#one of my many large sons

[rennyrose]

Been a while since I did an Anthony haul-

Weird doctor and a medic who likes cats and sometimes gets into fights during his free time-

[icewindandboringhorror]

More misc. daily life pictures and such

[un-pearable]

george lucas handed an overwritten mess in and then the fandom + otherwise involved creators in the extended universe and other supplemental media have spent the last decades ritualistically dissecting it and reworking it’s constituent parts into some of the most fascinating worldbuilding you can get. and the average person has no knowledge of this and just watched disney completely fumble it within an hour and a half of their first title crawl in The Force Awakens and proceed to completely fall apart within the next 3 hours . and that’s just what star wars is to them

[countess-of-edessa]

im aware that this is just like,,,the nature of food. but it’s kind of galling when something takes 5+ hours to make and the family member who had the least to do with its creation eats seventy five percent of it in fifteen minutes

[thebuginyourwalls]

Trying not to put sizey stuff in my non-gt project challenge: Impossible Difficulty

[autisticlee]

I don't understand why so many religious weirdos claim dinosaurs never existed and the bones/fossils dug out of the ground were buried under rock by scientists and then dug back out. it makes no sense at all. does their religion book tell them they were fake? is that what it is? because they seem to love letting some old mistranslated book dictate their entire life, thoughts, feelings, actions, etc. they even make up stuff the book supposedly says to excuse their behavior and justify horrible things, which makes them hypocrites for not actually following their book they claim tells them exactly how to live their lives that they must follow exactly or they will go to hell. but they sure like to pick and choose what they follow and make up new rules. but anyway, why do they hate dinosaurs lmao

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[yamujiburo]

Why I Love Hanamusa

I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:

First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.

I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!

Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!

It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.

Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.

Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.

All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs. 

Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.

Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.

There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.

I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.

[rorimoon9597]

Jason lay on the ground with Dick and Tim in a circle, their heads in the center. A bag of Skittles was passed around, and it took a small amount of effort to not choke on the candy.

"What if I started my own drug empire?" Jason asked randomly.

"I'd use the basement in Drake manor for that," Tim replied in equal serious measures.

"Why?" Dick asked, genuinely curious.

"It's dark, and large. No one has a reason to go down there, either. You could make and store a lot of drugs in there. Then I'd hand them out to the socialites of Gotham because hen I can over price the drugs and get more money."

"Would that even work?"

"The rich haven't been subjected to many good dealers. If you can get them the drugs they want, then they won't sell you out, and you can scam them without making it seem like a scam."

"You've thought this out, haven't you?" Dick asked.

"I consistently walk a tightrope of Hero and criminal. I could easily fall into the criminal side of things if I wished."

"You're unhinged," Jason commented off-handedly. He grinned. "I like that."

"Thank you." Dick made a noise of concern. "You literally killed the Joker because he boasted about killing Jason then threatened to kill me, Dick. Don't act like you're normal either."

"He became Robin to get revenge on his parent's murderer," Bruce said as he passed by his three sons.

"And you're a fucking furry," Jason muttered under his breath, just loud enough for his siblings to hear.

They promptly broke into laughter.

[satorusdiary]

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro

Tojis a dilf in this one too, since you guys love my dilf toji fanfics sm :)

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who scolds you for taking his clothes in his massive closet, but also demands you wear his clothes all the time just because of how cute you look in it.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who loves the sight of coming home after a long day at work, and sees you in one of his large hoodies waiting for him on the couch.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who pays for your college tuition, just because he got jealous when another older male came up to you and offered to pay for you tuition. Not only that, but he demands the best from your campus only for you.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who spoils you, buys you all the best things anyone could wish for, just because you take good care of him and his son. The best girlfriend, and step-mother for his child anyone could ask for. <3

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who cuts your steak, or any big portions of food whenever you go into expensive restaurants.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has many framed photos of you in his office, continuously rubbing his thumb over your face whenever he misses you.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who provides everything for you. He leaves his black card just so you could treat yourself, on your nightstand.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who gets upset when he notices you don’t use any money out of his black card. You’re his woman, and Toji Fushiguro’s woman deserves the absolute world. So why aren’t you taking it into your advantage?

———————————————————————————

Toji

Sweetheart, why aren’t you using my card? sent 1:09 pm

You

I don’t need it.. Toji i feel bad, i feel like i’m depending on you too much. :( seen 1:09 pm

Toji

Baby. Everything that’s mine is yours, go treat yourself please. You deserve it, i’ll come pick you up inna few n we’re gonna go shopping. seen 1:10 pm

You

I love you so so much, can Megumi come? seen 1:10 pm

Toji

Yes. Get him ready if it’s not a problem, i’ll take you both on a family dinner date at the new restaurant in the city. seen 1:11 pm

Toji

Also, i love you more.

———————————————————————————

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who isn’t afraid to embarrass any of the college boys who won’t leave his little pretty girlfriend alone.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has your name tattooed on his waist, and the date you both got together on his bicep.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who can’t help but smile whenever you run up to him, with the biggest grin on your lips. His arms opening up so you can jump into his grasp.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who cuddles you to sleep, he has a large hand around your head and another one around your waist. Somehow, whenever you wake up his hand always manages to be inside your pajamas and in between your thighs..

Later he would explain how he loves to keep his hands warm when he wakes up, which means cupping your heat whilst you sleep.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has you on his lap, your face buried in his neck and him rubbing your back while you cry. You never forget the soft words he spills into your ears, trying to console you as you spill out your feelings after a stressful day.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who surprises you with many bags of luxurious, and expensive jewelry just before you wake up, just so it could cheer you up after crying.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who kisses your forehead, and makes his way down from your nose, to your lips.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who knows he found the one when he notices how much Megumi loves you more than him. The amount of times Megumi has came running into your arms without hesitation makes Toji question if his son loves your company more than his. But he isn’t complaining.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who carries you to take a bath with him. The feeling of his large hands cleaning you never fails to leave you flustered, especially when nude skin to skin contact is happening.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who always tells you he loves you, and that you will always be his little girl.

nsfw

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has you in mating press, his forehead against yours as you continue to cry and babble out random shit while his hips slap against yours.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro whose large cock leaves a bulge. The stretch is overwhelming, but Toji’s always there to comb his hands in your hair to calm you down. Whilst leaving soft kisses on your forehead.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who loves cupping your breasts.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who loves when you submit to him. Your begging, and your cries only turns him on even more.

———————————————————————————

“Ohh fuck— Daddy’s fucking you real good hm baby?” The older man’s chain hovers over your face , the heat inside you building up as Toji’ cock continues to bully your cervix.

His hands are cupping your ass, giving big squeezes as it’s also pressing you down on your shared large bed. You felt embarrassed, belittled. Then again, the feeling was exciting.

Your silence only makes his grin get bigger. Now one of his hands are removed from your ass, to your cheek. Cupping it lovingly.

“C’mon, y/n sweetheart don’t be like that. Speak to me before i pull out and leave you here with none of my cum inside of you.” He groans, slowing his thrusts. Your eyes widen as you notice the loss of satisfaction beginning to happen as he slows down.

“N-No! Stop, ‘m sorry Toji.. please keep on going. I’ll be good!” Tears of frustration begin flowing into your pretty lil eyes.

Your boyfriend’s a cruel man. A cruel man who yet knows how to make love to you, and at the same time piss you off. But you can’t argue, who are you to argue with the one who manages to give you all the happiness in the world?

Toji buries his head into your neck, biting harshly as he leaves hickeys over the faded ones. You’re sure you felt his smirk from over your skin.

His thrusts begin getting rougher, rougher than before. Suddenly your hands begin wrapping around your boyfriends neck harshly just so your able to keep yourself steady.

“I gotcha’ sweets.” His cock twitches inside of you as your walls tighten around him.

“Fuck. Your so beautiful y/n. I love you ‘s fuckin much.” His hands intertwine with your smaller ones, his hips slapping even faster and rougher against yours.

———————————————————————————

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who never forgets to fill you up with his load.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who has many poloroids of you naked, and messy with his cum.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who jerks off to photos and videos of you when he’s away from home, missing his little family.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro who always praises you for making him feel good, for being his perfect girlfriend, for being the love of his life.

Older bf! Toji Fushiguro whose world only revolves around you.

———————————————————————————

Authors note: not proof read

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

[misstycloud]

Yandere arranged fiancé x reader

You’re the sole daughter of the famous (l/n) family; big corporations, monopolisation and seemingly endless wealth are all words associated with your family. You have lived well your entire life and will for the rest of it, too. You have never been denied of anything, whether it be new clothes, makeup or whatever new hobby had caught your interest at the moment- except for the chance to take over the business after your father.

Unfortunately, despite how loving your family could be, they still held on to old traditions and ideas. One of which was that the large portion of the inheritance should go to the son. No matter how hard you try or how much you plead, you will never inherit the companies.

Your family doesn’t understand. They believe you should be content with your position- of course you know you’re incredibly privileged, but you hoped do be able to contribute to something instead of just sitting around forever. It made things meaningless. Did you only exist to become someone’s wife?

You barely remembered the first time you met him. You were around seven and he was ten. Despite your foggy recollection of what you two did that day, you did recall the expression on his face; emptiness and indifference. It was the day before that you heard the word fiancé for the first time. You didn’t know what it really meant, but thanks to your parents guidance, you understood it meant you two are going to be together for the rest of your lives.

Your parents had a couple whom they’ve been close friends for a long time, and it just so happened they had a son a little over your age. They were rich, just like you. So why not marry you two when you got older?

The first impression you had of him was of the oddnes he carried with him. He never smiled, never cried and barely spoke. He only lest he’d you with that blank look on his face. At least he played with you. Well, it depends on if it could be called playing, considering it was you dragging him around and demanding he humour you. Looking back at it, you feel bad for him having to endure the torture of a child’s endless energy. However, he didn’t complain at all and kept passing the ball after you continued sending it his way.

Whatever ‘I’m happy so I’m gonna make you happy with my happiness’- magic you had in your youth did eventually rub off on him. The change was evident in more ways in one. He started smiling- albeit they were small- and even gave the occasional chuckle. After that you became friends for real and it wasn’t forced as it’d felt in the beginning. This positive shift served as a strong motivator for both your parents’ willingness to have you wed. You supposed you would be rather devastated as well if your one and only child had come out with the emotional constipation your fiancé had, so you understood their encouragement. They treated you like some miracle cure.

You were content with your life and arrangement for years. That was until you got older and began actually thinking about your situation in detail. Your ambitions and needs also grew and you found yourself wishing to work to make your family greater; to put down the sweat and blood your ancestors had to give you the life you had now. But it was simply a dream, one that wouldn’t come true. You would never forget the confused- almost mocking-disbelief your mother and father showed you when you asked to inherit the company.

“Sweetie, why’d you ever be interested in such things?” Your mother asked. “Simply relax and enjoy the life you have now- the life your husband will continue to provide for you.”

