#claiming him as my near sighted king

[nameuserlee]

yes, even onychinus’ leader can rock glasses, if the situation calls for it. 🖤

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.

wc. 1.5k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines

“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.

you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.

everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.

“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.

you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.

you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”

you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.

you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.

the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.

sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”

your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.

“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.

the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.

you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.

there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.

“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.

unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.

you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.

“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.

however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.

you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.

sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.

“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.

the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.

you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.

“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.

sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.

the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.

the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.

which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.

sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”

CR. STTORU 2024

[saltywritings]

Unsworn Protector ( Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen Niece! Reader )

Summary: The reader is sent to Old Town with Daeron, however, is left in an uncomfortable situation when her uncle finds her with a pillow.

Warnings: explicit smut under the cut minors do not interact, incest, age gap, reader has a pillow princess moment, oral (female receiving), penetration, Gwayne is giving sub vibes.

Word count: 3,728

The journey to Old Town was arduous and slow, a monotonous trek that seemed designed to drain one's spirit. Few things could be more disheartening than being sent to Old Town, a place that felt like exile. Your mother, the queen, insisted that sending you and your younger brother Daeron there was for the best, claiming it would build character—whatever that meant. Yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that she simply preferred not to deal with you. Sending you and Daeron away made it easier for her to focus on Aegon. Despite her intentions, you were frustrated by being uprooted from your home, all in the name of this so-called character building.

When the carriage finally arrived in Old Town, your eyes took in the sights as you traveled swiftly through the city. Having spent your entire life in King's Landing, Old Town seemed exceptionally small. You noticed the tall walls surrounding the castle, some sections near the gate clad in ivy.

"Finally, we're here," Daeron exclaimed as he rushed to the carriage door, eager to free himself from its confines.

With a mix of frustration and disgust, you pushed at your brother’s back as he deliberately blocked the carriage door, trapping you inside. "Daeron!" you shouted, your hands shoving at the coarse fabric of his shirt. "Let me out, you fool!" You struggled against him as he laughed, his mirth only heightening your irritation.

Suddenly, another voice cut through the commotion. "Come now, my prince. Let your sister out," it urged. Reluctantly, Daeron relented and stepped down the few stairs, finally freeing you from the confined space of the carriage.

As you finally freed yourself from the carriage, you realized the voice belonged to your uncle, Gwayne Hightower. Though many years had passed since you last saw him, you recognized him instantly. Stepping forward, your feet now firmly planted on the ground, you shot a sharp glare at Daeron, resisting the urge to shove him, before turning back to your uncle.

"Thank you, Uncle," you said with a small nod.

Daeron, looking bewildered, finally noticed Gwayne. "Oh—Uncle Gwayne. I didn’t recognize you," he replied, prompting you to narrow your eyes.

"I’m not surprised," you said. "You were but a babe the last time he visited."

"Indeed you were," Gwayne said with a warm smile. "I'm surprised you recognize me, Princess. You've grown as much as your brother."

He stepped forward, extending his hand toward you. You raised yours to meet his, and he took it gently, bringing it to his lips with a delicate kiss that conveyed a soft, caring warmth. Your eyes fluttered slightly as you looked at him, appreciating the affectionate gesture.

"You've grown so much," he remarked, turning his attention to Daeron.

"I'm certain I haven't grown that much," you insisted with a modest smile.

Daeron glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and snorted. "Oh, trust me, you’ve grown—just not in height, sister," he mocked. Unable to restrain yourself, you gave him a small shove in response.

Your uncle watched the exchange, a faint smile playing on his lips, and shook his head with a soft chuckle at your sibling rivalry.

Gwayne shook his head with a gentle sigh, his gaze shifting to Daeron. "Now, nephew, I understand why your mother insisted on sending you here. One day, you'll realize the value of your sister's presence. Treat her with the respect she deserves," he urged, his tone firm yet compassionate. You cast a sidelong glance at your brother, a small smile playing on your lips now that your uncle had come to your defense.

Daeron responded with an eye roll, his demeanor defiant. Gwayne cleared his throat, his expression turning more serious. "I'll have your cousin show you to your room, Daeron," he declared, nodding towards him. "As for you, Princess," Gwayne continued, extending his arm toward you. "I will personally escort you to your chambers." You took his arm promptly, grateful for his support and guidance in this unfamiliar place.

Gwayne escorted you up the stairs and down a hallway to your assigned room. As the door swung open, you couldn't shake the feeling of entering a stranger's room. Though the space was well-appointed and fair, it lacked the personal touch of home. Sensing your unease, Gwayne spoke up as the two of you entered.

"This will be your chambers. My quarters are just next door," he explained, his voice reassuring. "Consider me your protector, close at hand." His words were accompanied by a small, comforting smile.

In that moment, you realized Gwayne's striking presence: his piercing blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and eloquent speech. His demeanor offered a sense of security that eased your nerves, prompting you to return his smile warmly.

"You are to be your sworn protector then?" you questioned, eyebrows knitting together as you stood somewhat puzzled. Gwayne couldn't help but chuckle softly as he shook his head.

"No, sweet niece. There's no need for that here," he reassured you gently, "but I promise to watch over you." His words carried a comforting assurance.

You nodded in understanding, your hand still linked with his arm. "Did my mother explain why she sent me here?" you asked, recalling her vague answers and insistence that leaving the Red Keep was in your best interest. Gwayne sensed your unease and took your hands in his with tender care.

"Niece," he spoke softly, "Your mother didn't want to send you away, but you're soon to be married—or at least betrothed. She thought it would be easier for you not to be uprooted from your home like many maidens are." His explanation caused you to look away, a mixture of emotions stirring within you.

"I don't want to be betrothed to a stranger," you confessed to your uncle, your hands still held in his. "The thought of belonging to a man I don't know, who doesn't know me—it frightens me."

Gwayne's expression softened at your confession. He released one of your hands and gently cupped your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. His blue eyes held a depth of understanding as he listened intently to your words.

"Your feelings are valid, my dear. Many women share your apprehensions—I know your mother did," Gwayne said soothingly, hoping to bring you comfort. "Besides, not every lady finds herself betrothed to a stranger. Try not to let fear cloud your judgment until you've had the chance to know your intended," he urged gently, sensing he had eased your nerves.

"I'll leave you to rest now," Gwayne added, seeing your nod of approval. With that, he quietly exited your chambers.

As night descended upon Old Town, you tossed and turned in your sleep, consumed by an unrelenting yearning. The unfamiliar blankets and sheets, devoid of your scent, offered no comfort. Frustrated, you reached for a plush pillow, sitting up and clutching it tightly between your thighs. Slowly, you would rock your hips back and forth, pushing down your core with some friction to alleviate this frustration that burned between your thighs. Your eyes fluttered closed, your night gown slipping from your shoulder as your hips desperately humped the pillow beneath you. You thought of your uncle, you knew you shouldn't, and yet- you could not help but to think of how kissed your hand, the blue of his eyes, how he smelled of sage.

On the other side of the door, Gwayne awoke to a plaintive sound that he initially mistook for a cry. Even through the stone walls, the soft echo of his niece's distress reached him. With concern driving him, Gwayne rose from his bed, the urgency of his duty as her uncle compelling him. He slipped into a pair of pants and quietly left his room.

It was his responsibility to care for and protect her in this unfamiliar place, in the absence of their family. Moving with cautious steps, Gwayne approached her door. Normally, he would have knocked, but in his haste and concern, he bypassed this customary courtesy. He gently pushed the door open, making as little noise as possible.

What Gwayne had come face to face with made him freeze, his entire body tensing up as he looked to the figure of you, the princess, feverously humping a pillow. Your shoulder exposed and hard nipples showing through the sheer of the night gown. Your eyes were still closed as your hips rocked against the pillow. Eyebrows pushed together as soft cries left your lips. Gwayne was more than aware that he should not be there, that he should not be witnessing this, and yet he could not tear his eyes away.

Then you said it, "Gwayne." His name left your lips like a melody and it took one hush of his name to make him impossibly hard. To the point in stung and bulged from his trousers. It was then your eyes fluttered open, and in a few blinks they widened realizing that your uncle stood in the doorway. In a panic your hands grasped the pillow and brought it up to cover yourself.

"Oh, Gods. Princess, I'm -I'm sorry -" Gwayne barely managed to gush an apology as he had went fleeing the room, closing the door behind him as he went rushing back to his room. In the midst of his embarrassment he had been sweating, his heart racing as he stayed in the confides of his room.

He was still hard. Gwayne tried not to think about you. He tried not to think about how you cried as you humped your pillow or how sweetly you spoke his name but he could not.

Gwayne would wrestle with himself for nearly an hour, but at the agony of his own groin he could not contain himself. Gwayne would still be standing as he pulled his pants down, freeing his length as he took it in one hand.

This was wrong, this was so wrong.

And still, he began to pump himself to the thought of you pleasing yourself with a pillow.

I shouldn't be doing this.

He wondered how it would feel to be between your soft thighs, to have you be humping him.

He was almost there.

To have you scream his name instead of whisper it.

Gwayne would soon spill his seed onto the ground as his hand feverishly pumped himself to the thought of you. Gwayne would attempt to find sleep that night but had been unable to do so.

When the next day dawned, you anticipated a conversation with your uncle about the events of the previous night. However, it soon became apparent that Gwayne was actively avoiding you. He didn't join you for breakfast or supper, and your cousin took it upon themselves to entertain you with a tour of Old Town, while another cousin kept you occupied with needlepoint throughout the day. Despite your efforts, the entire day passed without a glimpse of him.

Returning to your chambers in the evening, a growing discomfort settled within you. You couldn't shake the feeling that Gwayne's absence was deliberate. Did he feel embarrassed for having found you in distress? Was he ashamed of you? These thoughts churned in your mind as you lay on your bed, staring up at the canopy for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, unable to endure the uncertainty any longer, you threw off the blankets and stormed out of your chambers. Determined, you strode purposefully to his door, bypassing the courtesy of knocking—after all, he hadn't extended the same courtesy to you last night. You entered his chambers with your face flushed with agitation.

Inside, Gwayne was not asleep. He sat up in bed, bare-chested with the blankets draped over his hips, revealing that he wore nothing underneath either.

"Princess, what are you doing?" Gwayne asked abruptly, his gaze flickering to the sheerness of your nightgown, which left little to the imagination. It was evident that your attire was not quite appropriate for a princess, but after what Gwayne had witnessed the previous night, your choice of clothing was the least of your concerns.

"You walked in on me last night and now you avoid me all day?" you questioned boldly, lifting your chin as you approached his bedside. Gwayne's hands tightened on the blanket, his discomfort palpable as you drew nearer.

"You should go," he insisted, attempting to avert his eyes from you.

"Why?" You questioned sharply as he approached. "Are you ashamed of me now?"

Gwayne shook his head, you had not yet noticed, and he had hoped you hadn't as he looked away.

"It's not that." he insisted quietly.

Your eyes looked down the look of anger seeming to melt from your face as your eyes noticed the bulge beneath the blankets. He was hard, trying to hide it, but failing to do so.

"Please leave." He was begging with all restraint he had. Gwayne could not even look you in the eye as he kept the blankets around him.

You stood there for a moment unsure how to approach but desire beginning to burn between your legs as you looked to him.

"Do you desire me, uncle?" You questioned moving closer to him as a hand gently touched his thigh grabbing a handful of the sheets he was using to cover himself.

"It is wrong- I should not." He said, answering your question without actually answering your question. It was enough for you, his grip tightening to hold the sheets in place as you carefully slid one leg up on the bed, allowing it to rest on one side of him. Gwayne showed restraint, but only little.

"Who says?" you questioned, eyes staring into his as he finally had enough gull to look at you.

"The Gods." he declared. "Common law-" he tried to say with some reason, the one thread of restraint still holding on within him.

"Fuck the Gods," You declared as your hand gave a gentle pull at the sheets. "Fuck Common Law-" He continued to hold on as you pulled. "And fuck me." you said nearly pleading.

Gwayne held the blankets for a moment longer as his eyes looked to you. "You are a maiden, are you not?" He questioned unsure in this moment based on your behavior.

"I am." you declared honestly as you looked to him.

"I can not deflower my own niece." He said allowing a moment of pride to shield him.

"I do not want my first time to be with some lord that I am married off to as a bargaining chip." You insisted nearly pleading. "I desire you, uncle and you desire me." You declared, his grip on the sheet loosening.

Gwayne battled with himself for a moment, but only for a moment, for his strong hands would reach for your face, pulling you gently to meet his lips. Your body pulled onto him as your lips met his. Gwayne kissed your lips with the hunger of a starved man, his hands moved to your night gown and pulled it up, parting his lips to discard it from your body leaving you exposed to him.

He wasted little time in pushing you down onto the mattress, allowing himself to rest above you. In the moon light he took in your bare figure, soon peppering kisses between the valley of your breast and down your body to your cunt. His lips would kiss down to your bud before he grabbed onto your hips. Pulling your thighs to rest on his shoulders as his face pushed into your cunt in a way a pillow never could. It was by this that you were already squirming, back arching at his touch.

Gwayne would not hesitate to allow his tongue to lay flat against your flushed sensitive bud, your hips pushing down slightly as he tried to keep you in place with his grip. Gwayne would lick slowly, tasting your virgin cunt as if it was a delicacy, something he was determine to savor.

Soft moans left your lips as his tongue continued to work against your dripping cunt. Gwayne was carefully when he inserted a finger inside of you. He did not dare to put more than one for with just one finger he could feel how incredibly tight you were. a realization that caused his cock to ache.

Gwayne would slowly pump his finger in and out of you as you moaned loudly, your hands becoming entangled in his long locks, and your thighs pushing shut against him. Gwayne wanted to question you, to ask how you were so sensitive, why you tasted so sweet- but he could not bring himself to remove his tongue if the king himself demanded it.

There would be a hot coil inside of you that would form, growing tighter, as your wet cunt clenched around his finger, and within a moment the coil snapped. A warm orgasm flushing over you as your thighs squeezed his head without mercy, soft tears fell from your eyes as you came down from your high. You were panting as your thighs loosened, Gwayne would pull his finger from you before sticking it in his mouth to suck in clean of your sweet juices.

The two of you locked eyes as you stared at one another for a moment. His hard cock pushed against the inside of your thigh as he debated if he should go through with this.

"We shouldn't." Gwayne gave a small fight once more for the sake of his honor and your own.

"Who would know?" You offered a simple excuse, hoping he would not declare the gods again.

"Who would know . . ." he repeated before he nodded. "You're right. Who would know." Gwayne reasoned as he grabbed his cock as he had carefully begun to move it against the wet folds of your cunt.

"You could drink moon tea after." he suggested again as you nodded in response.

"You're sure?" he asked again his blue eyes looking to you with tender concern but also the last bit of restraint he had in him.

"I am." You said as you pushed yourself down on him slightly causing him to groan.

Gwayne could wait no longer and therefore he lined himself up at your entrance and gently he begun to penetrate you, sliding into your wet cunt slowly.

Your back arched at the feeling of him filling you, he stilled, with only part of himself in you.

"More." You whined out in a demand as you waited for him to fill you completely.

"Patient, princess. Please- I do not wish to be spent so soon." Gwayne insisted, he had slowly begun to push into you. Your legs would soon tighten around his waist, forcing him to put the rest of himself in. A moan came from the both of you as he would soon begin to move slowly.

"Gods, you're so tight." He groaned as he slowly thrusted in and out of you at a slow rate, doing his best not to spill himself inside of you this early.

Gwayne would allow his thumb to return to your swollen bulb, rubbing it softly as he continued to fuck you at a slow and passionate rate. Despite the slow thrust he pushed deep into your warm velvet walls each time, enjoying the feeling of you squeezing his entire length.

Gwayne would continue at this slow rate as you cried out, soon lewd sounds of your wetness would fill the room mixed with your moans.

"I want to be on top." You pleaded, his hips stilled with hesitation. "Please." you begged.

Gwayne hesitated, but even he could not resist. He pulled out of you slowly before allowing his body to fall onto the bed. You wasted no time climbing on top of him and taking his length in your hand. Carefully you lowered your hips onto him.

"Fuck." Gwayne would groan at the sight of you above him. The vision of a Targaryen princess nude above him, as your hips begun to feverishly bounce on his cock. It took everything in him to not spill himself in you at this very moment.

"Princess, please." He pleaded his hands grabbing on your waist to try and slow you down but it was no use, you used him. Moving your hips quickly as you looked to him.

"Hold on, uncle. I'm almost there." You would insisted in a moan as you continued, the feeling of him throbbing inside of you as you fucked yourself on him was enough to let out a cry of pleasure.

"Please get off . . . "He begged, "I shouldn't . . . not inside of you." He insisted more as he tried to steady your hips, though as you moved he relented.

Gwayne could not hold himself back any longer, his fingers dug into your flesh as he came deep inside you. You continued as he filled you with his warm seed. Allowing yourself to fuck every last drop inside of you, peeking your own orgasm that caused Gwayne to grit his teeth. You would roll your hips over him, riding out your high before falling helplessly on the bed next to him. His seed spilling onto your plush thighs.

Gwayne panted as he had looked over to you with soft affection. "I'll have the maester make you moon tea in the morning." he insisted as you looked over to him with a small smile.

"Perhaps if you seed me with your child mother would be forced to marry me to you." You offered looking to him next to you in the bed.

"Or she would have my head." he offered back.

When morning came you were nearly limping as you joined Daeron at the breakfast table, he seemed somewhat restless as he picked at the eggs on his plate.

"There you are." He declared looking to you with dark shadows surrounding his eyes.

"You look like shit." You declared to him with no one else around, he looked to you with somewhat of a resenting look.

"Yeah, well if you're going to fuck our uncle again could you at least keep it down." Daeron declared.

You froze at his comment, you were going to muster up some kind of denial but Daeron spoke again.

"My chambers are on the other side of Uncle Gwaynes." He informed you.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 4] Expecting

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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Warnings: Sukuna's an ass

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Sukuna visits you every night, trying to fulfill his duty. He’s doing his best to make it happen, but your womb is as bare as the day you met. It’s been three months since the day you showed up, and he’s been having sex with you nearly daily. You should be pregnant by now.

Yet, you’ve bled between the months. He’s been keeping track, after all, it’s his whim. You claim the bleeding is lighter than your usual lunar cycle, but that doesn’t signify anything for him… Perhaps you’re less fertile? It doesn’t make sense to him. Women don’t bleed while they’re pregnant, therefore you’re not expecting. 

He’s feeding you, clothing you, giving you luxuries that you could never afford in your lifetime– How dare you not fulfill his simple wish. He’s even helped your brother and helped your aunt in the process as well, he’s going above and beyond while you have done nothing for him.

He’s become increasingly harsh with you. He won’t dare to lay a hand on you, but he’s meaner than usual. He’s at times cruel with you, and while you try to understand that he’s just frustrated with the situation and lack of results, you get in your feelings about his behavior. Who wouldn’t be upset at the fact that a monster nearly twice their size is yelling at them over something they can’t control?

“King Sukuna will enjoy dinner with lady Kyoko tonight, my queen.” Uraume bows down before you. They’ve been giving you the announcement at least once a week. He’s rewarding her for your barren womb. You simply hum in response, barely even acknowledging them.

“Please tell Hina to make my dinner early, I want to rest soon.” You tell them before they leave the room. Sukuna told you that you wouldn’t receive any loyalty from the very beginning, therefore you’re not upset that he goes off with Kyoko when he pleases. As a matter of fact, you’re glad that he’s choosing to visit her tonight.

You try not to think about the situation, though it’s the only thing that pops up in your mind. He’s done what you’ve asked from him, he’s simply waiting on you now. He’s impatient, he won’t wait around on you forever. He’ll get tired of waiting soon, and you fear what will happen to you that day. 

“My queen.” You barely hear Hina coming into your room, so you’re startled when you hear her voice. She holds your tray of food, and you sigh at the sight. The food she makes is delicious each and every time, but you’re just not in the mood to eat tonight. Sukuna won’t let you rest if he knows you haven’t eaten; he wants the process to be as fast and as smooth as possible.

“Hina, do you also cook for Kyoko?” You question once she puts the tray of food down. She furrows her brows, trying to recall who Kyoko is. The name doesn’t ring a bell.

