#proudly escorting his wife

[britanniabay]

[alderaanplacesss]

After the events of Veilguard, Rook and her companions become quite famous over Thedas. They’re spoken about in ways that will one day become lore, like the legend of the Inquisitor and the immortal wolf who loved her.

But they also have lives, and families, and normalcy to return to. And what isn’t as famous at first, is Rook’s sweeping romance that started at The Lighthouse.

It isn’t until she starts showing up at the back of Mourn Watcher lecture halls, or is spotted frequently in Nevarran gardens that people start to gossip.

Rook is hard to miss; the person who fearlessly commanded Elven Gods to stand down definitely has a presence. She doesn’t fit the mold of a student, and she certainly isn’t in need of instruction. No, her sudden and frequent appearances to The Necropolis are for something else entirely. Someone else.

Emmrich does anything but hide it. He’s madly in love with his scandalously younger girlfriend. The professor blushes when students ask him about their epic tale, happy to gush about his beloved Rook. He has a framed portrait of her on his office wall, where he can sometimes be found writing her love letters when she is away. Emmrich escorts her on his arm when they walk through the halls of the college, always making time for her.

One day, the couple is spotted in the cemetery during Emmrich’s lunch break, and Rook is wearing a gorgeous black diamond on her ring finger. The future Mrs. Volkarin, is how he proudly refers to her now. Sometimes it is My beloved fiancee. He can hardly wait for it to be My Darling Wife.

The day they marry, all the wisps in the Necropolis dance and chime so brightly that the dark city is filled with a constellation of spirits. It’s a sight to behold - a rare and beautiful thing that is talked about for years to come.

[22ayla21]

I love your family fics 🥹 I don't think I'd want any kids of my own irl but I really enjoy reading fics about my favorites becoming parents and supportive husbands. I hope it's ok to request a fluffy family fic with Silver where they (family including children and Lilia) are awaiting the birth of their youngest?

Anticipating a New Miracle

The family was soon to grow, and everyone was happy for the little one, no matter who was born.

Their house near Wildrose Castle was simple yet cozy. Silver hadn't chosen it by chance: away from the city bustle, amidst picturesque hills, overlooking dense forests, where one could only enjoy the birdsong and the soft rustle of the wind. This was where he wanted to create a true family hearth, a place they would always long to return to.

On this day, a special atmosphere filled the house – not just peace, but joyful anticipation.

Silver sat by the window, admiring his wife, who, despite her rounded belly, still looked as beautiful as on their wedding day. Her movements retained their usual grace, now tinged with caution – an awareness of the new life growing within her.

Their little daughter sat beside her mother, listening attentively to her quiet words. Occasionally, she would gently touch her mother's hands, then excitedly press her ear to her belly, hoping to hear or feel something special.

"It's moving!" the little girl exclaimed joyfully, her eyes wide.

Silver smiled, rose, and approached them. He knelt, reached out to his wife, and carefully placed his hand on her belly. Warmth, barely perceptible movements – his son or daughter was already making their presence known.

At that moment, the door creaked open, and Lily entered the house. He was as nonchalant as ever, but his eyes shone with genuine joy.

"Looks like someone's about to become a big sister," he remarked, sitting beside his granddaughter and lightly ruffling her hair.

The little girl proudly lifted her chin. "I'll be the best sister ever!"

Lilia chuckled and glanced at his son. "Silver, do you realize you'll have two now? Are you ready for sleepless nights, even more mischief, and surprises?"

Silver looked at his wife, at their daughter, and again felt that incredible warmth spreading through his chest.

"I am," he simply replied.

Lilia smiled, but there was pride in his eyes. "Good answer."

The evening flew by in conversation, in the soft candlelight and quiet family comfort. The little daughter, overflowing with joy, finally fell asleep, snuggled against her father. Lilia, despite his age, still had plenty of energy and happily shared stories from the past, until his daughter-in-law's eyelids began to droop with weariness.

Silver escorted her to the bedroom, helped her settle in, and then sat beside her, touching her belly again.

"We're waiting for you," he whispered, stroking her skin with his fingertips.

And somewhere inside, as if in response to his words, the tiny life made its presence known again with a gentle nudge.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

one step closer

cw. f!reader (no pronouns or specified anatomy), pre-canon, pre-relationship, childhood friends, slightly(?) obsessive behaviors, slight angst

pairing. tartaglia x reader

synopsis. your mothers always swore one of their children would marry one day, making them both officially sisters. but for now, they'll take ajax escorting you from mondstadt to sumeru to pursue your education

notes. a christmas present for my good buddy @hash-slinging-slasher-trash. an unexpected comradery was built up between us both this year, so let's have fun in the new year! they recently got into genshin this year and, unsurprisingly, they've been bagged by mr. 11th fatui harbinger himself hehehe

"You didn't have to come all the way here for this."

"And break my promise to my beloved aunt? Perish the thought!" Ajax gasps aghast, clutching his invisible pearls. "Besides, why would I miss a road trip with my future wife? The two of us. Alone." Playful blue eyes glance your way accompanied by an equally playful smile. You give him a pointed look and Ajax raises a hand defensively. The red insignia pinned to his shirt glints in the sunlight at the movement. "I kid, I kid. Just a joke. We can save that stuff later."

"Or never," you reply without missing a beat.

"I draw the line at waiting until after our wedding night."

"You're incorrigible," you groan.

Ajax can only laugh, eyes closed and grin wide. When he's like this, he's like the Ajax you remember from when you were children. The boy who unabashedly declared he'd marry you in one of your earliest memories. Your mothers were only too happy to indulge him, long since having their own jokes about how one day their children would marry and make them officially sisters.

That had been how many years ago now?

Too long ago to recall. You simply know it had been the first time Ajax's family had come to visit your own in Mondstadt. It became a yearly tradition from before either of you were born for your families to visit one another.

According to your mothers, they became friends your mother's first trip to Snezhnaya. You'd been raised on a healthy diet of your mother's travels, your mother telling them to you much like they were old folktales. She told you about the various shades of the thunder sakura of Inazuma. How she spelunked in Natlan with a few friends you can't remember the name of. Even regaled you with dramatic stories of Fontaine's Opera Epiclese where she witnessed trial and opera alike and what she swears was a love story bubbling under the surface between the Hydro Archon and her Iudex.

All of those stories paled in comparison to her most harrowing tale of surviving a month long blizzard that ended with less importantly, your father, and more importantly, your mother's now lifelong friend.

That was all took for their future families to be intertwined and for Ajax to be a present as constant in your as the bards of your homeland.

A summer in Mondstadt here, a winter in Snezhnaya there.

A Ludi Harpastum there, a Krsnik Noc here.

You distinctly remember Kaeya's first Windblume Festival after the Ragnvindr's took him in. He was more quiet and would cling to the figures he found most familiar, you included. Ajax hated it. Unfortunately his complaints and intense nature only led to your coddling Kaeya more, scolding the ginger for being insensitive. Presently, Kaeya and Ajax's relationship has improved little.

Ajax has been there for many a life event.

Now here Ajax is, your official escort on the first day of your own journey. It was the only way your mother would relax about your finally leaving the nest. You find it absurd your mother could travel the whole of Teyvat with nothing but a knapsack slung over her shoulders and a pack of cigarettes but Celestia forbid you decide to do the same. It isn't even exactly the same!

At Ajax's insistence, your things were already waiting for you in Sumeru. "My men can take it ahead," he boasted proudly, reminding you of his recent promotion. "It's no problem at all, honest. Save your money!" Your protests were promptly ignored, your mother more than happy to save on the mora she would have had to spend mailing it otherwise.

"Ajax, I'm serious," you remind him for the millionth time as the Dawn Winery slowly but surely grows more and more distant. Even with Diluc and Kaeya's strained relationship, they both insisted on having a celebratory breakfast before early in the morning before you left for Liyue. You wanted your quest to be on foot as much as possible before boarding a boat that would take you from Liyue Harbor to Port Ormos. "I don't want you guys in uniform when you move my things in. I don't want to be known as the Fatui girl at the dorms."

"Relax, relax," his words due to little to soothe you. "Seriously," his tone shifts from impish to straight-laced. "I know better than anyone how the Fatui is viewed abroad. I know you worked hard to get into the Akademiya, so I don't want to ruin that for you."

You hold each other's gaze for a moment longer before you sigh in relief. "Thank you." Another beat passes before you say it again, "seriously, thank you. You didn't have to take time off to come all the way to Mondstadt. And it means a lot to Mom too. You being here helped her calm down a lot."

His lips relax into a smile that's small, "of course I'd be here for something like this. It's a big deal! You've wanted to go to the Akademiya since we were kids. Is Erna going to be there or is she still in Fontaine researching water vein flowers or whatever?"

You nod excitedly, "yeah, she said she wants to show me around when I get there. She's gonna meet us at Port Ormos." Another piece of the puzzle in helping your mother acclimate to your studying in another country. "She's only staying for the week though."

Erna, a cousin of yours had gotten in years ago leaving little Springvale behind to see the world beyond the wind-caressed hills you grew up. Busy as she'd become after getting into the Amurta Darshan, when she was able to come home it was her turn to tell you stories about a world you couldn't imagine for yourself.

The fanciful cafes with their majestic fountains, the smell of spices of a place called Treasures street. It's hard to believe you'll finally be seeing it for yourself after so long.

"Think she'll be happy to see me?" Ajax asks suddenly, observing you carefully as you

Your cheeks hurt as your smile becomes something forced. "Well," begin.

Ajax barks out a laugh immediately, "you don't have to lie, I know she's not happy I'm in the Fatui." He sighs as the last of his laughter leaves him, nonchalant and unsurprised. You wonder, not for the first time, what would be enough to make Ajax the young man shocked or hurt. Considering how you heard his enlisting in the Fatui at the young age of 14 had gone, you doubt anyone's reaction to his being an agent can get under his skin. "Not that Auntie is thrilled either. I suppose these are the struggles of those in the pursuit of strength."

You refrain from affirming his suspicions. Your mother isn't thrilled but she refrained from expressing the opinion knowing she had little to stand on when her former husband had been a Fatui agent once upon a time. "If that boy's own father couldn't keep him from enlisting, I doubt anything I say will make him change his mind." The next time you saw your old friend after his enlisting, he surprised you for a visit when work led him to the land of freedom.

For the second time in the past ten minutes, your eyes look at his the red insignia pinned on his shirt. He's a lieutenant now.

He's moved up the ranks faster than you can blink. It's expected, you believe, with how many of his letters recounting his many assignments and achievements he'd sent.

"Staring at your beloved so shamelessly?" Cheeks warm, you push him aside. The movement does little to make him budge and he laughs when you try again. "Sorry, snookums, that's not going to work on me anymore. Don't let my acknowledgment stop you. Stare away! I'm pretty popular, y'know. Someone'll steal me off the market if you're not careful! We should have the wedding the moment we get to Sumeru! Why wait actually, we should turn back now and head to the Church!"

Your eyes roll into the depths of the Abyss, "we're not going back to the City for a wedding. We're not even dating."

"Yet."

"And I wasn't staring at you," you ignore his jest. "I was just looking at your badge. You have a new one every time I see you." A new insignia with a new scar or two or dozen to match. He has a story for each one, remembering every occasion he's earned a battle scar with crystal clear memory.

You remember how he's the same boy whose father would take the both of you ice fishing, telling you stories of heroes. Stories of his own adventures before he settled down to have a family. You never had the patience for fishing but you loved that man's tales.

The hobby has lost its magic since your friend became a soldier for the Cryo Archon. Ice fishing is simply another form in which he trains, reflecting on battles past as he endures the bitter cold. Now there are no more stories.

Ajax gestures at your the chain around your neck where your Anemo vision hangs with pride. "It's a badge of honor, much like the one you have yourself."

It's not quite the same, you want to say. "We're already almost to Liyue," you announce instead, pointing at the small bridge in the distance. "It's hard to believe it's always been so close to the Winery." You remember how it was a test of courage when you were younger. Diluc leading the charge, he dared the rest of you to see who could walk the furthest into Liyue. He'd always been the winner, you, Jean, Kaeya and Barbara unable to match Diluc's bravery.

He's a far cry from the rambunctious troublemaker he used to be.

"One step closer," Ajax notes warmly, accepting your change in topics with ease. "There's a tea shop at the Stone Gate you'll like called Pop's Teas. We should sit there a while, you can see the whole of the Dihua Marsh and the inn we'll be staying at."

That brings a genuine smile to your face, "I look forward to seeing it."

A thinly veiled comfort of silence falls over you both grass and gravel crunch underfoot. Your hands swing between you both and from the corner of your eye, you see blue peering at you. The back of your hand burns and you ignore the feeling swiftly.

It's Ajax, simply Ajax.

Soon enough after you arrive in Sumeru, you'd be going your separate paths again. You studying the stars, him on whatever harrowing assignment he is given. A far, far cry from the children you once were.

"They're going to make me a Harbinger."

The silence shatters much like ice and you blink, blood suddenly as cold as the waters of your friend's home country. "What?"

He says it as casually as one addressing the state of the weather. You halt your steps right at the edge of the bridge that connects the land between Mondstadt and Liyue, staring at Ajax's back. "This isn't ambition talking either," he halts, chuckling as he turns to face you. "It's official. Once I go back to the motherland, there'll be a ceremony and everything. You're the first I've told."

"A Harbinger," you repeat incredulously. "A Harbinger?"

The young man nods, "the youngest in the history of the Fatui." It's said with subdued pride, only a dash of satisfaction. "Of course, this was all part of the plan to conquering this world so it's not that big a deal. I'm just one step closer."

You open your mouth only to close and open it again. Your hands clasp together, fingers fidgeting as you search for the correct words to say. Congratulations? Wow, you really will be wearing another badge the next time I see you. You're really moving up the ranks!

"Not happy for me," it isn't a question as Ajax observes your furrowed brows and hunched shoulders. You lower your head, finding a nearby cryo slime bouncing on the water's edge grounding. "It's alright, you don't have to be. It doesn't change anything between us."

"When is it going to be enough, Ajax?" Your question is quiet. "What happened to you?"

'Ajax went missing for three days this month. He had the entire household in a tizzy, that boy of mine!'

You remember receiving that letter after you recently turned 15 from Ajax's mother.

Ajax has wrote you religiously since he could hold a pen. That was the one month he didn't.

The letters that followed have never quite been the same. He's never been quite the same. His eyes are duller than you remember. His lust for adventure had turned bloodthirsty.

How could someone change so much in three days?

"This has always been me," Ajax tells you without much else of a reaction. "You know me, I've always wanted to go on an adventure."