You looked towards your father, hoping he would support you in any shape or form but he nodded in agreement with your mother.

“She’s right, dear.”

He was never a man of many words, however you a single sentence you knew the topic was done with.

While you had no doubt they loved you, they certainly didn’t understand you either. They couldn’t fathom why you weren’t content with your life and didn’t wish for your partner to take care of everything.

You spiraled afterwards. You could have everything and nothing at once. It was a strange feeling and it left you feeling angry. And that anger had to be directed at something: your fiancé. You began thinking he was the source of your misfortune. Because of him you would lose your freedom and have to live by his restrictions and rules for the rest of your life. Once you turn (y/o) you’ll have to marry him no matter your opinion. You would solely be his.

There was still time before your wedding and you’d be damned if you couldn’t live how you wanted until then. In an attempt of rebellion you moved out of your family’s estate and into an apartment of your own. (They agreed because they thought you desired to spend some alone time with your fiancé without them being near) You also stopped responding to his calls; he’d been calling every week to get updates on how things were going. You simply put your phone on silent mode whenever his name popped up. After the fifth time of calling, you blocked his number in great annoyance. Why couldn’t he just leave you be? You’re not ten anymore, you don’t have to talk every second of the day, ugh.

After a couple weeks with your new living conditions, another thought hit you. If you were going to be tied down to one man forever, why not meet as many as you can right now? And so you started going out more, inviting your friends to go clubbing and perhaps find someone interesting. More weeks followed, with a new guy in your apartment every month. Some stayed for the night only, while some preferred to stay a little longer. However, they all left as quickly as they’d come when you’d mention your engagement. Either they didn’t want to get tangled up in some lovers drama or they’d cuss you out for being a cheater. Were you one? Whatever, you thought, it doesn’t count if you don’t love each other- which you didn’t.

But one day, completely unforeseen by you, he swung by your new apartment. He’d been worried about you. Almost three months had gone by without a single word from you. He believed you might’ve gotten in an accident. Suddenly, you felt ashamed. It was strange, you hadn’t felt anything like it earlier. But now you did. You realised that your sweet, innocent fiancé wasn’t the root of your problems. You need to stop directing your anger at the wrong person. You explained everything, about how you felt and why you ignored him for so long.

You profusely apologised to him a million times when he found out about the others you’d been spending time with. You would never forget the look on his face that day when he found out. It was cold- colder than you’d ever seen him. Of course, he was like that to most, but never to you. In the end, he chose to forgive you. He told you that he understood and that it was fine; you weren’t wed yet and it was natural that you wanted to explore. You swore that you’d stop and make it up to him, while he said it wasn’t necessary, you hadn’t actually done anything wrong. You also swore that you’d be loyal to him and that you’d never do anything behind his back when you’re legally married. Thankfully, he appeared to believe you.

However, you wished you could’ve foreseen what would happen next. Nowhere in your mind, did you think you’d find yourself in your luxurious bathroom, staring at the two red lines of a pregnancy test. Eapecially when your fiancé didn’t have a part in it.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

[patheticdarling]

Her Sacrifice

Summary: The assassins had no such luck finding Prince Aemond but what were they to do when they stumbled upon the beloved wife of King Aegon instead? Her belly swollen with his heir.

Warnings: Blood & Cheese/murder/gore & blood/cursing/threats/blades/pregnancy/kidnapping/funeral/incest (reader is helaena's older twin)

Word Count: 2236

"The other lords will be accompanying me for a drink in the Throne Room. Shall you join us, Wife?" Aegon asked, a slightly eager smile on his face, anticipating your agreement.

You sighed as you began to undo the braids in your hair, "The hour is late, Husband. I must rest."

Aegon pouted, "Just a cup! We've attended to our royal duties all day, have we not earned a bit of respite?"

"Respite is what I shall get with a good night's sleep. Not drinking until sunrise with you and your comrades," you teased. You stood from seat at your vanity, walking over and placing Aegon's hand on your growing bump, "Besides, do you not wish for our babe to be born healthy? So that they may grow into formidable dragon riders like their parents."

He smiled softly at your belly before kissing it sweetly, "You make a good point, my dear. Mayhaps I should stay in with you."

You shook your head, smiling down at him, "Do not let me stop your fun. You are right. The King deserves his respite. Besides there may not be many more nights where we get to enjoy ourselves," motioning to your bump.

"You are going to make a wonderful mother," Aegon stood from his seat, "I shall allow you to enjoy your last moments of rest then." He planted a soft kiss on your lips, "I love you, Y/N."

You stroked his hair, "I love you, Aegon."

Aegon kissed you once more before giving your belly a playful squeeze and disappearing from your chambers. You summoned one of your ladies to help you finish getting ready for bed. Thanking her as you got yourself comfortable between the silk sheets of you and Aegon's bed. Finally bidding her good night as she blew out most of the candles, leaving a few on for Aegon's drunken return.

You could not be sure of the hour when you heard your chamber doors creak open followed by the shuffling of feet. You did not even bother opening your eyes, assuming you'd feel the bed indent as Aegon stumbled towards it.

"Back so soon?" you teased, "I was only being half serious about the sunset-"

Suddenly, a large hand clamped over your mouth. Your eyes shot open as two men loomed over you. You screamed and panicked as the larger man used his other arm to keep you pinned to the bed.

"Quiet!" the smaller man pulled a blade out, pressing it to your throat, "Unless you want me to bleed you like a pig."

You nodded, terrified of what these men could do, "W-Who are you? What do you want?"

"Its not our wants you should be concerned with, Your Grace."

"Who sent you? What do y-you want from me?" your voice shook.

"A life is owed. It wasn't supposed to be you. A son for a son we were told," the smaller man shrugged, "But it seems Prince Aemond isn't in the castle tonight."

Of course, you thought. This was about Lucerys. Your younger brother had taken the boy's life and that was a deed that could not go unpunished. You knew how deeply your eldest sister loved all of her children. The loss of one would be devastating. Taking Aemond's life made sense. But taking yours? And the life of your unborn child? That was not in Rhaenyra's nature. This was plotted by someone far more sinister and dark.

"My uncle sent you, didn't he?" you spoke up. They both sent stares to the other, "Daemon Targaryen. He sent you to kill one of us."

The large man scoffed, "Aren't you a smart one?"

"Shame those smarts won't do you any good now, will they?" the smaller one mocked.

"Please," you tried to beg, "Do not do this. No good will-" The large hand came down on your mouth again.

"That's enough," he grunted before turning back to the smaller man, "I'll hold her down and you cut."

Your blood ran cold at his words. Not only were they going to kill you but they were going to tortuously cut out your unborn child. They both yanked you further down the bed until you were flat on your back. You tried to kick, scream, bite, thrash as much as you could but the man proved to have almost inhuman strength. The smaller man raised his blade, that same sadistic grin plastered on his face before he began to dig it into the lower part of your abdomen.

White hot pain seared through your body as he continued to slice into you. Your vision was blurred with tears and you could have sworn your throat was raw from your cries. Though the pain was so intense that you could not process the sounds that might have been leaving you. Warm blood pooled all around you, the once ivory sheets now a deep crimson. One last gasp left you as they pulled your child from your body.

Suddenly you had remembered your mother telling you about the pains of childbirth when you first married Aegon and all anyone could talk about was you producing his heirs. She had a rather negative approach that utterly terrified you. So, you decided to find comfort in Rhaenyra's advice instead.

"I will not withhold the truth from you, it truly is the most excruciating pain a woman must go through."

You groaned, "That is not what I had wished to hear, Sister."

"You did not let me finish. The process is hard, yes. And you will feel the urge to curse the Gods or even your husband and swear to never bear anymore children," you both laughed, "But the moment you hear those sweet cries and your babe is placed upon your chest, the pain is forgotten. And nothing has ever seemed so worth it. Then you will know, right then and there, that you would do it all over again if it meant you could finally find that purest form of love."

And yet, you would never discover that beautiful feeling your sister had painted so clearly. The room was almost eerily silent besides the dripping of blood onto the stone floor.

"What do you know?" the man panted as he held your lifeless infant, "A son. Congratulations, my Queen."

You could not speak as you felt your body numb itself. Tears falling with no cries as they stuffed your son's body into a sack. It was as if you could feel your heart shatter. The men finished their sinister act before fleeing through a secret passageway. You tried little to fight the heaviness in your eyes. Perhaps this was all a horrible dream and if you shut your eyes, you'd open them to find yourself in bed with Aegon's arms wrapped securely around your belly. The last thing you could muster was a small smile at the sentimental image as your vision faded out completely.

"Sister?" Helaena called out into your bed chamber, "I did not wish to wake you but Aegon is being so loud and I cannot sleep with him-" Her voice caught in her throat at the sight of your mangled body lying on the bed. Your figure lifeless and your eyes vacant as you stared at the canopy. She approached your body, a shaky hand reaching out to touch your face to be met with utter stillness. Helaena backed out of the room slowly, tears flowing down her cheeks before sprinting to find some sort of help. As if anyone could undo what had already been done.

"I-I don't know what happened. I came in and she...she was..." Helaena's voice cracked with sobs as various people filed into the royal bed chamber; the Kingsguard, the Dowager Queen, the Hand, and lastly, your husband.

They all stopped at the sight before them, their eyes welling with tears and their stomachs churning. The Dowager Queen let out a heavy sob as all their attention turned to the King. Aegon approached your body cautiously.

He fell to his knees, his hands cradling your bloodied face as he sobbed, "My wife, my dearest-"

Nobody dared say a word as Aegon mourned over you. His sobs heavy with grief as he called out your name over and over again. The Queen Mother clutching Helaena's arm as they cried with him. The Kingsguard hanging their heads low in shame at their failure to protect their Queen. Otto Hightower, known to be quick with his word, said nothing.

The council meeting that followed was one full of dread and grief. Most of the council mourned, the Hand schemed, and the King could do not but curse the Gods and swear revenge.

"Your Grace, perhaps we should speak of the funeral arrangements for the Queen-"

"No," Aegon was quick to stop the Hand, who raised a brow at his grandson's denial, "I will not have my wife's body dragged through the streets like a dog!"

"Not dragged, honored!" Otto corrected him before lowering his tone as he spoke to the King, "Y/N was my granddaughter and I loved her. She deserves the funeral of a Targaryen princess, a Targaryen queen. The small folk wish to mourn their Queen and the heir she carried. And they need to know who is responsible for this."

Aegon's face twisted in disbelief, "How could they not already know?! Who else would do this save the bitch queen of bastards?!"

"We must know for certain, Your Grace," Lord Jasper suggested, "If it was not your sister, this may prove to be an even bigger threat to the crown, to you, my King."

Aegon scoffed, "I do not care what threatens me. My wife is dead. And my child," he stifled a sob, "That cunt did this, I know it. Her and her kingdom of traitorous bastards will burn for it."