“I apologize, I don’t know who that is.” She responds, and it gives you a sense of satisfaction that the servant that tends to you goes nowhere near Kyoko. Though Hina is more of your personal servant than anything. 

Ever since the night she cooked for you, she’s been tasked with a lot more regarding you. She’s well studied, knowing how to read and write which made Sukuna force her to teach you. She keeps you company during your lonely afternoons, cheering you up while you wait for Sukuna to visit your room. You’re starting to see her as a friend, and the thought of Kyoko getting anywhere near her upsets you.

“Will you keep me company tonight?” You ask her, even though she doesn’t have much of an option. Your request is a command– Luckily for her, she doesn’t mind at all.

“Of course.” She answers with a subtle smile on her lips. She kneels before you, and waits for you to speak. She speaks when spoken to. She steals some glances your way, watching the way you eat the food that she made for you. You usually devour the meal, but it seems that tonight you’re eating with disgust. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to remake the meal?”

“I don’t have much of an appetite, my apologies.” You tell her, and she holds her breath. She hates to scold you but it’s her duty.

“You mustn’t apologize, my queen. King Sukuna would kill me if he were to hear your words.” She responds, and you’re about to mutter another apology due to your carelessness, but you hold back. You chuckle before giving her a slight nod. “What’s on your mind?”

“What makes a woman fall pregnant? Other than sex.” You ask her, and she’s taken back by your question. Her lips form into a straight line as she takes one good look at you. 

“Why would you like to know, my queen? You’re already expecting.” She says, and you furrow your brows. Hina has been by your side to see everything that’s been going on for the past couple of months, she knows that you’re not expecting. 

“Hina… This isn’t a joke.” You tell her, frankly a bit offended that she’s said what she said. She maintains the same serious expression, and you can’t make anything of it. “I’ve still been bleeding.”

“When my mother was pregnant, she bled. Granted, we had no idea but within seven months she had a healthy baby.” She answers. “It sometimes happens.”

“Babies come early.” You point out. Hina knows a lot, but you know your own body. If you were carrying a baby, you’d feel it.

“They do. But you’re also waking up nauseous, with tender breasts and you’re extremely fatigued throughout the day. I’ve been by your side enough to know.” She explains, and you chew on the inside of your cheek. Maybe you’re just sick, it doesn’t signify that you’re pregnant. “Plus you’ve been gaining some weight, it seems like a baby to me.”

“Let’s change the topic.” You end up saying, getting annoyed with her. She’s telling you what she’s noticed, yet you’re getting irritated with the mere suggestion that you’re expecting. You don’t want to get your hopes up in the case that you aren’t.

A week after Hina tells you that you’re expecting, you begin to feel all the symptoms that she mentioned but even worse than before. You think you’re just getting into your head, giving yourself false hope. You’re in your head a lot since Sukuna has stopped visiting you at night. He no longer asks for you to join him for dinner, and you can’t remember the last time you saw his face.

“Hina…” You begin, needing the opinion of someone else. She’s told you that you’ve been gaining weight, but you need her confirmation once again. 

“Yes, my queen?” Hina responds without wasting a second. She’s flashed by you, and she doesn’t even blink twice. It’s common for her to see you bare as she helps you get ready– Though being suddenly flashed is not usual.

“Am I gaining weight?” You ask her, and she nods in response.

“You are expecting.” She reaffirms you for the umpteenth time that week. It goes in one ear and out the other for you, and you’ll ask her in ten minutes once again. Hina walks over to you and tries to cover you with your robe, “Please cover yourself before someone walks inside.”

“Who’s going to dare–” You begin, cut off by the door to your room sliding open. Uraume walks inside, about to give an announcement but they take one good look at you. You’re thinking that they’re staring at you because you’re pretty much naked, and that’s only part of the issue. A subtle smile comes to Uraume’s lips.

“I shall tell him the news.” Uraume says, and you furrow your brows. What are they saying? Are they talking about the fact that you’re practically naked? It’s not anything crazy considering Hina is your servant and helps you with everything throughout the day.

“It’s not necessary.” You tell them, but they don’t listen to you and walk out of the room. It’s not a matter that requires Sukuna so why are they telling him this? Is Hina not supposed to see you bare? “What are they going to do?”

“Tell him the news that you’re expecting.” Hina fixes your robe, and you click your tongue. 

“How would they be able to tell? I don’t even have a bump, I’ve just gained some weight.” You say, and Hina lets out a chuckle. You still refuse to acknowledge it, but she can’t blame you. There isn’t a definite way for you to know. She just feels the energy the moment she steps anywhere near you, it’s too hard to ignore.

“We’ll see what King Sukuna says.” Hina tells you after she’s done dressing you up again. She’d make you more presentable, but she has a feeling that you won’t go out so there isn’t a need for it. She wants you to be as comfortable as possible.

Your body tenses up as you hear his loud footsteps approach the room. You feel as if you were a child about to get in trouble, even if you haven’t done anything wrong– Not to your knowledge at least. Hina bows down on the floor the moment Sukuna enters the room. You don’t give him the same honor, you don’t need to.

“Come here.” Sukuna doesn’t have to speak twice before you’re stepping towards him. You hold your breath when you’re before him, growing impatient as you wait for him to do something. A wicked smile forms on his face before he gleefully says, “It’s resonating.”

“What–” You begin as his hands go to your lower abdomen.

“He has a strong flow of cursed energy.” Sukuna points out, which leaves you confused. The statement isn’t meant for you though, you notice Uraume smiling before they bow down their head. “So much… It has to be twins.”

“Twins?!” You’re still denying the fact that you’re expecting, the mere suggestion that you’re expecting more than one baby is baffling. You try to take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “How do you even know I’m pregnant? It–”

“Do not question me, woman.” Sukuna can’t even properly yell at you, as a weird feeling consumes him… Satisfaction, it has to be. He’s finally getting what he wants. “How did I not notice?”

“You haven’t–” Uraume begins but Sukuna turns his head to glare at them. They bite their tongue as Sukuna looks back down at you.

“You have to eat properly. I’ll overlook your every meal.” Sukuna says, which is overwhelming to hear. Dinner with Sukuna was already an experience, so you aren’t necessarily excited to have him watch you eat every meal. 

“Is that necessary?” You ask him, and Hina is surprised by your bold words. Though she guesses you can say whatever you’d like when you’re expecting Sukuna’s child. “I mean so far I’m eating well and everything–”

“I will be accompanying you.” He hates when he has to repeat himself, but he guesses he has no other option. He’s not going to harm you in any way, at least not when you’re clearly pregnant. “Uraume make the announcement, and set people to watch her.”

“Watch me? Am I a child?” You question, and he can’t help but chuckle. You truly are clueless, he can’t help but be amused.

“Someone will try to harm you. You’re so pathetic that you can’t fend for yourself, so I’ll assign someone to watch you.” Sukuna answers, and just as the words leave his lips, an idea comes to mind. Would he like to have you by his side all day and every day? Absolutely not. Does he want to ensure that you’re safe and his son(s) are alright? Yes. In that way he’ll also have the pleasure to rub it in everyone’s face that he’s having an heir. “I retract my order. I’ll be watching her.”

“King Sukuna, that’s not the best decision–” Uraume begins, thinking about your well-being considering Sukuna’s life is something that you’re not ready to see. You’ve been shielded from it the past couple of months, but he’s even worse than the being that he presents himself to be.

“I’ve made my decision and that’s final. Who are you to question my order?!” He raises his voice, which is the most extreme reaction that he’d give Uraume. If they were anyone else, they would’ve taken their final breath. Sukuna rolls his eyes before speaking again, “You, on the floor, make her something to eat. And you, Uraume, get to work on my food.”

“Yes, my king.” They respond in unison before walking out of the room, leaving you alone with Sukuna.

You aren’t sure what to do once you’re alone with him. Whenever you’re alone with him you proceed to have sex, but it’s too early in the day for that to happen. You’re not sure if it’s going to happen again, not when you’re already expecting.

“You’ve proved to be useful.” Sukuna comments, extending one of his arms for you to take, so you can walk with him to the dining room. You’re hesitant to take it, but you end up doing what he wants you to since you don’t need him to raise his voice at you. Walking alongside him is an honor for anyone, and you’re the first to do it– Not because he sees you as an equal, but because you carry something that is.

“How do you know that I’m expecting?” You question, which goes unheard by him. It’s not for the same reasons as Hina since Sukuna isn’t by your side to know that your body has been changing. You recall his words from earlier, though they make little to no sense.

“What do you want?” Sukuna asks you, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, looking up at him. “You must want a gift considering you’ve partially fulfilled your duty.”

“Oh…” You respond. Your gift was him helping your brother and aunt, which he already has done. But he’s offering something more, which you’ll gladly accept. You just have to think about what you want. “Can I see my family?”

“No. Anything else?” Sukuna answers, and you sigh. You shake your head, you don’t want anything else for the time being. “Jewelry is what your kind likes, no?”

“I guess.” 

“Then you’ll get jewelry.”

[dilftaroooo]

Request: True form Sukuna claiming his offering in front of her village.

im gonna write this as a drabble :3

★tags/tw: uhh implied cannibalism + cervix fucking + sukuna is pretty misogynistic + fem!reader + discrimination against humans(?) idfk + true form!sukuna + loss of virginity

You delicately sit in the middle of the stage, introducing yourself to the slew of men and women scattered about like spilled salt on a kitchen table. Your legs are spread to present to them your blooming flower--still pink and untouched. It twitches under the many watchful eyes of diverse emotions--horror, confusion, lust, envy. They all poured down on you amid a lethal storm, droplets pounding your skin and soaking you thoroughly. You turn your head to avoid the plethora of wicked gazes. The feeling is overwhelming.

Behind you lies a demon. A great being, an entity that holds more power than anyone close or far. His teeth are sharp, his eyes are beady, and his stomach is hungry for the innocence of a fresh maiden. The people of your village brought you here. They made sure your scent was pleasant and that you were garbed in the cleanest of silk--your uchikake was adorned in floral patterns reminiscent of the trees that bloomed near your home.

They knew you'd be deemed a perfect offering for Sukuna-sama, the King of Curses--you're a sweet girl with a pure body, your breasts are full and your thighs are plump. They were sure if their King ever grew bored of you, he could easily dispose of your youthful frame by savoring your flesh and keeping your skull as a precious souvenir. Innocents always taste sweeter than most.

Though your legs were spread, they weren't spread enough for Sukuna as he already gripped your thighs with a strict pressure you weren't unfamiliar with. The squelch that leaves your pussy parts as he further widens your limbs was a sound everyone managed to capture. You're wet and slimy and maybe somewhat aroused. Your King is an attractive beast with a chiseled chin and a beguiling grin. Intricate, onyx lines surface the apex of his taut muscles and the sight makes you clench around thin air. You ponder on what he'd look like if he were a mere human such as yourself.

"All of you!" He starts, his voice booms through the premises and you're surprised by how powerful the echo is despite not being in an enclosed space. As expected, everyone gears their eyes toward the four-armed monster in preparation for his next words. "I want you mortal freaks to watch me fuck this girl you were so kind to offer me. If it hadn't been for this young duckling I would've already slaughtered this putrid village and watched my militia of curses swallow you whole."

He's quick for his size as he brings you onto his hefty lap, and from there you already feel one of his cocks coat itself against your wet slit. He's huge and lingering at the back of your mind, you wonder if you would die at first thrust. His tip is an angry red, livid from the languid teasing performed by its heaving owner from rubbing it across the length of your weeping cunt. It isn't long before his playful ministrations are seduced into slamming inside you.

You weren't even spared a moment of reconsideration for your hymen was already snapped into two, disintegrating upon impact. It would have been a shame to experience your deflowering with a prominent tummy bulge if it wasn't for how much your mind and soul revere the beast overlapping your weak presence.

You were his and he was his own as he violently hammered himself down to the hilt. You bathed him in the blood of a former virgin while he hits that bruised cervix within you. Your back is against that sculpted chest you worship dearly and his sweat rubs off on you is strong with his pheromones.

"Sukuna-sama," You mewl because he's so deep in your pussy that you can't fight back the urge to call out his name. He responds with a finger to your clit and a hand on your breast, making it his duty to circle a thick finger around your nipple.

"I don't remember granting you permission to speak now, did I?" His tone is dark enough to make you believe you've done something utterly wrong but your apology comes out in a series of wanton moans. He chuckles at how the pathetic always act so miserably.

"But since you're clasping around me so tightly," Burgundy red orbs glare at the side of your left cheek, previously moistened with tears of pain and gratitude. "I'll let your sheer idiocracy go. I don't think any of the past wenches you humans throw at me grip my dick this hard. I assume they were used up til they were nothing but a gaping hole." Then he frowns.

"They must think poorly of me."

Sukuna cherishes the screams rushing out of your throat as you take him inch by overbearing inch, stretching you out to accommodate his length and girth. You're nothing but his plaything.

You practically forget the crowd casted in front of you once you hear subdued chattering coming from multiple voices, all laced with different tones with different perceptions. You feel like a common whore.

Throughout, Sukuna never kissed you. He believes he should not taste the lips of a revolting human for it'll taint his palate. He just fucks into you as you bounce like some ragdoll abandoned by a little girl. But if life has fated you with the opportunity to become Sukuna's, your King's, toy, then may you not change the inevitable.

[lady-ashfade]

Hi could you please do yandere house of dragon x Helena twin and when Luke takes Aemond eye he also accidentally cut reader neck, and when they everyone’s gathered Alicent going crazy, reader faints making everyone extremely worried. Luke felt terrible ?

More Then A Eye

Yan!Various!HOTD Characters x Fem!Reader

Made this were the reader was the only one injured because that makes it more fun, and also might make a part 2 so that will come into play if I make that. Also feel like if it was just the reader it would be more interesting.

Warnings: Blood, gore, knifes, violence, yandere actions, reader being injured, me going slight into-depth on how the reader gets cut. Pretty much the whole thing.

Reader wants the family to all get along while the chaos is going on. She is sweetheart like her sister, but she doesn’t have the sight as her sister does. So she notices most of what’s happening, the other half of her sister.

Reader stops Aemond from getting picked on when she’s near because she has the power to make the boys calm, and the rest of the family at that. So she can get mad and upset so aemond feels at ease when his sister is around. But all the boys long for her affection and love, so they all cling to her.

The funeral is a very sad time for her since she loved Laena and the thought of her cousins losing their mother. Or her uncle losing his wife.

So to the readers surprise when she see aemond and jace have a small moments it brings a warmth to her chest in this dark time. Hoping that this was the gods way to bring her family together, but her hopes soon vanished when night came.

She had heard the others walk through the hallways as she tried to fall asleep, opening her door and their whispering calls. They got her attention and claimed someone stole vhagar so she went with them.

“I think we need to wake up our parents.” But her words were shoot down as they dragged her through the halls and down through the castle.

As soon as she saw the white hair she knew it was aemond and she wished she stayed in bed. The kids started to shout, while aemond replied in a time she never heard before, not shy. But proud and filled with venom.

When the fight broke out and all the reader could do was scream and cry for them to stop, but her body froze up. As soon as aemond grabbed ahold of Luke she ran towards him and grabbed ahold of his arm.

“Please, do not hurt them anymore. We- We can all stop this madness,” she looked around at all of them with tears. “Let us all be family.” Aemond was so caught up in his own wrath he pushed the reader back so she wouldn’t get in his way.

He threw Luke to the ground after calling jace and Luke “Strongs.” Then throwing the younger boy to the ground. Jace pulled out a small knife and the reader gasp as they fought again, but the knife was thrown elsewhere.

She watched as Luke crawled to the knife with a interesting to hurt aemond so her body moved on its own. “Aemond!” Just as she shouted she was cut off with the sound of flesh being cut with his blade and gushing sounds. They watch the horror in front of their eyes go down. Blood rolling down her throat and gasped of failed attempts of air when she fell to the ground with her hands clawing at her own throat.

Luke dropped the knife and steps back in disbelief of what was happening. Aemond caught his sister and laid her down in his arms trying to stop the bleeding. “How could you! I’ll kill you! I’ll feed you to my dragon.” He started to cry as did the others.

“What’s going on here?” The guards shouted as the walked up on the children and soon realized the princess. They took her in their arms and sent for the maester and the king at once. Everyone soon garnered in the hall for what had happened.

Alicent screamed when she first saw her daughter and it was loud that everyone in the castle heard. Running to her daughter with tears in her eyes she started to move her hair out of the way as the maester worker. Viserys screamed at the guards to answer who had done it but he wasn’t expecting his own grandsons. Aemond sat at his mothers side while handing the readers hand. Healana looked at the ground with a sob. She had saw it in a nightmare once’s that felt so real, this exact moment.

The boys stayed back and far away. Luke not even daring to look at the reader knowing he caused her harm and pain. All of them wondering if she would be dead soon. Alicent was so focused she didn’t even pay attention to anything but the reader being life and to keep her that way.

When rhaenrya entered it was hell to pay. Reader had just got done with her stitches while still knocked out cold as her body tried to heal itself. “You,” Alicent screamed and pointed at the princess. “You’re filthy sons did this.” Rhaenrya had not see the reader yet as she looked at her sons. When her eyes looked onto the readers body her eyes went wide and looked back at her sons not believing a word.

“They did this?” She asked around the room as the boys tensioned up. “It’s true, jace brought the knife to the fight and his brother, Luke, did the deed.” Cole spiked with a snare. Luke tugged at his mother’s sleeves, “But I did not mean too. Aemond was going to kill jace! The reader got in the way.” All the children started to scream their own defense as everyone watched.

The king was mad but not at the children but at the guards for not doing their jobs. Saying this would have been avoided if they were watched closely. “She would not want us to fight and surely you all know it.” He turned to look at young Luke in the eyes. “I know you did not mean it boy, things can be forgiven.” Alicent looked at rhaenrya as she smiled softly and pull her sons behind herself and listened to Viserys plead of forgiveness and family.

“He deserves no forgiveness,” Alicent stood up and let go of your hand. “The knife was brought to the fight and one of our children could have been killed- Y/n almost died, or might not make it.” She inched closer with a glare and her hands made up into a fist. “Our little girls life being stolen can be..Forgiven?”

“It is what’s right! I love her with my heart but it has been decided, no more blood needs to be shed. Do not let your hatred blind you Alicent.” She stared at him as he spoke so calmly and started to walk away. Her eyes went to the dagger on his hip and her mind filled with red to see her daughter avenged. Moving quickly she took the blade from his side and held it up going for Luke.

“If you will not see to justice then I shall.” Rhaenrya pushes her sons back and caught Alicent before she got closer. They held each other, pushing and pulling to get what they wanted. “Another insult to my family and you get away with it? Just under falling under that pretty foot. It is not far, where is duty? Where is sacrifice?” Rhaenrya looked at the blade as it reflected off the fire light.

She was about to say something but a loud metal sound caught them off guard. They both looked back as the reader laid on the floor with her eyes open and reached out for them. Her head shaking as she tried to speak out but nothing was coming out. Aemond coming to her aid and helping her up but she had used her the rest of her strength to get out of the chair. Reader looked at her brother for help to help and speak her mind, pleading to do the right thing.

“No more blood shed mother.” His spoke but his eyes do not match his words. “She does not wish it.” Helaena came rushing down to her twins side and held her hand. Alicent looked back at rhaenrya one last time before pulling away and dropping the knife. Slowly inching back she looked around at her husband, only with anger and devastation.

Everyone was quiet as she ordered someone to carry her daughter out of the room with the maester. The kids walked with her and held onto their sisters hand as she fell back into a deep sleep. No one could speak a word as they all stood stocked.

For years that was the last time rhaenrya and her kids saw their aunt, along with Daemon. But letters where sent in private from the reader to all of them with updates and her forgiveness. But luke refuses to open and read them as his guilt rotted away at his soul. But each week for years new letters still came from her. The next time they all saw eachother, they all grown so much. But they all remembered the first acted of war.

One side trying to make amends and the other full of revenge.

[venusbyline]

Gwayne Hightower — Merciful Gods (2/3)

chapter two

(previous chapter)

(next chapter)

— summary: Gwayne Hightower is back in King's Landing. Just as you are willing to try to avoid your uncle at all costs, he is more than eager to finally show you the price for his silence.