"An adventure, yes, but never this," you shoot back, fervently. Back then, Ajax happily brandished a wooden sword and would declare he'd be the world's greatest adventurer. He'd join the Adventurer's Guild and make a name for himself, fight a dragon and give you all the mora he gained. "I just," you pinch your sinuses.

The only sounds between you are ones from nature.

The croak of a frog, the gushing of a waterfall.

Ajax breaks the silence, head on as he always has been. "We're still friends, aren't we?"

You look up at the man, looking at you with eyes a mixture of familiar and unknown. You used to be able to read them as easily as breathing. Sometimes you feel as if you still can. That he's still your Ajax, face round with innocence and wonder. Now he is as mysterious as the heavens themselves.

Still you release a breath and nod, "of course we are. You're still Ajax."

A smile spreads across his face again and he looks familiar again. "Yeah," with that sorted holds his hand out for you much like a knight. He always said he'd be yours, you recall as you accept his offer like you're children again. "I'm still me."

[angstywaifu]

Mirror Sex - Kai Azer

Kai Azer x Reader Summary: On the most important night of her fathers career, reader feels extremely insecure in how they look thanks to Blair. Kai notices it immediately, vowing to make her feel as beautiful as she is in his eyes. warnings: nsfw 18+, mirror sex, chair sex, p in v, pet names, slightly dom Kai, dirty talk, fingering. Slight spoilers for character traits/details in books.

Kinktober MasterList

I couldn’t help but fidget with the dress as I looked at myself in the mirror. The dress was absolutely gorgeous. One of the most beautiful I had ever seen. The dark blue material complimenting my hair and skin colour. Yet I felt so insecure as I looked at myself in the mirror. I’d honestly felt like that the last few days. Blair making comments about how I looked any chance she got. Clearly trying to get in my head. Which she had. I silently cursed myself for letting her get to me.

“Stop fidgeting, you look great.” Lilliana says to me as she places some more pins in my hair, securing the messy bun she’d styled my hair into.

”I don’t feel it.” I say back glumly as I smooth out the material.

“She got in your head didn’t she?” She asks as she tightens the dress a little.

I sigh and nod. I’d told Lilliana about the comments Blair had been making about me. She’d told me to tell Kai or Kitt, knowing they wouldn’t stand for it. But I told her it was nothing. I didn’t need to worry the prince’s with more of Blair’s petty comments.

”I wish she hadn’t. All I want to do is sit in here and read, rather than face a ballroom full of people looking at me.” I admit as I meet her eyes in the mirror.

”You will do no such thing. You look stunning. And you know how much tonight means to your father. And I’m sure Kai will love how you look.”

Tonight was a big night for my father. He was getting promoted within the King’s court, hence the ball tonight. I couldn’t skip out on it. And Kai…. I cursed myself for telling Lilliana my feelings about the future Enforcer. We’d grown up together. Done everything together. He was my best friend. Until my feelings changed a few months ago. I’d started to see him in a different light. It didn’t help the way he talked to me. He had such a way with words that had me in a puddle every time he spoke. Which is probably what infuriated Blair. Encouraged her to be the way she was. We’d all grown up together. But once we got into our teenage years, she’d turned on me. Our friendship now long forgotten.

“We shall see.” I say with a sad smile as a knock sounds at my door.

Lilliana turns to open it, despite us both knowing who awaits on the other side. She opens the door to reveal my father, decked out in his most formal attire. His medals on full display. He very much looks the part of someone about to take one of the most senior positions in the King’s court.

”Well don’t you look beautiful.” He gushes as a grin adorns his lips.

”You have Lilliana to thank for that.” I say as I gesture to her, which doesn’t seem to please either of them as they share a look.

”Nonsense. I just amplified what was already there.” Her tone hinting this was not up for discussion, and I didn’t want to start an argument in front of my father. Especially not tonight.

“Exactly. Now we should get going. Can’t leave the King waiting too long on us.” He says proudly as he holds his arm out for me to take.

In normal circumstances his wife would be who he escorted in tonight. But as she’d died a few years back, I was to accompany my father into the ball tonight. A ball all for him and his promotion. Hence why my dress was blue tonight instead of the usual green required for these balls. This night was about my father. About our family. And our family colour was blue.

I reach out and lay my hand on his arm as he leads us out the door. As was pass into the hallway, a figure stops to let us pass. I know who it is before I look at him fully. I know that black hair anywhere. Kai. He bows at my father and I as we pass, my father returning the gesture with a bow of his head.

As I meet his grey eyes, he smirks at me. It’s like he knows how much I love that damn smirk of his. But for the first time in a long time, I don’t return it. My lips barely lifting at the corners as I attempt to smile at him before my father and I walk past him.

Kai

I nod and smile at the servants as they rush around to get last minute things sorted for the ball that was about to start. A ball I was very eager to attend. All afternoon I’d had to listen to Kitt’s teasing about her. I often hated how easily he my true feelings. How well he could read me. But I was glad he kept the teasing minimal when others were around.

In my nervousness and rush to leave, I’d forgotten my cufflinks for my suit jacket. And I know I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I wasn’t dressed appropriately. As I approach the hallway that leads to my room I can’t help but smile at the thought I might see her. And as if fate we’re reading my thoughts her father steps out of her room with her on his arm. I’m glad they don’t see me at first, because I’m pretty sure my mouth hits the floor with how quickly it drops open at the sight of her.

The girls always wear green to the balls held here. It’s not an official rule, but its a heavily weighted unspoken one that no one has dared to break in many years. And as much as I loved seeing her in green, I definitely preferred seeing her in blue. Blue which was now my favourite colour due to how good it looked on her.

I bow as they approach me, which her father returns with a nod of his head. I shift my attention to her, using that smirk I know she loves even though she will never admit it. But instead of an eyeroll or the reciprocated smirk she would normally give me, she barely smiles. A sadness reflected in her eyes, that should not be there tonight. All week she’s been so excited for tonight. For her fathers promotion. But right now she looks anything but excited. As they pass me, movement from her door catches my eye as her maid Lilliana pokes her head out into the hallway. She’ll know what’s going on with her. She tells Lilliana everything.

”What happened?” I demand a little too aggressively as I approach Lilliana.

She sighs and motions for me to follow her into the room before quickly closing the door behind us. “It’s Blair. She’s been saying some quite nasty things about Miss Y/N.”

Anger immediately flairs within me, and I know if Kitt was close enough I would have conjured flames in my now clenched fists.

”What did she say to her?” I ask, emphasising each word.

”I don’t know the exact things. She was quite vague on them, probably scared I’d come tell you or Kitt. But I know they were to do with how she looks. Things about her weight, and how people were only being polite if they complimented her. And I think it finally got to her after dealing with it multiple times a day.”

I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to calm myself down. But it was hard. I had approached Blair multiple times about how she treated Y/N. But each time I did it seemed to make it worse and worse. As if me defending her only poked the fire that was Blair.

I storm out of the room, quickly heading to my own to get the cufflinks I was originally heading down here to get. But now I had a different task. Tonight I would make sure Y/N felt as beautiful as I saw her. And I would do whatever it took.

Reader

I grasp onto my fathers arm tightly as we stand in front of the closed doors the lead into the ballroom. Behind it hundreds of people were waiting for us to enter. Normally that wouldn’t phase me, as I had done it a few times before when I’d been escorted by Kitt or Kai. But thanks to Blair and her comments about me the past two weeks, all my confidence was gone. I knew her words would play on my mind as we entered that room, with everyone starting at me.

”You ok sweetheart? You seem nervous.” My father asks, dragging me from my thoughts.

I look up at him and smile. “Yeah, just lost in thought. I’m good.”

He doesn’t seem convinced by my words, but he smiles down at me and nods. He knows me well enough there’s no point in pushing the subject. If I wanted to I would tell him. And I didn’t need to bother him with some silly Blair drama right before we walked into a ballroom full of people all here for him.

The doors to the ballroom are pulled open, and I can see everyone turn to watch us enter. My heart rate picking up in response. I silently cursed Blair for making me feel this way as we made our way into the ballroom. Applause fills the air as we walk down the stairs. Everyone smiling and watching us. I sweep my gaze across the crowd, smiling at everyone around us. But as my gaze sweeps near the alter at the top of the room, I see Blair standing near it in front of Kai and Kitt. Her lips pulled into a smug smile as if she knows the affect she’s had on me. She cocks an eyebrow at me before miming throwing up in response to me. I turn my gaze downwards, a slight panic setting in as we reach the bottom of the stairs.

Everyone returns to their normal conversation as our entrance is complete, a few people rushing forward to greet and congratulate my father on his promotion. I remove myself from his arm, desperate to find a corner to hide in away from prying eyes. I spot a table hidden away in a corner that no one has occupied. Perfect.

I go to make my way over to it before a strong had lightly grasps my arm, spinning me around to them. I raise my gaze to see Kai smiling down at me . His black hair falling in its usually messy waves, and his stormy grey eyes piercing into mine.

”Where are you rushing off to so quickly?” He muses as his gaze trails over me.

I resist the urge to recoil at his gaze, Blairs words from yesterday echoing in my ears. “The princes will never want you. You’re not good enough for them. They’re only nice to you because of your father.”

“Just find spot to sit down.” I tell him, which earns him a frown.

”You know you have a spot at our usual table right?” Cocking an eyebrow at my odd behaviour.

I know I did. But as I glance over at the table I would normally sit at, I spy Blair sitting there with Kitt smirking at me. She knows she’s won. She knows she’s gotten into my head.

“I know. I just wanted a quieter spot to sit in.” I insist as I go to walk away.

Before I can get far Kai grips my hand tightly in his, pulling me towards the dancefloor in the middle of the room. It’s early in the evening so only a few couples are dancing on it, but that doesn’t seem to deter Kai who would normally wait till it was more occupied. He quickly pulls us into a dance, gliding easily across the floor as if second nature. Which it was. These dances were drilled into us from a young age. I could probably do most of these in my sleep.

“So do you want to tell me whats going on?” He asks as he spins me around.

”It’s nothing.” I tell him sternly.

I feel his grip on my hand and waist tighten before he pulls me closer, our bodies far closer than necessary for this dance.

”Oh it isn’t nothing Darling.” He growls next to my ear, my heels giving me the height to allow him to do so. “You have once chance to tell me before I reveal what I already know.”

My head snaps to him, our eyes locking with each other. He know. The cocky bastard knew somehow. And I knew exactly how. Lilliana. He must have gone to her after seeing me in the hallway earlier.

”It’s nothing. Just Blair being Blair and trying to get into my head.” I admit as I tear my gaze from his.

”It’s not nothing. She succeeded and it’s making you act weird. What did she say?”

As he asks the question we rotate on the floor, putting Blair firmly in my gaze. Her eyes already locked onto Kai and I.

”That I’m not as pretty as everyone says. Everyone just says it because of who my father is. And…”

”And what darling?” He asks as his grip tightens on me again.

”That I’m not good enough for you or Kitt. That you’re only my friend because of my father as well.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth Kai turns and pulls me off the dancefloor with him. Pulling me through the crowd in a way only the future Enforcer could. No one bats an eye at us, completely oblivious to who pushes past them. He leads us through a side door we’ve used countless times before to escape various balls. But this time we are leaving far earlier than normal.

”Kai we’re going to get in trouble. The ball has barely started.” I tell him sternly as he pulls me down a hall, leading us back to our rooms.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll have you back before anything important happens.” He tells me as he leans around the corner to check the coast is clear before leading us down another hallway.

He pulls me down the last hallway, past my room and around a corner that I know leads to his room. A door I’ve knocked on many times. A door I’ve walked through many times but this time it feels very different as he pulls me through the doorway before closing it behind us. He leads me to the centre on the room in front of his bed, turning me to face the large mirror.

”Look at you Y/N. How could anyone think you are anything but beautiful?” He tells me, his voice barely above a whisper as he stands behind me.

I shake my head and laugh, dropping my gaze to my hands where my fingers fidget nervously. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

Kai growls from behind me as he steps forward, his chest flush to my back as his fingers grasp my chin, tilting my head up to look at my self in the mirror. “Trust me darling, I am not saying anything to make you feel better. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

My heart beats loudly in my chest at the close proximity to Kai and the way he holds me. His other hand trailing down my side before gripping tightly onto my waist. As he pulls me flush against him, there’s no denying the truth behind his words. I can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, as well as his arousal pushing into my lower back.

His fingers release my chin, tracing lightly down my neck, over my collarbones before skimming over the fabric of my dress that separates my breasts from his fingers. Instinctively I arch into his touch, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as I do so.

His other hand moves from my waist, moving lower and lower, down towards the slit in my dress. His fingers find the slit with ease, slipping between the folds of the fabric to trace along the sensitive skin of my thigh. I clamp my thighs together, hoping to hide the evidence of my arousal. But I knew it was futile. He knew what he was doing. He knew how my body reacted even though we’d never been in this situation before. Kai Azer knew me better than myself. And he knew exactly what he was doing to me right now. And I had to admit, watching him trail his hands all over me in the mirror had definitely awoken something inside me.

His fingers trace where my thighs are squeezed together before trailing upwards, lightly tracing over the black underwear I’d chosen to wear for tonight. My body shivering as his touch, leaning back into him as a sigh escapes my lips.

”K-kai.” I practically moan out in the most sinful way.

”Yes darling?” His breath tickling my ear before moving hips lips to kiss down my neck.

”You don’t have t-to d-do this to m-make me feel b-better.” I stutter out as his fingers apply more pressure as they trace over the black fabric separating his fingers from where I want them most.

A low growl rumbles though his chest at my words, the hand tracing over the bodice of my dress moving towards the ties on the back. “Darling, I have been wanting this for far too long. Been longing for the day you would let me touch you like this. Making you realise how beautiful and wanted you are is just the cherry on top.”

His fingers pull on the ties with ease, the corseted back coming apart with ease and skill. Kai removes his hand from beneath the dress, causing me to whimper at the loss of the touch I was craving so much. His hands push open the corseted back before guiding it down my body. Leaving me in my black underwear and heels. I go to reach up and cover my now exposed breasts, but Kai reaches out and grasps my wrists in his hands.

”Don’t cover yourself up. You’re beautiful.” He whispers against my neck, his eyes locking with mine in the mirror.

I lose myself in those grey eyes, so fixated on them as he guides me to step out of the dress. Watching as he kneels behind me, his hands helping me step out of the heels I’d chosen for the night. As he stands up to his full height, he now towers over me. His chin resting atop my head with ease.

His fingers go back to tracing lightly over my body. But unlike before there is an urgency to them. With the dress now gone and exposing everything to Kai, I can see the control Kai is wielding over himself. I can see the fight in those stormy grey eyes as his fingers skim the bottom of my breast.