Before anyone could speak, the doors of the council chamber opened as Lord Larys entered. He bowed meekly as all eyes turned to him.

"My lords, Your Grace," he greeted the council.

All stood still, "State your purpose, Lord Larys," the Hand spoke.

"We have apprehended one of the assailants. A gold cloak, known for his brutal nature. The guards caught him fleeing the Gate of Gods. He carried the child's body in a sack."

The King hardly wasted any time, stomping over to the doors, "I shall kill him myself."

"We might retrieve further information about who is to blame for this tragedy after questioning," Ser Criston stopped Aegon from leaving as Otto spoke, "I trust in your skill set, Lord Larys."

The Strong Lord bowed before exiting the room. All eyes turned once again to the King and his Hand.

"We will hold the service for both the child and mother-"

"I said no," Aegon grunted, "My wife and child will not be put on display for the Realm."

"Your Grace, we might use this to our advantage in the war you wish to march into. Your people need to know the depravity that Rhaenyra is capable of. The great houses of Westeros will see that she is not fit to rule given her cruel nature. They will flock to your side and with them, their armies and bannermen."

Aegon continued to shake his head. He could not just let them see you or your child like that. They did not deserve it.

"Mother," he turned to the Dowager Queen for support.

Alicent approached Aegon's chair, "The Hand sets on a difficult path, my darling, but it might be the right one."

The King could not muster anymore fight, "Have the Silent Sisters prepare the Queen and child for their journey. Behind them will be Princess Helaena and the Queen Mother."

"No, I do not wish to be a spectacle," Alicent argued but her father would not hear it.

Your husband visited your body as the Silent Sisters began to prepare it. They had cleaned the mess and dressed you in one of your favorite dresses, the emerald color complimenting your skin and hair.

"Your Grace, it is ill-fated to look upon the face of death," Maester Orwyle warned.

"That is not the face of death, Maester. That is my wife," Aegon spoke, "Leave me with her."

Maester Orwyle and the Silent Sisters bowed before leaving the King with your body. He softly stroked the hair from your face as he broke into sobs once again.

"I am so sorry, my love," he cried, "I-I should have been there to protect you. And our son." Maester Orwyle had informed His Grace that the child you carried was a prince, a perfect heir, "You truly would have been the most wonderful mother. You were already a perfect wife and Queen. Motherhood would have come naturally."

Aegon recounted how well you did with Rhaenyra's last two babies, the ones she had with his uncle Daemon. As much as he did not care for his half-sister, he knew you did. Always quick to defend her, even against your own family. So, he was forced to ask himself, how could she do this to you? To your child?

"They will pay for what they have done," your husband muttered to you, "I will win this war. I will win it for our child. I will win it for you. With fire and blood. Your sacrifice will not be for naught, my Queen."

[munsonmuses]

Emperor Geta x Fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, gladiatorial combat, animalistic tendencies, uhhhg there’s a breeding kink. This was not proofread.

Word Count: 2.3k

Authors Comments: Iiiii was a major Roman Empire nerd as a kid, so if there’s stuff you’re like “that seemed specific” about? I promise you the research was done and I had to consult my notebooks from when I was a teeny tot (like a young teen). And yes, thumbs up signified death because it represented an upturned sword for combat, and the thumbs down signified sparing the loser, by turning your sword down to sheath

The light fabric of the linen chiton you wore felt like chains, the beautiful gold brooches holding it in place and the belt that rested low on your waist like the shackles. Leading you to a life you’d never wanted. To a future you knew you’d loathe so deeply. This wasn’t the life you’d dreamt of as a young woman. Bringing peace to an empire, marrying a man who was made perfectly for you by the gods.

All of these opportunities had been ripped from between your fingers. Your life slipped away the moment you’d heard that Emperor Geta had set his sights on you. He was callous, pompous, the human equivalent of a promenading lion. He thought nothing but the best of himself, and believed he deserved things equally as good. One of those things being you.

Your finger delicately worked on adjusting the raw leather straps of your sandals. The stephane felt like it was weighting your whole body down, veil swishing against your nape, sending chills down your spine. That the earth may swallow you whole in one fell motion was a wishful thought as you carefully examined the large hall.

It was egregious, how much gold one man could have. How many statues of himself an individual could bare to own. Slowly standing from the large chaise you’d been guided too and approaching one. tracing the curve of his nose, the apples of his cheeks. The manic look they’d managed to capture in his marble portrait, captured perfectly within the massive pupils. Scoffing lightly before hearing a laugh from behind you that caused your skin to pebble viciously. Turning around to face him.

The statue somehow didn’t manage to perfectly capture his mania. Pupils so wide they looked almost entirely black. A wolfish grin. His entire body reeked of need and want.

“You, are even more beautiful than Caracalla described…just look at you-“ his hands clamped down on your upper arms. Holding you in place as he hummed. “You’ll do nicely…” he murmured as you quirked a brow lightly.

You prayed that when you asked, he’d give you a different answer than what you’d been prepared for. Not wanting to surrender yourself to matrimony with a man so viciously bloodthirsty and self righteous. “What will I do nicely for, imperator?” You whispered as he let his eyes glaze over your body. Taking in every inch of you before nodding.

“Don’t be silly, you know what I brought you here for. I have chosen you to be my empress. Not Caracalla’s. Strictly my own.” He insisted as he moved a hand up to grip your jaw while humming. “You’ll take to the role with pride. A loving and affectionate empress…and you’ll give me my sons to lead the future of my empire once my time has come. Am I understood?” He questioned as you scoffed lightly to yourself. Fixing your rings and pulling away. Pacing the large floor of the hall as he kept his eyes on you. Ready to pounce if necessary.

“I am marrying you strictly for familial agreement. Through my loyalty for my empire and my dedication to my familial name…it has nothing to do with you.” You murmured as he sucked on his teeth lightly. You weren’t afraid of him, you saw yourself as an independent being, even a possible equal. An equal amount of hatred that matched his levels of obsession. Overall, he was clearly agitated by your lack of throwing yourself at him, the need for you to desperately present yourself to him. Though he wouldn’t push it. To get you out from under Caracalla’s thumb was difficult enough, so he’d take what he could get.

“Your chambers are prepared, you’ll be dressed for our wedding and you’ll smile. You’ll be grateful.” He ordered as you nodded, allowing the two women by the doorway to follow you out as you sighed in frustration to yourself.

These women were terrified to touch you, though they attempted to feebly conceal their terror as you hummed. Hair carefully arranged with an orange veil placed atop. Slipping into the white woven fabric of your wedding tunic, and slipped on orange sandals. Careful with them as you worked on fastening the knot of Hercules around your waist. Nodding slowly as you assessed yourself in the mirror.

It felt like lead lined your stomach as you approached the large garden, eyes meeting with Geta’s own. Your family and his court clearly anxiously awaiting your arrival. Your dowry had been exchanged, and Geta grinned delightedly at the sight of you approaching. Wringing his fingers, rings loudly knocking together as you frowned in mild fury. He was childish and cocky and self absorbed, albeit a bit handsome.

You stopped in front of him as the two of you read over the marriage contract. His eyes constantly flicking up to you as you lifted your metal pen from the inkwell. Scrawling your name with confidence as he followed suit. His hand suddenly clutching your left wrist as your head whipped to look at him. Geta removing the thick red stoned ring upon one of his fingers and slipping it onto one of your own as he hummed contentedly. Clearly awaiting reciprocation for his affections.

You carefully took his face, pressing a pursed lip kiss to his own plush pink lips as he cradled the back of your head and your waist. Satisfied with his win. Cementing your future with your new husband, as empress.

Your wedding was a few months ago, and in that time you’d been growing to know, like, and even love Geta. Although shrouded in cruel mystery, he did have a tender heart when it came to you. Gifting you lavishly, bathing you in riches and praise. You’d never gone to bed on an empty stomach, and you managed to share romantic pleasantries with him regularly.

You sat beside him as you watched a battle in the coliseum. Head perched on your fist in boredom as he smiled wide at you. The folds of your brooches and adornments complimenting the rich purples of your own robes. Your stephane crooked as his hand delicately reached up to adjust it. “Isn’t this delightful my heart?” He whispered eagerly as you scoffed in light amusement. Grinning lightly at him as you kissed his rings lightly.

“It’s alright. Gladiator fights have never…settled my nerves. If anything the bloodsport terrifies me…” you murmured as his own lips pulled into a tight frown. Though unlike usual, he didn’t have a smart or cold comment to make.

You carefully watched the two men fight, though you could barely call them that. Barely older than sixteen a piece as you chewed on your lip. The larger of the two slamming his sword into the smaller boys shield. Reminding you of the kind boys you’d known in your youth who had the whole world in front of them, stolen in war. Your heart heavy at the sight.

Geta’s eyes were trained on you. Noticing the paleness in your face, watering eyes as you left your chair to look over the edge of the balcony at these boys. Heart pounding in your ears as he sighed. He was furious, he was angry…love had “weakened” him, was what Caracalla had lamented before. But in his eyes, it simply made him better for you. Being weak for one’s own wife was impossible.

Your head whipped to look at him as the smaller boy was bloodied and bruised. Whipped to the ground by his foe as Geta stood slowly for the crowd to see.

He lifted his hand slowly, glancing over at you as his thumb rested on its side. He would typically give a thumbs up, signaling the death of the weaker boy…but instead his thumb dropped. The crowd gasping at the young man being spared at the Emperors command.

Geta’s eyes flicked to you one last time. Seeing nothing but adoration in them as he dismissed his co-contributors frustrated muttering, walking off with you to your shared chambers as he hummed in your ear.

“You’re welcome…” he whispered as you rolled your eyes lightly at him. Kissing his cheek lightly as you closed the large doors behind yourself.

With your back to him, you slowly worked on unhooking the brooches of your chiton, letting the fabric pool at your feet as you worked on removing your sandals slowly. Hearing his movements stop, eyes on you as you grinned lightly over your shoulder.

“You have shown such monumental growth…and kindness…and change, my emperor…” you whispered as you stalked towards him. His breath shaky and heavy as he carefully nodded. “I am so amazed by you…” you murmured as he watched your hands making work of the fasteners on his own tunic. It slipping down his shoulders as you smiled.

“I want…to reward you,” you murmured into his ear. Geta was a man who worked on praise, adoration and reward. He needed something for every “accomplishment” he made. This time you’d give him something more.

He let himself be lied back on your massive bed, his cock slowly hardening. Pressed to his stomach. Cheeks and chest flushed as you hummed lightly to yourself. He deserved this, even if it was simple human decency…it was a major turning point for him.

You kissed along his jaw, down his neck, his chest. Lightly nipping at his flushed skin as you worked lower and lower. Pressing kisses down his stomach and licking along the light indentations of his abs before finally paying attention to his desperate cock.

Already twitching lightly, Geta was not a hard man to work up. Lightly pressing warm, open mouthed kisses along his shaft. Tenderly massaging his balls as he whimpered lightly at your ministrations. Following your movements with frantic eyes.