— pairing: Gwayne Hightower x niece!reader

— type: dark

— word count: 4.2k

— chapter's warnings: female!reader, dark!Gwayne, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Hightower Incest (uncle/niece), dubcon, non-con touching, sexual tension, pre-smut, blood licking, blood and injury, finger sucking, violence, choking, asphyxiation, dacryphilia, degradation, sexism, religious conflict, religious guilt, corruption kink, age gap (older man/younger woman), referenced non-con voyeurism, referenced oral sex (male receiving), past underage dubcon, argument, face-slapping, hair-pulling, fingering, gaslighting, manipulation, curse words, referenced character death, prince regent!Aemond mentioned, dark content, abusive and toxic relationship, obsessive behaviour, minor Gwayne Hightower/random lady, sub!reader, dom!Gwayne, canon divergence. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: Merciful Gods is a threeshot series. It involves dark content about religiosity (The Faith of the Seven), incest relationship and women's repressed carnal desires.

— author's notes²: Each chapter will have its own trigger warnings.

— crossposting: AO3

❥ about me • Gwayne masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

❥ Merciful Gods masterlist

You were sitting in an armchair in the chambers where your oldest brother Aegon was bedridden, the smell of burning flesh making the daily visit there almost unbearable. Your fingers tapped the cup of milk of the poppy that Larys Strong had demanded you deliver to the King when he woke up.

The sight of the liquid was quite disheartening to watch, the fate's irony aching your chest every time you thought about the whole situation. You had seen your mother handing it to your father to drink too, without any success. Viserys died anyway and now your brother seemed destined for the same tragic end. Or at least a part of it.

When Aegon began to blink his eyes slightly, you wiped away the single tear running down your cheek, moving yourself closer to the bed. You quickly approached him to carefully place the edge of the cup on his injured and swollen lips. "Here..."

Aegon drank the milk with a frown, the discomfort inside his throat persisting even after weeks since he was brutally attacked. His groan of pain resounded and made you immediately step back, setting the small container aside and placing it on top of the bed table.

"Why are not you at Sept again?" His voice was so hoarse and you almost jumped with surprise. After a few seconds trying to understand what your brother was asking about, you shifted uncomfortably on the free part of the mattress, right next to him.

"I am not going there as often anymore. Our Mother asked me to focus on your health during some weeks."

Aegon scoffed at the whispered words and the guilty look on your face. "Of course she ordered that..." He changed the words.

Alicent had asked you? Ordered? You did not know... She looked worried when she came to tell you to stop accompanying her and Helaena in their prayers. At first, you did not understand the reasons and tried to search her for answers, only receiving a quick and somewhat stuttered argument that you should focus on your King for a while. That made sense, you thought.

Helaena preferred not to even go near Aegon's chambers, going there twice at most, once when he arrived all burned and almost dead, and again a few days later. Alicent also did not usually visit her firstborn, claiming that she could not watch his deplorable state for too long without wanting to cry. Aemond had also only been there twice during all that time, but you doubted that the current Prince Regent's visits had been friendly.

There was only you left. Born in 112 AC, two years after Aemond's birth and two years before Daeron's. Being King Viserys's youngest daughter came with very few perks. Unlike Daeron, who liked to be forgotten by the family and live as just a knight in Oldtown, there was an incessant search in your heart for belonging. The desire to be seen. To be useful. It did not take long for you to accept the duty of taking care of Aegon for an indefinite period of time, even if it meant that you would be away from your religious responsibilities.

The Gods would not be so angry if you left them aside so you could take care of the remaining health of your older brother and your King... Right?

"Well... then you are not lighting candles for the sake of my life anymore. I suppose that is why I am not getting better."

The King's joke dried your throat with guilt and embarrassment, but you immediately shook your head, refusing to think something like that. "That is not true. The Seven know I am just not going to the Great Sept for now because I need to be useful to you."

Aegon raised an eyebrow, a frown deepening on his face due to the pain that hit him after trying to change his expression. "If the Gods understood your reasons, then why am I not cured yet?"

Aegon's words were bitter but true at the same time. Even though you are sitting, your body flinched and you sighed, staring at the empty part of the chambers, thinking about what would be better to say so you could refute what he was suggesting. The Seven knew what was happening. They should have known that you continued to beg for mercy every day in your thoughts, despite you were not present in the Sept.

Perhaps your prayers were no longer being answered because Aegon had never been a religious man and had committed countless sins throughout those twenty-two years of his life.

Or perhaps it was your own fault, sealing your family's fate two years ago, when you did not care about the Faith's value and had let your rebellious and dark desires take over your mind, fingerfucking yourself at the middle of the Great Sept, ignoring the knowledge about the Gods seeing your sinful act.

"The pleas of the sinners are not answered with the same speed as those of good and devout people."

Your point was not just about Aegon, and he probably knew this when he stared at your shrunken and pensive form with those big eyes that had once been full of energy and fun, and that were now nothing more than two dull irises even in the midst of the fire.

"And what are the sins of a little child?"

The King's rhetorical question froze his body. What had been Jaehaerys' sins, your little nephew? Just a innocent child brutally decapitated in front of his mother and his twin sister, suffering such a violent and tragic end due to the actions of his family's ambition and impulsiveness...

How could the Seven have no mercy and allow such suffering to a pure being like him? Why would they punish Jaehaerys instead of Aemond? How could they allow Daemon and Rhaenyra to remain alive out there, even after planning such a monstrosity?

During dinner, you found yourself lonely in the dining room, the table practically empty, just you and your mother occupying two opposite ends of the large, luxurious furniture. The only sounds the walls had the displeasure of witnessing were the servants passing back and forth with the dishes, even though neither you nor Alicent seemed interested in the meal.

As Alicent tore into a piece of steak with her knife and fork, you could not help but break the silence with a barely audible murmur. "Before the war, you never told me what your plans were for my future."

It was not a question, it was a statement. A statement that did not seem to catch Alicent off guard, even if that was a part of your true intention. Why has everything in your life always seemed so... monotonous?

Alicent and Otto decided the future of almost all of the Queen's children since their childhood, and all of your siblings were failing in crucial parts of the plans that had been laid out for them years before.

Aegon was supposed to be the King, but he had always been an irresponsible drunk, without expectation of a bright future and being content about anything as long as there was wine and beautiful women to satisfy his emptiness and lust. Now, he was nothing more than a broken person. A burned and bedridden king, following in his father's footsteps.

Helaena was supposed to be the Queen Consort and carry Aegon's heirs, ensuring the Hightower bloodline on the Iron Throne. Now, her fertile womb and also her submissive personality were of no use after her son's death. A ghost of a traumatized mother. A traumatized little girl, losing her firstborn just as Alicent feared losing hers.

Aemond was supposed to be a loyal brother, a dragonrider with great sword skills, ensuring protection for his family and using his intelligence for the prosperity of Aegon's reign. He had the potential to become the Hand of the King as the years passed. Now, the smart boy was nothing more than a callous tyrant who had led everyone to ruin by starting an entire war out of pure impulsivity and rage. Like an imitation of his grandfather, Otto, always blinded by the desire for power. Always wishing more than was within his reach.

Daeron was supposed to be the free knight, daring and focused on his responsibilities with the kingsguard and raised far from King's Landing, an attempt to keep him immune to the family chaos. Now, he was being summoned by Aemond to return to the place where he was born and fight for the Greens, thus ending his days as a carefree soul. Like your uncle Gwayne, being forced to sacrifice his peace and spill more blood around.

And then there was you. No great future waiting for you nor causing your end either. There was no heavy crown. There were no children inside your wombs. There were no bloody swords with the blood of your own family members and no horseback riding into battle too.

There was simply nothing.

Nothing like Viserys. Nothing like Alicent. Nothing like Otto and nothing like Gwayne...

An empty crumpled parchment and ignored in the corner of a room, longing for the day when somebody would pick up a fountain pen and write each step of your story until there was no more space left and they were forced to put a spot on the final page.

"Years ago, I considered sending you to Oldtown along with Daeron."

You were surprised by Alicent's confession, not because your mother had given up on that idea for some unknown reason, but because she had at least considered that. It was something curious. Otto and she could have tried to betroth you to Aemond before the Dance of the Dragons, as they had done with Helaena and Aegon, or they could have used you to form a political marriage with a lord from other powerful house even now, acquiring more allies. Unless...

"What would I do in Oldtown back then?" Alicent snorted when she listened to your whispered insistence, stopping chewing the meal and staring at you with a look that indicated that matter was not the most appropriate at the dinner time.

"I did not know. Becoming a Septa, I guess."

You felt sick to your stomach, your heart racing as thoughts about serving the female clergy of the Faith of the Seven left you somewhat stunned. You knew that in the end, your mother's previous plan had been set aside with the unfolding of the Dance of the Dragons.

The problem was not about your mother wishing such a simple fate for her second and youngest daughter. No... You understood her, despite everything. Faith had always been valuable to her, to most of the Hightowers' ancestors and also for Alicent's mother's side of the family.

The biggest problem was about your mother considering a religious life for you, and you disappointed both her and the Gods, the memory of you pleasuring yourself at the Sept remaining vivid inside your mind, tormenting you with guilt during the last few moons.

You mumbled and looked at the porcelain plate in front of you. "I do not think I would deserve to serve the Gods in this way."

Your words were met with Alicent humming an agreement, followed by a low scoff. "That is why I was forced to discard my initial idea." Eyes immediately widened, you watched your mother with confusion and curiosity, a chill running down your spine while Alicent returned your gaze, her face serious and her jaw clenched. "Two years ago, your grandfather was informed about your immoral and perverted act within the Great Sept."

By the time dinner was over and the tears were running down your face like a torrent, you headed to your uncle's chambers, not caring about the presence of the guards patrolling there. You ignored everyone's confused looks and opened the doors like a dragon about to breathe fire on all the walls.

"YOU LIED TO ME!"

Gwayne was not even worried about the sudden visit, unlike the random lady lying naked on his bed, covering her own breasts in a failed attempt to spare her dignity, unaware that you were not focused on her identity at all.

It did not matter if your uncle was fucking with court ladies in the midst of the few minutes of peace during the war. That was irrelevant at that moment, your mind was driven only by purest anger, the feeling of betrayal burning in your chest.

The girl, who looked almost as young as you, started to get dressed when Gwayne whispered something in her ear. However, you did not wait for her to finish, continuing to talk — or yell — with the red-haired man. "You are a fucking liar!"

Your uncle frowned at your accusation, and despite the heavy atmosphere, he did not even bother to deny it. He shrugged, gazing at his niece with an expression that indicated his only frustration was at being interrupted at the particular moment with the other lady. "May I know what is motivating your fury this time?"

You let out a low growl after his presumptuous tone, giving one last look at the girl who was leaving the chambers, turning to Gwayne again. "You promised me you would not tell anyone about what you saw two years ago!"

The shouting caused a chuckle from Gwayne, who got up from the bed without any sheets around his waist, his rosy and still mid-aroused cock catching your attention against your will. You felt your cheeks blushing with shame and frustration as you remembered those curly pubic red hairs so close to your mouth and almost making you choke.

Memories increasing your anger like a erupting volcano. "You... You bought my silence! You made me beg and cry for you mercy... You made me—" Words died in your mouth and you sobbed again, placing the palm of the hand on your face to stifle the panic that was setting in. How could he do something like that?

How could you done something like that?

The Seven would never forgive any of you.

"Is this why our family is suffering too much, uncle? Is this why the Gods no longer forgive us? Is everyone suffering because we sinned twice that night?"

Gwayne's amused look changed when the questions came, his eyes that were previously mocking your tantrum were now as dark as the last time you interacted alone with him, hands clenched into fists to try to control the whirlwind of emotions.

Weeks ago, your uncle had said that you would pay for slapping him after he insulted you in the Great Sept and reminded you about your own sins... You thought he might say something to Alicent, tell her about your old dirty little secret. Or even invent lies that would ruin your reputation.

Everything you imagined before was like a mere joke, like a child's prank compared to what Gwayne really done. The revelation that he ratted you out right after buying your silence with a sexual way made you feel sick. You had been deceived. You had been used. You had been eternally tainted in the eyes of the Seven.

And you could not put all the blame on your uncle shoulders. Yes, Gwayne sworn to keep your secret and deceived you then. But he would not have done that if you had not given in to immorality either way. Gwayne would not have needed to put you on your knees and force you to give him a head if you had not pleasured yourself at a sacred place. Gwayne would not treated you like a cheap whore if you had not acted like one.

You caused all of this, allowing yourself to be deceived, used and stained.

You angered the Gods, with no expectation of divine forgiveness.

"I am dirty." The whisper caught Gwayne off guard, one eyebrow raised and waiting for the next words. Your eyes glazing over the chambers floor as you followed saying. "When we met again at the Sept a few moons ago... You said I was dirty."

Gwayne nodded. "Yes, I did." He waited for you to continue, huffing as the silence progressed. "And now you are going to admit that I was right?"

You did not respond him at first, tears aching the violet irises and throat feeling raw, nothing but light sobs coming out. Realization hit you with such violence that you felt like you were going to pass out, your eyesight becoming blurred and the food you ate during the dinner rolling around in your stomach. The waves of the Narrow Sea during winter nights would be gentle compared to the thoughts that drowned your mind.

"Fuck, little niece. Do not be so dramatic..." The man growled, moving until he was in front of you, his two strong calloused hands grabbing your forearms and pulling you until you sat carelessly on his large bed. There was no resistance, your head aching so much that for a moment the brief pain he caused was an anchor keeping you sane to the real world, an anchor keeping you a sinner alive. "Look at me, girl." He ordered, noticing how the violet color of your irises became opaque every second you thought about those manners. When you did not obey him immediately, Gwayne grabbed your chin, refusing to let you stare into space like a complete insane.

"Did you know? Did you know that my mother wanted to make me a Septa?" It was the first thing you allowed yourself to question him — the first thing you had the courage to question to him.

Gwayne's silence lasted for seconds, staring at you and clenching his jaw, biting his lower lip for a few seconds. "Yes." You already knew what was coming. "I did. That is why I told my father about your sinful act."

You could not help but scoff. "So you wanted to take away my opportunity to have any future other than being a maiden in the middle of a war, unable to do anything to help my family? No use or—"

His free hand grabbed your neck and the other kept your chin turned towards him. "You think I am the villain here and you are my victim? You are acting like I forced you to suck my cock and then stabbed you in the back."

"It is because you actually did it!" You returned his growl. The fingers around your throat were nothing more than an extra grip, but you knew Gwayne could choke you at any second if he wanted to. "Two years ago I was crying with shame at being seen in my sinful moment, and you took advantage of that. You said that every silence requires a price, and you demanded that I give you pleasure. You used my throat like I was a whore and soon after went to tell my grandfather about my sin!"

Gwayne was silent for a while, his big brown eyes returning your gaze, finally letting go of your face and neck. Before you could think, Gwayne pulled you out of bed, pushing you against the floor, his hand on top of your head to prevent you from reaching up. "Stop fighting!" He shouted, his fingers now tangling in your hair, pulling at the silver strands and making you cry out due to ache in your scalp. "I saved your miserable life!"

Your nails dug into his bare thigh to fight against his dark side, pulling out blood drops that ran like honey. However, the sudden violence increased the intensity of the darkness inside Gwayne's soul, his palm hitting your face twice until you were seeing stars, your head now stretched out towards him, kneeling on the ground like a religious and devout girl. No longer for the Gods. Just for him.

There was blood on your lips, caused by the hard slap so close to your mouth. The tears flowed desperately, the sobs echoed low as if it were the cries of an innocent child, your nails were red-stained after hurting Gwayne and trying to feel less pathetic and fragile.

"I saved you." Your uncle said again, watching you crying as if it were a spectacle. "That is why I told my father about your secret. Because I know you better than anyone, sweet niece. I know the sins in your mind, your desires..."

Shaking the head, you sniveled. "You do not know me, uncle. You are insane, dirty... Wicked."

Such accusations had a bitter taste, like holy whispers and mockery. Oh... He was all of that. All of that and much more, he already knew that. You already knew that too.

"We are both the same, dear. The difference between me and you, is that I do not regret my sins. However, you forced yourself to be devoted to the Seven because you are afraid of their punishment." Your cheekbone was caressed by Gwayne's hand. He wiped away some of the tears that flowed there, and then ran his fingertips over his own injured thigh, spreading the blood onto the skin and pushing his digits into your half-open mouth. "You are fucking stupid, niece. Believing that the Gods are merciful..."

Gwayne rambled and fucked your throat with his fingers at the same time, thrusting them so deep that spit began to drip from your mouth, the churning sensation inside your stomach returning and almost causing you vomit in front of him, to make the humiliating sight worse. As much as you wanted to keep fighting or just run away from him, you remained still, crying and kneeling on the ground, feeling the taste of his blood on your tongue.

Your eyelids were tightened, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to think about what he was saying, even if it was impossible. "Do you think I messed up your reputation? Do you think I forced you to taste sin and then used it against you? I SAVED YOUR LIFE, YOU UNGRATEFUL SLUT!" His yelling was followed by your muffled cry as you felt like you were going to throw up, his fingers bruising the back of your throat until your uvula was too sore. Gwayne removed his hand from inside your lips, your dripping spit running down his skin and dripping onto the floor, as did the tears, your body lowered and shaking to collect yourself.

"I saved you..." Gwayne repeated, softer this time, letting go of your hair and placing a few inches of distance between the two of you, your pitiful form curled up on the floor. "You had such a potential. You did not deserve to spend years serving Gods who do not care about our suffering." He did not even order you to look at him, but you did anyway, reddish and swollen lips, stained with his blood along with yours. "Gods are not merciful, sweetheart. If they were, Jaehaerys would not be dead. Helaena would not be broken-minded..."

"This is my fault..." You managed to mutter, voice hoarse due to the wound on your throat and on the roof of your mouth. "If I had understood the importance of the Faith of the Seven sooner... If I had not pleasure myself at the Great Sept, perhaps our family..."

"Do not be pathetic." Gwayne interrupted his niece roughly, despite his pious face. "Merciful Gods would not cause so much chaos and destruction in an entire family just because a little girl fingered her own cunt at a sacred place instead of being lighting candles and praying."

Suddenly, choking and almost throwing up on his fingers seemed like the least shameful thing during that entire night. "That... That was a blasphemy."

Gwayne smiled after your self-critical argument, a wistful smile. His imposing figure finally relaxed the tense shoulders, ignoring his own nakedness and carefully lifting you off the ground. He made a mental note to never forget how beautiful you looked there on the floor, as if he was your favorite God, or the only one, and you were begging for his mercy. As if he were your savior, the only one capable of freeing you from that torment and cruel fate that awaited you.

He wanted to be yours. He wanted you to be his. Gwayne wanted all of the Seven Gods to see him taking your maidenhead, fucking you until you were dripping with his seed. He wanted everyone to know that you were devoted to him, not to a stupid faith that condemned you to unnecessary purity.

All of the Hightowers already had their fates sealed. Gwayne knew that he could die fighting during the Dance of the Dragons, just as he knew that you could also die due to the wrong actions that your family and the other Targaryens had taken over all those years. Every manipulation, every fight, every cruel decision, every exaggerated and impulsive reaction...

Gwayne did not care if what he was doing was wrong before the Seven or not. He did not care if his sister found out about this or not. He understood what you wanted. He understood what you needed. He was already aware of the potential you had in favoring your own carnal desires instead of surrendering to divine forgiveness.

Gwayne would not let you surrender again. He would not let you be like his own mother or Alicent, always lighting candles and begging for the mercy and kindness of the Gods.

And when Gwayne's hand finally touched your throbbing neglected clit covered by the dress, both of you knew there was no going back. The Seven would never forgive those sins.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Thank you for writing such good breeding kink. 🫡 This war needs good soldiers like you. Raphael and Haarlep breeding is my actual kryptonite.

Bred By The Incubus & Devil

-Separate Stories-

Haarlep x f!Tav/Reader - Raphael x f!Tav/Reader

18+

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: You are so so so welcome!!! Thank you for the love and support you beautiful babe!!! I’m happy to provide!! And because we are both weak when it comes to Raphael & Haarlep breeding I wish to bestow this gift to you!!! xoxo have a beautiful day/night!!! I hope you enjoy xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Creampie | Breeding | Lactation | Pregnancy | Possessive

⋆˙⟡♡ Raphael ♡⟡˙⋆

“Mmmm, Raphael?” You whispered, “My devil, I’m achy again.”