”Keep your eyes on yourself Darling. I want you to see how pretty you are while I fuck you.” He whispers in my ear.

I turn my head to look at him in shock, giving him the lul in my defence to push his other hand beneath the black underwear I still wore. His fingers sliding between my folds with ease do to how aroused I’d gotten from him barely touching me. His fingers sliding up and down before circling over the bundle of nerves that has my hips bucking into his hand earning me a chuckle.

I look back in the mirror to see Kai trail his fingers up my breast to caress the now peaked nipple. Goosebumps forming on my arm at the sensation. My body shaking as he holds me against him. And I was suddenly very glad he’d helped me remove my shoes before he started this.

As my eyes meet his, a devilish smirk forms on his face, seconds later his fingers leave the bundle of nerves he’d been toying with causing me to whimper, but it’s long forgotten and he inserts two of his fingers into me. My hands fly out, one grasping tightly onto his arm connected to the fingers he pumps slowly in and out of me. The other flying up to tangle my fingers in his curly black hair, tugging on them as my body shakes against his, earning a groan of pleasure.

Still keeping his fingers inside me and adding a third to the mix, Kai removes his other hand from me. I don’t know how he does it but he makes quick work of unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the tie quickly discarded to the floor before he shoves half his jacket and shirt off. With equal precision and ease, his free hand caresses along the back of my thigh before joining his other hand, swiftly swapping them over before shrugging off the other half of his jacket and shirt.

He kicks his shoes off with ease, his free hand making quick work of his belt and pants which swiftly make a pile at his feet before he steps out of them and kicks them away. Due to his position behind me I don’t realise he’s stripped himself off all his clothing till arousal meets my back as his grips my hips and pulls me flush against him.

”I will make you see what I see when I look at you. Make you feel what I feel when I look at you.” He whisper against my neck as he kisses down it. His eyes flicker up and meet mine in the mirror. “And once all that is done sweetheart, I will worship you like the queen you are and have you scream my name.”

I don’t have time to respond to his words, Kai lowering us into a chair I had no idea was near us. His free hand reaching between us to grasp his thick member I barely see before he removes his fingers from me and lowers me slowly on his cock. My hands fly out, grasping on to his thighs as he slowly lowers me down. It feels like I’m being torn apart, but in the most divine way. My body shifting to accommodate Kai and his size as my head rolls back to rest on his shoulder.

Kai’s hands roam over my body, kneeding and groping whatever they can. One of his hands trailing up my side before squeezing my breast, rolling the perked nipple between his fingers as I gasp and arch my back. My eyes fly open as I lift my head from his shoulders as his other hand reaches down and plays with the bundle of nerves at my centre. In the mirror my eyes meet Kai’s as he continues to play with my most sensitive parts as I adjust to his size.

Soon I’m wriggling in his lap, my hips rocking back and forth as I seek the pleasure my body now craves from Kai and the cock he’s impaled me on. I watch as Kai smirks at me in the mirror over my shoulder. His grey eyes clouding over with a look I’d only ever seen when he shifted into his Enforcer persona. Which normally would terrify me. But as his hand guides my legs to sit either side of his before slowing sliding up between my breast and grasping me lightly around my neck, I can’t help the way I clamp around him, my body wanting to experience this new side of Kai and I.

His hips thrust up into me hard, a moan ripping from my throat as I clamp around him again, earning a guttural growl from him that vibrates through me. “See what you do to me darling. See how feral you make me.”

I do my best to nod in response, but his grip on my neck tightens.

”Words sweetheart. Use them.” He growls against my neck before bitting me lightly.

���Y-yes. I see it.” I gasp out as his fingers apply more pressure on my clit, making me shudder against him.

”Good. Because this is how I feel whenever I’m around you. Caging a beast inside me that wants to ruin you in everyway possible. To make you mine.”

I grasp onto the arms that cage me against him, holding my prisoner as I come undone against him. Becoming a mumbling and moaning mess as he continues to thrust up into me again and again. His pace never faltering, if anything increasing as the seconds tick by. Within minutes I’m nearly screaming his name. Sensing I’m close to finishing, he holds me close to him as he stands, kicking the chair away before kneeling on the ground, placing me on my hands and knees in front of him.

The new position feeling so heavenly I can’t help but lean back into him, rocking back and forth to chase the final bits of pleasure I need from him to reach my climax. I raise my head, looking up at Kai in the mirror as his hand weaves its way into my hair, using it as a way to anchor him self before slamming his hips into me as I cry out in pleasure.

”Look at yourself while I finish you. I want you to see how beautiful you look when you come undone. And know that Blair’s words are nothing but lies. Can you do that sweetheart?” He growls out, fingers tightening in my hair.

I go to nod, but I know Kai wants to hear my words. Hear me acknowledge that everything Blair said about me wasn’t true. Just a way to get at me and get in my head. Because now, kneeling on the floor in front of Kai as he fucked me into oblivion, I knew all her words were lies.

”Yes Enforcer.” I moan out.

Something in Kai’s grey eyes shifts as I use the title he will one day bear. A title that will bring fear to all those he is set loose on. But not me. I cry out again as he starts slamming into me, the tip of his cock hitting the perfect spot every time.

”Come with me sweetheart.” He almost pleas as his movements become erratic, each thrust bringing us both closer to our climax.

I look him dead in the eye as I manage to push myself up, bringing my back flush with his chest. His hands instantly caging me against him.

”Yes Enforcer.” I moan out as I place a chaste kiss to his jaw.

Kai growl echoes around the room as he grips me tightly before slamming into me one more time, both our cries echoing off the room as we tip over the edge. Both of us tumbling towards the floor before Kai cushions our fall with the air magic he borrows from me as he cradles me in his arms as we ride out our high. Both of us trying to catch our breath as we lie in peaceful bliss on his bedroom floor. Blair’s words now long forgotten as I lie in the safety of Kai’s arms.

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[minniesmutt]

hai hai haii bangchan + mamacita 👀

﹙ 🪐 ﹚

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐚

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: MAFIA!AU, MAFIA BOSS! CHAN, MISOGYNY, GUNS, ORAL (F. REC), FACE RIDDING, UNPROTECTED SEX, ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.2K ☾ ━━━ NOTE: not me listening to MAMACITA when you sent that hbjad ☾ ━━━ send me Chase Atlantic songs and a member to write a blurb about ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     The only person Chan trusted more than his seven friends was his girlfriend. Especially when he needed to give people a little push. Maybe because she was just the right level of crazy to date— let alone join his gang— a mafia boss.

     He had her on his arm at a banquet for the underground world. Security was tight for the event and Chan knew coming in, he was fine if someone tried something. Y/n stuck close to him the whole time. Her arm wrapped with his while she held a glass of champagne in the other. He watched how many other men looked at her as they walked by. It boosted his ego more.

     “Mr. Bang! How nice to meet you finally!” Something he’d heard all night

     “Mr. Lee. It’s nice to meet you as well,” Chan greeted the target, being the cordial businessman he was.

     It wasn’t long before more men he’d spoken to over the phone had joined his conversation, including some sons who were due to take over their father’s spot. He’d proudly introduced Y/n as his girlfriend to the group when asked. Y/n smiled and gave a small wave to the group.

     “How do you manage to pick up such a pretty lady Mr. Bang?” One of the sons asked

     “Pure luck,” Chan answered

     “You have her well trained. Been quiet as a mouse all night.” Mr. Lee joked causing the other men to laugh

     “Maybe you’re just not worth speaking to Mr. Lee. Your fourth wife seems to think so at the moment,” Y/n smiled as she sipped her drink

     “Excuse me?” Mr. Lee looked shocked

     “Obviously not trained enough,” Another remarked

     “You let her speak this way, Mr. Bang?”

     “I prefer she does,” Chan smiled

     Chan didn’t worry about his girlfriend mouthing off. He’d thought it was attractive to watch her do it to others. It’s how things seemed to get done.

     “And you’re the current head of the underworld bosses? Can’t believe you have such a mou—”

     “You can finish that sentence if you prefer glass in your throat,” Y/n interrupted

     The look in her eyes alone kept the men silent for a moment.

     “I believe the council will need to discuss our leadership now,” Mr. Lee said

     “You’re just looking for an excuse to take out Chan, Mr. Lee.”

     “I most certainly am not!”

     “It’s really amazing what a few high ranking members of your family will say with a good drink and a pretty face in front of them.”

     “I beg you’re pardon?”

     “Then get on your knees and beg.”

     Y/n watched as he reached behind and pulled out a gun. Point it at her, which just made security— all who worked for her boyfriend— pull theirs out and surround the group.

     “Thank you, for showing you’re true colors, Mr. Lee. If any of you would like to join Mr. Lee, please feel free too. But let this be a warning not to question my leadership.” Chan smiled

     One of the security guards grabbed the gun from the man while he was escorted to a different room.

     “You let yourself get—” one of the sons started speaking put was cut off by Y/n’s champagne flute colliding with his head

     “Deal with them,” Chan sighed and escorted his girlfriend out of the room. Bringing her back home and carrying her up to their room.

     “Chan!” Y/n squealed

     “What?” He laughed as he walked up the stairs

     “I can walk.”

     “Mm, but I know you’re feet hurt from those heels baby.”

     Chan opened their bedroom door before setting her on the bed and kneeling infront of her. He quickly slipped her heels off and set them in their closet. Y/n smiled as he turned back to her. “I’m so glad I get to call you mine,” Chan said as he crawled over her and pressed his lips to hers.

     Y/n moaned into his mouth and pushed his blazer off his shoulder. Their hands roamed the other’s body, pulling off the fabric of the clothing. Tossing them somewhere in the room for someone to deal with later. Y/n managed to get her boyfriend on his back as she grinded herself against him. 

     “Let me prep you baby girl,” Chan said as she kissed down his neck

     “Let me ride that pretty face tonight?” Y/n asked

     “Whenever. Get up here.”

     Y/n moved up his frame. Wet pussy hovering over his face before he pulled her down to his mouth. Tongue sliding into her and coating her walls with his saliva. Y/n grabbed onto their headboard. Rolling her hips against his face, nose hitting her clit while his hands gripped her ass. 

     Y/n moaned into the large room. The tip of his nose hitting her clit with each roll of her hips. “Channie.” 

     Chan moaned into her as his hands had migrated to her hips and helped her rock against him. Her moans were muffled from him by her thighs. Her legs got tighter around his head with each swip of his tongue and nose.

     “Need you inside, Channie,” Y/n moaned

     Y/n peered down at him. Eyes closed as he ate her out. Enjoying the taste of her to the fullest. Chan kept her flush against him as she whined. The knot in her stomach tightening with each motion. Y/n moved her hands to grip his wrists. Holding on to him as he orgasm washed over her. A loud moan ripping from her throat. 

     Chan helped her through the high he set off before letting her off his face. Y/n sat up a bit and caught her breath as he moved her back over his hard cock. Y/n lifted his leaky dick from his stomach, positioning his tip at her entrance, and slowly sinking down. Chan held her hips as she sat down on him. Watching her head roll back as she took his size. 

     “Such a good girl for me,” Chan praised her 

      “Only you,” Y/n hummed as she placed her hands on his chest. 

     Slowly she started bouncing along his shaft. Chan took in the sight of her. Just like he always did in bed. His hands caressed her sides as she squeezed him just right.

       His hands grabbed her hips again as she picked up her pace. Helping her bounce on him as her nails left crescents into the skin. Dragging her nails down his chest. Chan moaned under her as she smiled down at him. Dick twitching inside as she clenched around him for fun. Rolling against him as Chan tilted his head back into the pillow.

     “Fuck baby. ‘M close,” Chan moaned

     “Fill me up Channie. Pretty please.” Y/n begged 

     “Whatever you want.” Chan sat up and pressed his lips to hers.

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her tongue slipping into his mouth and playing with his tongue as his hands gripped her hips tighter. Burying himself inside her as his orgasm washed over him. Whimpering into her mouth as she tried rolling her hips against him.

     He flipped her onto her back, leaning down to her neck, “You’re turn baby.”

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[nmakii]

CAN’T REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU

[before you read this, check out the rest of the story!]

— running away from alastor wasn’t so hard the first time, who says you can’t do it again while pregnant?

alastor; the monster you call husband. he was absolutely by all definitions, obsessed. he never left your side— cooking all your meals, escorting you everywhere, even watching you sleep.

he proudly announced your pregnancy on live radio, sealing that you are his. no man will want for you anymore, he has defiled your purity. he clung onto you like a leech, draining away what little happiness you had left.

you just had to get away from that monster. you couldn’t stand another second in this hellhole house, everything in it was a cruel reminder that you’re trapped with no way to escape.

well, you’re not gonna just fall into his trap. it was then that you had planned to run away. far into saint bernard, where no one knew who you were.

and with that plan in mind, you packed all you could and ran. running south with wild abandon, you needed to run far as far from alastor as possible.

you took shelter at a rundown motel while you got back on your feet, taking a singing gig at a club down the street.

you sang well, earning favorable tips from the drunk men who desired you, wanting to see what else was underneath your signature loose flowy dresses. and with that money, you were able to afford a small house with the basic necessities. well, enough for when your child was born.

being a single mother had been rough, when you went to work at night, you entrusted your son, noah with one of your neighbors who you had grown fond of. you sent noah off to a public school, it was not the best, but it was all you could afford.

soon enough, your hard work truly paid off, you were able to live much more comfortably, buying your son the things he could ever want for.

true, there were times that your son wondered where his father was… and to that, you decided to tell him the complete truth; of how alastor is an evil man, a sort of big bad wolf. and, how you ran away to protect him and keep him safe from that wolf.

and, to him, that was a reasonable explanation.

7 years passed by, your son grew into a handsome little boy. handsome, yet you couldn’t look him in the eye. everyday, as he grew up, he started looking more and more just like his father; the tuft of chestnut brown hair, those piercing eyes, and that smile— it was all resembling the monster you ran away from. it seems as if all that your son inherited from you was your heart.

as you walked over to the bar, you spotted your co-worker mimzy slacking off. it wasn’t often that your shifts had co-incided, but the two of you still remained aquaintances. she was apparently talking up some fellow, probably trying to milk some cash out of him.

and as you took a peek of the poor soul mimzy had decided to prey on, your frame froze. was that alastor? what was he doing so far out from new orleans? your breath hitched as you walked back, trying to move as far away from that wretched man.

maybe you shouldn’t buy heels from thrift stores anymore.

the heel on your right foot snapped as you fell onto your butt. this had caught the attention of alastor, excusing himself from the conversation as he walked towards you.

you shuffled back into the crowd as best as you could, crawling away before he could get his hands on you. and still, you weren’t fast enough. alastor bended down by his waist, a smile plastered on his face. “why, say it ain’t so! if it isn’t my darling wife.” he laughed. “ex-wife.” you corrected. “ah-ah” alastor tutted, wagging his finger. “wife. we never had a formal divorce. did we, dear?”