He shivered lightly as he felt your lips lightly wrap around his tip. Lazily sucking and stroking the rest of his shaft lightly. Having used your kisses from earlier as a bit of lubrication. Stroking in time with your slowly bobbing head. Every few moments getting lower and lower. Relishing on the velvety feeling of his thick cock against your tongue. Finally taking your hand away and placing it on his hip. The other taking his right hand and leading it to the back of your head as he trembled lightly. “My heart…please-“ his whisper wasn’t much more than a breath.

The lewd noises of you taking him deep down your throat, slowly sucking while hollowing out your cheeks. Obediently tending to his needs as you groaned desperately against him. Your free hand trailing downward to massage your own clit as he bucked his hips lightly.

“You tease me…” he growled out. “With your desperate hands, your heavenly mouth, your body on full display…you tear me into nothing but tatters of a man…and you relish in my desperation,” he hissed as you pulled your head off.

Stroking his cock lightly as you maintained eye contact with him. Your own blown out with need and want as you continued to tend to your own clit. Sensitive bud twitching under your small, circular motions. Geta’s eyes trained on simply you. Filled with nothing but love and obsession as he growled.

Taking your wrists firmly, he pulled your hands away from both of your own sensitive bodies. Working on lying you back as he pressed his lips to your ear. “You’re a temptress…and you’ll understand just how deeply I want for you…and you’ll give me my sons,” he hissed as he worked one of your legs up around his waist. Keeping one hand on your wrists, pinned above your head as he lined himself up with your wanting cunt. Slowly easing himself into you.

You could feel every vein, every curve. A desperate moan being ripped from you as you arched your back lightly. Geta’s soft laugh and heaving breaths the only other noise you could focus on. His mouth greedily kissing along your soft skin. Nipping at your shoulders and neck. Trailing down to your breasts. Lightly taking your left nipple between his teeth. Sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud while lazily rolling his hips. Breeding you on his terms.

“Fucking…mnghhh…you’re so good~” he mumbled between mouthfuls of greedy kisses. His thrusts short and swift. Though deep enough to give that knot in your stomach a bit of reprieve. Humming contentedly to himself as he watched your lust clouded eyes. “I can’t promise that you’ll be able to do much once im finished…” he murmured as he began to focus on his thrusts.

Deep and swift, pressing deep into your twitching cunt, your wrists finally free of his grasp as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. Holding him close as he fucked deeper into you. “It’s a blessing, to get to carry the future of our empire. Thank me for blessing you…” he growled out as he held your hips firmly. Your moans in time with his thrusts as you struggled to form a single coherent thought.

“Fuck!…thank you, for allow-…allowing me to carry your heirs, and the future of Rome!” Your voice cracked between moans as he laughed lightly. Working on bringing you to your orgasm as he hummed.

Your body felt like it was ablaze, each thrust causing that knot to unravel further and further. Whimpering in desperation and squawking desperately before letting your head fall back. His name spilling past your lips before feeling that knot come undone. Mouth falling open in incoherent babbles as Geta fucked you through your orgasm. Making sure you were thoroughly satisfied and gritting his teeth.

Unable to hold himself back much longer, his thrusts became short and swift before he hilted himself deep within you and came. His own mutters just broken up syllables of your name, trembling arms, and weak kisses along your skin. His body collapsing upon your own as he pressed hot and gentle kisses to your skin.

“I love you…” he murmured, allowing his eyes to close as you lightly combed through his hair. Your own growing heavy as you sighed.

“I love you too…”

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Pearl of The Realm

Aemond x wife!reader | HOTD Big Bang!

Summary: Duty meant a lot of things to Aemond. But he had hoped that it would not mean marriage. And when the day comes for him to confront it, he finds with his new wife, small, naiive and innocent, that there is some pleasure to be found there also.

Word Count: 9,240 (oops) | Warnings below the cut~

A/N: My fic for the HOTD Big Bang! Thank you to the lovely @solisarium for the artwork! 🥰 Please also support all the other lovely writers/artists over @hotd-bigbang, and thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for organising this event ❤

Warnings: arranged marriage, virginity loss, p in v sex, domination, corruption kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, canon typical sexism, aemond has a breeding kink (obvi), dark!aemond (ish)

Aemond Targaryen was nothing if not dutiful.

To the realm. His title. But most of all, his family.

As a Prince of the Realm, he had many duties.

For most of his adult life he had trained relentlessly with the sword, striving to become better than his own teacher.

He had buried his nose in books, absorbing  information from them, willing them to stick to the insides of his head to obtain intelligence unmatched by any other member of his family.

And, most of all, he had upheld his faithful relationship with his mother, whom he cherished dearly, and his sister equally.

He'd always felt close to the women in his life. But his mother had a special place in his heart. She had been through such hardships, such sacrifice.

And when she'd exploded that night in Driftmark, as inexcusable as she seemed the behaviour to be, he had felt such utter devotion towards her that she would be so angry on his behalf. At a time when he had felt so vulnerable, and felt that his own voice as well as hers had been ignored by the man in their lives.

A man who had so repeatedly, let them down.

He would never admit it out loud, but a part of him sought pleasure in the fact his father was largely bed-bound these days. Even more so that his own father had lost an eye as a result of his worsening condition.

It felt like the Gods were looking down on him and validating him.

But there was one duty he had yet to perform.

Taking a wife.

Unfortunately for him, that time was upon him, and he had no interest in it whatsoever.

As much as Alicent tried, and she really did try, she could not get her second son interested in courting the ladies at the Keep.

As soon as Aemond clapped an eye on the opposite sex, he would retreat in the opposite direction. Not even bothering to engage in conversation, surmising perhaps that he had little in common with them.

He'd never met a lady before who shared the same interests, why start actively seeking them out now?

Alicent's son was in his prime, rooted in adulthood, and she knew it was time, like it or not, that he was wed.

Aemond stood stock still, hands behind his back curled into fists, biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to show his mother the annoyance on his face. Her words were those of truth. He knew that he would eventually have to marry someone, but it did little to take the sting away from it. Often, while his mother talked at him, he looked down at his boots, shifting his weight from his right, to his left, and to his right, again, batting little thoughts in his head.

What his mother didn’t know is what those ladies at court said about him while they supposed his back was turned.

That he was of a violent disposition with a quarrelsome temper, one wrong movement or something as simple as a word spoken out of turn and he would dare not speak to the person in question for however long he deemed fit. That women thought of him as incapable of feeling something as beautiful as love, or even affection, given the sullen look he always wore, with barely-contained anger lurking beneath and an unexpressed pride in his position.

Aemond would never show that such words would have any effect on him with earnest. Sometimes it is better to not say anything at all, he concluded. This method had so often proven successful, it seemed little use to him to stray from it now.

He merely hoped that this woman his mother spoke of with such respect, was not one of the ladies at court.

And mercifully, Aemond sighed with relief that she was not.

Something struck deep within his chest. His mother spoke of her so wonderfully, as if she were a star plucked from the sky, and Aemond pondered if such attributes could be proven correct by simply meeting her once, as Alicent had. What woman, and of what standing, deserved such praise, after only meeting for a short time?

What would she look like? Her mannerisms, her stature, her smile? He found himself haunted by these thoughts without even knowing the woman’s name. Much less, her appearance.

He feared that she might share the same sentiments as the other ladies at court once they were due to meet, chaperoned by her ladies and tainted by their company. Perhaps they had their own opinions that they instilled on her also. She might be afraid of him, he thought. Maybe it is not so bad if she feared him, he allowed himself to think.

Aemond could not find it in his heart to expose himself so willingly to a stranger he was due to wed, and so when word reached the Keep that she had arrived and made her pleasantries, he thought to have mercy on the poor thing, stay clear and not dim her supposed ethereal presence with the darkness that followed at his back since the day he lost his eye.

There was some power in not allowing her to see him until their wedding day.

While a small part of him felt empathetic to the poor girl, that her betrothed chose not to greet her on arrival, another part of him was somewhat self-assured that he had made the right decision. It was the little power he felt he had.

When one thinks of a wedding, they might imagine the Sept beaming with joy, crammed with people all eager to feast their eyes on the new royal couple. But as Aemond stood before the Septon, with the extended feeling of nervousness at the fact she had yet to arrive, he could hear nothing.The Sept was dead silent. The people, the lords and ladies, as well as his family, were in attendance, watching with wide, curious eyes, too terrified to make a sound.

His hands were rigid behind his back, dressed in his finery, feeling the tightness of his clothes against his chest where his heart was hammering underneath.

For duty. For family.

He did not see her at first, as she was on his blind side, but once she’d well and truly stepped beside him, he spared a glance at her and felt his mouth go utterly dry.

Her dress, which he presumed were her house colours, was a light pastel, almost dream-like when combined with the translucent silky fabric graced atop it. He watched with curiosity as she let go of her father’s hand. Her gaze and almost undetectable smile was warm and inviting, as if the space around her was simply alight with her presence. Her father peeled the cloak from her shoulders, and it reminded him that he had the cloak with the Targaryen colours fisted in his grip.

Her hair was pinned up in a series of braids, all varying in size, and he was ashamed to admit that the first thought that came to mind was not that she looked beautiful with them, but that they must be uncomfortable. He was allowed to have his hair loose around his shoulders, whereas this woman, and he supposed others like her, were prodded and poked to look their best to the detriment of their comfort.

Aemond found it impossible to stare ahead and listen to the Septon, and he could’ve let a heavy breath loose when he was asked to cloak her. He swallowed over the lump in his throat that had formed and lifted his gaze to look down at her. Her bright, warm eyes looked up at him, revealing nothing about what she was really thinking, and her lips were full and looked soft, forcing him to think what they would feel like when they would sign their marriage with a kiss later.

He took a breath and placed the cloak on her shoulders, half thinking that such a heavy, large thing would swallow her whole, for her form was smaller than his, and therefore more delicate. Placing his hands on her, but not directly, still felt somewhat intimate, especially in a room of so many people watching. But something stirred deep within when he stepped back and observed that the colours complimented her, like she was meant to be his and belong to him.

They faced each other as the Septon spoke.

Aemond watched every micro-movement. The fluttering of her eyelashes, the deep intakes of breath through her nose and her thumb brushing over her hand, in what he could only assume was nerves, though she was hiding it well on her face.

It was only here that he noticed she wore a dainty pearl necklace, not at all gaudy in size, but small and delicate, like he perceived her to be.

A feeling he didn’t know hummed in his blood. And it showed when both of them were asked to conclude the ceremony with a kiss.

“With this kiss I pledge my love.”

Aemond had to be the one to lean down to meet her in the middle, and he felt his blood thrum when their lips met, excited to find that her lips were as soft as he had imagined. He could not help the lewd thought that passed through his mind, and wondered if the rest of her was as supple and luxurious.

Curse the wedding feast, he wanted to find out right after the ceremony.