Your pregnancy was the result of his desire, his deliberate act of claiming you, breeding you until your form swelled with the successor he sired. The early arrival of your milk, too, unfolded by his command, for he would lavish attention upon you, coaxing the initial droplets into constant flows that ensured your thoughts were filled only with him, marking you unmistakably as his own.

Your hand drifted to one of your hard nipples, your breast so swollen it was already starting to leak. You whimpered quietly to yourself before nudging Raphael softly, “my king~” and he began to stir. You bit your lip while watching him, his hair disheveled, his brows furrowed, he was so beautiful like this, and it was a sight only for your eyes.

You leaned into his warmth, pressing a kiss against his collarbone and then the base of his neck, his scent so thick here. Your hips rocked slightly against his thigh, your heat slickening his leg. 

You knew his cock was already hard, ever since you had given him the crown the thing always seemed to be hard when you were near him. It was like an unspoken instinct for him to fill you up with his seed, to make you round and fat with his child.

“Always such an eager little pup,” he teased, his voice still heavy with sleep. He moved without hurry, his movements precise and practiced as he pulled you on top of him, the way he liked you best.

It wasn't long before he was deep inside of you, filling you completely. You were still a little tight, but with your pregnancy and constant fucking, your body was quickly becoming accustomed to the intrusion.

You rocked back and forth, rolling your hips just the way he liked, the way that drove him absolutely wild. You gasped and moaned, his hand gripping your hips so tight they would certainly bruise later.

“Such an obedient mortal,” he said through gritted teeth.

You whimpered softly, his praise making you gush.

“Do you wish to cum, pup?” He asked, his voice teasingly soft.

You nodded, your hips never stopping their steady rhythm, “Ye-yes my l-love~ b-but my breasts~♡“ you panted and moaned.

He grinned, his smile devilish, “Please articulate your desires with grace. Should your request be presented with courtesy, I may be inclined to fulfill it, little mouse.”

You flushed a deep shade of red, the nickname he gave you only adding to the effect, his words were like fire on your skin, you could never get enough of them.

You took a breath, steadying yourself, before finally speaking, the words falling from your lips in a sweet song, like honey, “I- I wish for you to relieve me, my Archdevil~. I wish for you to taste the fruit of your labor, and drain the nectar from my breasts~.” Your cheeks were a deep red, embarrassed by the things he made you say.

Raphael smiled, he loved the way you submitted to him, the way you obeyed, the way you said what he wanted you to say. You were so perfect, so beautiful, and it was his will that you would remain by his side for eternity, his precious little mouse.

He had chosen you, after all.

He could have anyone, yet he chose you. Such a gift was not one to be taken lightly.

“Very well,” is all he said before you felt his tongue upon you, the flat of it gliding against the swollen skin, before his lips enclosed around the pert little bud. You moaned and writhed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your hips moving erratically. The feeling of instant relief and ecstasy overwhelming you. 

It was a taste Raphael would never grow tired of.

You tasted sweeter than the sweetest wine, better than any of the delicacies the world had to offer. His tongue swirled around your nipple, his mind drifting to the thoughts of impregnating you again after this child was born. Would you let him? You had no choice in the matter, he would take what he pleased, as he was entitled to do.

You were his and his alone.

You were his Queen.

His little mortal.

His precious, precious little mouse.

⋆˙⟡♡ Haarlep ♡⟡˙⋆

With Haarlep now accompanying you in Baldur's Gate, their presence by your side in public spaces became constant. The sight of strangers eyeing you as if you were available incensed them deeply. You belonged to Haarlep, solely theirs, and they were determined to make that clear to everyone in the city. If demonstrating their exclusive claim over you was what it took to deter prying eyes, then that was precisely what Haarlep would do...

Haarlep was relentless. 

“Beg, little dove-" they hiss, hauling your legs up so easily to your chest, “beg to be filled yet again~”

“Hgh~ Haarlep! P-pleeeease~ ♡” you whined, tears rolling down your cheeks. The stretch was always unbearable at first but gods did it feel good once you grew accustomed to it.

The strong grip they had on you was definitely enough to bruise where their fingertips dug into your soft flesh, “Nhh’~ M-more, please~ F-fill me with your thick, hot cum~ ♡ P-please, I need it~ I wan’ it- Hhhngh~"

"They stare at you with such hunger-," his thick thighs heavy on your body, “but their precious savior belongs to an incubus,” Haarlep smirked, “a vile creation that feeds off of her soul and pleasure-“ another snap of their hips, “Would they still stare at you with such preying eyes if they knew what was about to be growing within you I wonder~”

Your eyes widen, a fresh wave of arousal and excitement washing over you. 

"I'll make sure the whole city knows whose precious hole this is," the incubus hissed, a low chuckle in their throat, “that their hero was defiled by a fiend, impregnated by a creature of the Abyss~ How delicious indeed~”

In all truth, there's so much of Haarlep’s cum in you already, that you were probably bloated by now- at least you felt like you were. Haarlep had never been inclined towards gentleness, only on rare occasions… This was not one of those rare moments. This was about their sense of ownership over you, and it had escalated to unprecedented levels… Especially after watching a halfling man eyeing you for far too long for their liking… 

Your little whines are enough to provoke a growl from the creature, sliding their stupidly large cock back into you, their thick body heavy against yours, “You are mine, my little dove~ Solely my hands have the right to claim you in such a manner, only I can elicit those cries of my name from you, hm?"

"M’yours~ All y-yours~" your hands reach out, gripping onto their biceps, trying to hold onto anything, trying to ground yourself.

Your body was shaking, the feeling of your cervix relentlessly fucked made you a whimpering mess, the only word you knew was their name, and even that was a struggle.

Your walls clench and cling to their thick, long cock when they pull back out before pushing in again, much faster, fucking their last load of cum into you again. The ring of cream around their cock and the wet, sloppy sound of their hips meeting yours was a filthy symphony.

Haarlep chuckled darkly, “You will look so radiant while bearing my offspring~"

It was a fantasy of yours, one you had only recently brought up with the creature .

"Hah- ah~ ♡!!” 

It was all so perfect. 

The sloppy sounds of your cunny being destroyed by an incubus, their threat- no, their promise to fill you with their  hot seed until you were swollen with their child- children, your body covered in sweat, tears, and bruises. It was the life you wanted, the life you craved after bringing them back with you.

"I want all the devils of the nine hells and all the mortals in this realm to know just who you belong to!”

They noticed how your eyes fluttered back at the mere idea of bearing their child. It was a fresh fantasy Haarlep harbored and was eager to realize… 

And so they did.

Again.

And again.

Three children later, your beauty and suitability for the incubus remained as impeccable as when they first made you theirs. Your abdomen, once again enlarged with another child they had sown within you, didn't diminish your allure.

Haarlep, with a smile at the vision of your curved abdomen, declared, “I will ensure that you always remember who reigns over you~”

[novaursa]

Fire and Gold (the consequences)

- Summary: Rhaegar chooses you over her. And Ceresi never forgives you for it.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Rhaegar Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: 3

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

- A/N: This is the last story for today.

The Great Hall of the Red Keep is silent, an oppressive stillness weighing on the air. Dread crackles like a storm about to break as King Aerys II Targaryen, known to many now as the Mad King, sits upon the Iron Throne. His fingers, thin and white as bone, drum restlessly on the armrests, the sound echoing through the chamber like the ticking of a clock counting down to catastrophe.

The hall is empty save for a few trusted guards and the towering presence of Tywin Lannister, who stands at the foot of the throne with his head held high, his face an inscrutable mask. It is a rare sight to see him without his customary calm, but even he knows the volatility of the man before him.

“You dared to think your lioness could strike my blood, my daughter, and there would be no retribution?” Aerys’ voice is soft, almost gentle, but it carries a terrible menace. The flames of the torches lining the walls flicker, casting shadows that seem to dance with the madness in his eyes. “Your precious daughter dared to lay hands upon my Y/N. My most beloved child.”

Tywin’s face remains impassive, though you can see the faintest tension in his jaw. “Your Grace, there must be some misunderstanding. Cersei—”

“Misunderstanding?” Aerys’ voice rises sharply, and he stands, the movement sudden and jerky. His robes billow around him like the wings of a dragon. “Do you take me for a fool, Tywin? My daughter returns from your encampment cut, shaken. My Y/N, who has never known such disgrace, such insult!”

Tywin’s green eyes meet the king’s blazing violet ones. “Your Grace, if there has been an offense, I assure you it was unintended. Cersei—”

Aerys’ laughter rings through the hall, a high, grating sound that sends a shiver down the spine of every man present. “Unintended, he says! The Hand of the King claims his daughter’s treachery was unintended. She openly shamed my daughter before the eyes of our people. Your daughter, who has been nothing but a viper in this court, tried to poison the hearts of our subjects against their rightful queen!”

The Mad King steps down from the throne, his gaze never leaving Tywin. The guards stiffen but do not move, knowing better than to interfere. “You think your children are safe because you are my Hand? Because you have served me well in the past?” He leans forward, eyes glittering with a wild light. “I am the King of the Seven Kingdoms, Tywin. I could order Cersei to be burned alive and no one would dare stop me. I could burn your golden boy Jaime as well, see how well your lions roar then.”

Tywin’s composure does not falter, but a muscle twitches in his cheek. “Your Grace, I beg you to consider—”

“Consider?” Aerys hisses, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “I have considered. You think yourself so high, Tywin. So far above us all, above your king. But you are nothing without me. Nothing! You swore to protect my family, to serve the realm. And now, your blood turns against mine.”

He straightens, drawing himself up to his full, regal height, his presence a blazing fury. “I strip you of your title as Hand of the King. You will leave this court immediately and take your poisonous brood with you.”

Tywin’s eyes narrow, the only sign of his anger. “Your Grace, I have served the realm faithfully for—”

Aerys cuts him off with a savage gesture. “For too long! Too long have you schemed and plotted under my nose. Did you think I would not notice, Tywin? That I would not see your ambition, your pride?” He leans forward, his face a mask of twisted rage. “I see everything. I know everything. And I will not have it.”

The King’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “If your daughter so much as breathes near my Y/N again, if she dares to touch a hair on her head, I will burn her alive. I will burn you all. The lions of Casterly Rock will be nothing but ash.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. Tywin stands there, a statue of marble and iron, the weight of the King’s words settling on his shoulders. But he does not bow, does not flinch.

“As you command, Your Grace,” Tywin finally says, his voice steady. “We will leave the capital at once.”

Aerys’ eyes gleam with triumph. “Good. Go back to your Rock, Tywin. And remember this day. Remember what happens when you think to cross a dragon.”

With that, he turns away, dismissing Tywin as if he were nothing more than a bothersome fly. The former Hand of the King bows, a shallow, mocking dip of his head, before turning on his heel and striding from the hall. His back is rigid, unyielding, but you can sense the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.

As the heavy doors close behind Tywin, Aerys slumps back onto the Iron Throne, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The madness in his eyes dims, replaced by a strange, almost childlike weariness. He leans his head back, staring up at the vaulted ceiling, a smile curling his lips.

“My daughter,” he murmurs to the empty hall. “No one will ever harm you. Not while I am king.”

But even as he speaks, you know that this is only the beginning. The wolves are circling, the lions crouched in the shadows, and the dragons? The dragons are restless, their flames licking at the bonds of peace that have held the realm together for so long.

And now, with Tywin Lannister cast down, those bonds threaten to shatter.

Storm’s End looms ahead, its ancient walls stark against the darkening sky. Tywin Lannister rides through the gates, his face as hard and unforgiving as the stone fortress that now houses his daughter. His entourage is small—just a handful of guards and his most trusted men. He has no intention of lingering here longer than necessary. He has come for one reason, and one reason alone.

As Tywin dismounts, his cold green eyes scan the courtyard. Servants scatter like frightened mice, aware of the tempest in his gaze. He strides purposefully toward the main hall, his boots striking the ground with a grim, unyielding rhythm. He does not slow his pace as the great doors swing open, revealing the grand chamber within.

Cersei stands at the center of the hall, her posture rigid, her face a mask of defiance and fear. She is dressed in her finest gown, a deep crimson that mirrors the color of Lannister pride, but the color does little to hide the trepidation in her eyes. She knows her father’s wrath is like a storm—merciless, relentless. And today, she is caught in its path.

“Father,” she greets him, her voice steady, though there is a tremor beneath it.

Tywin does not acknowledge her words. He looks past her, dismissing her greeting as if she were nothing more than a child who had disappointed him. His gaze sweeps the room and lands on Robert Baratheon, who lounges on his lord’s chair, a goblet of wine in hand. Robert’s eyes narrow as Tywin approaches, but there is no welcome in his expression.

“Lord Tywin,” Robert says, his voice slurring slightly. He shifts in his seat, a smirk playing at his lips. “Come to collect your troublesome daughter, have you?”

Tywin’s eyes, icy and penetrating, fix on Robert. “This matter does not concern you, Baratheon.” His voice is cold, precise, each word sharp as a dagger. “Leave us.”

Robert’s smirk falters. He glances at Cersei, who stands silent and still, and then back at Tywin. For a moment, he looks as if he might argue, but something in Tywin’s gaze—something deadly—makes him think better of it. He pushes himself up from his chair with a grunt and stumbles toward the door.

“Whatever,” he mutters, waving a hand dismissively. “Handle your family, Lannister. I’ve had enough of this.”

The doors close behind him with a heavy thud, and the hall falls into a silence so deep it seems to swallow every breath, every heartbeat.

Tywin turns his full attention to Cersei. The fury in his eyes is a burning, unyielding force, and she feels the weight of it like a physical blow. She straightens, lifting her chin, trying to summon her usual haughty confidence, but it feels brittle, fragile, in the face of his wrath.

“You dare,” Tywin begins, his voice a deadly whisper, “to jeopardize everything I have built, everything I have planned, for your petty pride? Do you have any idea what you have done?”

Cersei’s mouth opens, a protest ready on her lips, but Tywin’s hand lashes out, striking the table beside her with such force that she flinches. The sound echoes through the hall, a harsh, jarring noise that sets her nerves on edge.

“You drew dragon blood,” Tywin continues, his voice rising, each word a thunderclap. “Do you think that means nothing? Do you think you can strike at the heart of House Targaryen and there will be no consequences?”

“Father, I—”

“Silence!” His roar shakes the very walls, and she falls silent, her heart pounding in her chest. Never, not even in her childhood, has she seen him like this. The cold, controlled fury she is used to, but this—this is something else. This is rage stripped of all restraint, all reason.

“You have put our house in peril,” Tywin hisses, his eyes burning with a cold fire. “The Mad King threatened to burn you, Cersei. To burn Jaime. Do you think I will allow you to destroy everything I have worked for?”

Her defiance crumbles, the words she wants to say dying in her throat. “I—”

“You,” he spits, cutting her off, “are a foolish, reckless girl. You think yourself a queen, a lioness. But all you’ve done is make us vulnerable.” His voice drops to a dangerous whisper, every word enunciated with chilling clarity. “You forget yourself, Cersei. You forget your place. You forget that your actions reflect not only on you but on all of us.”

Her pride, her vanity, have always been her armor. But now, under the force of her father’s anger, it shatters. Tears sting her eyes, and she blinks them back, refusing to show that weakness. But he sees, of course. Tywin sees everything.

“You will not defy me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “You will remember who you are and what you owe this family. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father,” she whispers, hating the quiver in her voice, hating the way he makes her feel—small, insignificant.

Tywin’s gaze holds hers, his eyes as cold and unfeeling as the stone walls around them. “You will return to Casterly Rock. You will stay there until I say otherwise. You will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father,” she repeats, her voice barely audible.

“Good.” He steps back, the distance between them a chasm she cannot cross. “Remember, Cersei. The only reason you are still alive is because I will not allow House Lannister to be destroyed by your stupidity.”

She flinches at the harshness of his words, but she nods, holding her head high despite the tears that threaten to spill over. He looks at her one last time, his gaze filled with cold contempt, before turning and walking out of the hall, leaving her standing there, alone and broken.

The doors close behind him, and she sags against the table, her hands gripping the edge as if it is the only thing keeping her upright. She feels the rage burning inside her, mingling with the pain and humiliation. How dare he speak to her like that, treat her like a child?

But she knows, deep down, that her father is right. She has overstepped, has endangered everything. And now she will have to live with the consequences of her actions. She will have to endure the punishment he has decreed.

But as she stands there, trembling with the effort of holding herself together, she vows that one day, she will make them all pay. Tywin, Rhaegar, the Targaryen whore who has taken everything she wanted—one day, they will all suffer as she has suffered.

One day, the lioness will roar again.

The chamber is filled with the sweet scent of lavender and the faint, sterile tang of healing herbs. Soft light filters through the high windows, casting gentle shadows on the stone walls. You sit on the edge of the bed, the cold air brushing against your bare skin as Grand Maester Pycelle carefully unwinds the bandage from your side.

“Almost done, Your Grace,” Pycelle murmurs, his voice trembling slightly with age. He peers at the now-healed cut, his expression one of clinical detachment. “The wound has healed well, though the scar will remain.”

You nod, your eyes not on the maester but on Rhaegar. He stands nearby, his gaze locked on you with a mix of concern and anger that he has not yet managed to let go. His silver hair, caught in the afternoon light, seems almost ethereal, and his violet eyes soften as they meet yours.

“I should have been there,” he says, his voice low, filled with regret. He steps closer, his presence a comforting warmth against the chill in the room. “I should have protected you.”

You reach out, your fingers brushing his hand in a reassuring gesture. “You couldn’t have known, Rhaegar. Cersei’s malice was not your fault.”

Pycelle finishes his work, dabbing a final bit of ointment over the scarred flesh. “You must continue to rest, Princess,” he advises, though his eyes flick nervously between you and Rhaegar. “And avoid any strenuous activity.”

You nod absentmindedly, your attention still on Rhaegar. “Thank you, Grand Maester.”

Pycelle bows deeply and shuffles out of the room, leaving you alone with Rhaegar. He moves closer, his fingers gently tracing the scar that mars your skin, the touch as light as a feather. You can feel the anger simmering beneath his gentle exterior, the barely contained fury at what has been done to you.

“I hate that this happened to you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You should never have had to suffer such a thing.”

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes. “I’m still here, Rhaegar. A scar is just a mark. It doesn’t change who I am.”

“But it shouldn’t have happened at all.” His tone is fierce, and you open your eyes to see the torment etched in his features. “I failed you, Y/N. I let that woman hurt you.”

You shake your head, taking his hand in yours and pressing it to your lips. “You didn’t fail me. You saved me by standing with me, by being here now. You are my strength, Rhaegar.”

He exhales shakily, his forehead resting against yours. “I love you,” he breathes, the words a soft vow. “More than anything. More than life itself.”

You smile, your heart swelling with warmth despite the pain and the memories that linger. “And I love you. We’ve faced worse than this, haven’t we?”

His lips curve into a small, rueful smile. “We have.” He lifts your hand, his lips brushing across your knuckles. “But I swear, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I still draw breath.”

There’s a fierceness in his voice that sends a shiver down your spine, and you know he means every word. You pull him closer, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bury your face against his shoulder. His embrace is strong, protective, and you feel the tension in his body, the barely suppressed urge to take revenge for what has been done to you.

“I don’t care about the scar,” you murmur against his neck. “I’m just glad to be here with you.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze searching your face. “You are the strongest person I know,” he says softly, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair from your forehead. “Stronger than I could ever be.”

You smile, a quiet, private smile meant only for him. “I’m strong because I have you.”

His expression softens, the anger fading as he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s not the fierce passion that sometimes flares between you, but something deeper, a promise of love and devotion that will withstand any storm.

When he pulls away, his hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Rest now,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

You nod, feeling the exhaustion finally catching up with you. He helps you lie back, his hands gentle as he adjusts the blankets around you. His presence is a calming, steady anchor, and as your eyes drift shut, you know that whatever comes, whatever challenges you still have to face, you will not face them alone.

Rhaegar presses one last kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there, as if to imprint his love and protection onto your very skin. “Sleep, my love,” he whispers, his voice a soft caress. “I’ll guard your dreams.”