“whatever…” you scoffed, still moving back. “say, where is our child? the one you’ve hidden from me for 7 years? i’m sure they’ll be delighted to meet me after you’ve kept us apart for so long!” he rambled on. “get away from me, alastor. you’ll never meet my child.” you said, finally getting back up on your feet, albeit the broken heel. “won’t you at least tell me their name?” he pleaded, doe eyes begging you. the doe eyes that made you crawl back every time.

“…noah. his name is noah” you frowned, glaring up at alastor. “noah. what a beautiful name for our son.” he mused. “now, would you leave me alone?” you hissed, pushing him away.

despite his lanky frame, alastor had barely moved. “my love, do you think i of all people would let you off the hook so easily? all the scheming, forcing you into an affair, into running away, crawling back to me, even following you far into this club— i wouldn’t want it all to be for naught…” he frowned, explaining his plan as he backed you into a wall, a predatory shine in the way he stared at you.

alastor planned it all..? all the ‘hardships’ you faced— all of it was in some elaborate scheme. no word could’ve described the overwhelming betrayal that overcame you. you just wanted to get out of this club, run home to your son, and run farther away. to another city, a different state, or even a different country! anything to keep him far away from his father. “now that you’ve had your fun, dear… i think it’s time you and noah return home. you can’t keep my son away from me forever. plus, my mother has been dying to meet her grandchild!” he laughed, holding you by the waist.

alastor took note of how you submissively agreed, letting him take you back to your true home. it seems you finally learned your lesson; there’s no escaping alastor. no matter what you do, it’ll end with you back in his bed, back in his arms.

“come now, my doe. it’s not safe to leave noah alone at home.” he chided, opening your side of the car door. “he must be quite confused right now. after all, he’s in the room we had prepared for him all those years ago, he must have no idea where he is right now!”

ah…

there was no use keeping alastor away.

he’d always find his way back, even through drab methods.

[kckt88]

A Dragon's Heart.

Summary:

Viserra Targaryen's marriage to Borros Baratheon was nothing more than a duty, a strategic alliance forged to prevent the dragons from dancing.

Yet the wife did her duty and bore her husband a son.

Borros was ecstatic that he finally had a son, and if he noticed that the boy looked nothing like him then he didn’t comment on it, for how could he when it could be argued that Rhaegar simply favoured his silver haired mother in looks and did not bear an entirely coincidental resemblance to the Lord Commander of the City Watch.

Warning(s): Angst, Arranged/Unwanted Marriage, Swearing, Family Drama, Dragons, Infidelity, Uncle/Niece Incest, Smut, Kissing, Fingering, P in V, Breeding Kink, Attempted Blackmail, Conspiracy.

AEMOND x O.C

Word Count: 11K

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Viserra soared high above Blackwater Bay, the wind whipping through her hair as she rode atop Vermithor. Her two-year-old son, Rhaegar, was securely strapped into the saddle in front of her, his delighted squeals mingling with the dragon's powerful roars.

The colossal dragon cut through the clouds with ease, the sun glinting off his bronze scales, creating a dazzling display against the blue sky.

As they approached the Red Keep, Viserra's keen eyes caught sight of a carriage emerging from the Kingswood. The Baratheon banner, with its distinctive crowned stag on a gold background, was proudly displayed.

A groan of frustration escaped her lips; her husband, Borros Baratheon, was arriving earlier than expected. She had hoped for a few more days of freedom before he made his presence known at the Red Keep.

Directing Vermithor with a firm tug on the reins, she guided the dragon to land near Vhagar’s nesting spot. The ancient dragon, let out a huff of annoyance as Vermithor’s landing shook the ground.

Viserra couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the grumpy dragon being disturbed from her slumber.

Detaching herself and Rhaegar from the saddle, she slid down Vermithor's side with practiced ease, landing gracefully on the ground.

Rhaegar, still giggling with excitement from the flight, clung to her as she made her way over to the waiting guards. They bowed respectfully before escorting her and her son back to the Red Keep.

Viserra sank into the warm bath in her chambers, letting the soothing water wash away the smell of dragon. The sounds of Rhaegar's giggles floated through the air, bringing a smile to her face.

Her son was playing with his dragon hatchling, Karnax, who was growing rapidly. Soon, Karnax would need to be moved to the Dragonpit to join the other dragons.

A transition that Rhaegar was vehemently opposed too, as every attempt to move Karnax had so far had been met with stubborn refusals and tantrums from the young prince, and bursts of flame from Karnax who would not be parted from his bonded rider.

As she finished bathing and began to dress, Viserra heard a methodical tapping on the wall. Recognizing the signal, she excused her maids, who curtsied and left the room.

After making sure the door was locked, she went over to the portrait on the wall and gave it a push. The hidden door swung open, revealing Aemond emerging from the secret passageway.

Without hesitation, Viserra flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Rhaegar, noticing Aemond, beamed with excitement. "Kepa!" he shrieked, running towards him with outstretched arms (Father).

Aemond scooped Rhaegar up from the floor, holding him close. "Byka zaldrīzes," he murmured affectionately (Little dragon).

Aemond set Rhaegar down gently and turned to Viserra, his expression serious. "I see Lord Borros will be arriving earlier than anticipated," he said, his voice low and measured.

Viserra nodded sadly, her heart sinking. She had hoped for a few more precious days with Aemond before her husband's unwelcome presence disrupted their world.

Her marriage to Borros was nothing more than a duty, a strategic alliance forged to prevent war, with no love to bind them. She understood why Borros had come; his recent letters had made it clear. He wanted another child. They had one son, but another was needed to secure their lineage.

"He’s been writing to me-" Viserra said quietly, her eyes downcast. "He wants me to give him another child. One son is not enough for him."

Aemond's jaw tightened. "He comes here for that-"

"Yes," she replied, her voice tinged with bitterness. "He often complains about me living in the Red Keep instead of Storm's End. I remind him that as heir to the Iron Throne, I need to learn how to rule. He usually relents, believing he will one day be King Consort. But this visit-he will use it as an opportunity to paw at me at every given chance." The thought made her stomach churn.

Aemond reached out, taking her hands in his. "Issa jorrāelagon-” (My love).                                                                                                                

Viserra looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of determination and sorrow. "-Nyke dōrī jeldan syt bisa. Nyke jaelagon ao, mērī ao” (I never wished for this; I want you, only you).

Aemond pulled Viserra into a tight embrace, holding her close as she clenched her hands in the material of his golden cloak.

“Ao jāhor va moriot emagon issa” whispered Aemond (You will always have me).

“Nyke vēdros bisa” muttered Viserra, pressing her cheek against the cold material of Aemonds armour (I hate this).

“So do I” said Aemond softly.

Viserra stood with Rhaegar in her arms, waiting as Borros’ carriage came to a halt. The door swung open, and Borros stepped out, his presence as commanding as ever.

"Wife!" he bellowed, marching forward with heavy strides. He grabbed her by the shoulders and planted a rough kiss on her cheek.

"My Lord," she greeted him with a forced smile, her tone cordial yet distant.

Rhaegar looked up at Borros with wide eyes, startled by the man's booming voice. Before he could react, Borros snatched him from Viserra's grasp, lifting him high into the air. Rhaegar cried out in surprise, his small hands flailing.

"Look at my handsome, sturdy son!" Borros declared proudly, his voice echoing across the courtyard. "He will make a fine King one day!"

Rhaegar struggled against Borros's grip, his cries growing more desperate. Viserra's heart ached at the sight, and she glanced around, catching sight of Aemond hovering nearby.

His hand was wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword, his eye dark with barely restrained fury as he watched Borros manhandle Rhaegar.

Discreetly, Viserra shook her head at Aemond, signalling him to stand down. She then stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "Husband, Rhaegar is not used to such-enthusiasm. Let me take him."

Borros looked at Rhaegar, who continued to struggle, and with a huff of irritation, he handed the boy back to Viserra. "Very well, take him. But he must grow accustomed to it."

Viserra held Rhaegar close, soothing him with gentle words. She met Aemond's gaze one last time, their silent understanding passing between them. Borros, oblivious to the tension, demanded, "You and the boy will accompany me. There is much to discuss."

With a final look at Aemond, Viserra nodded and followed Borros inside the Red Keep, Rhaegar still clinging to her.

Viserra stood in the guest chambers of the Red Keep, her son Rhaegar playing quietly at her feet with his wooden toys. Borros paced before her, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the stone floor.

"Wife, we must discuss the matter of another child," Borros began, his tone brooking no argument. "Rhaegar is a fine boy, but as the first born, he belongs to the throne. We need another son to inherit Storm's End."

Viserra took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Could one of your daughters' sons be named heir instead?"

Borros stopped his pacing and turned to face her, his expression stern. "None of my daughters are currently wed, a matter which I plan to discuss with the Queen. By birthing me a healthy son you have proved that you are fertile. There is no reason why you cannot give me more sons."

She nodded slightly, knowing that he would not be swayed. "Very well, my Lord."

Borros's gaze softened just a fraction "I will call upon you tonight, and I expect you to come."

Viserra's heart sank, but she kept her face impassive. "I will provide you with another son,"

Borros nodded, satisfied with her response. "Good. We must secure the future of House Baratheon and House Targaryen of course-"

As he turned to leave, Viserra glanced down at Rhaegar, who looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes.

She forced a smile for his sake, though her heart ached, she had begged her mother not to follow through on the betrothal, but her hands were tied.

The support of Storms End had been crucial in squashing the war before it truly began and Viserra had no choice but to marry Borros.

On the morning of her wedding she had shed many tears, praying to the gods that her intended would be struck down with some sudden illness that would mean the wedding would be rearranged or even cancelled, but alas the gods stayed silent, and Borros remained hale and healthy.

Her only semblance of solace was the fact that she had allowed Aemond to fuck her before the ceremony, his cock had felt glorious as he pounded inside her with a series of deep penetrating thrusts, his fingers gently caressing her pearl as she peaked calling his name.

It gave her a sense of twisted satisfaction that she did not clean herself and as she wed her husband, she could still feel Aemonds seed staining her small clothes.

Even as she spoke the vows, she had positioned herself in such a way that her gaze never left Aemond’s, and she could imagine that it was him she was pledging herself to and not Borros Baratheon.

The celebration after the wedding had been somewhat bearable given the ample supply of wine, which Borros indulged in, and of course discreetly slipping a little something into his cup also helped.

So much so that he found himself unable to perform his husbandly duties and after he had passed out on the bed, Viserra detangled herself from him and spent the night being fucked into the mattress by Aemond.

She had lost count of the amount of times that he had made her come using his mouth, fingers and cock, he was ravenous and unrestrained that night and she was more than happy to indulge him.

After she had returned to her chambers, Borros was snoring and drooling in his sleep, she had cut herself and wiped blood on the sheets, as proof of her lost innocence.

Climbing back into the bed, she laid as far away from Borros as she could, not wanting him to touch her, and in the morning, he had woken groggy but easily convinced that he had done his duty, especially when he saw the blood.

Throughout the day he was clapped on the back and offered wishes of congratulations on his wedding and successful bedding and Viserra was forced to endure the laughing innuendos from the Lords who had lingered after the celebrations.

Luckily, she didn’t have to endure many of Borros’ attempts to bed her as not too long after the wedding she discovered that she was with child, which was no surprise given how many times Aemond would spill his seed inside her.

The realm rejoiced when the news was announced, even more so when she entered the birthing bed eight moons later and delivered a son.

Rhaegar, her sweet little dragon. He was perfect, with his silver hair and amethyst eyes, the very image of his father.

Borros was ecstatic now that he finally had a son, and if he noticed that the boy looked nothing like him then he didn’t comment on it, for how could he when it could be argued that Rhaegar simply favoured his mother and grandmother the Queen in looks.

Nevertheless, the Iron Throne had its future heir in Rhaegar and now Borros was demanding one for Storms End, and Viserra would do her duty as before and provide her husband with another heir.

Aemond paced angrily around his chambers, his movements agitated and relentless. His brother, Aegon, lounged on a chair nearby, watching with a mix of amusement and annoyance.

"Sit down, brother," Aegon said, his voice slurred slightly from the wine. "Your constant pacing is making me sick."

Aemond shot him a withering look. "It's the amount of wine that you've poured down your throat that's making you sick."

Aegon laughed, a deep, carefree sound that echoed in the chamber. "True enough." He lifted a cup and offered it to Aemond. "Join me, then brother. It might do you some good."

Aemond hesitated, his jaw clenched with barely contained fury. But then, with a sudden, decisive movement, he snatched the cup from Aegon's hand and downed the contents in one go.

Aegon raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You’ve never been much of a drinker. What's wrong?"

Aemond's face twisted with anger. "Borros is in the Red Keep. He has demanded that Viserra provide him with another son."

Aegon scoffed. "Not like the first one is his anyway."

Aemond's glare could have melted steel. "Watch your tongue."

Aegon shrugged, unfazed. "Come now, Aemond. We both know Rhaegar is your son, not his."

"Keep your mouth shut," Aemond hissed, stepping closer to his brother, his eye blazing.

Aegon raised his hands in mock surrender. "Calm down. I promise to keep it quiet."

Aemond narrowed his eyes. "How do you know, anyway?"

Aegon chuckled. "I'm not the idiot everyone thinks I am. I see how you look at Viserra, and Rhaegar-he looks nothing like Borros. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

Aemond clenched his fists, his mind racing with the implications of his brother's words. They had always been careful, always discreet. But the truth was clear to anyone who looked closely enough.

"She deserves better," Aemond muttered, more to himself than to Aegon as he traced the scar on his palm.

Aegon nodded, surprisingly sober. "She does. But this is the game we play, brother. We all have our roles."

Aemond sank into a chair, his anger momentarily spent. He looked at his brother, seeing the truth in his words. "What do I do, Aegon?"

Aegon poured another cup of wine and handed it to Aemond. "You play your part. You protect Viserra and Rhaegar as best you can, fuck another son into her and pray that Borros has a painful yet rather unfortunate accident in the near future”

“Don’t tempt me-” muttered Aemond.

Suddenly Aemond and Aegon's conversation was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of Viserra, who stepped through the secret passageway.

She paused, surprised to see Aegon but quickly recovered, greeting him warmly. "Aegon, I didn't expect to see you here."