He was not overzealous with the kiss, not wanting to frighten her. But he was equally delighted when they parted to the applause of the lords and ladies, to find that her cheeks were faintly bloomed with warmth. His lips pulled into an indistinct smile at the idea that he was the first man that would have made her feel that way, and it pulled a possessive string in Aemond’s body towards her.

He took her hand in his and led her away from the Septon, through the line of people, and relished in the fact that she was now his. Aemond felt somewhat ashamed when his manhood began to harden within his breeches at the mere touch of her hand, and wondered what hers would look like wrapped around it. If her fingers could barely encircle it, and if she would be good and pliant, do as she’s told, and please him.

The wine during the feast surprisingly did nothing to quell the hardness between his legs. He yearned so desperately for her, sat right next to him, posture straight and proper like a good lady wife, with her hands clasped so delicately in her lap. She had yet to say a word to him and he thought she must have been raised very strict, not speaking to her betters without being spoken to first, and now that person was her husband.

It was difficult not to look unimpressed when the various lords and ladies all queued up to provide their congratulations to the intimate little table he and his wife were seated at during the feast.

He watched his mother beam with joy, though he and his wife had not spoken. Aegon had snickered, clearly thinking something inappropriate. And Otto had bowed, offering congratulations as if he had not been involved in the match behind the scenes along with Alicent the entire time. Did he think he was stupid?

Not even his father had managed to pull himself from his bed to offer his congratulations. But, Aemond thought then, he was glad he didn't have to see his face.

At times he could suppress his sheer boredom and impatience, he wanted them all to leave him alone so he could fuck his wife and see what pretty sounds she could make. With the absence of her voice, it only made him more impatient to find out.

Surely, the girl might not have been afraid of him? He thought.

Aemond almost regretted hoping she was afraid of him, but there was some dull excitement in thinking she was, even now, with how beautiful she looked. When he takes her maidenhead, as he was sure she was entirely pure, would her soft eyes look up at him in fear, or in pleasure, or both?

He found his gaze wandering over her for several quiet moments, watching her profile as she scanned the hall, observing everyone else enjoying themselves. Whilst he appeared somewhat indifferent to her to anyone else’s untrained eye, he was otherwise calm and collected. Her lips glistened against the warm amber glow of the candles adorning the table, and he could not hide his delight in seeing how she swallowed nervously. She must have felt his gaze on her, he thought. And as he watched her throat bob, he was drawn to her chest, where the pearls lay, and watched as her breathing pushed her breasts somewhat over the bust of her dress.

He imagined those pearls dancing while he fucked her, her breasts moving with the rhythm of driving his cock into her sweet wetness. Her lips parted with hurried breaths as she struggled to gain it while she appeased him with the sound of her soft moans.

“Are the celebrations to your liking, wife?”

He smirked, testing the title on his tongue.

The insides of him glimmered in excitement when she turned, her posture still perfect and straight. Her wide, innocent eyes met his with curiosity, and also fright that he had spoken to her in such a way. She almost seemed to flinch at the new title he’d referred to her as.

She gave an almost indistinguishable nod, her grip tightening on her hands, “Yes, husband, thank you.” She replied with a wavering voice.

She studied him for a moment, watching as he gave a lopsided smirk, adoring the way she seemed so nervous in his presence, and speaking to her husband. He drank slowly, continuing to watch her squirm under his gaze. Her breathing had hastened, evident by the way she struggled under the tight confines of her boned dress.

Her voice was smooth, like the sweetest honey, and he couldn’t wait to hear how it would translate, echoing throughout their marital chambers, with his flesh pressed against hers.

He never imagined merely envisioning power over something so delicate could be so exhilarating.

Aemond had to hide how elated he was when their leave was announced. He stood, and therefore she did as well, like a delayed little shadow.

She was an obedient little thing, he surmised, as she followed quietly, willfully ignorant to the leering glances and smirks of the lords and ladies who parted a path for them. Every single one of them was curious, as to how such a quiet, soft girl could tame someone so fearsome and chaotic as a dragon prince, who could not be caged in as mere mortal men could.

The chambers seemed too grand, too clunky, to house such a perfect thing as her, he thought. She stood stock still in the middle of his chambers, which he would now share with her, and watched amused as she looked around and took in her surroundings as if she were in some kind of danger. Her pupils flitted about the darkened room, lit only in a warm glow from various candlesticks placed most deliberately.

Her pale dress cast a glow against the grey of the room, as well as her aura, which seemed to lift all the tension from his body and direct it to the place he had needed her the most since he laid his eye on her.

The glass decanter clinked as he poured himself a cup of wine, his back to her.

Aemond turned and extended the decanter only slightly, asking wordlessly if she would like one as well.

But she simply wringed her hands and shook her head, her body wracked with nerves.

Aemond only chuckled, cup of wine in hand and looked upon her, standing so diligently, where he’d left her.

“Wine might dull your nerves, my lady wife.” He mused, watching the way she looked down in embarrassment at being able to see inside her head so clearly.

Every now and then, she would peek over at the well made bed, like it was an inevitability, and not a place where she would share her most intimate and passionate moments with her new husband.

There was a dark red blanket held taught atop the pale sheets.

A warning.

There were never such dark, stark colours atop her bed sheets at home, and she wondered silently why they would choose such a menacing colour to adorn a place where you may lay your head to rest.

A peaceful night’s sleep. A moment’s passion. The birth of a child.

She thought, beds are where we are born, where we sleep, where marriages are made, where women give birth, which is often their last. And where we die. Not necessarily in that order.

Her husband may have thought a bed a peaceful thing.

But to her, many dangerous things may take place in a bed. And she had heard the stories of a dragon’s temper. Of lords, not necessarily of royal standing, taking their wives on their wedding night, whether their wives were willing or not. And this, is what she feared.

“You need not be so afraid.”

He tore her from her thoughts. And she blushed and felt warm all over realising he had caught her staring at the bed, her body betraying how nervous she felt.

When he looked at her, he felt his manhood throb. He wondered if the blood would rush to her cunny the same way it rushed to her cheeks, and how her flesh would cover her delicious curves beneath the softness of her gown.

He felt excited when she opened her mouth, forcing the air into her lungs like it took all her effort.

“May I ask for your assistance with my gown, husband?” She asked sweetly, with her eyes downcast.

Husband.

He felt his cock become impossibly harder.

He poked his cheek with his tongue in amusement, pushing himself off what he was leaning on and made towards her, watching the way she shrunk the closer he got. She turned slowly, showing him her back, where the laces of her dress were tied so tightly, he was surprised she had not asked him sooner.

While he worked on them, loosening the fabric around her middle, his breath hitched when he saw the shift underneath. She moved her hands to her hair, pulling several pins from it where the braids had been twisted together. She visibly shivered under his touch when the laces were undone and he pushed the stiff fabric apart across her back.

Her hair fell to her shoulders, and she used the sharpened tip of the pins to undo the braids into delicate wavy strands, all while unaware how her new husband marvelled at her out of sight.

She walked away from him for a moment to the vanity, never meeting the looking glass with her eyes, but simply placing the pins in a trinket bowl. With the gown loosened around her shoulders, the fabric lifted when she reached up to unclasp the necklace.

“Leave that on.”

She met his gaze in the mirror, questioning. Her cheeks alight with what he was suggesting.

But he didn’t say anything else.

So instead, she cleared her throat quietly, and pulled the heavy dress from her shoulders, folding it lengthways and draping it over an armchair. Her fingers clasped and unclasped, anxious. Aemond merely watched, his doublet feeling tight and hot against his chest. He could make out the silhouette of her form beneath the thin cotton, the candlelight illuminating her, as if her body was the soft and gentle morning sun, peeking over the horizon to set the day alight.

He heard her shuddered breath and allowed himself to think about what it would feel like against his neck while he rutted into her. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him closer to her, to sink deeper into her hot insides.

“I do hope that…I please you…with my appearance.” She murmured, turning with her body to face him from a distance. She sounded embarrassed, and shy.

Aemond furrowed his brows.

“Why do you say such a thing?” He asked, colder than he had meant to sound. And it’s clear that the tone of it made her shudder more, which he didn’t intend.

“I only meant that…I hope I am pleasing to the eye…and that I shall be obedient and supportive, as a good wife should be.”

He fought the urge to smile, not wanting to embarrass her further. His silence towards her had clearly given her the wrong impression. That he didn’t approve of her, and perhaps she thought that she wasn’t suitable for him because of his reaction.

“Come here.”

She did as he asked, albeit slowly, until she stood right in front of him.

“Are you afraid of me?”

Does my appearance scare you, he thought with curiosity, and panic.

Does my ailment make you uneasy, as it does the other ladies?

She shook her head softly, “No.” She answered quietly, “It’s just… my Septa said…that the night of consummation would be…” she trailed off, speaking too quietly for him to hear.

“It is alright. Speak again, without fear.”

She swallowed as she looked at him, having to crane her neck.

“She said…the night of consummation would be painful…and that it must be endured. As wives are to be submissive and obedient to their husbands.”

She spoke as if she were speaking from a line in a book. And Aemond thought she must have had this idea stamped into her brain from a very young age. It both concerned and irritated him to think that a young child, forming into a young woman, would be forced into being so terrified of such intimacy by a caregiver who ultimately knew little about marriage.

“There will be some pain.” He replied simply, watching the way she flinched at his words, “But I do not wish for you to endure it simply because you have been told to.”

His fingers came to the tresses of hair that hung on her shoulders, threading his fingers through them and revelling in their softness. Her eyelashes fluttered and her lips parted, absorbing his words, and he could see behind them that he was challenging everything she had ever been told.

“If there is pain, you must tell me.”

She inhaled slowly, gathering her nerves, and nodded simply.

“Come. Lay on the bed.”

Though he spoke softer, there was still a coldness to the way he gave his demands. But nonetheless, she did as he said, and stared up to the canopy of the bed, feeling her heart going so fast she was sure it would burst from her chest.

All she heard was the rustling of leather, the unlooping of his belt, and the clinking of his silver clasps.

She felt the mattress dip at the end of the bed and saw her new husband, without his doublet, but with his breeches only untied halfway, so she could not see a thing. But even so, the sight of a man naked on his torso had her heart still in her chest, and warmth crawl up to her cheeks. Aemond chuckled slightly, not wishing to embarrass her.

“Have you seen a man bare before, little one?” He asked, laying down beside her. She tried with the utmost effort to not stare at him, fearing that in some way she would anger him. His chest was well-muscled and pale, shimmering in the low light of the chambers and littered with many tiny scars that had silvered with time. His hair ran like milk over his shoulders, so silky it seemed to stick to his smooth skin.

She shook her head, and mouthed ‘no’. His manhood throbbed in his breeches at the thought that she had not even seen a man beneath his clothes before, and that he would be the first.

“It is alright, there is no need to be embarrassed.” He gave her a soft smile, trying his best to appear comforting.