[drunk-person]

The party (Modern Au) P.2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: One of the most talked about gossips among the lower class servants in Kings Landing is the fact (or not) that Aemond Targaryen got involved with his cousin Y/n Targaryen when they were both teenagers. Mainly due to the fact that at the age of 17 she was sent to Old Town overnight. Some employees claim that Aemond was caught between her legs. Some say that, like her father, she had had a horrible fight with her uncle and uncle and was sent away. And other than that none of this happened, she just became interested in the course offered at the Old Town conservatory. But now five years later, Y/n Targaryen is back, and rumors haunt those who favor them.

This chapter is a part of a main story The gossip, you can find the previous chapter, summary and general tags by accessing the link.

Summary of the chapter: After five years of no contact, Y/n and Aemond meet again at Cece Lanister's birthday party, and the sparks can be seen from miles away.

Warnings of the chapter: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, fingering, Oral Sex, excessive teasing, breeding fetish (only at the end) no description for reader.

A/N: Want to listen to music while reading the chapter? Problem By Natalia Kills will definitely hit. Comments and suggestions are welcome 💕

Word count: 4.350

Cece Lanister's house was brightly lit outside and dark with flashing lights inside, it was filled with the highest class people in Westeros, and Y/n smiled sweetly as she entered the house attracting looks from all sides.

Her innocent and sweet smile didn't match at all with the short black dress with thin straps that she wore for the night, nor with the silver heels that made her legs even more beautiful than usual.

-Y/n! -Cece's voice came, walking towards her with a glass of gym in her hands, even more smiling than before. - You came!

-But of course. -She gave the girl a hug when she responded, and when she let go she handed her a golden package. - Happy birthday Cece.

-Thanks! - She replied, already opening Y/n's gift and smiled widely when she saw a gold bracelet with a ruby ​​lion pendant, and placed it on her arm at the same moment. - I loved it Y/n, and it matches my outfit!

-That's good, Cece... - Before she could say anything else, Cece pulled her through the crowd of people dancing around the large living room.

-Come on, let's get you something to drink.

Curious eyes followed her, and Y/n just smiled at everyone as was common for her, Cece guided her to a bar that had been set up close to the main staircase of the room. And after receiving a cup of Gym from Cece's hands, she distanced herself a little, going in the opposite direction, taking advantage of the fact that her friend had gone to receive more newcomers.

Y/n watched the party attentively, her eyes wandering from side to side in search of silver hair among other so common ones, the minutes passed and she still hadn't seen any sign of his presence. And just as she was beginning to think that going there had been a huge waste of time, she saw him. Stopping near the bar with his typical look of superiority observing the environment, clearly not happy with being there.

Bingo.

She felt her heart fail momentarily when she saw him after so long, her eyes watered a little and she quickly wiped them away. Aemond was even taller than before, which she thought would be impossible, his hair was also longer and tied back in a half ponytail. He was wearing black pants and a button-down shirt with a leather jacket over it, and Y/n lost her breath a little at the sight.

And after taking a breath, Y/n downed the last sip of Gym that was left in the glass and headed towards the bar again with a wide smile on her face.

❦❦❦

Aemond couldn't believe he was at that stupid party at that time. He would wait a few more minutes and leave as quickly as possible, Helaena had just left, nothing was keeping him there now. Maybe Floris, but he didn't care enough to make any kind of sacrifice for her, and certainly not enough to stay at a stupid birthday party.

Floris made a sign pointing to the stairs as she followed one of her friends upstairs and Aemond just rolled his eyes without paying much attention, while shaking the glass of drink in his hand. And it was then that his eyes went up to the room again and he saw her.

Walking towards him with confident steps and a sweet smile on her face. Aemond felt his whole body heat up the moment he laid eyes on her, Y/n looked even more beautiful than before. Her hair was longer and fell in cascades to frame her face, she wore a tiny black dress with high heels, and Aemond couldn't help but think that she had dressed like that on purpose to tease him.

The closer she got, the more he felt his blood boil under his skin, unable to take his eyes off her. And when she got to him and hugged him in front of everyone with that sweet smile, he thought he was going to explode.

-How long cousin. - The sweet voice caused goosebumps on his skin and tremors in places he didn't want to mention.

Aemond wanted to be strong enough, but her perfume invaded his nostrils and he couldn't help but breathe deeply in search of more of her scent as he hugged her back, trying his best not to pull her too much towards him.

-Really a long time. - He said with a restrained voice as the two let go of the hug.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed his indifference towards her. Aemond was never indifferent towards her. He was passionate, angry, fiery, hateful, but never indifferent. He could be indifferent to everything and everyone, but not to her.

-Did you miss me?

She looked at him with that sweet look that could fool anyone by making her look so good and innocent, but Aemond could see right through it. He could see the malice burning through her eyes, he could see the subtle bite on her bottom lip, he could see her slightly curving her left eyebrow as she stared at him. This could never end well.

-Because I missed you, every day. - She said, getting even closer to him, making Aemond's gaze fall on her breasts, which were certainly bigger, and on them the beautiful silver necklace with a heart-shaped sapphire as a pendant.

Y/n smiled when she noticed where Aemond's eyes had gone, staring at her cleavage as if he were going to devour her breasts right there. He wasn't so indifferent after all.

-I missed so much that look you have when you want me.- She whispered close to his ear amid the loud music.

-Don't talk about it in public. - Aemond growled at her tensely while Y/n kept smiling.

-He doesn't even look like the same guy who stuck his fingers in me in the middle of a dance floor in Harrenhall, and only didn't stick something else in because the party ended early. - She spoke softly while pouting, teasing him.

-Y/n. - Aemond growled her name between his teeth, sawing his hands into fists in an attempt not to drag her away.

-Okay, if you don't like showing off anymore, let's go somewhere more solitary. - She said, turning her back and walking towards the furthest coat closet on the other side of the room next to the door.

And he told himself he wouldn't follow, but he couldn't help it. It was as if he no longer had control over his own body, being guided exclusively by the swing of her hips. Y/n entered the closet and shortly after Aemond followed her, entering and closing the door behind him, facing her in the dark.

-Do you know the consequences of all this if it comes to light in the media? Besides the fact that it's wrong, we're cousins Y/n, my father and your father are brothers, we can't do this. Not anymore. - His voice was irritated while his eyes burned, making Y/n smile.

-My father and Laena are cousins ​​too. - She rolled her eyes using a statement that Aemond himself had made a few years ago.

-Y/n that's wrong and you know it. We both know, we are adults now.

-And what about the things we did together? And all the dirty things you said to me? And when you came into my room in the middle of the night after fighting with Aegon and I let you do what you wanted with me? - She spoke ironically with arched eyebrows. - It didn't feel wrong at all when you were practically begging to be between my legs.

-We shouldn't have done those things. - Aemond spoke while staring at her lips and Y/n pouted when she heard him say that, Aemond bit his own lip at her gesture and then spoke slowly, holding his breath, as if the mere act of breathing in her presence hurt him.

- It was all wrong, a perversion.

-Are you repeating everything your mother says now? -She asked laughing as she looked at him.

- So answer me Aemond, if all this is so wrong and dirty, why did you come after me?

Aemond had no response and Y/n knew why. She then approached Aemond, leaving her lips close to his ear, almost brushing him.

-I didn't let anyone put their hands on my body Aem. - She practically purred. - Not even once. Only your hands have touched me. But since you don't want me anymore, then I'll look for someone who does, because it's been so long and I'm so needy. -At this point she was almost rubbing her own body against his while she spoke in his ear.

Aemond lost his temper. He grabbed her by the sides of her head tangling his hands through the strands of her hair, his fingers against her chin pressing firmly as he looked into her eyes with his own gaze burning in fury at the idea of ​​someone else touching what was always his.

And unable to contain himself, he pushed her against the door and kissed her roughly, taking her lips on his in the way he had wanted to do for the last five years. The kiss was wet and angry and they both bit each other's lips hungrily. Y/n pushed his jacket off his shoulders and Aemond let it fall to the floor, still kissing her lips furiously.

He ran his hands down Y/n's body, squeezing every curve again, every place he knew made her crazy with desire. And she released him from the kiss, sighing and throwing her head against the door when she felt his demanding touch pulling her more and more towards him.

-Always such a wanton whore to me, aren't you? - He asked, biting her earlobe, and Y/n agreed, nodding her head eagerly.

Aemond's head was spinning, and the only thing he knew at that moment was that he wanted her. And with that thought he kissed down Y/n's neck and shoulders until he reached the neckline of the black dress she wore. He pulled the straps down releasing her breasts to him, and Aemond automatically sighed at the sight.

-They're bigger. - He said, extending his hands and caressing them as if he missed them.

-Five years. -She moaned when she felt his mouth on her breasts and Aemond smiled as he sucked her right breast and squeezed the left one with his hand.

-They're still perfect. - He hissed as he moved his mouth to her left breast and sucked it too, making Y/n sigh and pull his hair making a mess.

Aemond then guided his left hand between Y/n's legs, moving her panties to the side and extending his fingers towards her intimacy.

-Always so wet for me. - He moaned against her breasts, sucking and nibbling them hungrily.

-Just for you Aemond. - She squirmed against his fingers.

-Damn. - Aemond cursed as he inserted two fingers into her heat. - So tight.

He then dragged her arousal further up and caressed Y/n's bud slowly as he admired the expressions of pleasure on her face. Little by little he increased the speed, just as he knew she liked, and she softly moaned his name as she whimpered needily, pulling him closer and closer.

-Aemond, inside please.

And he turned his hand down, sticking two fingers inside her while he continued stroking her clitoris with his palm, and Y/n screamed softly in his ear as she squirmed. He could feel her walls compressing against his fingers, he could feel her spasms against his palm and when she came almost collapsing against him, Aemond kissed her again and bit the lipstick-red lips still caressing her in the midst of her climax.

Aemond practically ripped the zipper off his pants and then pulled them down as he roughly lifted Y/n's dress up to her waist leaving it stuck there. And without warning, he pulled her legs up by his thighs and roughly invaded her while he moaned with his head buried in her neck. Y/n threw her head against the door and clung tightly to Aemond as she whimpered.

-It's bigger. - She moaned against his ear and Aemond laughed lightly.

-Five years.

-Idiot..

He didn't let her finish as he began to fuck her brutally, squeezing her thighs and hips as if her life depended on it. The loud music outside drowned out the noises of pleasure they both were making and the wet sounds that came from the act. Aemond bit Y/n's neck and her breasts, leaving love marks everywhere, and she scratched his back, pulling him closer and closer to her while she bit and kissed her jaw and neck.

-More more. - She begged him.

-Fuck, love, I won't last long, it's been so long. - He sighed, biting her ear.

-Okay, I'm almost there. - She said, tangling her hands in his hair and pulling him into an animalistic kiss.

Aemond moved trying to alter her position a little and then penetrated her again and Y/n had to bite his shoulder when he hit that perfect spot inside her that made her see stars. The older man smiled victoriously and picked up speed again while Y/n restrained herself from screaming, he felt her pussy twitching against his dick and he moaned uncontrollably against her lips, and once again he lowered his lips to her breasts and He started sucking them greedily.

Y/n was so close, she could feel the pressure in her belly pulling her down, the uncontrollable tremors, her legs pressing more and more against Aemond's narrow hips.

- Aemond, please. - Y/n sighed and he squinted his eyes when he heard the sound. - Cum inside me, I want to feel you so much, I miss you so much. - She begged in his ear, and Aemond exploded inside her, making her come soon after with the sensation of Aemond's essence spreading inside her.

Aemond writhed with pleasure, her pussy was milking him firmly and he thought he could die at that moment, because if he died with his cock buried in that delicious pussy he would die happy.

The two were panting against each other, still holding each other, Y/n still with her legs firmly crossed against Aemond's back. He slowly released her, and recovering his rhythmic breathing, Aemond gently pulled her legs from her back, lowering her back to the floor and took a step back, admiring her, while Y/n tried to stay standing with her wobbly legs.

And when Aemond looked at her he couldn't help but sigh. Y/n was standing against the door, her hair was a mess, her makeup was all smeared, her neck and breasts were covered in red marks. Her dress was gathered at her waist and her breasts were exposed, with her erect nipples rising and falling with her still irregular breathing. The panties still on were stuck between her crotch and thigh, leaving her pussy exposed with their mixed fluids leaking down between her thighs.

Y/n, realizing where his gaze had gone, took her right hand to her own intimacy and using her index and middle fingers, she rubbed Aemond's seed against herself, moaning his name in the process.

Aemond advanced on her again at the same moment and knelt on the wooden floor, pulling her panties down and putting them in the pocket of the jacket he had thrown on the floor. He then pulled her thighs, pinning them against him neck itself.

-What will you do? - She sighed even though she already had an idea, Aemond always loved sucking.

-Finish what I started that day. - He replied, then sucking her sensitive pussy greedily, making her scream his name without caring about the other guests at the party.

He continued sucking and kissing her as he felt her shudder and heard her screams and moans without caring if anyone else could hear. The music was very loud, and so was the noise of people, but at that point Aemond didn't know if he would care if it wasn't. He penetrated her spongy interior with his tongue and with the movements he made, his nose pressed against her clitoris in the exact way he knew drove her crazy.

-Aemond I can't. - She sighed.

-Another. - He begged against her intimacy. - Let me feel your taste, I missed your sweet taste so much. Let me taste you.

And when she heard him saying those words, Y/n came against Aemond's lips, contorting in pleasure with tears running down her cheeks. Aemond tasted her against his own tongue, groaning with contentment and absorbing every drop of her essence.

-Delicious. - He groaned finally, leaving a kiss on her sensitive button and she gasped at the feeling.

He stood up again and helped Y/n remain standing as she balanced herself against his body. Aemond readjusted the straps of the dress on her shoulders and lowered it again to cover her thighs. And then he picked up his own jacket from the floor and put it on again.

-I can't stay here like this. I look like…

-Fucked? - Aemond asked with a malicious smile.

-Very well fucked. - She purred at him, boosting Aemond's ego even more.

-Let's get out of here. - He said, already pulling her towards him and opening the closet door.

The two crossed the crowd of people dancing and shouting in the dark and quickly headed towards the door without saying goodbye to anyone.

❦❦❦

Aemond's apartment wasn't too far away, being in one of the city's privileged areas. The car ride there was short as the two talked and laughed.

-What is Aegon doing? - She asked laughing.

-Nothing, as usual. - Aemond laughed back, looking really only 23 years old now. - Our offices are on the same floor, he arrives after 12:00 pm and leaves at 4:00 pm.

-Typical Aegon. -She rolled her eyes, still amused, but suddenly becoming more interested as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. - But what about you? How's work? Have you reached the vice presidency yet?

Aemond smirked as he turned the steering wheel while making a left turn.

-I have a lot of work to do, and I think it's unlikely that anyone will be vice president at my age.

-Ah, but not you. - She smiled beautifully at him, making Aemond's hands tingle. - I think I can see you performing any role without any problems Aem.

-I'm the deputy director of technology. - He smiled looking at her sideways.

-I knew it, he's already vice-president of something, he never does anything halfway. -She rolled her eyes and Aemond murmured softly while he smiled sideways.

The car entered the building's parking lot and the two went towards the elevator, at a safe distance from each other, and when Aemond opened the door and the two stepped into the apartment he barely finished closing it before jumping on it again. , grabbing Y/n hungrily as if the two hadn't just been on top of each other.

-I thought that all of this was a mistake, and that we were both young and perverted. - Y/n spoke against his lips.

-Screw this. I do not care. I just want you, I just want your body. Let me have you again. - He said, already taking his hands to the hem of her dress and ripping it off over her head, leaving her naked in the middle of the living room, wearing only her silver high heels and the sapphire necklace.

-You can have me whenever you want, and however you want. - She said, pulling him by his hair for a slow and wet kiss. - You know that.

Aemond threw her over his shoulders and carried her towards the bedroom while Y/n screamed and laughed in his arms. He violently dropped her onto the bed while he ripped his own shirt over her head, looking at her naked with just those heels and the necklace lying on the bed looking at him while biting her lip.

-Seven hells how can you have become even more beautiful? - He said as he took off his pants ready to take her for himself, and then he noticed her thighs still with traces of his seed and a thought struck him.

-Are you taking contraceptives? - Aemond's voice was fearful as he remembered this question.

Y/n bit her lower lip with a mischievous smile, shaking her head as she removed her shoes and threw them on the floor. Her eyes shining with that malice that drove Aemond crazy, her hair falling wildly across her face, framing it, her naked body spread across the sheets.

Aemond really wanted to feel angry, he should have felt angry at the prospect of getting Y/n pregnant, but the only thing he felt was a twinge in his lower abdomen when he saw her deny it.

-Y/n. - He practically growled her name while staring at her without knowing if she was serious or not.

She knelt on the bed without bothering to cover Aemond's own nakedness and faced him smiling while she crossed her hands behind his neck and pulled him close to her.

-What's it? - She bit his ear. - Have you changed that much, Aem? - She asked in a sweet voice, looking up at him under her long eyelashes.

-I remember when you begged me to let you come inside me, asked me to plant your seed in my uterus. You said he didn't care if we were only 17, because you wanted to see me grow up with your son. That you didn't care about anything else because then everyone would know that I was only yours…

Y/n barely finished speaking when Aemond pulled her by the knees, knocking her back onto the bed and climbing over her.

-How can you be such a bitch? - He asked and without giving her the chance to respond he kissed her again passionately, biting her lips and sucking her tongue.

Aemond didn't give any warning, he just penetrated her, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes while he moaned with satisfaction at the feeling of her wet heat around him.

-Damn. You bring out the worst in me. - He moaned as he gave a strong thrust inside her, making her gasp and dig her nails into his back.

-I don't care, I like your worst. - She whimpered. - Give me more, be the worst it can be, I can take it.

And Aemond slapped her in the face, making her moan as she rolled against his cock. He pulled out of her, making her say his name in protest, but before he could say anything else he roughly turned her onto her stomach, throwing her against the sheets and penetrating her again without warning, making her scream with the new depth.

-All right? - He panted against her back.

-Yeah. - She sighed. - I want you so much, I missed you so much.

Aemond bit her back and thrust hard into her making Y/n gasp beautifully for him. He slapped her left ass cheek and fucked her hard right after, setting a brutal pace that made the bed creak beneath them as they both panted desperately.

-Whore. Always a greedy whore who doesn't know when to stop.

-I am. - She gasped with tears streaming down her face. - You whore, Aemond. Only yours. Please…

He gave her ass another slap making her gasp as more hot tears ran down her beautiful face.

-You will look so beautiful when you are carrying my child. And then you won't be able to pretend to be so sweet and good when you're in public, everyone will know that you let me fuck you and do whatever I wanted with your body. That you begged your own cousin to give you his seed. - His voice was crazy amidst the pleasure and the panting. Sweat dripped down Aemond's chest amid the thrusts.

-Imagine when it comes out in all the newspapers and magazines that you are pregnant and I am the father. No one will ever dare try to take you away from me again, you will be all mine forever. Even more beautiful than she already is carrying my children. - Possessiveness dripped from his lips with those words, and he squeezed her hips with such force that they would certainly leave marks the next morning.

Y/n cried with pleasure as she writhed beneath Aemond as she heard him saying such dirty things, her entire body went into a frenzy of uncontrolled pleasure, and the coil of growing pleasure in her lower abdomen exploded all at once as she she screamed Aemond's name amidst the pleasure, digging her nails into the sheets and pressing her face against the pillows.

-Imagine when the news reaches Old town. - He sighed evilly, fucking her during her orgasm. - That the very sweet Y/n who spent five years studying at the septa conservatory left her own cousin to fuck and get pregnant. Everyone will know, I will make sure that everyone knows that the baby that will grow in you is mine.

-Aemond. - She whimpered against the pillows. And he came deep inside her, leaving a bite on her right shoulder lost in the midst of the pleasure.

-Take all of me. - He panted while still inside her. - All for you.

And after that he collapsed on top of her exhausted with heavy breathing, he knew that Y/n was joking, since her favorite pastime was teasing him, but Aemond couldn't really care about the fact that she was possibly being serious and he actually getting pregnant at that moment. He then turned them on their side while still inside her hugging her from behind and buried his head in the crook of Y/n's neck feeling that delicious orange smell that he had missed so much, and finally slept completely peacefully after years.