Aegon grinned, raising his cup in a mock salute. "Viserra, always a pleasure."

Aemond immediately moved to her side, concern etched on his face. "Are you ok?" he asked, pulling her into a tight embrace.

He pressed his nose into her hair, inhaling her familiar scent, a mixture of lavender and something uniquely hers.

Viserra nodded, holding him close. "Yes, I'm fine."

Aegon watched the tender exchange with a slight smile before standing up. "I think that's my cue to leave. I'll see you both later." He winked at Aemond and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as they were alone, Aemond pulled back slightly to look into Viserra's eyes. "Did Borros have his way with you?" His voice was laced with concern and barely restrained anger.

Viserra shook her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. "He tried, but he found himself unable to perform. Sleep has claimed him."

Aemond let out a sigh of relief, his tension visibly easing. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing her cheeks. "Thank the gods."

“Hopefully what I slipped into his wine will last the night”.

“Here’s hoping” replied Aemond.

Viserra's expression grew serious, her eyes searching his. "-I refuse to lay with that man, and I will not bear his children. If he’s so insistent on me providing him with another son, then I will do it on my terms, I want you to give me another babe”

“Viserra-” whispered Aemond.

“I want your seed to take root inside me again”

“Hmmm” rasped Aemond.

“Please raqiarzy. I need you” whispered Viserra, as she untied and removed her robe (Beloved).

Aemond's breath hitched as he caught sight of her nipples through the fabric, and he quickly nodded. “Yes”

Viserra held her breath as Aemond took hold of her, his hands traveling up and down her body, slowly, like he was memorising every inch of her.

“If I get between your legs tonight then I am going to make you fucking beg for it, issa dōna and I’ll only fill you up when you’ve been a good girl-” (My sweet).

Viserra shuddered at the way the muscles in his forearms flexed as his hands explored her body, dipping under the cotton shift she wore.

“Aemond, that feels so good-don’t stop” groaned Viserra, as his hand inched higher.

“Fuck, Viserra-” growled Aemond. His lips continued their journey as he took hold of the shift and pulled it over her head, exposing her naked body.

As soon as she was bared too him, Aemond bent his head down and began sucking on one rosy nipple, then the other.

Her hands were now in his long silver hair, pressing his mouth deeper into her chest and her head fell back on a groan.

“Aemond, you need to touch me-” whimpered Viserra.

“Not yet-let me play some more”

Viserra let her hands travel down to lift up his shirt. He broke away from his feast on her breasts for just a second to let her take it off.

The feeling of his skin against hers only added to her want. He continued his assault on her nipples, and it was driving her fucking insane.

His tongue flicked out across her nipple and she mewled at the contact, her core tensing in anticipation of what was to come.

Needing any kind of relief, Viserra pressed herself against him so she could find some sort of friction to help with the ache in her core.

This seemed to snap something inside of him, because Aemond had hauled her off the floor and then carried her to bed, her legs around his waist.

After he placed her on is bed, Aemond pressed a quick kiss to her lips before he paused to untie his breeches and pull them off.

He then crawled back on the bed, positioning himself between her legs.

“So fucking good” mumbled Aemond against her lips as he pulled her hips flush against his.

Slowly, one of his hands started to make its way down her body and she held her breath when she felt his finger start to inch inside of her stretching her out, readying her for more.

“So, fucking wet,” He mumbled against her. “-If you’re good, I’ll let you come like this-” whispered Aemond hotly. “I’ll let you come around my fingers before I give you my cock.”

Then he added a second finger inside of her heat and crooked his fingers in just the way he knew how to.

“Oh shit-“ Viserra panted out, clinging onto his shoulders.

“That’s it-” groaned Aemond as he slowly moved his fingers inside her.

“Fuck, Aemond-” whined Viserra, she was so turned on that she could already feel her peak approaching.

“I know your close-I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Let go-come for me”

“Yes-yes. Right there” moaned Viserra as the heat shot across her abdomen and she exploded.

“I want to play a little game with you” whispered Aemond against her ear, his fingers still stroking her pearl lightly and she bit her lip, only able to nod as her answer came out softly.

“Yes” whispered Viserra against his lips, and before she knew it, Aemond had picked her up around the waist, sat her on top of him and was pressing his cock against her entrance with a feral look in his eye as he watched himself pressed against her folds.

“I fucking love watching myself inch inside of you-” he told her in a low tone, the hand at her back sliding down to grip her arse and then she felt the head of his cock at her entrance.

“Aemond-" Viserra managed to pant out, gripping at his shoulders as he entered her from below.

Out of all the positions they had tried since their relationship began, this was one of his favourites.

Viserra loved it for her own reasons, she loved feeling close to him and loved the look of wonder on his face as he watched her breasts bounce up and down— she knew how much it turned him on, even more so after she had birthed Rhaegar and her tits were swollen with milk.

Aemond loved nothing more than sucking on her nipples, tasting her mothers milk as he sheathed his cock inside her.

Another groan erupted from her when Aemond finally moved his hips, pushing into her.

Viserra felt a fist in her long hair and her face was brought so close to his that their noses were touching.

"Do you feel that?" panted Aemond against her lips and flexed his hips into her again, the tip of his cock reaching that place inside of her that could make her explode if the right pressure was applied.

“Y-Yes”

"I'll give you all of me," whispered Aemond, a small grin on his lips as his forehead rested against hers as he continued to press into her with his cock. "If you can be good girl for me and not move an inch, I’ll let you have it-I’ll put another babe inside of you” He grinned wickedly at her. “But let's see how much self-control you really have, first"

And then without giving any warning, he rocked into her so painstakingly slowly that she felt her legs start to shake involuntarily.

"Don't you dare fucking move" said Aemond against her lips as his grip tightened on her arse cheek and the one in her hair kept her pressed tightly against him. “I’ll let you come when you’ve kept still for me.”

Viserra managed to keep her hips still, but only just. He was turning her on too much for this torture to last long.

He raised a finger and traced her bottom lip, and then the top before pressing his finger inside her mouth. She never broke her gaze as she licked his finger before sucking it deep into the wet heat of her mouth.

“Fuck”

But then Aemond reached out and pinched one of her nipples.

“Oh, Aemond-”

 “Shall I keep playing with your nipples, or are you aching for me to touch you somewhere else?”  groaned Aemond pinching her other nipple.

Viserra wanted his mouth on her skin, not just on her breasts. She wanted to move.

She needed more.

Putting everything out of her thoughts, instead, she ran one hand down her stomach and rubbed her pearl slowly as she looked him directly in the eye and bit her lip.

“I want you here” whispered Viserra, smiling as she heard the feral sound that was almost like a growl erupt from the back of his throat.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue along her throat, revelling in the musky scent and taste of her.

“You’re fucking unbelievable-” rasped Aemond flexing his hips again into her and making her groan loudly again.

Keeping eye contact and merely tracing down her body with his hand until it met hers, the seam of her slit was then encircled by his fingers and his cock was hard as steel inside of her.

“Don’t look away from me, I want to watch your face when you move on my cock.” He told her as his lips grazed along her jawline.

His hips moved into her again, stretching her out and hitting the place she needed him.

“Oh, shit-“ panted Viserra breathlessly against him.

“Right there, Viserra. That’s where you want it, isn’t it?” His cock kept pushing to the back of her, making her legs quake with the effort to keep her body still.

She wanted to beg him for more and have him moaning her name as he came deep inside of her. She wanted all of that.

But she could only have it if she was his good girl-she had to obey, first.

Aemond’s fingers began to focus on her pearl.

As soon as his digits made contact with her slick, hard nub, Viserra moaned and tightened her thighs around his waist.

“Stay still, or this will only take longer” growled Aemond roughly against her ear and his free hand grabbed at her hip, squeezing her to keep her still for him.

Viserra instinctively tried to raise her hips again, but he held her down and squeezed them to keep her in place.

Then he bit her over her pulse point. Hard. She cried out and Aemond rumbled in approval at how loud she screamed for him.

“Such a good fucking girl.” His tongue licked where he had just bitten down. “You always make the sweetest sounds for me-”

Aemond loved biting her, he always had.

Viserra moaned at the continuous touch of his fingers on her pearl and Aemond moaned with her, feeling her muscles squeeze and release around his cock as she tried to keep herself calm and controlled for him.

Aemond growled as he took her mouth in a rough kiss.

Opening to him, she savoured the feel of his tongue against hers.

“Be the fucking death of me” Aemond panted against her and his hips flexed in and out of hers so slowly that he was shaking himself with the effort to not just fuck her hard.

“Aemond, please” begged Viserra.

“Shhh-can you take a little more for me?” asked Aemond as he grabbed her hair and pulled it.

“I-I’ll try-” was all that she could say as she tried to keep her hips from rocking.

“That’s my good girl-” He rocked his own hips right into her, making them both hiss. “So, fucking tight-all mine”

“I need more” whimpered Viserra

Moving back up to her face, Aemond took her lips against his roughly as he finally thrust his hard, long cock right into her.

“That enough for you, sweetheart?” asked Aemond as he brought her hips back into his again, causing her eyes to roll into the back of her head.

“Yes-more-” breathed Viserra, her nails digging into his shoulders as the sensation of him filling her.

Growling, Aemond quickly moved their positions so that Viserra was laid underneath him.

“Need to fuck you like this” mumbled Aemond into her hair before looking down at her as she clung to him, her legs wrapped around his waist.

As his pace picked up, she gripped his shoulders for dear life and moved with him, never taking her eyes from his.

“Keep going,” She panted against him. “Just like that-just like that”

“You like that?”

“Yes-yes Aemond” replied Viserra.

“I fucking love you-I love you so much” moaned Aemond, every thrust of his hips was forcing her further towards the headboard.

“Come for me, Aemond-fill me up-Oh, God!”

“Gonna come right where you need it – Right there – fuck! – Fucking going to love seeing you round with my child-“ He rotated his hips as he spoke, his forehead against hers.

Viserra scrawled her nails down Aemond’s back hard enough to leave marks making him growl in approval and fuck her harder into the mattress.

“Mark me fucking harder” ordered Aemond as Viserra scored her nails down his back again.

“A-Aemond”

“So, fucking good for me-Oh, shit-yes-” moaned Aemond, his hips crashing into hers, babbling to himself and hitting all the right spots for her.

“Aemond I’m close-let me come, please-“ begged Viserra. She was so close, just a little more and she would be there.

“Making me come-give you another babe” said Aemond against her lips as his thrusts started to become erratic.

“Aemond, yes-yes, give me another babe”

“FUCK!” roared Aemond, the heat spreading across his abdomen as he exploded, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.

“Oh shit – Aemond!” shouted Viserra as she clutched Aemond’s shoulders to ride the wave of pleasure that coursed through her body.

Aemond collapsed on top of her, and Viserra hugged his body tight.

“You are mine. Do you hear that?” whispered Aemond against her into her ear. “Everything about you.”

“Yours Aemond. Always yours”

Aemond and Viserra lay together in the afterglow, their bodies intertwined. Aemond's hand rested gently on Viserra's stomach, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her skin.

"I wonder if my seed has already taken root," he mused aloud, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Viserra giggled, the sound light and musical. "It's a bit soon to tell"

He smirked, his hand continuing its tender exploration. "I think I put it a good bit of effort there”

Viserra laughed, a playful glint in her eyes. "Yes-you did"

“I wish we could stay this way forever”

“So do I” replied Viserra quietly.

Soon, Aemond fell asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful. Viserra watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with love, but reality soon re-surfaced and she knew that she had to get back to her husband.

Gently, she pressed a kiss to Aemond's lips, a silent promise of her return. She slipped out of bed, gathering her nightdress and robe, putting them back on.

With one last lingering look at Aemond, she made her way back through the secret passageway and into the chambers Borros was occupying during his stay.

The room was dark, and Borros was still sleeping soundly. She climbed into bed next to him, moving with practiced ease.

As she settled, Borros mumbled in his sleep and draped an arm over her. The weight of it felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the tender embrace she had left behind.

Carefully, she picked up his arm and moved it off her, shuffling to the edge of the bed. She lay there, staring into the darkness, the feeling of Aemonds seed sticky between her thighs.

Aemond stood at the gatehouse of King’s Landing, his imposing figure clad in black armour and a sweeping gold cloak, his hand curled around the hilt of his sword.

The clinking of metal and the soft rustling of his cloak were the only sounds that accompanied him as he observed the comings and goings of people through the city gates.

Carriages rolled by with lords and ladies, their attendants following behind on horseback, while smallfolk ambled along on foot, their faces a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

The distant roar of Vhagar reached his ears. His old dragon’s roar was a reminder of the weight he carried, a silent acknowledgment of his own unrest.

Becoming the Commander of the City Watch had never been something Aemond envisioned for himself, yet here he was, having accepted the post granted to him by Rhaenyra.

The position had been a necessary concession, a way to atone for his part in the attempted repudiation of the Iron Throne.

Four years had passed since Rhaenyra had taken her place as Queen, and while they had made some measure of peace, true unity remained elusive.

His thoughts turned to his family’s current situation. His mother roamed the Red Keep freely, enjoying the gardens and the Sept as she pleased.

Aegon indulged in his vices, drinking and whoring his way through the Streets of Silk, living his life as he wanted.

Helaena found solace in motherhood, embracing her role with quiet grace, collecting her bugs and flying through the skies with Dreamfyre as often as she wanted.

Daeron was currently residing on Driftmark with Jacaerys and Baela, enjoying his freedom, away from the constraints of Oldtown and thriving with Tessarion.

His grandsire Otto and Criston Cole had been amongst those executed for treason and his Uncle Gwayne only visited the Red Keep occasionally.

Aemond caught sight of Lucerys walking arm in arm with Rhaena, as they laughed along with one another, the two of them would soon be married so no doubt this was some courting nonsense.

Aemond felt a surge of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, he never imagined he would ever want to take a woman to wife.

He knew as a second son he would have no choice but to marry, but actually having that desire to tie himself to someone for the rest of his life was foreign to him.

Until he saw Viserra again.

Rhaenyra and her mix of strong bastards and true borns had descended upon the Red Keep to defend Jace’s status as heir to Driftmark.

He’d not seen his half-sister’s oldest child since he’d lost his eye after claiming Vhagar, he could still remember her attempts to press a torn shred of her nightgown against his maimed face and her anguished pleas for help.

Ever since he was a child, he always thought her beautiful but when she stepped into the training yard alongside her dark haired brothers, he was sure his heart had stopped.

Her long silver hair flowed like liquid moonlight, cascading down her back with an ethereal grace. Her light amethyst eyes, that seemed to sparkle in the sun made his cock stir.