But it could not be ignored that they were strangers, and it was his fault that he had not gone to see her before marriage and get to know her better. And on top of that, she was afraid, not of him, but that he might hurt her and that it would define her expectations for the rest of the marriage.

She flinched noticeably in shock, not out of fear, but at not having been touched so intimately, when his palm ran softly up her leg, taking her shift with it.

“Relax.”

She tried to do as he said.

She was so jumpy and nervous, Aemond wondered for a brief, funny moment, if she had even spoken to a man before today.

So he asked a question which he thought was almost silly to ask.

“Have you ever touched yourself?”

His question was answered immediately when she flushed and her face went all warm, and suddenly she was unable to meet his gaze. She shook her head softly. And instead of feeling bad for her, a devilish grin split across his face, all the blood going south.

She was so pious, and so devoted to the Seven, that she had saved any part of her inner desires for her husband to be.

He would be the first to give her pleasure of any kind.

To touch her intimately.

To make her feel as beautiful as he thought she was.

“It is alright. I shall show you.” He added softly, his voice like the purr of a cat.

She dared to look back at him as his hand trailed higher, dipping beneath the hem of her shift to touch her smooth skin beneath, “How will it feel?...”

“It may feel strange at first,” He answered honestly, “But after that, it should be pleasurable.”

She seemed to accept his answer, but her legs were pressed together almost instinctively, like her body was telling her it needed to appear smaller. His sharp nose pressed into her hair, inhaling her pleasant, female scent. His breath against the shell of her ear, hot puffs of air landing against her neck, where he began to place one, and then two open-mouthed kisses.

His eye wandered over her from this angle. Looking down her body, he could see the shadow of what lay beneath her shift in between her breasts as they moved with her breathing, which was slow and calculated. He could see how her hands held the bedsheets below her in her palm, not tightly, but prepared to pull on them if she needed.

She shivered with a shuddered breath when he kissed her, trailing his lips lower to her collarbone, past her string of delicate pearls, and he could see that beneath the cotton, her nipples had reacted to the chill of the room, but he liked to imagine that it was because of the way he was touching her so lovingly.

His hand completely slipped past where her hip met her leg, not touching her womanhood just yet, but close enough to feel its warmth. He felt the gooseflesh on her tummy as he trailed upwards, the shift bunched against his arm when his palm slid over her breast. She gasped softly as he squeezed tenderly, testing the weight of it in his palm and kneading it, and when he looked up to her briefly, she had closed her eyes.

He would tell her to open them later, after he did what he planned.

Her hips moved towards the mattress when his deft fingers dipped between her legs, the tips parting her folds to her entrance first, where Aemond began to feel the slick, as little as there was, gathered around it.

She was beginning to feel aroused even if she didn't know it.

She whimpered, pressing her lips together when she felt his fingers in such a strange, forbidden place. Her eyebrows furrowed in discomfort.

"Shh…" He cooed, the air brushing against her cheek, "Relax, dear wife."

She swallowed thick, and relaxed her thighs so that they weren't pushed together as much. The title he'd given her making her head feel as if it were full of air and nothing else.

A part of her felt bad. For she was supposed to be an obedient, pliant little wife, and he was taking care of her so diligently and she was still afraid.

"I apologise-"

"Do not apologise." He replied quickly, and her eyes opened, glistening with a new expression of understanding, "Only feel."

Her breath quickened.

Feel?

"Feel how I touch you here -"

He drew his fingers from her entrance to her pearl, drawing little soft circles using her arousal for ease. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes glued to him, a near-indistinguishable gasp falling from her lips. She began to feel a sort of ache, deep in her stomach that felt strange. And her hips began to move in micro-movements.

"This is where you feel the most pleasure." He whispered, his fingers moving sometimes directly and then indirectly over her pearl. At others, the anticipation of them being close to it had her hips searching for the touch.

"How does it feel?" He asked.

She struggled to think of a word, having never felt this dull and yet pleasurable rush to her core.

"Strange…pleasantly so."

He continued to move slowly, not making a direct effort to make her peak like this, just allowing her to feel what the touch of a man, the touch of her husband, could feel like.

"I will prepare you like this, so that there will be as little pain as possible."

Maintaining eye contact while he said things like that, while he did things to her like this, felt so intimate and so painfully domestic. As if nobody had bothered to care for her so much in her life. Her eyes curiously flitted between his seeing one and his eyepatch, not in fear, but wondering what he might be hiding beneath it.

It would not be removed this night. Or perhaps many to come.

Aemond's fingers moved over her womanhood with ease, more slick began to pool there and lubricate her puffy folds, swollen with arousal. She was wet, but he thought not prepared enough for his cock just yet.

He shifted his body down, his cheek grazing over her still clothed form, as if he was teasing himself. He could easily have asked her to be naked for him. But there was still trust to be gained.

Her eyes were questioning where he might be going. And she truly had no idea.

Using his knee, he settled between her legs, seeing the gooseflesh still there. His hands rucked up her shift, just pausing at the point where it would reveal her womanhood, all slick and ready for him. Her cheeks bloomed as she looked down at him, but didn't have the courage to question.

"Keep your eyes on me." He whispered lowly, his fingers pushing the fabric up so that he could see her cunt, so close to his face. And he was hit right then with the invigorating scent of her, like the sweetest perfume. He felt ashamed that even the scent of her aroused little cunny made his cock weep with arousal.

She looked more embarrassed than anything to have her new husband's face so close to her intimate area she had been taught to keep hidden. And it was hard for her to keep her legs apart. But she couldn't close them for fear of clamping on his head, and his hands were tenderly keeping them spread, his fingers only slightly indented in her supple flesh.

He looked down upon her, his thumb grazing her pearl again and watching with delight as her hips moved again, accompanied with a breath. It was simply too tempting, the idea of tasting her and the sweet nectar that leaked from within.

Holding her thighs, he leaned forward and flattened his tongue against her womanhood, and something primal was awoken inside when he finally tasted his new, little wife. He moved around her folds, and whenever he had to take a breath he placed an open-mouth kiss to it. He spared a glance up at her, and he hadn’t even heard her hurried breathing or tiny whispers of moans, so engrossed in tasting her for the first time.

Her cheeks were alight, her eyes torn between settling on his gaze and what he was doing to her. He had already told her to keep her eyes on him, and Aemond felt pleased that despite how embarrassed she was, she was obeying him.

Aemond redoubled his efforts, using his tongue to part her folds and nuzzling deeper against her, his nose rubbing gently against her pearl and using his wet muscle to dip against her entrance. It’s here that she gave some semblance of a proper moan, slipping shakily out of her throat, her hands tightening on the bed sheets.

He all but moaned against her cunt, delving into the deepest parts of her and dragging his tongue against the top of her velvety walls, trying to find out why she was the way she was. What made her feel the best. How he could make more of those pretty sounds tumble past her lips. He thought he could have spent all his life between her thighs, lapping at her arousal, and he would die a happy man.

In his grip, her thighs began to shake, and her brows furrowed like she didn’t understand what this feeling coursing through her veins was, this fire ablaze in her blood. Pride flooded his head, and he dragged his tongue from the inside of her to her pearl, where he drew circles over it. She jolted in his hold, as if he’d scared her, but he knew that it was because of the overwhelming feeling that was beginning to crest over her, and the uncertainty of it.

With his attention and efforts on her bud alone and she was suitably wet, he looked up at her when he touched her entrance with the pad of his finger. He heard her gasp when he slowly sank one digit inside her, he himself struggling to keep his composure once he realised just how tight she was around his finger alone. And he could barely think straight thinking about how she would feel wrapped around his cock.

He could forgive for the time being that her eyes were closed and brows furrowed, for the new sensation must have been strange for her. Something akin to a strangled whine rumbled from her chest when he was sank all the way inside, curling upwards. And when he brushed against that spot at the top of her walls, gently caressing the slick ridges, her back arched slightly off the mattress, and he smiled against her womanhood.

It appears his little wife was becoming emboldened in her movements by what he was doing to her.

As he continued to please his wife in two separate ways, almost instinctively, her hand came to his bare shoulder. To pull him close? To push him away? She wasn’t entirely sure herself.

He could tell she was on the precipice of something she was unable to comprehend, and was embarrassed to show herself in such an open way.

 “What is it, sweet wife?” he asked, drawing his lips from her, now covered entirely in her arousal when he licked at it.

Through her loud pants, she regained her breath as he continued to tease that deep spot inside of her, “What is…” She breathed, her grip closing around his shoulders. Her nails dug into his flesh, not meaning to, which made him smirk.

“Shh, it’s alright.” He cooed, pulling out slightly to slide a second finger inside, using the girth of his fingers to stretch her cunt around him, “I am just making sure you are ready for me.”

He began to pump his fingers inside her like he would fuck her, curling them up to focus his attention and pressure against the sweet spot at the end of her. She was so tight around him, already trying to suck him further inside and clenching hard. He felt his skin stretch around her grip on his shoulder, like she didn’t realise how hard she was holding him.

“ - Aemond - I’m - ”

Aemond.

The way she called him by his name.

There was no shame now in how hard it made him, and he felt as if he would spill right in his breeches and not inside her if she was going to say things like that.

A breathy whine made its way from her mouth, her eyes tightly shut as her face twisted in pleasure, feeling all the pressure leak into her limbs in bliss while Aemond kept pleasuring her, loving how her body was uncontrollably trembling with the force of her peak. He could feel the rush of slick coat his fingers and hand, so he slowed down the pace of his movements, allowing his sweet wife to savour the feeling she’d experienced here for the first time.

“That was your peak, little one.”

Her eyes opened to focus on him, feeling her body erupt in shivers as he pulled his digits from her and smeared her wetness over her thighs, thinking that as erotic and lewd the action was, that is excited her at the place where her husband had just been caressing with his fingers and tongue.

Her pupils were dilated only a bit larger than before, and Aemond felt pride in being the first to make her feel such things, awakening a part of her that had remained dormant for a long time. And while she had been emboldened by what he’d done to please her, her cheeks still bloomed with a faint embarrassment that he found endearing.

His hands traced her sides, taking her shift with it, and her breath hitched at the idea she would be entirely bare before her new husband, who had just given her the first experience of female pleasure. But alongside the trepidation, there was excitement.

Once he pulled her shift over her head and raked his gaze over every inch of her body.

It was a fucking crime that she’d been hiding herself under that gown all evening, he thought.

He thought she was perfection, with her soft and supple curves, and he hadn’t even realised his calloused hands had been kneading her breast until she let out a breathy sound. But she didn’t protest. She just appeared somewhat uncomfortable, as this was the first time she had shown herself so openly to the opposite sex.

“You are beautiful.”

She seemed to calm at least when he said that, relieved her husband found her attractive.

He saw her eyes flit from his one seeing eye to the eyepatch covered one, curious. But she simply swallowed thickly and didn’t say or ask anything. And he too was relieved that she hadn’t asked him to remove it.

