttered, “What are you going to do if I don’t watch my tone? I’m only trying to look out after you. After us.”

He may hate you, and he may have a reason why. But you didn’t want his actions to drag you down as well.

"I appreciate your concern," he said, his voice sarcastic, "But I don't need you to look out for me. I can handle myself."

He took a step closer, so close that you could feel his breath on your skin, "And if you don't start watching your tone, you might find yourself with a sore arse."

You furrowed your brow and stared in disbelief and fear. Was he seriously going to put his hands on you?

“A sore arse? Do you hear yourself?” You mumbled. He was getting too close. For a moment you were confused because he’d never touch you and yet here he was. Telling you he was going to spank you.

“You dare lay your hands on me?” You muttered, “What would the people think if they found out that you…that you…”

You inhaled and looked at him, “Your people will be displeased if they hear that you lay your hands on your wife,” you muttered.

Leon's expression darkened as you challenged him, his jaw clenching. He didn't like being threatened by you, not one bit.

"And who do you think the people would believe?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, "Me, the future king, or you, the useless princess who serves no purpose other than to warm my bed at night."

You narrowed your eyes at him, to hear that words come from his mouth was hurting. Especially since he’s been treating you as if you were nothing.

“I won’t bother you,” you whispered, it seemed that no matter what you say he’d still find something to be angry at you about. It was pointless talking to him.

Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw the pain in your eyes, but he quickly steeled himself, refusing to show any signs of compassion.

"Good," he said coldly, "Because you're already a nuisance as it is."

He took a step back, putting some distance between you and him, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Just stay out of my way," he said, his voice still cold, "And try not to make my life even more difficult than it already is."

You nodded and curtsied before you took my books from the table and left the library. You didn’t want him to see you cry, not after last night and not after this morning. It seemed as if he only ever made you cry.

You walked the halls of the castle with your books in your arms, your heels echoing in the air as you maneuvered to your shared quarters. Tears blurred your vision.

Once you entered our room, you closed the door behind you and put your books on your vanity desk before you plopped down on your bed. The bed that only you slept in. You stuffed your face in one of the pillows and just let it all out.

Curse this kingdom. Curse the war. Curse your father for giving you to Leon, a heartless man. You hated everything.

Leon watched you as you walked away, a pang of guilt in his chest at the sight of your tears as the library door closed behind you. He knew that he was being harsh with you, but he had to be. He couldn't let himself get close to you, no matter how much the part of him that wanted to comfort you grew.

He clenched his jaw and pushed down the guilt, reminding himself of the pain that you represented. The pain of the war, the pain of their families' deaths.

He turned and walked away, heading back towards the training fields.

As he entered the training grounds, Andrews noticed Leon’s conflicted expression, “Now that’s a face I haven’t seen since the war,” he pointed out as he blocked one of Leon’s attacks with his sword.

Leon grunted as Andrews blocked his attack, his expression hardening once again as he lunged forward with a flurry of attacks.

"Shut up," he said through gritted teeth, "I'm just a bit distracted, that's all."

He slashed at Andrews with his sword, the blade narrowly missing the other man's shoulder. Leon's moves were a bit more sloppy than usual, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you. Andrews, being one of Leon’s most loyal friends, knew something else was wrong with Leon. But he wasn’t going to spell it out for him.

“If you say so,” he muttered before he blocked another one of Leon’s attacks, followed by a strike against Leon’s side. Andrews was very good at fighting, being older and the captain of the castle’s defense allowed him to be the best.

Leon hissed as Andrews' sword hit his side, the impact knocking the air out of him. He stumbled back, his hand going to his side as he regained his breath, annoyance replacing the guilt he had been feeling.

"You bastard," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Andrews. He lunged forward once again, this time going on the offensive as he swung his sword towards Andrews' chest.

Andrews raised a brow and moved to the side before he swiped his leg under Leon’s feet, watching as he fell down on the floor.