All through the petition he couldn’t stop himself from imagining all the ways in which he would please her, he wanted to feel her lips against his, he wanted to caress her soft pale skin and he wanted to hear the pretty noises she would make as he sheathed his cock inside her.

He’d been hard as a rock, his cock throbbing with desperate need, and soon as the petition was over, he’d excused himself and returned to his chambers, unlacing his breeches to take himself in hand and sate his desire by fucking his fist.

At the meal, she had chosen to sit next to him, her proximity and the scent of her on the air made the arousal stir within him once again, even more so when she offered him a cup of wine and their fingers briefly touched as he took it from her, throughout the meal they kept exchanging curious looks, her cheeks tinged pink when their gaze connected.

After his final tribute, he had stormed through the corridors of the Red Keep only to find himself standing in front of her chambers, he was about to knock when she opened the door, they exchanged no words as she slowly stepped back and allowed him entry.

As soon as the door was closed, he was on her.

Never had he felt such desire before, he’d been with the madame Sylvi when he was thirteen, he did not enjoy a single second of it and vowed never to return.

It was just after his sixteenth name day that he grew more curious about matters of sex.

He wouldn’t break his vow and return to the brothel, and he didn’t want to mess around with the maids, so he decided on taking a few older widowed noble ladies into his bed, and he was grateful for the experience as they taught him the importance of a woman’s pleasure.

When he took Viserra to bed for the first time, he remembered everything he’d learnt and he took Viserra’s maidenhead that night, and all those pretty noises he imagined her making became a reality.

He spent ample time devouring her cunny as he teased her fold with his fingers, delighting in the way she whimpered his name as she peaked, he placed his cock at her entrance and eased in slowly, not wanting to cause her any pain, but when she squirmed impatiently and moved her hips against his, begging him so sweetly to fuck her harder he lost it.

He knew before he even spilled his seed that he wanted her to be his wife, that previously foreign desire had roared to life inside him and he couldn’t ignore it.

He wanted to ask for her hand in marriage, his mother and grandsire would try to contest it, but his mind was made up, Viserra had returned to Dragonstone the next day and Aemond decided he was going to ask the King.

But before he could even form the words in his mouth, the King was dead, and his drunken wastrel of a brother was crowned instead of Rhaenyra.

The next time he saw Viserra was at Storms End, he was supposed to choose one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters to wed to secure an alliance, and even though the thought turned his stomach he had to lock his true heart’s desire away and do his duty.

But she was angry with him, as she believed the words he whispered to her as he took her maidenhead were false, that he had used her for his own pleasure and she out manoeuvred him and offered herself to Borros who happily accepted.

He had been furious, and when she had been offered a room for the night to wait out the weather, he had demanded the same, then he went to her and they argued fiercely, hurling insults at one another until the passion erupted between them and he spent the night fucking her into the mattress.

With Storms End firmly under Rhaenyra’s yoke, his brother’s reign as King was over, but his own affair with Viserra continued.

He couldn’t let her go, even on the morning of her wedding he fucked her, and it gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction to know that his seed was still dripping from her as she said her vows.

There was the expectation that she would do her duty an provide an heir for Borros, and not too long after the wedding she announced that she was with child.

Willingly siring a child on another man’s wife wasn’t something Aemond ever thought he’d do, but it was what they both wanted, and it would ensure that Borros left her alone.

When she was almost eight moons into her pregnancy, they went to Dragonstone under the cover of night and spoke the words to one another as they used dragon glass to cut their lips, painting each other’s foreheads with the symbols of fire and blood, the identical cuts to their palms, their blood mixing together as one as they pressed their palms together, reciting the ancient words of their forebears.

She might be with wife of Borros Baratheon in the eyes of the seven, but in the traditions of old Valyria she was his.

They day she birthed their son he had wanted so desperately to be by her side, but men were not allowed in the birthing room.

Borros had sequestered himself far away in another part of the Red Keep, drinking wine whilst he waited to hear news of the babe once it was born.

Aemond had remained stationed outside the room with Daemon, who of course knew about Viserra and Aemond’s relationship but chose to say nothing because he would have no harm come to his daughter.

After she had given birth, and the Maester’s had done what they needed to do with regards to things called the after birth and some other stuff Aemond did not need to hear about, there was a moment where he was allowed into the room.

Rhaenyra had commanded that there be no immediate announcement, so there was time for Aemond to meet his child.

She had just birthed their babe and Viserra had never looked more beautiful, Aemond was in awe of her as he approached the bed, in her arms there was a little silver haired babe.

“A son-” muttered Viserra as she held out the tiny bundle.

Aemond sobbed openly as he took his son in his arms. Then Viserra blessed him with the greatest gift in the world when she allowed him to name their son.

“Rhaegar” whispered Aemond as he pressed a gentle kiss to his sons forehead.

Of course, news of Rhaegar’s birth would soon spread, but Aemond was grateful for that moment given to him by Rhaenyra and Daemon, and aside from Viserra he was one of the first that got to hold his son and one of the first to look into those little amethyst eyes.

Deep down he knew that what they were doing was wrong, but he couldn’t stop, and he didn’t want to.

As Lucerys and Rhaena disappeared from sight, the jealousy lingered. Why did those bastard strong boys get to openly marry for love, when he and Viserra were the only ones made to sacrifice their true heart’s desire for the sake of an alliance.

It wasn’t fair.

The thought of Borros, that portly, illiterate swine, being married to his beloved Viserra, filled him with disgust.

He hoped that his seed would soon take root, as the confirmation of another child would mean that prattling pig would scurry back to Storms End and carry on with whatever took his fancy, which was usually a woman, as his taste for mistresses was no secret.

People would look at Viserra with sympathetic eyes, but she gave no shit for her husband’s indulgences, as they often kept him occupied.

But until there was confirmation of another child, here he was in the Red Keep, boasting to all who would listen about the night he spent with his lady wife which he was certain would result in another child.

Aegon's suggestion about Borros suffering an unfortunate accident flickered through his mind, a dark idea that was becoming more and more tempting as time passed.

“I’ve told you before that what your doing is dangerous” warned Rhaenyra.

 “Do you not remember how I begged and pleaded with you not to make me marry Borros? I admitted to my love for Aemond, that surely a marriage between us would have better served our family’s interests-” said Viserra, her voice tight with emotion.

Rhaenyra’s expression hardened, her royal composure slipping just a fraction. “-I do remember. But you must understand, I did not want to be labelled an oath breaker. The marriage to Borros was a strategic move, necessary to prevent the Greens from securing an alliance with Storm’s End.”

Viserra’s eyes narrowed, her frustration boiling over. “A hasty offer made in desperation! There was no binding agreement between me and Borros—. You, as Queen, could have found any number of reasons to avoid the marriage. But no, you forced me into it just as your father did to you”.

Rhaenyra’s face flushed with anger. “That is not fair, Viserra.”

“Isn’t it?” Viserra scoffed. “Wouldn’t things have been much easier if Viserys had allowed you to marry Daemon or even Ser Harwin? But instead, he demanded that you marry Laenor-to make up for him choosing to marry Alicent instead of Laena, and look how that turned out.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with hurt. “You have no right to judge me. I made mistakes, yes, but—”

Viserra cut her off, her voice rising. “And you have no right to judge me for my choices. You had an affair and birthed bastards. That’s different, you say, but it always is when it comes to you.”

“That’s not the same,” Rhaenyra retorted, her voice rising in defence. “Laenor was aware of my involvement with Harwin. He himself had intimacies with others. Borros has no idea of your involvement with Aemond.”

“You yourself have been complicit in covering up my involvement with Aemond, just as my father has-so don’t lecture me” said Viserra.

“I would not see you harmed for it-you’re my daughter. But you need to be careful” replied Rhaenyra.

Viserra’s expression softened slightly, but her resolve remained firm. “I’m trapped mother-I’m married to a man I do not want”.

Rhaenyra sighed heavily, the weight of her daughter’s words sinking in. “I did what I thought was best for the realm”.

Viserra’s anger surged, her face flushed as she struggled to control her rising emotion. “The realm,” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. “It’s always about what’s best for the realm! Jace got to marry Baela, Luke is soon to marry Rhaena. Why is it that I am the only one who had to sacrifice my own heart’s desire for the sake of the realm? It’s not fair!”

Rhaenyra’s expression softened with a mix of guilt and sympathy. She reached out to her daughter, her own heart aching at the sight of Viserra’s distress. “Viserra, please-I know it’s been hard.”

Viserra wiped at her tears, her voice pleading. “Mother, there must be something you can do. Surely there’s a way to fix this. I can’t bear the thought of being stuck in this marriage when my heart is with Aemond.”

Rhaenyra took a deep breath, her face etched with sadness. “I wish I could offer you a solution, but there is no grounds for an annulment. As far as everyone is concerned, the marriage has been consummated and you have borne a son. Rhaegar is officially the son of Borros Baratheon. It doesn’t matter that he is really Aemond’s—what matters is how it appears to the realm.”

Viserra’s shoulders slumped, the weight of her mother’s words hitting her like a physical blow. “So, there’s nothing we can do?”

Rhaenyra shook her head, her own eyes filled with tears. “No, Viserra. The marriage is a matter of public record, and any attempt to dispute it would be disastrous. The realm sees Rhaegar as Borros’ son, and there’s no way to change that without causing further chaos.”

Viserra’s tears fell freely now, her voice a mere whisper. “I just wanted to be with Aemond. To have the life I dreamed of, not this-this cage.”

Rhaenyra embraced her daughter, her own heart breaking at the sight of Viserra’s pain. “I’m so sorry, my love. I wish I could undo everything and give you the happiness you deserve. I truly do.”

Viserra clung to her mother, the tears continuing to flow as she whispered through her sobs. “Then why does it feel like I’m the only one paying the price?”

Rhaenyra stroked Viserra’s hair gently, her own tears mingling with those of her daughter. “Because sometimes, the sacrifices we make for the realm come at the highest personal cost. I never meant for it to be like this for you, but I know that doesn’t make it any easier.”

In the dimly lit chamber of Maester Gerardys, Viserra sat on the edge of a cushioned chair, her expression a mix of apprehension and hope.

The maester, a man of great experience and gentle demeanour, went about his examination with practiced ease.

“Very well, Princess,” Maester Gerardys said, adjusting his spectacles. “Let’s start with some questions to assess your condition. How long has it been since your last monthly bleeding?”

Viserra took a deep breath before answering, “It has been over two moons.”

Gerardys nodded thoughtfully. “Have you experienced any tenderness in your breasts?”

“Yes,” Viserra confirmed.

The Maester’s face broke into a reassuring smile as he finished his examination. “Based on your symptoms and the examination, I can confirm that you are with child again.”

Viserra���s eyes brightened with a mixture of joy and nervousness. She nodded, absorbing the news. “Thank you, Maester Gerardys.”

“As you’ve already given birth before,” Gerardys continued, “you are familiar with what to expect. Nonetheless, I advise you to take things easy. Ensure you maintain a good balance of fruit and meat in your diet. It is important for both your well-being and the health of the child, but you also need to be more mindful of pregnancy related sickness”

Viserra thanked him once more before leaving his chambers, her mind already drifting to the prospect of sharing the news with her family.

As she walked down the corridor towards Helaena’s chambers, her steps were light, her heart buoyant with the news.

When she entered Helaena’s room, a warm scene greeted her: Rhaegar was playing happily with Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor.

The children’s laughter filled the room, creating a pleasant backdrop to the unfolding moment.

Helaena looked up from where she was sitting, a serene smile on her face. “Viserra, is everything alright?”

Viserra’s smile widened as she approached, her eyes sparkling with the joy of her news. “Yes, everything is wonderful. I’m expecting another child.”

Helaena’s face lit up with genuine happiness. “That is wonderful news! Congratulations”

“Thank you” replied Viserra

However, Helaena took Viserra’s hand, her expression grew more serious. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Stags attack if threatened”

Viserra squeezed Helaena’s hand gratefully. “I’ll keep that in mind”

“The dragon grows restless-” muttered Helaena wistfully.

Viserra turned to Rhaegar, who was still engrossed in his play. “It’s time to go, my little one.”

Rhaegar looked up, his face lighting up as he bid farewell to the other children. “Bye-bye, Jaehaerys! Bye-bye, Jaehaera! and Bye-bye, Maelor!”

Viserra lifted him gently into her arms, feeling the familiar weight of him against her chest.

As she carried him out of the room, her heart swelled with affection for her son and the little dragon currently growing inside her.

The grand hall was abuzz with excitement as Borros Baratheon boomed with loud, boisterous cheer.

The announcement of Viserra’s second pregnancy had stirred a flurry of congratulations and celebrations among the lords and ladies.

Borros, unable to contain his delight, put his arm around Viserra’s shoulders, pulling her close in a gesture that bordered on possessive.

“Another child!” Borros declared, his voice carrying over the crowd. “I’m sure this next one will be another boy. My wife is a fertile woman-I shall see you always round with my child-”

Viserra recoiled slightly, her face flushed with discomfort. She reached down to grasp Rhaegar’s hand tightly, her fingers entwining with his.

As the crowd continued to congratulate Borros, the atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by a cutting voice.

“Let’s hope this one actually favours our father more than the last,” came a sharp, disdainful tone.

Viserra turned to see Borros’ daughter’s hovering by the entrance, their expressions twisted with barely concealed disdain.

Cassandra and Floris' lips curled into sneers as they took in Viserra’s presence. She greeted them politely, though their unspoken contempt was not lost on her.

As Borros enthusiastically accepted congratulations from passing lords and ladies, he reached for Rhaegar, who had been standing shyly by his mother’s side. “Come here, Rhaegar. Greet your sisters.”

Rhaegar squirmed in Borros’s grasp; his small face flushed with unease.

As Borros tried to force the boy into a more social posture, Rhaegar began to cry. The sight of his distress only seemed to provoke Borros’s irritation further.

“ENOUGH-” bellowed Borros.

“No-No-Nooooo” wailed Rhaegar.

“Husband-please, he doesn’t want to” urged Viserra as she tried to intervene, ignoring the looks of disdain from Cassandra and Floris.

“Nonsense, the boy will do as he is-”

“-What’s going on here?” asked Aemond as he appeared in the doorway, his eye narrowing as he watched Borros’ rough handling of Rhaegar.

“I’m merely celebrating the good news that my wife is with child again-but as usual my son is being a spoilt brat-” said Borros, with an air of annoyance.

He put Rhaegar down, who immediately ran to Aemond, wrapping his tiny arms around his father’s legs.

Aemond looked down at his son, his heart aching with a protective instinct.