He was not sure if he would be ready for that, for some time.

She still wore the little pearls around her neck, and now with her entirely naked with the exception of that, it felt erotic and arousing.

They were the same.

She wore the necklace, he wore the eyepatch, keeping a tiny piece of themself while they joined in matrimonial bliss.

He unlaced the rest of his breeches, watching her breasts move up and down as she breathed in anticipation of what was going to happen and the irreversible fact that she would never be the same afterwards.

“Remember what I said?” he asked, pulling his breeches over his hips. His achingly hard cock sprang free, standing proud and aroused against his stomach.

She took a moment to reply, trying not to stare too much at his member as he stroked himself slowly, the ruddy tip, weeping with arousal, poked out of his fist with every languid movement. She’d never seen one before. But all she knew was that she wondered how on earth it would fit inside her, he looked so thick and long, slightly curved to one side. Was there empty space inside of her she didn’t know about where he would place himself?

Her eyes met his, all glazed over, and she nodded.

“If there is pain, I must tell you.” She repeated what he’d said earlier. Her skin bloomed, for that moment was here right before them.

She tried to relax her body, numb from the force of her very first peak, as the mattress dipped either side of her where he’d leaned on his forearms, his knee brushing the inside of her legs as he nudged them apart so he could place himself there.

“Yes, you must.” He added tenderly, “It is not my intention to hurt you.”

The affection in his words made her stomach roll.

“You are my wife.”

She confirmed with delight that she was. And she nodded, not knowing what to say in response to his statement, but Aemond could see the subtle glimmer in her eyes.

He saw her glance at his manhood with something akin to a mix of fear and curiosity, and she took a sharp breath in as Aemond leaned forward, not pressing his weight on her, and placed several open-mouthed kisses to her jaw, neck and collarbone, teasing her with his teeth, while his cock kissed her puffy folds.

She felt his breath at her skin, her grip loosening on the sheets as he made her feel a little more relaxed.

When he leant forward, parting her folds easily with the aid of her slick, the first thought she had was that it felt strange, but nothing else in particular. It was only when his cockhead had disappeard inside her and he speared her upon his length that she began to tense up, her stomach tightening somewhat unpleasantly. Her hand came automatically to his chest, to try and push him away and make him stop.

He raised his head from her neck, his eye hooded down in concern. He felt her soft, almost-hummingbird-like touch on his chest and felt something fluttering inside of him at the tenderness of it. She was in some pain, not dramatically so, and yet her touch was so gentle.

Nothing was said, and only the utmost patience was offered. And it was difficult to do so for Aemond, with the way her core was holding him so tightly, to stay still and not move an inch. But for the sake of making her feel safe, he did it.

After a moment, she made an effort to relax her muscles for him. Her hand trailed over his muscled chest, as if taking this small window of opportunity to do so. Her fingers ran over the scars he’d gained on his lithe form, wanting to commit every ridge, every little piece of him to her memory as if it was the last time she’d ever see him.

Her eyes shifted to him once he sheathed himself inside her all the way, bottoming out with a low groan. He felt her walls fluttering around him, stretching her to accommodate this size, having not felt anything like this before. Her lips parted to let a soft pained sound past her lips, but that was all, and she felt the worst was behind her.

It felt only slightly uncomfortable, but she was willing to do it for this marriage. To please him.

It was intimate, looking right at her while he was deep inside her, and she gave the faintest of nods, telling him without words that she was alright. She thought she'd never felt more full in her life, nor more connected to someone as she was right at this moment.

It hurt at first, yes, but he had prepared her, waited for her and cherished her like she was precious. And the pain, the sting of losing her maidenhead, was a small price to pay for how full her heart felt, by giving a piece of her to him.

Closing his eye, as if to concentrate, Aemond moved almost entirely out of her to push back in as she gasped below him, the same feeling the second time had a spark licking at her insides that didn’t stop as he began his slow and careful pace. He wanted to tear his gaze off her, desperately, but couldn’t.

It was just as he imagined. With every soft thrust inside her, the pearls at her neck danced, and her cheeks were flushed, eyes shimmering. It wasn’t as animalistically lustful as he envisioned. Before he imagined an innocent thing like her, bending to his will, corrupting her in any way he saw fit.

But now more than anything as he listened to the gentle moans come out of her, he wanted to protect her, to nurture and watch her flourish. The pearls clicked against each other at her neck, her breasts moved, nipples pebbled with arousal, and she’d raised her legs only slightly to wrap around his waist, blinking slowly up at him.

The whore Aegon had gotten him to fuck on his thirteenth nameday was overzealous, large-breasted and older, perhaps more experienced. She had bounced on top of him, her loud moans bouncing off every surface in the room, her hands planted on his chest as she moved her hips up and down on him with loud slaps. He remembered feeling horrified that this is what intimacy was. That this is what men would desire so relentlessly.

It didn’t feel good. And he remembered feeling sick.

But here, with her, looking so lovingly up at him. No hysterical moaning, no pathetic whines to boost his male ego. Just unapologetically everything she was feeling, she was giving to him.

It felt like a gift. To experience real intimacy. And with the person he was due to spend the remainder of his days with.

As if realising he was daydreaming, his hips still moving against her with wet slaps of skin, her hand cupped his face, on the unmarred side, and her thumb stroked over his cheekbone. She touched him so softly he could have wept.

She had seen some kind of thoughtfulness on his face, and in the throes of consummation, was supporting him.

“Aemond.”

When she said his name with such sincerity and care, he blinked slowly and reached his hand up to hers, encircling his fingers around her small wrist, and turned his face into her palm, to kiss the inside tenderly. One kiss to her palm, and one to her wrist. And it felt more intimate than kissing on the lips, which he only now realised with shame, that he’d not done for her yet.

“I am alright.”

He looked at her when she said that. It was as if she could see all of his inner thoughts, and had been able to all evening.

She saw that he had been holding back.

He had been afraid of frightening her, and yet she was allowing him what he wanted.

Her breath caught in her chest with a kind of excitement as his fingers wrapped around her wrist and forced it down to the bed beside her head, his other hand joining her other to keep her pinned tightly under him to the mattress. Her eyes glimmered as she looked up at him, watching his expression change to something more possessive.

“Put your legs around me.”

She did as he asked and raised her legs around his waist, causing his length to brush that same spot inside her that he’d pleasured just moments before. And with an iron grip on her wrists and easier access to her, he dipped his head into her neck, her scent swirling around him and fucked her as he had wanted to the entire evening.

Skin slapped against one another with the moisture of her slick on his pelvis, his stones hitting against her repeatedly with every rough thrust into her wet cunt.

"Does my innocent little wife like to be properly fucked, hm?" He grunts, watching how she blushes and turns her head away out of embarrassment.

"I think you will continue to surprise me, little pearl."

She felt her insides clench at the name he gave her.

Little pearl.

Aemond smirked, increasing the intensity of his driving into her, constantly spearing her open onto his cock, and watching at the way he disappeared into her.

"I can feel you tightening around my cock. Did you like that? Little pearl?"

Her breath was sucked from her with each devastating thrust, and that same pressure was beginning to build in her belly, from when he'd pleasured her before.

"Answer me.”

"Yes - yes, husband - " She replied, breathlessly and gulping for air, throwing her head back against the bed sheets.

He smirked, leaning back and watching how his cock was being covered in her slick everytime he pulled out of her.

He pulled her hips onto his lap, and the angle had his cockhead bullying her tender and sensitive place deep inside of her. Her eyebrows furrowed with pleasure, feeling utterly at his mercy.

Feeling proud of the reactions he was getting, his hand slipped from her hip to her bud. Her pearl. A grin splitting across his face at the lewd thoughts he was having. He circled her sensitive bud tenderly, applying just enough pressure that she clenched around him again.

If she wasn't careful, he would cum right there and then.

"Does that feel good, little one?" He teased her in a low tone, not ceasing his endless pace, pushing himself as far inside her as he could.

"Do you like it when I touch you here?"

She couldn't deny she liked it. The way her back arched, being pleasures in two ways. It was nearly overwhelming. And it took her voice from her.

"Perhaps we should name you Pearl of the Realm." He smirked, increasing both his pace and pressure, "Prim, proper…a good little obedient wife to her lord and husband."

He leaned over, changing the angle yet again.

"But in here, with me, it is this pearl I shall be paying special attention to, dear wife."

His words made her tighten around him, coupled with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving her. She felt her entire body get hot, the pressure in her belly set to explode at any moment.

His delicate and careful ministrations to her bundle of nerves was almost too much, and her hips began to move forward towards his in rhythm with his cock stretching her open, meeting him halfway.

She didn't imagine such lewd words would have an effect on her.

"Husband - "

"I think I will keep you like this. All night if I have to. Paying special attention to this precious pearl you have been neglecting for so long." He mused, his words were strained, as if set to explode himself.

"I will give you my seed. Over and over. Until I am done with you." He breathed through heavy pants, his eye slipping shut, "I will watch you swell with my child. Would you like that?"

She could only whimper in response, fisting the bed sheets as she had nothing else to hold onto, her mouth dropping open as her climax began to crest.

"I would like that. To see these perfect tits all round and full."

The idea of bearing his children was only a fantasy that appeared right at that moment.

"Gods - you are so tight - such a perfect little cunt - fuck - "

She fell apart around him, her entire body filled with such eternal feeling bliss that she felt as if she were floating, her husband's deft fingers still pleasuring her bud.

Her limbs felt numb, her blood like fire under her skin and her lips dropped apart so that a shattered moan could escape her, the only proof that her peak was decimating every nerve in her body with blinding, white hot pleasure.

She tightened impossibly around him, and the pistoning of his cock into her sex was only stilled when he slammed inside her one last time. His length throbbed within her, his spend warming her core at the end and filling her, completing this sacred, intimate ceremony.

They both gulped down air desperately and when Aemond had caught a moment to himself, he spared a look down at his sweet wife, her delicate skin covered in a soft sheen of sweat, eyes shut, breasts shifting erratically with her breathing.

She must have felt his gaze on her, because she turned her head to look up at him. In her once innocent and naive gaze he once saw fear and trepidation. And now her pupils were blown wide and glimmered with lust and a kind of pride that she'd pleased him, and they'd done this together.

Aemond still had a grip on her hips, noticing the red marks where his fingers had been. Her body was littered with them, where he'd been too tempted to nibble at her, to make sure she bore the marks of his passion for her.

He looked down where they were joined, pulling out of her and watching with a lustful curiosity at his spend that leaked from her entrance. It was instinctual, the way two fingers scooped up what had come out, and he gently plunged it back into her as far as he would go.

Overstimulated and tired, she winced, bucking her hips slightly.

Aemond only smiled down at her.

"I can hardly wait to make you a mother, little one."

She laughed a little, exhausted, "You speak of children. We have only lay together once."

Aemond took her reply and smirked, pulling her thighs close to him again.