Then, Andrews knelt down and offered him a hand to stand up, “You fight with too much emotion. What’s going on?” He spoke firmly. He pulled Leon up on his feet, walking back towards the side bench and tossed Leon a water pouch.

Leon grumbled as he caught the water pouch and taking a deep draught from it. He sat down on the bench next to Andrews, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at the ground.

"It's... complicated," he said finally, his voice low.

He paused, not wanting to admit what he was feeling, but he knew Andrews wouldn't give up that easily. He was a stubborn bastard.

After taking a swig from his own water pouch, Andrews rested his forearms on his knees, leaning forward as he glanced at Leon.

“Complicated?” he muttered as he straightened up and took another swig. He then put his pouch down on the bench and looked back at Leon.

“It’s only complicated if you give it too much thought,” Andrews said.

Leon let out a scoff, rolling his eyes.

"Easy for you to say," he muttered, "You're not the one who married someone you're supposed to hate."

He clenched his jaw, his hands gripping his knees tightly. The memory of your tear-streaked face came back to him, and he felt that damn pang of guilt again.

"You don't know what it's like," he said, his voice low and bitter.

Andrews hummed and nodded slowly, “Supposed to,” he repeated in a mutter before he turned his head to look at the other soldiers sparring.

“I don’t know what it’s like to be married to someone I hate,” Andrews spoke after a few seconds of silence, “but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t understand what it’s like to see it.”

“The lady…” he spoke slowly, “I’ve only ever met her once back when she first moved in,” Andrews chuckled at the memory, “Poor lady was lost roaming around the castle she ended up here and nearly got her head caught off.”

Leon couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the memory as well. He himself hadn’t been there when you had wandered into the training grounds, but he had heard all about it from the knights.

“Yeah, she’s not exactly the most observant,” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of affection, though he quickly bit down on his tongue to stop himself. He looked up at Andrews, his expression turning slightly bitter again.

"What are you getting at?" he asked, his voice guarded.

Andrews sighed and looked at Leon, “What I’m trying to say is,” he muttered softly, “the princess came from far away, ripped from her home and she obviously doesn’t know things about this place.”

“You can’t expect her to know everything. She’s…alone,” he muttered and looked back at the knights sparring, “Put yourself in her shoes. You’re being wedded to someone from the enemy kingdom and you’re being sent to foreign terrain where you know absolutely nothing about. And turns out your partner hates you and you don’t even know why, see what I’m trying to say?”

“She didn’t start the war but she helped you finish it. That’s a sacrifice not many are willing to make,” Andrews said before he took a swig of his water pouch.

Leon's jaw clenched as he listened to Andrews.

He knew what he was saying was true, but it was easier said than done. His resentment towards you ran deep, and even though he knew you weren't responsible for the war, he couldn't help but feel resentment towards you by association.

"I know," he mumbled, his voice low, "But it's not that simple. It's not just about the war. It's about everything."

He paused, his grip on his knees tightening, "It's about our families. The people we lost. It's all...complicated."

“And no one says it’ll ever be easy,” Andrews continued, “but you haven’t given her a chance to adapt. She doesn’t have anyone. She’s alone in a place where she’s hated, it’s a surprise she’s made it this long without begging her father to go back home.”

Andrews sighed and looked at Leon, “No one is telling you to forgive and forget. The war was scarring and many lives were lost. But to blame it all on the lady who doesn’t know a thing about swords seems very wrong to me.”

He then put his hand on Leon’s shoulder in a friendly manner, “At the end of the day, she isn’t your enemy. She never will be and she can’t. She’s here.”

Leon let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He knew, deep down, that Andrews was right. You hadn't started the war, and you had no control over the actions of the king. But the feelings of anger and resentment towards you were still there, rooted deep within him. He couldn't just turn them off, no matter how much he wanted to.

He looked over at Andrews, his expression conflicted, "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice low.

Andrews hummed, it wasn’t easy to just get rid of your anger overnight. It wasn’t possible but it also didn’t mean that you’d never get rid of it.