Though he wished he could offer more comfort in public, he settled for gently stroking Rhaegar’s hair, trying to soothe him.

Floris, her cheeks tinged pink, greeted Aemond shyly. “My Prince,” she murmured, her tone softer than her earlier disdain.

Aemond responded with a brief, polite nod, his attention returning to Rhaegar’s tear-streaked face.

“Remarkable isn’t it-how much Rhaegar looks like Prince Aemond,” said Cassandra, ignoring Floris who shook her head slightly.

“Most Targaryen’s favour each other in looks” replied Viserra.

“Remind me again where your brother got their dark hair from?”

“Princess Rhaenys’ mother was a Baratheon, no doubt they inherited it from her” said Viserra.

“Yeah right” muttered Cassandra lowly as she folded her arms over her chest.

Sensing the tension in the air, Aemond quickly lifted Rhaegar into his arms “-Perhaps I should escort Princess Viserra and the young Prince to their chambers,” Aemond suggested, his voice firm but considerate.

Borros waved his hand dismissively. “Very well-I shall you at dinner wife”

“Yes, husband” replied Viserra as she followed Aemond out of the hall, her gaze lingering on Cassandra who was now talking to her father.

Once Aemond had escorted Viserra and Rhaegar back to her chambers, he carefully set Rhaegar down on the soft rug in front of the fire.

The boy, now calm began to play with a se of small wooden dragons.

Aemond turned his attention to Viserra, his heart aching with concern for her.

He crossed the room with purposeful strides and drew her into his arms. The comforting weight of his embrace enveloped her, and he gently stroked her stomach, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Forgive me for not coming sooner,” Aemond murmured, his voice low and earnest. “I was waylaid by news of thieves causing trouble in the city”

Viserra buried her face into Aemond’s gold cloak, drawing solace from the familiar scent of him. “It’s alright,” she whispered, her voice muffled but warm.

Aemond’s brow furrowed slightly as he thought of the earlier encounter. “I did not like seeing Borros’ hands on you or the way he was treating Rhaegar”.

Viserra’s arms tightened around him as she leaned into his embrace. “Now that I’m with child again, he’ll likely return to Storm’s End. He may be less inclined to remain here if he feels secure in the continuation of his line.”

Aemond nodded, holding her closer, his hope mingling with the weariness in his voice. “I hope that is true. I wish for you to be free from his grasp for as long as possible”

“So do I” replied Viserra as she closed her eyes.

Viserra sat at the table, her posture stiff and her fingers barely touching the food on her plate.

The grand dining hall was filled with the sounds of conversation and clinking cutlery as the guests enjoyed their meal.

Borros sat beside her, a heavy hand resting possessively on her arm. Despite the festive atmosphere, Viserra’s mind was clouded with unease.

Rhaenyra, seated across from her, noticed Viserra’s discomfort and leaned in with concern. “Are you alright, Viserra? You seem unwell.”

Viserra forced a faint smile, though her eyes betrayed her discomfort. “The child I carry unsettles my stomach”.

Rhaenyra nodded sympathetically. “I remember that feeling well. When I was pregnant with you, my stomach was very delicate. Only lemon cakes dipped in meat gravy seemed to agree with me.”

“Quite a combination Your Grace” laughed Borros.

“A dragons tastes are known to be capricious my Lord” replied Rhaenyra.

As the meal continued, Viserra’s gaze wandered around the table. She noticed Floris’s eyes firmly fixed on Aemond, who was deeply engaged in conversation with Aegon.

Helaena stared intently at her fork, muttering about how "The beast will devour-"

Lucerys and Rhaena giggled quietly, their mirth a stark contrast to the tension Viserra felt.

Daemon held Rhaenyra’s hand, whispering something into her ear, and Alicent was engrossed in conversation with Cassandra.

Viserra, trying to maintain her composure, leaned towards Borros and spoke discreetly. “Will you be returning to Storm’s End soon?”

Borros’s face lit up with a satisfied smile. “Yes, but I wish for you to accompany me. Now that you’re expecting my second child, it’s only right that the child be raised where he will one day rule.”

Viserra’s eyes widened in surprise. “But surely, I need not come so soon. There’s no immediate need for me to leave the Red Keep.”

Borros’s expression hardened. “You have been away from my side for far too long. It will also do Rhaegar some good to experience life outside of Kings Landing”

Viserra’s gaze shifted to Aemond, who was staring intently at Borros, his hand gripping the fork with visible tension.

“I also have high hopes that the Queen will grant my request for Floris to marry Prince Aemond” said Borros.

“W-What?” asked Viserra, her heart pounding in her chest as looked over at Floris who was smiling.

“As I said my Lord, the decision lies with Aemond” said Rhaenyra, her gaze flickering to Viserra who had gone very pale.

“I do hope you consent to the match Aemond-the Lady Floris is a good choice” said Alicent happily.

“Yes it would be nice to see the Prince with a wife of his own” said Cassandra smirking as she took a sip of wine.

“W-Well I-I-” muttered Aemond awkwardly.

Floris’s expression was hopeful as she took Aemond’s hand and said, “I will be a good wife to you my Prince and provide you with as many children as you desire”

The words were like a blade to Viserra’s heart. Her vision blurred as nausea overwhelmed her.

Before she could stop herself, she leaned over the table and vomited, the contents of her stomach splattering across the fine linens.

Panic and embarrassment surged through her as she looked around, the room now filled with shocked gasps and murmurs.

Ignoring Rhaenyra’s frantic calls and the concerned looks of the others, Viserra stumbled to her feet and fled the dining room.

Viserra fled through the corridors of the Red Keep, her footsteps echoing off the stone walls as her breath came in ragged gasps.

She burst into her chambers; the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind her. Without hesitation, she flung herself onto the bed, the soft fabric doing nothing to cushion the weight of her despair.

Viserra buried her face in the pillows, her sobs wracking her body. The thought of Aemond marrying Floris was a knife twisting in her heart, a cruel mockery of her dreams.

She felt suffocated by the expectations and the secret she could no longer bear to keep.

The idea of being taken to Storm’s End gnawed at her with a relentless ache. The Red Keep was her home.

It was where she had made memories, where Rhaegar had been born where he had learned to walk and talk.

She couldn’t bear the thought of uprooting her life, of moving to a place where she would be miserable.

It would also mean tearing Rhaegar away from Aemond, who had been a steadfast presence in their lives.

Viserra’s tears soaked the pillows as she clutched them tightly. The weight of the lies, the secrecy, and the constant deception felt insurmountable.

Her heart ached with the realization that she had become a mere piece in a game she had never chosen to play. The facade she maintained was crumbling, the strain of it all too much to bear.

The soft click of the secret entrance behind the portrait barely disturbed the silence in Viserra's chamber.

The portrait swung open with a muted creak, and Aemond slipped through the hidden passageway.

Seeing Viserra crumpled on the bed, her shoulders shaking with the weight of her sobs, his heart clenched in response.

Aemond approached the bed and sat down gently on the edge, his movements deliberate and tender.

Without a word, he reached out and enfolded her in his arms. His hand moved soothingly up and down her back, the touch a silent promise of his unwavering support.

“Shh, Viserra,” he whispered softly, his voice a calming balm to her frayed nerves. “It’s alright. I’m here.”

Viserra’s sobs gradually quieted as she leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his presence. She clung to him, her tears slowing as she felt the strength and steadiness of his touch.

“I will not marry Floris,” Aemond murmured, his voice filled with a deep, resolute certainty. “There is no one else who will ever compare to you. You have my heart, Viserra. Always.”

Viserra’s breath hitched, her heart aching with the intensity of his declaration. She tilted her head slightly to look up at him, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears.

“You have mine” whispered Viserra.

“I will never forget the vows we spoke to one another on Dragonstone,” he said softly. “The dragon glass, our blood joined together as one, the cuts on our palms. Our night beneath the stars, making love as husband and wife in the ways of old Valyria.”

Aemond’s fingers traced gentle patterns on her back, his touch conveying the depth of his emotions.

The memories of that night, the sacred promises they had made, the bond they had forged, were all rekindled in his words.

The night had been a testament to their love, a moment of unity and passion that had forever intertwined their fates.

Viserra felt the weight of his words and the sincerity behind them. Her tears had slowed to a soft, steady stream as she absorbed the reassurance in his voice.

In his embrace, Viserra found a moment of peace, a respite from the chaos that had threatened to overwhelm her.

The gentle rhythm of Aemond’s breathing, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, provided a soothing counterpoint to the storm of emotions that had consumed her.

Aemond returned to his chambers with a heavy heart, the weight of his earlier conversation with Viserra still pressing upon him.

He was eager for solitude, for a moment to collect his thoughts away from the pressures and expectations of the court.

But as he opened the door to his chamber, he was met with an unexpected sight.

Floris was lounging in his bed, her form draped casually beneath the sheets.

“What are you doing here?” Aemond demanded, his voice sharp and commanding.

Floris stretched languorously, her expression a mix of amusement and defiance. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she purred, her voice smooth and inviting.

Aemond’s irritation flared. “Get out,” he ordered.

Unperturbed, Floris slowly rose from the bed, revealing her naked body. Aemond quickly averted his gaze, his jaw tightening.

“I’ve wanted you ever since you came to Storm’s End seeking a marriage, when you had us all line up-I knew you were going to choose me” Floris said, her voice a sultry whisper as she moved closer to him.

Aemond’s face hardened. “That was then. This is now. Things have changed” he said with a steely resolve.

Floris’ eyes glinted with a mixture of challenge and seduction. “Are you not tempted by me?”

“No,” Aemond replied, his tone clipped.

Floris stepped closer; her gaze fixed on his. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not tempted.”

Aemond turned to meet her gaze, but before he could respond, Floris closed the distance between them and kissed him.

The touch of her lips was insistent, but Aemond’s reaction was immediate. He pushed her away, his expression a mix of frustration and anger.

“I said get out,” he repeated, his voice firm and unyielding.

Floris stumbled slightly, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and indignation.

Aemond grabbed her gown from where it lay discarded on the floor and threw it at her, the fabric landing with a soft thud at her feet.

“Get dressed and leave my chambers,” he ordered with steely determination.

Floris, visibly shaken but maintaining her composure, quickly dressed.

As she was about to leave, she shot Aemond a venomous look. “I know about your involvement with Viserra,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. “Perhaps you should consider that while you’re turning me away.”

“How?” asked Aemond.

“Oh please-I’m not blind. You can’t keep your eye off her, and your always hovering around one another” replied Floris as she came closer.

“That doesn’t mean anything” snapped Aemond.

“Of course it does, not to mention Rhaegar is identical to you, he has your sharp features-” said Floris as she reached out and ran her fingers along his chin.

“What do you want in return for your silence?” Aemond demanded, his voice low and tense as he moved away.

Floris, her demeanour cool and calculated, met his gaze with a hint of amusement. “What makes you think I intend to keep it quiet?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened. “If you were going to tell your father, you would have done so already. You clearly have some intention of using this information to get something you want.”

Floris smiled, a sly, predatory smile. “You’re correct.”

“So, what do you want?” asked Aemond.

“I want you” replied Floris.

Aemond scoffed, clearly irritated. “I’m not interested.”

Floris’ eyes narrowed, but her tone remained steady. “In exchange for my silence, you will agree to the marriage.”

Aemond’s face hardened. “I refuse.”

Floris raised an eyebrow. “Then let me warn you. If my father finds out about Viserra’s affair and the fact that Rhaegar isn’t his son but yours, what do you think will happen to them? Not even the Queen could save her whore of a daughter and her bastard grandson.”

Aemond’s rage erupted. He seized Floris by the throat and slammed her against the wall, his grip vice-like. “You dare threaten my wife and son?”

Floris’s eyes widened in shock. “Wife?” she managed to croak out, her voice strained.

“Yes,” Aemond said, his eyes burning with intensity. “Viserra is my wife in the ways of old Valyria.”

Floris laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “And yet my point still stands. You either agree to marry me or I will tell my father everything.”

“Why would you want to marry a man who’s heart belongs to another” snarled Aemond.

“I’m not interested in your heart-” muttered Floris her gaze shamelessly moving over Aemond’s form.

“I wouldn’t touch you, not even for all the gold in the Iron Bank” said Aemond.

“If you want me to keep my mouth shut you will” replied Floris.

"I'm not interested and I never will be, why would you bind yourself to me-"

"You are a Prince, by our marriage I would be a Princess-" said Floris.

"Seven give me strength-this isn't some dreamy fantasy straight from the pages of a novel, where you think that if we get married then I'll some how fall in love with you and everything will all be sunshine and rainbows" snapped Aemond.

"That's not-"

"-Of course it is. Get it through your head. I don't want you and I never will. I don't know how many more times I have to say it before you listen" retorted Aemond.

"I-I w-will-t-tell" stammered Floris.

Aemond’s expression twisted into a dark smile as he leaned in close, his cheek brushing against hers.

“If you breathe a word of my involvement with Viserra to anyone-” he whispered, his voice a deadly promise, “-I will kill you and I will have Vhagar burn Storms End to the ground,”

Floris shivered under his threat, her eyes wide with fear and realization. She nodded quickly, her bravado faltering under the weight of his ominous vow.

Aemond released her, stepping back and letting her stumble away from him. “Leave,” he commanded coldly. “And remember what I’ve said.”

Floris, her composure shattered, turned and fled the room, leaving Aemond alone with the echoes of his promise and the grim determination to protect his family at any cost.

The next morning, Aemond found himself pacing in the shadows of a secluded corridor in the Red Keep, waiting for the one man he could confide in.

Daemon eventually strode into view, his usual swagger tempered with a slight tilt of curiosity.

"Out with it, nephew. You didn’t ask me to meet you here for pleasantries."

Aemond took a deep breath before he began. "Floris knows about Viserra and me. She knows Rhaegar is my son and she tried to blackmail me into marrying her in exchange for her silence."

Daemon’s eyes darkened slightly, his hand twitching toward the hilt of Dark Sister. "Go on."

"I refused and I did threaten her. But I don’t trust her to keep her silence. If Floris tells her father-" Aemond’s voice wavered, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Daemon was silent for a moment, thinking, his expression hard and unreadable. "-We can’t risk that," he said, his tone decisive. "I will not have Viserra’s name tarnished, or Rhaegar being declared illegitimate. And I won’t stand by and watch my daughter suffer any longer."

Aemond’s eye flashed with surprise at Daemon’s words. It was rare for his uncle to speak so openly about his affections.