And only the next morning did Aemond vaguely remember, Floris.

next chapter

tag list: @fan-goddess @afro-hispwriter

[akashis-waifu]

Excerpt from Beyond God and Evil (Aizen Sōsuke/Female Reader)

Continuation of An Eternity of Mind Games with You

Canon-divergence set months after TBYW. Reader is the new Soul King, so is Aizen if you squint hard enough. Your name is "Hana" for plot-purposes.

Tags: Romantic comedy, fluff and angst, enemies to old married couple, banter as love language, mutual pining, immortality, so good luck with the slow burn, Aizen is a menace but your menace <3

THAT NIGHT, in the Greater Soul King Palace, Aizen can be seen looking for you as you were not in your shared office nor in your personal quarters. He eventually finds you in the tearoom, reading a scroll while leisurely sitting on the tatami mat, near the window.

He stops himself from speaking, simply staring at you from a short distance away. You are already dressed in your usual nightwear — a white yukata so plain that it does not seem to befit a woman of your status. Nonetheless, with the gentle moonlight shining down upon your form and accentuating your regal yet serene features, the soothing breeze swaying your long, ivory strands in languid waves, the sight is incontestably ethereal — the image akin to a goddess in a painting.

Except that you are actually one. In every sense of the word.

After minutes of engrossed reading, you rise to return to the table when you finally notice Aizen standing in the doorway. He saunters towards you and stops in front of the low table, his eyes — that were previously appreciative — instantly narrowing in disdain upon sighting the poorly-written characters on the scattered papers.

“Can you, for the hundredth time, get off my case?” you groan while taking a seat.

He makes no retort and merely picks up your calligraphy brush and a blank paper, demonstrating how to write characters properly before handing the brush back to you.

“Like this. Do it again,” he commands, sounding like a stern teacher dealing with a wayward student. You repeat his strokes but the result is nowhere near satisfactory. You glance at him gingerly.

Although the displeased frown is ever-present on his face, he surprisingly does not insult you and simply sits beside you.

“Again.”

This time, he carefully guides your hand, pressing against your knuckles and fingers as he adjusts your grip. It is arguably an intimate gesture yet both of you pay it no mind, your entire focus on your calligraphy.

Strange enough, when he moves your hand along with his, you are able to write beautiful characters. But when left alone, your penmanship is almost comparable to that of a toddler. Hence, it is probably no exaggeration to claim that your innate inability to write legibly remains to be one of the greatest mysteries in the Three Realms.

Aizen observes your crestfallen expression. A mischievous idea suddenly crosses his mind, causing a smirk to spread across his face.

“Shall we make this more interesting? Every time you fail to write correctly, you will have to do one thing I want.”

You regard him with an look that screams you find his suggestion idiotic. “You must be out of your mind if you think I will ever agree to that.”

He leans closer to you, his grin widening in taunt. “Why? Do you have zero confidence in your own writing skills?”

“Your obvious provocation won't work on me.”

Aizen simply stares at you for a moment before leaning back with feigned nonchalance. “Shame. And here I was thinking of treating you to your favorite restaurant for the next decade should you win.”

Your ears instantly perk up at his offer. “Really?”

He barely stops himself from laughing derisively at your piqued interest. The way you fell for such an obvious bait, like a child who has been promised a treat, was downright pitiful.

“Do you accept the challe—?”

“Wait a minute,” you interject with a hand raised. “But your money technically comes from the Soul King Palace.”

“Which is my palace,” he argues with arms crossed over his chest. “Your point is?”

“It actually belongs to me but since I’m feeling particularly generous right now, I will share it with you,” you start rambling to buy yourself more time to consider his offer. “Anyway, your money is my money. Even if you say that you’ll treat me—”

“Hana. Do you want the unagi or not?”

Your mouth instantly shuts at his question and the way he called your name, sternly but also in a familiar manner. After a long moment of silent contemplation, you surrender with a sigh.

“Fine, but make it a millennium.”

He raises an eyebrow at your bold haggling. “Five decades.”

“Millennium.”

“A century.”

“A millennium, Aizen,” you declare with finality. “I refuse to play your game unless you agree.”

“Alright,” he relents. “I’ll treat you for the next one thousand years if you win.”

However, unbeknownst to you, the game is but a scheme, as per usual, to make you spend more time with him in the next decade — which you unknowingly extended to a millennium. Aizen smiles to himself, beyond pleased to witness you digging your own grave.

“Then, let the challenge begin.”

After handing you the brush and paper, he gives you the first character to write. You have never been so focused in your life as you are determined to win at all costs. However—

“Huh?” you mutter in disbelief as you stare at your own disastrous handwriting.

Aizen smirks, having seen your failure coming from a mile away. He already has an order in mind but feigns uncertainty to prolong your agony. His index finger drums the table, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm, shame. What should I make you do now?”

You watch him with narrowed eyes, already well-acquainted with his antics. “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”

“How about this?” he deliberately pauses for dramatic effect. “I want you to say ‘All hail Lord Aizen, the new Soul King of the Three Realms’ ten times.”

A deafening silence falls upon the room as you meet his taunting gaze with a bemused expression. When he shows no indication of changing his command, you unwillingly surrender but not without a catch.

“All hail Lord Aizen, the self-proclaimed new Soul King of the Three Realms,” you deadpan.

Obviously, Aizen is far from impressed. “If you refuse to adhere to the terms, you will not get that unagi even if you win.”

With your beloved meal held hostage, you grit your teeth in annoyance and reluctantly heed his order. The grimace on your face worsens as you watch his shit-eating grin widen with every repetition you make, his head nodding with purposeful slowness to further grate your nerves.

Once you’re finished, he praises you with a sarcastic applause. “Well done, Hana. I never knew you appreciated me that much.”

You hiss under your breath and impatiently pick up the brush, glaring down at the empty paper, determined to win the next challenge. However—

As Aizen has predicted, you still fail at your second attempt. And miserably at that.

Slamming your hands down onto the table, you stare at the paper with profound disbelief, eyeing the barely decipherable scribbles as if wanting to wipe them from existence. How is it even possible to be that bad at something that was supposedly easy to do?

At the realization that you lost to him again, you look down, refusing to meet his gaze due to humiliation.

Aizen only sighs before shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I’m starting to think that you’re losing on purpose so I can get to order you around.”

“Please shut your mouth and just get on with it,” you beseech almost pathetically.

Thus, without further ado, he declares:

“You have to sit in my lap for the rest of your calligraphy practice.”

[myslutwritings]

Playing minecraft headcanons with the uppermoons (+Muzan & Enmu)

this will be a modern!AU (they’re still demons tho)

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(this is also my first post lmao)

Muzan

okay it takes a HELL ton of convincing to have Muzan himself play with you.

he views any sort of game as ‘dumb’ or ‘childish’

you try to remind him that it’s not in the slightest but it doesn’t do anything much (bro is stubborn)

he’s the demon king? why should he associate himself with the idiotic games mortals play?

eventually he goes give in (bc he loves you in his own weird demonic way..)

strictly on survival mode. doesn’t care what you do but he sees creative mode as a ‘easy way out’ and he wants to be a hard ass (no surprises here)

kills any mob in sight and any mob that comes near you (claims he does it because he’s the demon king and wants to overpower everything and everyone but in reality he just wants to look out for you)

loses his SHIT when he gets dies in the game (triggers his fear of death lol)

you made a joke about him being like the mobs in minecraft because they burn in the sunlight (like him)

he doesn’t play with you after that but he secretly enjoyed spending time with you! (shh, you’ll never hear it from him)

Kokushibo

doesn’t take too much convincing (thank god)

he lowkey enjoys trying out new things with you! you’ve always done everything for him so the least he can do is return the favor.

probably doesn’t really understand it at first so you gotta explain the game to him

gets frustrated easily in the game but it’s more of a silent rage. you take notice of it because his body language changes so it’s not exactly difficult to spot.

like muzan he’ll kill anything that goes near you. (he’s protective even in the game)

most likely will envy your game abilities. (it’s okay you’ll teach him!)

you find it cute that he’s so serious about it sometimes

The both of y’all share jobs in the game and end up creating a lovely little house!

spoiler alert he burns it down after he finds out you can burn things in the game. he did it for no reason whatsoever.

you don’t really mind all that much though. you’re just grateful you got to play with him!

Douma

douma loves and i mean LOVES playing with you!!

this man is bored. (like all the time) so doing something like this will definitely keep him occupied! but he may grow bored quickly because that’s just how he is.

he still adores playing with you though and wants to do it again!

he’ll praise you for how great you are at the game. literally head over heals for you<33

the type of mf to pick up a flower (specifically a rose) and drop it at your feet in the game.

pouts like a toddler when you don’t notice it:((

“Y/N?! didn’t you see the flower i dropped right in front of you!”

he’s clingy even in the game and will follow you around EVERYWHERE.

he is jealous of your building skills and begs you to build him a house💀

Douma’s fav biome is probably the ice plains spikes biome. anything that has to do with snow or ice!

he too also gets frustrated in the game sometimes and SUCKS at hiding it. he doesn’t have outbursts though (surprisingly)

most likely will rizz you up even in the fucking game😭

then after like a few hours of playing he gets bored and either wants to eat (women) or cuddle with you. (maybe both)

Akaza

Akaza is the most interesting to play with out of them all (because he’s just so goofy when playing)

the only thing that’s annoying is that he’ll chase danger quite literally for fun. he will fight anything. I MEAN ANYTHING.

i pity the mobs who (tried) to attack you..

game rage? it’s in his veins. (it’s semi-amusing to witness him get pissed off)

make sure he doesn’t punch a hole in your TV or your computer (whatever you play on) that shits expensive.

like during his battles bro uses only his fists to kill everything. weapons? nah. pro is anti-weapons. uses his fists for quite literally everything and will throw a fit when he dies.

he’ll praise you whenever you kill anything though! (he’s a sweetheart like that)

he’s like a guard dog even in the silly game. (over protective is an understatement)

he attempts to build you a house (it isn’t too horrible, surprisingly)

one time when the two of you were mining deep within the caves for diamonds Akaza found some and broke/mined it with his fist. (you got so pissed)

he apologized and found you some new ones though! thankfully, he didn’t use his fists to break the block this time.

overall, Akaza really does enjoy playing with you! he grows fond of it and now playing minecraft with him is one of y’all’s favorite things to do together<33

Hantengu Clones

(i’m writing the four of them all together because i’m lazy)

want to know what’s more than chaotic? playing some challenging game with 4 very emotional demons.

At first Sekido immediately rejects the idea of playing the game with you and his three other brothers (the hantengu clones are brothers in this AU)

After a shit ton of persistent begging from you and Karaku and Urogi he only submits in the end and plays (mostly because of you)

Karaku and Urogi literally are beefing the entire time (Sekido’s rage is at it’s boiling point because of those two jackasses)

Aizetsu cries like a baby whenever he accidentally kills anything (except for the mobs)

whenever he sees a mob his scaredy-cat ass sprints away in the opposite direction.

Urogi and Karaku bully him RELENTLESSLY for this. (Aizetsu is a victim)

Urogi is the type to secretly go into creative mode grab a shit tone of diamonds or netherite and is like; “Heyy, lookie what i found!!”

no one falls for his bullishit.

they all protect you in the game and show off in front of you. (it’s embarrassing)

Karaku is surprisingly good at the game but like Akaza he’ll chase danger for fun.

Aizetsu only feels safe around you so he’ll follow you around and cling to you in the game so his two brothers stop harassing him.

Sekido only plays for a few minutes before getting aggravated and just abandoning the game as a whole.

(he is the type to punch everyone playing the game. even you sometimes but Karaku and Urogi mostly fall victim to his attacks)

Sekido surprisingly leaves Aizetsu alone.

the five of you try to create a world where it’s just peaceful (Keep on dreaming, kid. that ain’t happening)

everything goes downhill, half of the world is ENTIRELY demolished and all of you died over 1000 times.

playing with all of them is too chaotic. you can’t really take it seriously. You only can when you’re playing with one of the clones one on one.

y’all didn’t play again after that madness. 😭

Gyutaro

now Gyutaro here is the only chill one to play with. (finally a normal one)

like Kokushibo, it doesn’t take that much convincing! in fact, he agrees to it almost immediately.

at first he is confused and doesn’t understand how to play minecraft but he is a quick learner and figures it out on his own.

Gyutaro doesn’t have a preference for survival or creative mode. He just does whatever you want.

Whenever y’all play in a survival world you two share tasks and duties and actually create a pretty decent looking world!

he still has your back though. Will kill any mobs that interfere with his little home he created with you.

he enjoys building houses and is surprisingly really amazing at it! he finds comfort in building.

however, whenever you, Daki and Gyutaro all play together it’s mostly him and Daki arguing and being all competitive. It’s mostly Daki’s fault because she’s the cause for half of the mayhem that happens in the world.

sometimes Gyutaro plays even without you. (he grew fond of the game quickly and likes the game)

the both of you play together everyday and go onto the same world every time because y’all created a beautiful old-fashioned city on there. (he cherishes it immensely and is insanely proud of the masterpiece of a world the two of you made as a team)

Daki

Daki is infuriatingly annoying but also entertaining to play with at the same time.

she is a giant rage quitter like Sekido and Akaza.

throws tantrums frequently over the smallest things that go wrong in the game.

she will be jealous of any item you get that’s better than hers.

this lil shit steals everything you earn that’s better than what she has. (you notice every time)

you confront her about it and she has the audacity to lie. (like girl yk damn well)

you end up taking your stuff back and she will BATTLE you for it. (you win these matches every time. that alone only adds to her angered state😭)

she will deliberately quit whenever something doesn’t go her way but later come back and declares she wants to try again.

it’s like a endless loop because this happens every. single. time.

(she’s such a brat istg)

will always steal your diamonds and put them in her chest and say she found them first.

while you’re asleep she will secretly go into the world and take all your shit and you’ll wake up back at square one.

(lowkey you want to stop playing with her)

y’all barely even work as a team but when y’all it’s always ha fight (mostly her fault btw)

once she notices your frustrations. She’ll level it down for you so no need to worry! (this earns your respect)

but whenever y’all are in creative mode shes so much more fun and enjoyable to play with!

you two usually build big ass mansions together and with y’all’s godly building skills you two make an incredible looking house and live in it together!

Enmu

Enmu absolutely looooves doing everything with you! he says yes immediately when you ask him to play with you.

after all he’s your personal simp. this fucker will gladly do whatever you say w/o any hesitation.

Enmu has actually heard of the game ‘minecraft’ before but never actually played it and barely knew what it was really about.

oh boy, but when he does he becomes OBSESSED.

I kinda feel like he dislikes survival mode and prefers to be in creative mode! but if you like survival mode he won’t mind trying it out with you.

he likes killing the animals for fun.. will randomly slaughter anything even if it has a family (bro is a sadist after all)

you tell him it’s not necessary to be doing that but he doesn’t care nor listen.

his love language is building you trains in the game. (you love them very much)

Enmu is usually very calm when he’s not on a mission so playing this game only soothes him further and he doesn’t act overly crazy and zesty like he usually does around Muzan

Builds trains every time y’all play and is somehow INSANELY skilled when building them (??)

Similar to douma, he’s the type to rizz you up in the game.

Sulks when you don’t notice him when he attempts to.

He constantly nags you to play with him some more and gets a lil upset when you become tired.

“Oh, Y/N!, how can you be tired? we’re having soooo much fun!!”

forces you to stay up just so he can introduce you his own train world he made for himself. (he named all the trains)

you’re out cold after playing with him every time. High key finds it adorable when you pass out after hours of playing with him. He’s so amused how humans can grow tired so easily.

[noirandchocolate]

It's the winner of my poll, so I hope you'll enjoy a nice big post about...

Yiga Clan Mask Culture and Traditions Headcanons!

History

The Clan adopted the practice of wearing masks fairly early on after their founding 10,000 years ago. Veils were already worn by powerful Sheikah monks as a symbol of martial prowess (being able to fight with hampered or absent sight), wisdom (being able to "see" what others could not, despite or because of a self-imposed "blindness"), and asceticism (being humble and near-anonymous). Those among the ancient Sheikah who worked as assassins, spies, guardians, and interrogators for the Crown also tended to wear masks covering at least part of the face. So, when the Sheikah who decided to defy the ancient King's genocide banded together to form the Yiga Clan, taking to wearing masks and veils to obscure their identities was a natural choice. The early Clan's face-coverings were among the first items they painted with the Inverted Eye that became the symbol of the group's defiance of their prior role as Hylia's chosen protectors and servants of the royal family.

The original Master Kohga, who had been the Chief of the Sheikah settlements around Satori Mountain, never actually wore a mask! (The practice of doing so had not fully standardized yet.) Instead, he took up wearing a veil to honor his grandfather, Monk Mogg Latan, and as a sign to those who would ask him and his people to shed their heritage, that he would not back down.

However, the First Master did provide the origin to one aspect of his successors' masks: While Sheikah who were considered masters in their chosen fields (including monks) traditionally wore a hairstyle featuring five long ornamental sticks, the First Master chose to wear six, as a symbol of a) his people's split from the Royal Family (cut an arrayed set of five sticks straight in half and you end up with six sticks--the formerly central one broken down the middle), and b) their continued claim to the power associated with the number three (note that the Sheikah monks found in Shrines (and Maz Koshia) all wear/display six golden bracelets). As you know, the current Master mask now features three horns on each side!

As time went on, in addition to providing protection and anonymity to Clan members particularly when traveling outside their main "hideout" base in Karusa Valley, the masks also became a unifying aspect of membership and family within the group. In other words, the masks are not only meant to hide one's face from outsiders, but to signal to insiders the bond between them. All within the Clan may don the mask, all may wear the same "face." All carry the symbol of the Inverted Eye. All are working together, all are playing their part. The Clan as a whole is quite a collectivist culture; the masks are one very obvious aspect of that.

The current mask designs have been in place for several millennia now, but it did take some time for the style to "settle" into this level of tradition and immutability. The Yiga have quite ancient scrolls and artworks depicting their ancestors wearing different styles of masks, including curved rectangular ones mimicking the shape of ancient monks' veils, and more complicated and demonic or deity-looking masks for Masters. During one period a few centuries into the Clan's existence, another Hylian monarch (this time, a Queen) sent troops across the kingdom to search for any remaining Sheikah (remember, Kakariko Village was "hidden" to most) to eradicate them. The Yiga began to appear "out of nowhere" to wreak havoc and sow discord among scouts and military camps, wearing masks painted with the inverted eye and large, red, smiling mouths. Quite unsettling!

How They're Made and How They Work

Masks are crafted of wood and, in the case only of the Master, an overlay of molduga bone. All those taking up the job of craft-work among the Yiga learn to make masks, but there have always been a few specially trained masters of the art who create masks and associated ornaments for the Master, Right Hand, presumptive Heir, and any spouse (Mistress or Consort) of the Master. These in particular are expected to be perfect, both in their specially-measured fit to the wearer's face and in their symmetry of shape and inlaid, painted design. And so, training to make them goes beyond the ordinary mask-maker's education, involving a great deal of practice but also meditation. A keen eye for detail and steady hands are paramount. These crafting masters are highly regarded, and often take on new names related in some way to their teachers', when they achieve their new position.

Yes, the masks are solid wood. Yiga are able to see "through" them using magic. The vast majority of current Clan members share a heritage that allows them to use magic (a subject for another post!) at least to some degree, and this Sight skill is one of the very first things Yiga are taught--whether as young children or as new additions if they join as teens or adults. As with many Yiga abilities (again, to be discussed in the future!), Sight has an accompanying rune/talisman that will keep it going perpetually. This is etched into an "active" mask when it is given to its owner. So, the owner puts on the mask, instantly starts the...for lack of a better word "spell," and then the rune keeps the ability "flowing" for as long as the user wishes.

Those vanishingly few Clan members who are completely devoid of magical ability must ask someone else to activate the rune for them. Unfortunately, their Sight through their masks is impaired by the fact that none of their own energy is being used to power the rune as it "flows." Such members do not take on/are not assigned to roles that will take them outside the Karusa Complex, as masks are absolutely required for such positions. Instead, they stay home, usually wear veils instead, and work within the Clan in other vital ways.