“Do what’s right. Start by seeing her for who she is and not just a person from her kingdom. She’s her own person just like how you are more than just the crown prince,” Andrews said, he was always a good friend. Wise and always knew what to say to Leon.

“It won’t be easy,” Andrews said before he stood up and stretched, “it takes time but it’ll be worth it.”

Leon clenched his jaw, his eyes staring down at the ground as Andrews spoke. He knew his friend was right, but it was easier said than done.

"I'll try," he mumbled finally, his voice strained.

He stood up, his shoulders feeling heavy with the weight of his thoughts. He knew he needed to push down those negative feelings and start seeing you for who you were.

As Andrews stretched, Leon looked at him, "Thanks, Andrews," he muttered, "For always being a pain in my ass."

Andrews chuckled and gently bumped Leon’s shoulder, “The price to pay when you’re friends with me, eh?”

For the rest of the evening, training went well. The sun had started to set, and you were walking around the halls of the castle by yourself, admiring the paintings on the walls.

It wouldn’t be easy, like Andrews said, but it was better to start seeing you in your own light instead of just generalizing you. You didn’t know a thing about swords and fighting, much less about war.

[thetypingpup]

Long haired dragon Hwa balls deep in you and his hair keeps falling into his face and finally he gets fed up and, while still inside you, he leans over to the nightstand and grabs something to tie his hair back. While he's tying his hair you keep clenching around him and it's taking everything in him not to absolutely destroy you

i see this and i raise you: imagine he reaches to grab a hair tie, and his pace doesn't falter for a moment.

imagine his hips pistoning at the same intense tempo, jostling your body with every thrust, pleasure bursting from your centre over and over again. he tires of the hair falling into his face, obstructing his view of you laid out in ecstasy before him. the tickling of hair strands over his eyes is almost enough to make him lose focus, his wings twitching in frustration, so he leans over to the nightstand, reaching for something to pull it back. his hips continue to thrust, the tempo slowed only slightly, but still quick enough to take your breath away. the sight of him gathering his long dark hair, his arms flexing with the effort, is such an enticing sight that you clench around him. he growls, low in his throat, and rocks his hips into your tightening heat. loving the effect it had, you clench around him again, more deliberately this time, just to make him growl like that again. the sudden rushes of pleasure certainly effect him, but they don't throw him off his rhythm. instead, he changes the pace and starts gyrating his hips, keep himself flush against you and grinding his cock deep inside you. the head of his cock practically massages that tender point of pleasure within you and makes you tremble, and your innermost depths mold to the shape of his cock and the bulbous knot of engorged flesh at the base. breathless doesn't even begin to cover what you feel. your head spins, your body completely overwhelmed with ecstasy, and your head lolls to the side, face sinking into the pillow. you can barely keep your eyes open long enough to watch him above you, still fucking you even as his hands are occupied.

"aww, you thought that would trip me up? how cute. just wait til i get my hands free." the flash of his fangs, the sheen of moonlight over his dark horns, and the gleam of his cobalt eyes gives a dangerous edge to his vague vow, and you shudder in excited anticipation.

once his hair is pulled back, nothing obscures the intense expression of erotic determination on his face, determined to keep riding this high and bring you both to your peaks. he pins your wrists down and absolutely rails you, making you choke on your words and sob incoherently. your cries are dampened by the stone walls of your castle tower and propelled into the air through the open window. anyone below can hear you wailing in bliss, can hear his growls becoming loud, blatant snarls as he fucks you relentlessly. his knot pushes deeper and deeper, prodding at your entrance before stretching you out completely, and you scream as he fully inserts himself inside you. circling his hips, he keeps going, grinding into you as if carving out a space for himself within you, the perfect place to plant his seed. you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him in deeper, practically daring him to cum in you and claim you already.

and with a guttural, animalistic roar, he does just that, filling you to the brim with liquid lust.