"In that case - might we try again? I dare say I have already forgotten the first time."

His little pearl smiled tenderly up at him. A safe smile. One of utter adoration. It was like he was being seen, truly seen, for the first time in his life. She had been so good to him in the short time he'd known her, and cared enough to let him see her as well.

He felt fulfilled in a way he never had before. Something exciting ran through his blood, like how he felt whenever he trained. As if a new challenge were upon him.

Challenging the notion that had been placed upon him his entire life, that marriage was about ownership. As a wife should belong entirely to her husband.

And while he felt that sheer possessiveness before he really knew her. Knew her properly.

Now, he questioned if marriage was more about respect than anything else.

The fabric covering his eye now felt so heavy. And one day, he thought, he hoped to be able to show himself so openly to her, as she had done for him.

Aemond Targaryen was nothing if not dutiful.

And he would pay his little pearl all the attention she so deserved.

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[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Head Canons:

My Kind Of Love

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Fem Reader

TW: arranged marriage/ forced relationship, yandere, stalking, etc

You were the adopted daughter of another yakuza family, one that was engaged to Hanayama Kaoru since birth. Your fate long decided for you…

Hanayama wasn’t a bad person per se, for the son of a yakuza family. The only issue was that he hardly spoke. Nope. Hanayama often stared at you while you did all of the talking… he was a silent yet intimidating presence. Especially as the two of you grew older.

As a child, he’d often sit beside you. You used to think he was shy, so you’d talk with him in a soft tone. You were gregarious compared to his taciturn self. Yet you never made him feel unwelcome so he would always turn up for every ‘play date’ your parents set up. It made you think he tolerated you… how wrong you were.

When he grew old enough to get his back tattoo, he had spoken to you briefly. “I have something important to do, but I will be back.” You had thought that was odd, but you smiled at your fiancé. “Okay, Hanayama. I’ll be waiting for you then so be safe.” You thought it was kind of cute how his ears turned pink… who knew he could blush.

When you saw him again, you were shocked by all of the scars that littered his body, yet you didn’t nag him. No, you simply held him and smiled at him. “Thank you for keeping your word.” You failed to notice how his heart hammered in his chest when your fingers lightly traced over the scabs on his face. “Those will be some pretty gnarly scars, but they’ll make you look cool.” You had no idea what you did to this man…

When his mother’s health began to deteriorate, he had you at his side. He was such a large teenager, yet he looked so small when he’d fold himself up into your lap. You often ran your fingers through his dark locks and softly reassured him. He still hardly spoke, but you finally caught him with a small smile on his face.

When his mother passed, he was prone to bursts of anger yet he never showed that side of himself to you. No. You were precious to him… more precious than anything in the world. And you deserved to be protected and pampered. He began to seek advice from Kizaki about romance after that.

Now that the two of you were in your twenties, he’d often pull you into his lap. He still hardly spoke but he would make you be near him in anyway possible if the two of you were alone. It was quite odd.

Sometimes you’d swear you would spot his men trailing behind you if you were out and about, yet they were gone when you’d turn around. There was no way your stoic fiancé was stalking you… right?

He’d gift you bouquets of roses and invite you out to dinner with outfits he’d pick out. You would receive handwritten notes of love that borderlines obsession. There was no way Hanayama wrote those, you didn’t even know if he actually liked you. Hanayama hardly spoke after all…

His stabs at romance were interesting to say the least. Hanayama’s actions were loud. His gifts were extravagant and borderline gaudy, yet you didn’t mind. You were engaged after all. And that wedding date was rabidly approaching…

The wedding was grand, large, and heavily guarded. And Hanayama’s hand tightly gripped yours in an inescapable hold. It was nerve wracking to say the least.

And the minute it was time for that honeymoon, you were rushed off quickly. Hanayama practically dragged you to the suite, his breathing ragged, his scarred face flushed, and his black hair a bit disheveled. Was he okay? You’ve never seen him so expressive.

It wasn’t until he had you all alone that he began to rip at his clothes like a madman. You barely had the first button undone before he was on you. His fundoshi the last garment on him. His lips eagerly pressed against the side of your neck.

“Hanayama? We really don’t have to-“ your voice was stuck in your throat when he pulled away to stare at you with his dark eyes.

“I’ve waited so many years to hold you like a man.” Hanayama muttered. “I’ve held back for so long and now you’re finally mine.”

You’re peppered with more impatient kisses while his thick fingers made quick work of your wedding dress. “I love you so much, my beautiful wife.”

How were you to know that your fiancé actually loved you this entire time? Not to mention, how sore his kind of love would leave you after tonight…

[vivalarevolution]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓑𝓮𝓷𝓮 𝓖𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓽

Request: „Lady Margot is sent to Giedi Prime to seduce Feyd Rautha, yet na-Baron doesn't give in to temptation, showing how much he loves his wife and how far his obsession with her truly goes.‟

A/N: Request from @hskskdk , the request itself was slightly rephrased by myself but the context remained the same. Nevertheless, I hope you will all like it and you'll enjoy reading it.

Please remember that english is not my native language and mistakes might happen.

Work contains smut , minors do not interact.

The Bene Gesserit was a female order constituting one of the most important pillars of the Empire. They were devious , cold and remarkably exalted. They struck fear as much as they did awe.

Yet in the eyes of young na-Baron, they were nothing more than witches manipulating the weak minds of even weaker men.

But that changed. She changed it.

She was one of them. She was just as manipulative, just as devious. Yet one look from her was enough to make Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen bend to her will.

She became his wife, his lover, his goddess. He was willing to kill for her, to cause suffering to those who were against her.

When lady Margot Fenring tried to break him the same way , make him hers , she failed. Because she wasn't her. She never could've been.

And with her failure came the raw rage of her sister.

-First you enter my house uninvited and then you have the audacity to try seduce my husband when my eyes are not focused on him- she said in a cold and harsh tone , looking at the older woman.

-I am not obliged to explain my actions to you Y/n - she replied, looking directly into the eyes of her younger sister -Because you know that the actions of our order have a greater purpose.

-And yet here you are - na-Baroness remarked.

-I'm here because you failed my dear sister - Lady Fenring said , her face still remained stoned and unmoved- In the place of the male heir there are three daughters. To have one child like that is a mistake but to have three is an insult.

Feyd Rautha's wife looked at her with composure , but her blood was boiling like wildfire , ready to burn everything in its path.

-Bene Gesserit needed me to give birth to a son. But my husband wanted daughters - Y/n proclaimed , walking slowly towards the blonde-haired woman - I gave them to him and I plan to give him as many daughters as he wants because it is my husband who has control over me. Only him.

-Even if this is what you allow yourself to believe , don't you think that eventually the need for a male offspring will occur? - she asked her - Feyd Rautha is still a man , a man who is the heir of the Harkonnen House. His love for you will fade away.

-His love for me is dangerous - Y/n declared - But it is not dangerous for me. It is dangerous for others - she whispered , standing in front of her sister - He is ready to kill for me , he is ready to destroy everything my heart desire - she confessed, looking into her blue eyes - He has already done it…and he will do it again, all it takes is a mere word from my lips. His love will not fade away…it will only grow.

-Are you threatening me? - asked Lady Fenring , looking closely into the eyes of the na-Baroness.

-I warning you - she answered, measuring her with a disdainful look - I suggest you go to your chambers dear sister. Do not continue to tempt the creatures in the shadows who are watching you.

Her words were not commanding, but their hidden meaning made the woman walk away, leaving Y/n Harkonnen with her husband, who had been watching her in the darkness since the beginning of the conversation, following her like a hunter follows his prey.

-Do you wish me to kill her , my darling? - he asked , approaching her slowly , watching her intensely.

-You cannot - she replied , closing her eyes when his large palms rested on her body.

-She disrespected you , she insulted your children and tried to seduce your husband - he whispered , kissing her neck -You have every right to kill her. I will do it for you , just say the word my beloved- he said , capturing her face so she would leveled gazes with him.

She looked at the male for a long time , having a silent discussion with him, but no matter how much she tried to deny it ,her decision was made long ago , even before her husband had spoken.

-I want the life to escape from her eyes - she demanded - But I want her to wait, I want her mind to be filled with nothing but the awareness that she won't live to see the next morning - she said, sliding her hand along na-Baron's torso - And I want her to hear exactly how great your love for me is and what she can never have - she whispered sensually into his mouth - I want you to make love to me - she announced quietly, kissing his pale, full lips.

Feyd pulled her into his arms. His possessive grip left marks on her that she never wanted to get rid of.

He took her to their chambers. His hungry mouth could not refrain from tasting her soft flesh , marking it with blue marks. The woman in response tilted her head , exposing her neck , so that his teeth and tongue could have fuller access to her. He attacked the exposed patch of her skin almost immediately, relishing in the taste of his beloved , trapped in his embrace.

His wife allowed herself to close her eyes , giving herself over to the arms of pleasure. His kisses made everything inside her cease to exist , only raw hunger remained.

When the man moved away from her body , and her back met the cool satin sheets , her gaze rested on him , and her brow furrowed.

She wanted him close , she needed him close.

Grabbing his neck with her hand, she pulled him towards her , bringing their lips together again. Their tongues moved in a passionate dance , as their teeth rubbed against each other , and saliva lazily ran down their jaws.

His hands destroyed the clothes between them , as his teeth marked each new piece of her skin with his teeth . Her legs wrapped around his waist , feeling his thick, veiny shaft rubbing against her wet and trembling womanhood , and as he entered her , assaulting her insides , she drove her long nails into him ,scratching them across his pale back , leaving an angry red trail behind.

Feyd bit down hard on her neck , savoring her sweet blood. In response , she grabbed his hand, bringing it closer to her throat , needing to feel more of the pain which mixed so deliciously with pleasure. And the man immediately knew what the woman wanted from him.

He squeezed the skin of her neck , restraining the access of air to her lungs , smiling sinisterly as he felt her body tighten , and her climax approaching drastically fast. Her eyes rolled back , and the image before her became blurry as her body was flooded with rough pleasure , that only her husband could give. Moaning loudly ,she felt his hot cum fill her , running lazily down her thighs , staining them black.

Na-Baron kissed the red , soft lips of his lover , tasting her with extraordinary tenderness as well as possessiveness.

-My knives are yours. My life is yours. My love is yours. My blood, my body, my riches, all these belong to you - he vowed to her ear , kissing its lobe - You have bewitched my body and soul and there is no one who can take me away from you.

The woman smiled gently , stroking his jaw with her fingertips.

-I believe you my husband - she stated , looking deeply into his blue eyes.

-Rest now my wife- he muttered at the hollow of her neck where he placed a single kiss - Rest because when you wake up I will make sure that you leave the chambers with another daughter under your heart.

She obediently followed his command , allowing sleep to envelop her exhausted body. And when she finally awoke , she was met with the sight of her husband.

He was covered in blood , kneeling in front of her lying figure , holding in his hands the head of Lady Margot Fenring.