Current Designs

All Yiga masks save those for the Master and Right Hand share the same basic curved oval shape that contours around to cover the sides of the face, again for anonymity and conformity. Really the only difference about those two, too, is the addition of horns. All masks are marked with the Inverted Eye.

One other slightly different mask is that worn by the Heir, which is additionally marked by a curved slash of red down the sides of the face (most prominently visible in profile). This marks the Heir as one who is working to grow into leadership and one day wear a horned mask.

The horns on the Master and Right Hand's masks have that curved shape because they are meant to not only be horns, but flames. As in, flames of righteous fury against those who betrayed the Clan's ancestors, and the purifying flames of destruction they've hoped would purge the Kingdom of its ruling class! The red inlay of them of course matches the red of the Eyes, but also symbolizes the burning core of the Clan's intended vengeance.

The Master has three horns per side, and the Right Hand has one, so perhaps you've wondered: is there a two-horned mask? Why yes! I headcanon that there is! It is reserved for a Right Hand who is also the Heir. Which is not a very rare occurrence, since a Master would likely hope to rely on their Heir as their second-in-command, once they're of age and they've proven themself to be reliable, skilled, and powerful enough. (Great training to be Master themself one day!) Our current Best Guy Kohga remembers this mask as the one his father wore during his early childhood before his Nana died and Dad became Master. Kohga himself was also eventually given the two-horned mask when he became his father's Right Hand.

He was very proud to wear it.

He did not get to wear it for long.

The metal side ornaments on Yiga masks are meant to resemble fangs, and are meant to add an edge of ferociousness to the Clan's appearance. Even members who are not actively working in more martial positions wear them--a style similar to Footsoldiers', but with the subtle difference that the center ridge of their three-ridged design is red, instead of the top one.

Footsoldiers' ornaments are straighter and dagger-like, evoking their prowess with smaller, more concealed weapons and bows. The top ridge colored red indicates that they are in a martial position and their work--and if necessary, their bloodshed--protects the more "civilian" population of the Karusa Complex.

Blademasters' ornaments are curved and sharper, a show of their ferocity with larger, well, blades. Although usually hidden by their hoods when in they're in full uniform, their ornaments do still feature the three ridges with the top one in red.

The Right Hand's ornaments share the basic shape of the Blademasters', but are segmented more smoothly down their whole length, with the final, sharp segment at the tip in red. These show that the Right Hand is at the top of the martial hierarchy of the Clan, at the forefront of the Clan's protection and ready to stain their weapons ("fangs") with the blood of their enemies.

Finally, Master Kohga's ornaments' more hooked shape are similarly meant to represent curved fangs, but the more rounded, shiny red end-pieces are meant to evoke skill not only with weapons but with the special arcane techniques only a Master is trained in. The larger, round, red center of their five-ridged design shows that Master Kohga is the central figure for the Clan--not just the Chief or "top banana," but someone who lives among their people and keeps them together. Powerful, deadly, but also a unifying force.

Traditions Surrounding Masks

As suggested above, Yiga children start wearing veils and practicing using the Sight technique pretty young, so they're prepared for donning their masks when the time comes. Kids officially get their first masks at the very start of the year during which they'll turn eleven. Depending on the Clan's birth rate for a particular year there might be only a few getting masks or there might be a big group. Getting one's mask involves...

A trip to Satori Mountain with Master Kohga! The Mountain being a very important place for the Clan, it has been chosen for the children's (usually) first time leaving the relative safety of Karusa Valley. The Master takes them to the sacred spring among the sakura trees near the top, where they remove their veils and put on their first masks. This ceremonial part of the trip is fairly short, and involves a pledge to stay safe beneath the mask and to work to the best of one's ability for the Clan. Then, the kids get to have some fun exploring, doing some fun little tasks set by the Master--things like "pick four different kinds of mushroom" or "find the tree marked with the Eye." This is meant to give the children not only a chance to practice using Sight out in the open, but the opportunity to get to know the Mountain...and...well, to run around being kids rolling in grass and climbing trees, out in the world under the sky, using the basic tracking and stealth skills they've been learning through their childhoods. (This is truly another of the current Kohga's favorite days of the year. Man loves the kiddos.)

Once you've received your mask, you're also considered old enough to start doing more involved chores around the Complex and figuring out what jobs and roles you might want to start really training for. So it's a Coming of Age kind of event! Children's mask ornaments are again the same as footsoldiers' and civilians', but they have the lowest ridge painted red. Under the protection of everyone else. They'll have these until they turn sixteen--another milestone.

Clan members are expected to keep their faces covered or disguised even at home, once they have been given their first masks. I've said it before but it belongs in a post on this topic: one's true face is, after that age, reserved for one's very immediate family. Parents, grandparents, siblings, spouse, and kids/grandkids. So, when a child goes up Satori Mountain at the start of their special year, the moment between when they take off their veil and when they put on their mask may be the last time they see the real faces of their friends with whom they share an age. Honestly, it's quite poignant, a sort of shedding of one's childhood self and taking on of a new identity among the Clan.

After death, a person's final mask is kept for their family's area down in the Clan's ancestor shrine halls. Masks are cared for by family members as part of specific festivals and are brought out for various events like weddings and funerary rites within the family. Since so much of a person's energy flows through their mask over the time they wear it, it's believed to still carry a part of their essence. So it's felt that ancestors are especially "present" and watching over you, when you visit your family shrine, or when their masks are made a part of your special days.

Yiga masks are quite tough, and broken and outgrown ones are burned at home. Those who are assigned to jobs and missions outside the Valley must be adept at the disguise technique, but if one's mask is broken to the point it can no longer be worn and it is at all possible to break away from one's task, one is supposed to return home to retrieve a new one right away.

((Sooga's insistence on wearing his cracked mask is considered quite unusual and odd. It's honestly only permitted because he is the Right Hand and thus his horns and uniforms already make him stand out. He did have it reinforced and repainted after the incident. I gave his stated reasoning for keeping it in a prior post, but...it's also because he was initially ashamed at having broken the work of a master craftsman so shortly after he received it. To this day, years later, if pressed he will say that his mask is serviceable so there is no need to trouble anyone. Of course, now more than ever anyone would love to make him a new one, but...that's Sooga for you. T-T))

Married couples traditionally remove each other's masks on their wedding night, before shedding any remaining disguise. This is a profoundly intimate show of love and trust. Even within a marriage, consent must be given before taking off one's spouse's mask.

Once you turn sixteen, in fact, no one is allowed to remove your mask without your express permission. Even when you're disguised under there. That includes parents and romantic partners. It's considered incredibly rude and childish especially after that age, to grab at someone else's mask to try to remove it.

That said, poking at or rapping on someone's mask is just silly behavior between friends, and caressing a masked cheek is loving. Also, touching masked foreheads together is a gesture of closeness between family, friends, and partners. Especially with a romantic partner, it's like a masked kiss. Yes. It's true. Yiga bonk foreheads like kittycats. (/silly, not really)

Because Yiga tend to spend a lot of time with their faces--even their fake faces--covered up, as a culture they tend to be quite expressive with their bodies and vocal inflections. They don't have facial expressions to rely on for communication purposes all the time, so head-tilts and hand gestures and other body language are adopted from an early age to get one's point across. Of course this doesn't mean they don't know what facial expressions are and mean (don't be ridiculous)--they know those things too, for when they're using an unmasked disguise and for dealing with other races. Just...they tend to talk with their hands a lot and can tell another Yiga's intent or emotion by how far they're tilting their head or how they're leaning their body. In fact, not gesturing as much or using subtler postures is just as much considered "reserved" or "quiet" among the Yiga as simply keeping one's volume down. There's nuance in these things, that outsiders might not realize.

Yiga doing espionage have to sort of mitigate these instincts/learned behaviors; they can sometimes come off weird or unsettling, otherwise! Think of those travelers you may have seen on the roads...how they wave and call to you a little too enthusiastically, and smile just a bit too wide... But surely they're just friendly! You should go over to them and talk. If you're lucky, they might even sell you some bananas, at very fair prices!

And the last thing you see, will be the blood red of the Inverted Eye.

And there you have it! A whole bunch of headcanons about Masks! Hope you had a good time reading!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Imagine of Leonidas who found a child in middle of the woods, lost. Leonidas adopted Y/n. Y/n grown as beautiful woman when many years has pass by til her beauty caught Apollo attention. Leonidas is very overprotective of his daughter and never let Apollo go near her.

-He could remember the day he found you, all those years ago, you were only a baby, a few months old at least, abandoned in a forest, as he had been drawn to your cries.

-You were so little in his arms, cooing quietly up at him, now happy that someone was there, as you had been scared, being alone and he instantly fell in love you, adopted you as his own.

-His men didn’t know what to make of the sight, seeing their fearsome king and leader, smiling down at you as you were trying to walk to him, playing with you and being a totally doting and whipped dad to you.

-However, many were quick to learn that what they said was true, the dads with daughters are very intimidating, as Leonidas was fiercely protective, ready to even punch a child, a boy, who had been picking on you, much to the amusement of his men.

-You were not a delicate flower, despite your stunning looks, you were the daughter of one of the greatest Spartans to ever live! You were a warrior, being trained by your father himself, as he wanted you to be able to take care of yourself if he wasn’t there.

-You grew up protected, as your papa was the definition of protective, and his soldiers were all threatened to keep you safe if he wasn’t around, but you were able to defend yourself if needed.

-Not many believed you knew how to fight, you looked so angelic, like a delicate flower petal, graceful, soft, and your beauty was stunning to all who met you, men and women alike.

-So once you were old enough, Leonidas’ worst nightmare came true, where men were coming to ask for your hand in marriage. You set a stipulation for anyone wanting to ask you that question, that they had to ask your father first.

-He always said no.

-Many complained to you, claiming it wasn’t fair and some were even trying to turn you against your father. That didn’t work and you told them that if they had a problem with it, then to challenge Leonidas to a duel, if they managed to beat him, then he would give his blessing.

-You didn’t mind staying single, as you weren’t thinking about it at the moment and had no interest in being with someone who was only with you because you are pretty.

-You wanted someone who loved you for you. And that certainly wasn’t Apollo!

-The day that sun god saw you he was instantly enraptured, wanting you for his own, you were beyond perfect, you were so beautiful but so sweet, as he had seen you with some children, making flower crowns.

-As Apollo approached you to speak with you, like a demon of the shadows, Leonidas appeared between you in a plume of smoke, a fierce glare on his face, “You’re not going to approach my daughter, you bastard!”

-You turned, seeing a god and your father speaking and you could see that your father was extra grumpy with this man, before one of the children told you that this was Apollo!

-You nodded, now realizing why your papa was so pissy, now locked up with Apollo, both trying to make the other submit and you herded the children away from the area.

-Apollo wasn’t allowed to get close to you, if you left the house, you had to take several of his strongest warriors with you or take your papa with you.

-If you were with your guards, they just ushered you back home, keeping themselves between you an Apollo, but if you were with your father and he tried to approach, you heard the bell that signaled the start of a fight, and you walked off to sit until they finished.

-When Apollo finally was able to greet you, he grabbed your wrist, “You’re coming with me Y/N! I’ve been dealing with a lot from your bonehead of a father and you’re going to make it up to me!”

-He didn’t get farther than a few feet after you rocked his ass, punching him hard in the center of his face, sending him to the ground. He held his bleeding nose as you glared fiercely down at him, “Nobody touches me without my consent. Get lost you shithead!”

-Leonidas was beaming behind you as he had been running to defend you, little flowers of happiness surrounding him as he smiled, feeling so proud of you that you mimicked him while Apollo was stunned, seeing that you were just as strong as your father.

-He had to admit that he was impressed with your strength, as not many could put a god on his ass. If anything, your actions weren’t seen as disrespect, he came on too forcefully and you put him in his place!

-Leonidas couldn’t help but groan in annoyance as Apollo only seemed more infatuated with you! But hell to the no was he going to get you! Don’t worry Y/N!! Papa’s coming!!

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

King Magnus thinks his concubine looks the prettiest on your knees, lips wrapped around his massive cock, barely able to take him into your mouth. Tears trickling down your face due to the heat simmering off your body, cheeks puffy, chin coated in spit and pre-cum. You bob your head up and down, hands gripping his thighs, moaning around his cock.

"Are you enjoying yourself, my whore?" the king purrs, reaching a hand down to brush your tears away.

You hollow your cheeks in response, sucking hard. King Magnus groans, his head falling back on his shoulders. You love hearing his scratchy groans. How his thighs tighten and his hips tremble. He fights back on thrusting into your mouth, as he knows you enjoy taking your time with his cock. You smirk, rubbing your tongue against his frenulum.

His balls jump in response and he clenches his fist, moaning. "Oh, you filthy slut, you know exactly how to tease me."

You wrap your fingers around his thick girth and come off his cock with a wet pop. You stroke him long and slow, thumb pressed against the underside of his cock. "I like making you jump, my king," you say in a sultry tone, tapping his cock against your cheek. Beads of pre-cum land on your cheek and you chuckle, licking his tip. "Makes me feel good."

King Magnus brings his gaze back down to you, watching as you kiss his tip and swirl his tongue around it, your hand squeezing his shaft. He shifts on his feet, a throat groan emitting from deep within his chest.

"You're exceptionally good at this, whore," he comments, stepping closer. His cock rubs against the side of your face and you breathe heavily, lips near his balls. "I know you said you haven't had any other cock except mine...but are you sure? Because you know how to put that whorish mouth of yours to work."

You laugh cooly, twisting your head to lick a long stripe up his throbbing cock. "I've just gotten that good at sucking yours, my king," you claim, snaking two fingers up to massage his perineum. King Magnus chokes on a moan, eyes rolled to the back of his head as you rub big, slow circles on his perineum. Heat pools in your stomach from the sight, pussy leaking onto the floor. "Oh, my king, you enjoy that, don't you?" You wrap your fingers around his bulbous tip and suckle, tongue dipping into his slit.

He groans loudly, his sounds of pleasure echoing in his chambers. "You fucking whore," he says huskily, hands clasping the sides of your head.

You pick up the pace of your fingers, smiling against his dick. "Go ahead, your majesty, fuck my mouth as if it were my pussy." You place him half-way into your mouth, winking, giving him full permission to fuck your warm, wet mouth.

King Magnus wastes no time.

He grips your head and thrusts into your mouth, his heavy balls slapping against your chin. His cock reaches down to the middle of your throat, a bulge having formed.

"Ohh, your mouth is heavenly," King Magnus moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

You hold onto his thighs as he fucks your mouth, wet pornographic noises emitting from your lips. His cock is enveloped in warmth and slickness, his veins pusling against the roof of your mouth and tongue. He fucks your velvety mouth, loads of drool dribbling down your chin.

"Mmf! Mmf! Mmf!"

Your muffled moans echo in the room, eyes filled with tears. You breathe heavily through your nose, as your mouth and throat are currently being used by the king. He thrusts and thrusts, losing himself to the feeling of your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his cock to fuel the pleasure, hands going around to grip his ass, urging him on.

"I'm going to fuck you," King Magnus moaned, picking up the pace of his hips. "Once I spill my seed down your whorish mouth, I'm g-going to bend you over my bed and destroy that slutty pussy of yours."

A shiver runs down your spine from the sound of that. His thick, coarse tone sends the heat straight to your cunt. Your hole flutters, knowing that soon she'll be stretched out and clamping around his massive cock. Hours the king can go for, his stamina never running out. And god, you love it when your pussy gets obliterated by the king.

King Magnus pounds into your mouth a few times before bringing you down his shaft, nose buried in his happy trail, a loud groan tearing from his mouth as he cums down your throat. His cock shoots out thick strings of hot semen, filling up your mouth quickly. You swallow as much as you can, but there's so much. It dribbles out of your mouth, coating your bottom lip and chin in cum.

The king pants heavily, slowly pulling his still rock hard cock out from your mouth. A string of cum connects his tip to your swollen lips, and you whine at the loss of his cock, leaning forward to bring him back.

"Ah ah ah," he says with the click of his tongue, gripping your chin. "You've already had your fill."

"But your majesty," you whimper, licking the cum off your lips. "I love your cock, my king. Please, please let me suck you off again."

You sound so pretty begging to suck his cock again, but he's ready to destroy your sopping wet pussy.

Did you think he hadn't noticed the puddle that formed beneath you?

"My pretty concubine, wouldn't you want the king to fuck you?" King Magnus asks, caressing your neck.

You let out a moan similar to a purr, lips curled up. "Oh, your majesty, you know I do."

"Mmm, my sweet concubine...go bend over the bed, now, and spread yourself open."

[peterparkersnose]

Dragon Rider

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!reader

word count: 5k

warnings: helluva flirting, so many sexual references that its not even funny, bantering, nothing too bad, angst perhaps or just tense moments that made me melt while editing this

a/n Perhaps Aemond is a bit more outgoing in this fic then usual, apologies if I didn’t capture his potentially flirty side correctly. I started watching GOT in October and ended it in March (took a hiatus from Jan-March tho) and I watched HOTD in like a week after that :)

dragon? yeah dragon these balls

I am in no way claiming I am an expert in this, the world george rr martin created is so complex I truly think he is the only one who understands it all.

summary Y/N takes a ride on Aemonds dragon...

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read time: 18 mins 24 seconds

Reading in the presence of the gods was one thing Y/N enjoyed doing on occasion. She would pick her favorite book and seemingly sit there for hours at the Godswood, appreciating the sounds of nature along with the calm winds that often blessed King's Landing.

Today she was reading a book about the arts. Not many words, but beautiful images filled the pages and seemed to enchant her. She was so involved in the book that she didn't notice Aemond as he entered the courtyard. He took a moment to appreciate her beauty as she read. The complete innocence of the sight made his heart warm.

Her outfit was simpler than usual; a light dress with no undergarments besides the essentials. It was nothing near the clothes she usually wore. Thick winter dresses were her usual attire in the North. It felt strange being in such a light dress. Even with the dresses she usually wore around the Red Keep, this dress was nothing as she had ever worn out of her bed chambers. It was a scorching day in King's Landing and she couldn’t bare the thought of going through a day with a corset on.

She heard footsteps as he entered her line of sight. Her heart rate increased. She didn't even have to look up to recognize his figure.

"Reading again, are we? What is it this time... hopeless romance novels? Or historical texts that could actually do you some good to read." He asks cockily. She didn't look up from her book, but a slight smile spread on her face. She could see his figure towering over her in her peripheral vision.

"I suppose," she replied, trying not to let her emotions spill out onto her face.

He took another moment to take in her beauty before he spoke. "W-How are you?" he stutters, his hands fidgeting together as he tries to crack his knuckles. It was a strange change of topic. He didn’t expect her voice to sound so sweet, he didn’t expect her to hide her grin. It caught him off guard almost. He couldn’t care less about the book she was reading anymore. It wasn't often that Aemond Targaryen was nervous... and it was very rare that he let his guard down. Especially in front of her.

"I am doing just fine, Aemond. I see that you stuttered there—do I make you nervous?" she asked him playfully, wishing he would sit beside her against the large tree trunk.

"Perhaps," Aemond said, with a light smile on his face. He chuckled a bit at her remarks as he leaned against the trunk. A playful look came over him as he began to look somewhat flustered. "You never answered my question,"

"What question?" she asked, closing her book and looking up at the mysterious man.

"What are you reading?"

She turned her book so the cover was facing her and read off a false title.

"It's a tutorial novel, in fact. Called 'How to get men to let you read in peace'." she chuckled. Aemond bent down and sat next to her. "I suppose the tricks you've read about haven't worked for you yet?" he smirks.

"I suppose not."

Aemond let out a small sort of sigh. "You do look quite beautiful today."

She looked at him from the side of her eye as she set down her book in front of her. "Your too kind sometimes, my Prince. I miss when you would tease me."

His brows raised. "Tease you?" he asked inquisitively.

"Is that what you'd like?"

The pit in her stomach lit up like a fire. The tone this man used was unreal. He knew how to rile her up and read her sensitivity, even if she tried her best to hide it.

"I'd certainly enjoy it. I've been told I can be quite a brat," she teased, looking at his sharp facial features instead of keeping eye contact. She turned so her body was now facing his.

"Is that so?" Aemond said with a laugh. "Well, you are very much definitely that."

She was taken aback a bit that he replied to her tease with such ease, agreeing with her bratty ways. "You tease." she muttered, taking her bare foot and pushing it against his crossed leg. It was his 'punishment' for agreeing with her statement of being a brat.

Aemond flinched as her bare foot touched his leg. She just knew how much he absolutely hated feet.

"...Ow..." he said sarcastically, his hand rubbing his pant leg where her foot had just touched.

"Have I hurt the strong Prince Aemond? Is he going to send his dragon after me?" she says dramatically, placing a hand on her chest.

"I'm not afraid to bring him out... I'll do what I have to do." Aemond charmingly remarked. "I'll let your insult to the royal Prince pass for now."

"How big is that thing anyways...?" she asked playfully. His eyebrows rose at the question. “Your dragon?”

His voice became hushed. "Very big," he assured her. "Do you want to see?"

"Your dragon?" she asked quickly again, following his question up with hers.

"Yes, my dragon. I would be delighted to show you my dragon," he said, bowing his head and grinning. "Perhaps up close?"

It was becoming very obvious that this conversation was not about Vhagar.

"I thought Targaryen dragons didn't have a fondness for others of houses? I'm sure your dragon would absolutely destroy a Stark like I."

"Destroy you...?" he asked with a brow raised, his voice mixed with a toxic amount of curiosity and mischief. Passion burned in his eye, daring her to resist him.

"It would devour you. In one... single... bite." he whispered, his voice dripping with seductive passion. As each pause came off his lips, it shook her core, leaving her wanting more.

"Oh really? I'd like to see it try. I can be... convincing." you played back, squinting your eyes. His gaze upon you felt hotter than the air in King's Landing that day,

"Convincing?" he repeated her words. He stared down at her with a look that only came once in a lifetime. He had a tantalizing grin on his face.

"Are you just going to repeat my words, or are we going to go see your dragon? Where do you keep that thing anyways? Perhaps in your chamber… do you cuddle it every night before bed?" she asked, brushing off her dress as she began to stand. She steadies herself against the tree. He looked up at her. He had never seen this view before; he usually towered over her. Her hands rested on her hips as she awaited his response.

He let out a laugh. "Is that what you think I do?"

She shrugged, offering him a hand to help him rise from the ground. He accepted her touch, smiling when she struggled to help lift his weight from the ground. "No."

"I want to see it," she begged. "Please, Aemond?"

Her begging unleashed a violence in him that he hadn't felt in a long time. So pretty she sounded, her voice begging to see his prized possession. 

"Follow me then," he said in a hushed tone, a hint of mischievousness still lingering.

"Where are we going? Will I need shoes?" she anxiously asked, following Aemond out of the courtyard. He chuckled to himself at her question and answered, "You won't need shoes. Just follow me," he said, his eye widening a bit in response to her questioning.

Her stomach began to clench in fear as the large facility came into sight. She thought perhaps they would go to his chambers... oh, how she was wrong. They had finally reached the dragon pit. As they entered, she noticed how far up the circular ceilings rose and how dark the pit became after each step down the stairs. She sensed Aemond's presence next to her and wrapped her arm around his bicep.

Aemond let her hold on to his arm, and he gave her a reassuring smile. His eyes looked down at the dim light that showed over her face. They had to see the woman he loved so much holding on to him for comfort. "There's nothing to be scared of," he tried to assure her. Aemond's comforting words just made her hold on tighter to his arm.

"Why is it so dark?" she asked him. The facility was silent as much as it was dark. "I can barely see you anymore."

"Don't worry," he assured her, handing her the lantern he had been carrying. "This should help."

He shook off her grip but took her hand immediately after. "We're close to his lair," he announced.

"Am I in any particular danger being down here? Not being of Targaryen blood and such... I've heard they can smell who is a Targaryen and who isn't." she asked quietly, her voice tinged with a mix of caution and intrigue. The dim light danced upon her face, revealing a flicker of concern in her eyes. Aemond let out a laugh that bounced off the walls with what seemed like a never-ending echo. "No, they cannot smell your bloodline," he reassured her, squeezing her hand a bit. Her absurd question was one he found much humour in. "You are completely safe with me."

His presence seemed to calm her a bit, but her anxiety rose as they made their way toward Vhagar's pit. Aemond motioned for her to set down the lantern and stay quiet with a finger to his lips. He raised his hand to her, signalling for her to stay in her place.

Aemond yelled confidently in High Valyrian, something beyond Y/N's sense of knowledge from the North. The dark abyss became alive as if the words were the spell to unleash the devil.

Vhagar's eyes shot open as they heard his rider approach. The large dragon raised its head from the entrance of the pit and aired out its wings from where they were folded against its body. Vhagar let out the loudest roar Y/N had ever heard. It was enough to make her hair flow behind her face as the dragon's hot breath reached her skin. The floor shook with a danger that scared Y/N to her core.

Her eyes widened as she beckoned backwards. She lost her balance after trying to take in this magnificent creature and tripped on the lantern. Luckily, it stay lit.

"Are you alright?" Aemond asked, rushing to her side. The dragon watched the pair. The movement of his head let another rush of air escape. Aemond seemed panicked, worried this had been a bad idea. Perhaps she wasn't ready for this.

"I... I-"

She was genuinely speechless, looking at this mysterious dark creature that lurked before her. The dragon was quite large; sure, she expected the dragon to be large. But not quite this significant size. This was bigger than any ship, perhaps any castle she had ever seen in her life. He seemed as if he could pick the Red Keep up with his claws and fly away. However, that might have been an exaggeration, but it seemed real to her in this moment.

Aemond shook his head and recognized her fear. "She's... big." Aemond breathed out, reaching out his hand for her as she did for him in the courtyard earlier that day. "Bigger than any dragon I've ever seen, that's for sure." he followed up his statement. She took his hand, and he pulled her up with ease.

Without warning, Vhagar lets out a breath of fire directed toward the ceiling of the pit. The fire edged the structure with a beautiful haze. It wasn't anywhere near close enough to reach the two of them. It seemed as if Vhagar was showing off, playing as Aemond's perfect wingman. Almost literally.

Vhagar's flames disappeared as he watched them reflect in Y/N's eyes. Vhagar turned and began to approach the two of them. Its overgrown claws clipped at the stone floor with the dragon's booming steps toward them. Y/N held on to Aemond, almost as a shield. "I-Is it going to hurt us?"

Aemond chuckled. "Hurt us? She seems to like you. I think Vhagar wants you to approach her."

Y/N looked at him with a truly shocked look. "Me?" she asked, tilting her head. She looked back at the dragon. Vhagar lowered its head about twenty feet away. Y/N was curious to know if the creature was about to roll on its back like a lazy dog or charge at the two of them.

"Yes, you." Aemond said with a softer tone, trying to encourage her. He placed a hand on her lower back to comfort her.

"Why me?" she asked him, looking between his gaze and the dragons.

"Why not you?" he asked, wrapping his hand from her lower back to around her waist. His fingers give her a comforting touch as they lay on her waist.

The dragon began to inch its way closer to the pair. Its golden eyes blinked, seemingly changing color in front of her eyes. As each claw hit the ground, it shook, giving her an uneasy feeling and a reason to return to above ground.

"Go on... stand up straight, do as I say, and stay still. Do not have any rash movements. Do you hear me?" Aemond instructed her, letting her go from his grasp with a tiny push. It was physical, and yet also an emotional push at the same time. "Trust me."

She walked slowly towards the dragon until she could feel the dragon's calm breaths hit her skin. She wished she could turn around and run, but then she surely would have ended up as Vhagar's afternoon snack.

"Now," Aemond said calmly but urgently. She listened to the Dragon Prince, not daring to disobey his orders. "Place your hand out."

"What?" she called back, not questioning his orders but shocked at them. "Do as I say, Lady Stark. She won't eat you." he ordered her, chuckling at his cruel comment. Her whole arm shook as she held her palm to the dragon as a peace offering.

"Eat me?" she whispered, looking behind her and finding him standing there with a stupid grin. "Keep your gaze on the dragon now," he advised, his tongue sharp. "It won't harm you at all. Not with me here,"

Vhagar stood Y/N down. She couldn't help but feel like this could be the last moment of her life. As the dragon moved closer, it had a surprisingly soft touch as it touched its ginormous snout to her hand.

"Just relax..." Aemond said from behind her. Watching the woman he loved interacting with his dragon was enough to send him mad. Vhagar was the most important thing in his life, but perhaps now she sat right next to the dragon on his list of importance. Aemond slowly began approaching her side. He touched her arm, making her jump slightly. "You can stroke her," Aemond suggested. She looked over to Aemond with fear in her eyes. "Are you sure?" she whispered. He shook his head up and down slowly, with a confidence that drove her wild. "You realize, if I die, Cregan will declare war. Correct?"

Aemond smirked. "You won't die. The dragon won't allow that," he said with a grin, his eyes locked on her.

"Are you still afraid, Y/N? Vhagar seems to like you. She wants you to come closer." Aemond said, placing his own hand on his scary dragon as it seemed docile. "She wants me? For what?" Y/N asked, her hand moving slowly over the rough skin of Vhagar, following Aemond's actions. The thick black skin covering the grand dragon felt weird and gritty under her hands as the hot air from its huge mouth blew into her face again. A deep purr-like rhythm escaped from the dragon's throat.

"Just for the both of you to get to know each other. It's not often a dragon takes so kindly to a stranger." Aemond added.

She let out a long-held sigh of relief, which she seemingly had been holding a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. She smiled as the dragon let out another low, guttural purr.

Aemond looked endearingly at his woman, proud of the progress she had made. He had a smug look on his face with a sense of absolute faith towards her. She got along with his dragon. Any other girl in the realm would have left terrified by now- but she was different. She cared enough to see his dangerous interests and perhaps risk her life for his satisfaction. She truly cared. It warmed his heart, even though he would never let this be known to any other living soul.

"She likes you," he says with a teasing tone, placing his hand around her waist again. "I can tell," she replied, mimicking his tone.

She leaves his side and brushes her hand along the rest of the dragon's large face as it rested on the ground of the pit.

"What are you doing?" Aemond asks. He wasn't mad that she was testing her limits with Vhagar, just simply annoyed she left his embrace. "Just stroking it a bit," she teased, looking over the scales' rough details.

Aemond let out a small chuckle, his eyes darting to the floor as he followed her. He kicked his foot on the ground, making a few stray rocks bounce. "Stroke it some more... you seem to like to stroke it, don't you?"

Her head turned back to look at him. She had a passion in her eyes that drove Aemond wild.

"I can tell she likes you a lot. So much... that if you were to stop, there would be some consequences indeed."

He could feel his pants growing tighter. All the teasing she had done that day was enough to last him for a lifetime of private moments in his personal chambers.

"I have to stop sometime, you know. I cant pet a dragon for the rest of eternity," she says with a realistic tone, not teasingly at all. Aemond wouldn't lie; her practical mindset disappointed his fantasies. His encouragement was helped back up as she asked him a follow-up question. Perhaps she could sense his disappointment.

"How do you even ride this thing, anyway?"

Aemond walked over to the side of the dragon. She could just see him behind the wing. "This," he yelled to her confidently and held up a rope. "It's connected to the harness."

"Tell me, have you ever ridden a horse before?" Aemond asked with a curious tone, raising an eyebrow now as he kept his eyes locked on her, and he let the saddle strap back down onto Vhagar. "Many times, yes." she answered him as he made his way back to her side.

"Mounting a dragon is a very similar, yet different experience."

She turned to him, cocking her head. "Y-you want me to mount Vhagar?"

"Perhaps we could take her on a small ride? I know how badly you want to ride a dragon, dear." he sweetly suggested, brushing his hand against her cheek.

She looked dauntingly into his eyes. All the banter had boiled up to this point. She wanted to kiss him terribly. The yearning look she gave him begged for his lips on hers.

"You think I have what it takes to ride a dragon?"

"I know you have what it takes to ride a dragon, love."

He took her hand and slowly walked with her to the saddle strap.

"Aemond," she says, standing a few feet behind him. He expected her to follow his lead. He turns back, loosening his footing on the dragon. "I'm no Targaryen... I'm not a dragon rider. It's not in my blood,"

He slowly reached the ground with his feet and begins to walk towards her. Aemond outstretched his hand, cupping her cheek and looking down into her eyes. "Are you suggesting that it takes more than just a little courage to ride a dragon? You know I won't let anything happen to you. As long as you are with me."

She closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying this intimate moment with Aemond.

"It takes a whole bloodline that I do not acquire,"

A slight smirk rose to his face as he looked down at her. Her silly question made his stomach churn, knowing that he wanted to make her a Targaryen more than anything in the world.

"Nonsense," he whispers. "I have seen children half your age ride dragons before-"

"-But those are Targaryen children, Aemond." she cut off his sentence. He would be pissed at the usual person for doing so, but she gained the pass for disrespecting the Prince.

She placed a hand on his chest. "I am a Stark. I have no Targaryen in me,"

Aemond had to try to hide the grin he yearned to display on his face. He winced a bit, trying to keep his thoughts pure. Evidently, they were not.

Not yet. Oh, my love, not yet.

"I'd say that you're wrong," he concluded, placing his hand upon the hand she had placed on his chest. "There is plenty of Targaryen in you."

He playfully interlocked his fingers with hers.

"I am purebred Stark, unfortunately." she sighed, not a disappointed sigh but what seemed to be a sarcastic one.

"Unfortunately?" Aemond asked her as they began to walk slowly, hand in hand, near the beast.

"Shall we leave Vhagar to rest?" she asked, changing the subject. He could sense her tense demeanor as they got closer and closer to the dragon.

"Rest? Vhagar looks like she's ready for an adventure!" he says playfully, grabbing her other hand and dragging her towards the saddle rope.

She rolls her eyes and follows his grasp. Without asking or with a warning, he picks her up by her waist and mounts her up on the dragon's back. She let out a small yelp, not prepared for his intimate touch.

Vhagar began to squirm as she waited for Aemond's instructions. "Get on, will you?" he yelled playfully to her, nudging her leg in the right direction. "I'm right behind you."

She grabbed the rigid girdle and hoisted herself up onto the leather saddle. Vhagar began to stir. He stood up and took a step before Aemond could successfully hoist himself up on the saddle. Y/N yelled his name out and outstretched her hand. He grabbed her hand and yelled something in High Valyrian to the dragon.

"Hold on, my love." he said to her. Y/N wrapped her arms around his torso as he held on to the harness and began shouting more at the dragon.

The dragon began walking out of the pit. Vhagar let out a large screech, one that was louder than the last roar she had heard from the dragon previously. If she wasn't holding on to Aemond for dear life, she would have fallen off from the absolute jump scare it was.

As Vhagar let out another loud roar, the ceiling began to open. The hot skies had turned gray and overcast. She couldn't be holding onto Aemond any tighter than she was. As the dragon took flight, a rush of wind swept through Y/N's hair, tousling it playfully. The ground below grew smaller, the dragon pit almost becoming a speck of dust in her vision.

Her chin rested upon Aemond's shoulder as she anxiously held on to him. The refreshing scent of oncoming rain calmed her. The dragon could sense her newfound ease on her back and took its first swoop through the air. As Vhagar did this, Y/N let out a terrified scream, but the fearful tone soon turned joyous. Y/N's eyes widened as she watched King's Landing disappear beneath the clouds.

Her cheerful cries satisfied Aemond. She had finally gotten to experience the flight of a dragon. The times he had tried to explain this feeling to her in the past were no match for the real thing. Aemond's heart swelled with a deep sense of pride, a feeling always there, but it seemed to expand with her holding on to his waist.

With every beat of the dragon's wings and each breath of wind brushing against their faces, Aemond wished he could see her facial expression. He imagined the feeling of freedom in her, the same feeling he had many years ago when he first tamed Vhagar.

Her laughter was music to his ears.

The dragon ride represented more than just a thrilling adventure. It was a glimpse into the potential future they could build together, filled with shared experiences, trust, and an unspoken understanding. She was willing to take on the risky Targaryen lifestyle, even if it meant riding him or the dragon. Her ambition was the right one to match his. He had trusted her with something he had never trusted anyone else to do, not even his own brother. How she honored his house and their traditions were enough to make him fall off the dragon and mush into a pile of bliss.

Vhagar screeched and let out a breath of fire. Y/N's stomach dropped as the dragon dived straight into the ball of fire and hid her head in Aemond's shoulder. He laughed gregariously at her fear, grabbing her hand around his waist and interlocking their fingers. The heat didn't burn the two, but a rush of hot air pummeled around the two of them. The exhilarating feeling of adventure filled her, and she begged for more.

With each beat of the dragon's wings, Y/N's fears dissolved being replaced by a profound sense of freedom. She laughed and cried out with ultimate joy alongside Aemond. Her sweet words to him were carried away by the wind and unheard by his ears. Aemond didn't need words to know the exact feeling she was attempting to express to him. The world became a blur of colors and sensations, an exhilarating rush that filled their senses.

Rain began to fall. It drew down heavily on them since they were so high in altitude. Aemond spoke to his dragon once more in High Valyrian. Vhagar seemed to calm her sharp swoops and cries out and find his way back to the hill upon which the Dragon Pit sat.

Y/N was speechless as Vhagar landed. It was a bumpy landing due to the ground. It was now muddy.

Three men dressed in robes came out screaming in High Valyrian at the dragon. Aemond balanced himself on Vhagar's back as he reached out a hand for hers. She took it and swiftly slid down the dragon's back as Aemond pushed her ahead of himself.

She stumbled on the ground and fell to her bottom. Her dress was dirtied due to the dragon's soot and the fresh mud. It didn't matter anyways. Her dress and hair were already soaking wet. She watched as Aemond gracefully slid his way down the dragon. His Princely traits are shown brightly. He smirked at her as the wind blew his long, wet hair behind his shoulders. Vhagar complimented his aura as the dragon let out a long roar behind him. She was almost lost in his enigma.

As if he walked in slow motion toward her, he reached out his hand to help her up.

"Not bad for your first time," he stated, pulling her up and straight into his embrace.

Vhagar screeched from the back as the robed men guided her back into the Dragon Pit.

She steadied herself in his embrace, grabbing both of his arms. Her dress clung to her as it was soaked. Y/N pulled at it; she hated feeling it against her skin.

Her eyes met his gaze as he smiled, almost cruelly at her. He didn't care anymore; Aemond let his gaze fall down to her chest and below, taking her beautiful sight in.

"A beautiful girl who just rode on a beautiful dragon. My beautiful girl, my beautiful dragon." he said, pulling her closer. Their bodies were practically touching. Thunder cracked behind them. She smiled, touching her forehead to his.

"We should get back before the storm gets bad,"

He hated her realistic talking. Oh, how he loathed her responsibility just as he admired it. He had to stop these words... he had to shut her up.

"Shush," he whispers in his raspy, needy voice.

The rain created a symphony around them, the soft droplets pelting them softly as they stood together on Dragon Pit's hill. Aemond closed the distance between himself and Y/N with a soft and determined gaze.

She tasted of rain mixed with sweat and adrenaline. Something that made Aemond just crave her more and more with each second passing. His hands made their way around her, embracing her with a firm grasp around her waist. The rain seemed to shield them from the rest of the world as they stayed embraced like nobody was watching. There was no care in the world at that moment, just the two of them standing sopping wet in the storm.

As they finally parted, she struggled to catch her breath. Her lips still tingled with the remnants of their kiss. Her heart raced, looking back at the face of the man who had just given her the most sense of freedom she had ever felt, along with the most sense of fear. With a shaky exhale, she felt all of her anxieties and doubts go away about her relationship with Aemond. At that moment, she knew he was the one for her; the only one in the world fit for her. He could meet her adventurous needs, as he also aspired to the same ones as her.

"My dragon rider," Aemond declared softly, still close enough to feel her breath on his. The nickname sent chills down her spine. Aemond was proud to claim her as his with this new name. It was one he knew he would be calling her for the years to come. Aemond would never forget this special day. He would yearn to relive it for years.

"My Prince," she declared, smiling and looking up again to meet his eager gaze.

With that, Aemond and Y/N walked back to the Red Keep without a care in the world. They were sopping wet, but they were in love. They didn't care what the guards would think or his mother's spies she had placed strategically around the castle.

Vhagar was not the last dragon she would ever ride. As a Stark, she knew she could never own her own dragon. The man who gently held her hand and looked down at her with an undescribable lustful look would have to do.

-

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