"I regret ever letting her marry Borros," Daemon continued, a note of bitterness in his voice. "I knew she didn’t want it. I knew she loved you, not him. I allowed it for the sake of alliances, but no more. I want my daughter to be happy, and that won’t happen as long as she’s shackled to that fat oaf." He paused, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps it’s time Viserra’s marriage to Borros Baratheon comes to an end."

Aemond frowned, his gaze sharp as he considered the implications. "I thought there was no way to annul the marriage."

Daemon let out a low chuckle, his eyes gleaming. "Annulled? Perhaps not. But there are other ways to rid oneself of an unwanted spouse."

The meaning behind Daemon’s words sank in quickly. Aemond’s lips parted in realization. "You’re not suggesting—"

Daemon held up a hand, silencing him. "I’m not going to soil my own hands with it. But rest assured, Borros won’t trouble Viserra for much longer." His voice was calm, almost casual, as though discussing the weather. "Leave it to me. I’ll handle it."

Aemond, though still conflicted, nodded slowly. "And what am I to do in the meantime?"

"Make sure you’re seen," Daemon replied smoothly. "Tend to your duties. Be where you’re supposed to be and let no one have reason to suspect anything unusual”.

Aemond hesitated, his concern for Viserra momentarily overtaking his thirst for vengeance. "Are you sure this is the only way?"

Daemon’s smile was all teeth, a glint of menace in his eyes. "I told you, nephew. I won’t watch my daughter waste away in misery any longer. Borros Baratheon has outlived his usefulness."

With that, Daemon turned on his heel, his cloak swirling behind him as he made his way down the corridor, leaving Aemond standing in quiet contemplation.

Aemond clenched his jaw. For the first time, he felt both hope and unease twisting in his gut. Borros’ days were numbered.

[the-monstermash]

UNBROKEN BETROTHALS pt.5

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Synopsis: After running away from an unwanted proposal, you find yourself working in a brothel as a cook. When a certain guest takes an odd liking to you, secrets are revealed and betrothals unbroken

Warnings: Angst, Brothels, Mature, 18+, Smut, Explicit Language, P in V, 

Word Count: 1,547

> A/N: I FINALLY finished this series, my first ever series! So sorry for the delay, I had some major emergencies that took all my time and energy for a while!

Walking towards the light in the Godswood had set your nerves on fire. You were panting, shaky, and even fighting some dizziness. Your mother whispered reassurances to you, which helped urge you to the opening.

The weirwood tree was stunning, its branches stretching out at least seven feet, the leaves a bright shade of red. It didn’t hold your attention for long, as your eyes fell upon Aemond, who was already looking at you. He glanced at your mother, his eye widening in panic for a second, and looked to you in question. A small smile was enough to ease his worry, and he straightened himself up and turned to Aegon, who was rested against the Weirwood tree and reading from an old book.

“Who comes before…the Old Gods this night?” He slurred, clearly disinterested. Your mother announced your name and title, and what your intentions were that night.

“Who comes to claim her?” Your mother turned to Aemond, who had stepped forward taken you from your mothers reluctant embrace.

“Aemond Targaryen, Prince of the seven kingdoms. Who gives her?”

Your mother recited her title, though the ringing in your ears made it hard to make out. You’d fallen silent, and Aemond turned back to Aegon, who was struggling to catch up to the line we were currently reciting.

“Do you take him?” Aegon smiled, seeming proud of himself.

“I take this man.” You said proudly, and Aemond leaned in to kiss your lips. “That is not tradition.: You whispered smugly.

“I could not help myself, Lady Wife.”

“Well, now that that’s done.” Aegon stumbled his was from the Godswood, in search of fun and debauchery, to be sure.

Your mother stood a few steps from you and Aemond, staring as if to appraise the two of you, deciding if she approved the match. Finally, the corners of her mouth tightened in a resigned smile, she sighed and reached out to pet your head.

“My sweet girl.” She leaned in to place a simple kiss on your temple. “My son.” She raised her head at Aemond, who bowed his head respectfully. “I hope you are ready for what comes tomorrow. For now, enjoy this night together.” And with that, she turned to leave.

There was a contented silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t long before Aemond was leading you out of the Godswood.

“People will notice us here if we remain. We should go back to our chambers for the night. I’ll prepare for our family’s ire, I’m sure there will be hell to pay tomorrow.”

“They will approve, won’t they?”

“It doesn’t matter. The wedding was witnessed, and performed by the king himself. Who could refute it?” He ran his fingers through your loose hair, brushing it from your shoulder. “I’ll escort you to your chambers to not raise suspicion.”

You nodded and followed arm in arm to his chambers. There was a difference in the way he held you now, something that wasn’t there before. A possessiveness. Servants’ gazes lingered in the halls, as if they could see the union between you like some universal aura. The halls were pretty abandoned, only lingering maids and servants coming to snuff candles and feed fires for their masters.

When you came upon your chamber door, you both stood there in silence for a few seconds, though it felt like much longer. There was only one other maid in the hall, and your eyes followed her until she retreated before addressing Aemond.

“I can’t believe we did that.” Your eyes were alight with mirth, your lips turning up with a half-hidden smile. “It will be a scandal tomorrow. It’s like people already know.”

“There is nothing that could keep me from taking you as my wife.” He leaned in, planting a soft kiss to your lips. He tried to retreat, but you followed him with your mouth, lengthening the kiss until he fully straightened so you could not reach him. “You’ll need rest for tomorrow.”

“Stay with me.” His eyes looked over your head, looking at your chamber door.

“I do not think it wise, we are in enough trouble as it is.”

“It is our wedding night…” His gaze shot down to yours. “Should we not…consummate?” His eyes drifted close at the mere thought, a shiver running down your spine as if the words left a chill in the air. “You mentioned earlier…that if we consummated it they’d have to recognize the union.”

“So I did.” He smirked and reached around you for the knob of your chambers, opening it and herding you inside quickly. He closed the door and locked it, moving to take his coat off. “I know you are naive in the ways of husband and wife, so I will do my best to teach you.”

“It will hurt.” You offered your limited knowledge. “All the women say it hurts.”

“I’ll make it pleasurable for you. I want my wife to enjoy her wedding night.”

“With my husband here to hold me, I can’t imagine not enjoying it.” He began stripping himself, and you did the same, pulling the strings of your gown until it fell, pooling at your feet.

You had just stepped out of it when he reached for you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you close. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he guided you towards the bed, tossing you onto your back and kneeling over you.

“Forgive the lack of ceremony, wife. I’ve waited a long time for this night. You’ll have to excuse my eagerness.”

“A lack of eagerness would be most disrespectful, I think.” Your giggle was silenced by his lips on yours, your body melting into the bed with each touch.

When his hands made their way to your hip bones, you jerked in anticipation. You felt alive, in a way you had never experienced before, like white hot coals, you were still, but with one small touch you came alive.

His calloused hands massaged into your hip bones, soothing you enough to finally breathe again, a relief you didn’t know you’d been deprived of. When one of his hands made its way towards your chaste flower, you gripped his forearm in a bid for control.

“Breathe, my love. Allow me to have you, to take you. You must give yourself to me, wholly.” His words were breathy, and with your nod, he removed your hand from his arm and placed it by your head, where you grasped at the pillows in an attempt to ground yourself.

His touch returned, and as his fingers massaged and prodded the most forbidden parts of you, your ardent sighs floated through the still night, the only accompaniment were the crackling of the fire. You weren’t sure just what he was doing, only that you enjoyed it tremendously. Was this what it always felt like? How could all those women bitch about their duties, when it felt like this? His finger slid down your canyon, following the slick down to the hole, where he dipped only the tip of his index in, sinking until your sighs cut to gasps and your hands indented the pillow.

It was a slight, stinging pain, not unbearable but enough to surface you from your sea of pleasure. His fingertip sank into your tight hole, until you felt the rest of his knuckles rest against you. He resumed his massaging motions, gliding in and out against the fading resistance. When he seemed satisfied with his work, he removed his fingers and pushed himself up your body, resting a hand by your head and grasping himself with the other.

His fist stroked his hard cock, rubbing it against you to collect your slick. As he rested the tip against your entrance, he looked to you for approval. A jerky nod was all he needed to push himself into you.

The pain was minute, only a slight burn quickly overshadowed by the all-consuming flames of pleasure he had doused you in. Your moans called to him as he set his pace, groaning with the wet sounds of your bodies meeting over and over again.

“I won’t last, wife. Not this night.” His voice pleaded for something, though you weren’t sure what. A tightening in your gut made your legs squeeze his waist. “Let go for me, wife. Have your pleasures, and feel my seed fill your womb.” His pace increased as the knot tightened within you.

You called out his name as the knot snapped, your legs trembled and your eyes clamped shut. He moaned out, continuing his thrusts until he finished, stilling inside you and groaning as his seed filled you to the brim.

The two of you were silent for a long while, he laid beside you and pulled you to his chest as you tried to catch your breath. He rubbed your back in circles and kissed your forehead.

“Did you enjoy yourself, wife?"

"Very much so. I can understand the passion of whores, if every night is spent in such bliss.” You smiled at his chortled response.

“I love you, my dear sweet wife." 

“And I, you." He sighed in content as you both drifted to sleep, enjoying the serenity you were sure to relish come tomorrow.

@mamawiggers1980 @dahlias-and-marigolds @staarflowerr @aemondwhoresworld @uhnanix

[hcgossips]

Qué será, será.

Whatever will be, will be.

The future's not ours to see.

Qué será, será.

What will be, will be.

All we have to do is wait a few more years or even, months. Pretenders always end up revealed and exposed. And, Natalie can't hide her baby forever nor stay hostage. I'm sure she's being well paid, but really missing her party friends. She won't stand to disappear and she's probably missing her promiscuous life.

And, when she shows the baby, we will see who he/she looks like. If he looks like an European or a Latin, for example. Dad will, proudly, want to post pics of his child for algorithms, especially being so happy in love and in life. It might take a while, but we will know. She will have to go out and take her baby out to get some light and people are everywhere with cel phones. Natalie and her baby can't hide forever.

But, let's play with our imagination and suppose, for a while, that Henry and Natalie are, in fact, married for over four years, husband and wife for more than four years and that this ridiculous circus was their brilliant, pathetic idea to introduce his m*stress to the world. If so, this guy is an idiotic. But, it's really hard to make this exercise when there are so many red flags of his misery during the last four years, while this woman seemed to give a f*ck.

If so pleased and happy with his romantic situation and so "proud of being her man", he wouldn't give a damn about what his fans thought about his PR (?) "wife", who is still a girlfriend on social media, and they would actually look like a real couple, not colleagues who get together for promotional pics and lousy romantic performances of a fake happiness, staging a circus, while she promotes her breasts.

But, the same way this shenanigan started, it ended. Abruptly, without a clue. No one has a clue on how, where and when these two met and now, Mr. Perfect went back to performing his old single bachelor persona, not the father figure, despite promising we would "have more of it". He should win an Oscar. And he has lived as if these four years had never happened, switching characters as if switching a key. Like a movie that took four years to be produced, launched, exhibited and promoted.

Maybe, he had regretted exhibiting his promiscuous "wife" (?) as a sl*t, as a good misogynist would do, and now, had decided to stop with the circus. But, I thought they were having fun. And his algorithms were increasing by exposing his promiscuous to public execration. So, why stop now? I don't believe a child would stop both. They love the attention and even pay paps to follow them around. They wouldn't blink for a second to use "their child" to increase their algorithm even more.

They used a sick dying dog, for Christ sake! Why not a child? Henry is a money maker gulable for attention. That's all he thinks of: Money and spotlight. That's why he became an escort in many PR stunts, because those are way more lucrative for his pocket and image, allowing him to always perform a new show for a new PR contract.

Someone here suggested a PR marriage would be more logical if he wanted to hide his sexuality. OK. But, it turns out that marriage (fake or real) would publicly turn him into a boring and steady guy, he wouldn't increase his algorithm that much with the marriage narrative and it wouldn't call much of attention after a while nor produce that amount of gossip on the internet.

But, escorting in fake-dates with many... Well, that certainly causes a fuss and allows him to make money as an escort and always be in evidence, each year or so, with a different chick every now and then. But, back to our exercise, can somebody explain to me how a single bachelor, who enjoys parties, smoozing and boozing with a bunch of drunk and gay friends and a loner life, all of a sudden, from one day to another, becomes a father of a promiscuous' baby?

Oh! Yes! He enjoys the smoozing and boozing in nightclub parties and she apparently, came out of one of those nightclub promiscuous' parties from Mayhem and that's how they met. Or maybe, she was never promiscuous, but, a very religious, pure, respected, steady woman, who was a victim for having a promiscuous porn actress as a double. One way or another, no doubt they were made for each other. Funny, if not tragic.

So, if you wanna know the true story of this plot, just wait and see what the future may bring. Qué sera, será.

[sabrinajenre96]

Episode thirty two -“Kojo Appreciation Day”

Michael Robinavitch x wife reader x kojo x the kids

Episode Summary: Spencer, inspired by Kojo’s unwavering loyalty, decides to host a surprise “Kojo Appreciation Day” at the hospital, dragging Jack, Sabrina, and several unsuspecting staff members into her latest whirlwind event. With Y/N now 5 months pregnant and taking it a bit easier, Jack and Sabrina get a firsthand dose of Spencer’s brand of chaos while Michael tries to keep the ER running smoothly around her.

---

It started like all things Spencer Robinavitch started: with glitter, a clipboard, and an idea no one saw coming.

“I think it’s time we honor Kojo,” Spencer declared one morning at breakfast. “He does everything. Security. Emotional support. Taste tester. Nurse's assistant. Personal therapy dog. He needs a day.”

Michael, bleary-eyed, stared at her over his coffee. “He’s a dog.”

“A hero,” Spencer corrected, feeding Kojo a scrambled egg under the table.

Sawyer grinned over her cereal. “You’re actually not wrong.”

Y/N—gently rubbing her belly and chuckling—nodded. “I think the hospital could use something lighthearted. Especially in the middle of flu season.”

“YES!” Spencer jumped up. “I’m calling it Kojo Appreciation Day. Uncle Jack and Aunt Sabrina are going to help me. The Pitt will be decorated. There will be cupcakes. Kojo will wear a crown. Maybe even scrubs!”

Michael froze with a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. “Wait, what?”

---

Hospital – Later That Day

Jack and Sabrina walked into the hospital expecting a normal day—rounds, surgeries, maybe a trauma consult.

What they got instead was:

Spencer standing at the nurse’s station with a clipboard and headset.

Kojo in a mini scrub top, wagging his tail and wearing a plastic “ER HERO” badge.

The hallway decked out with hand-drawn posters: “Thank You Kojo,” “Most Valuable Paw,” and “Employee of the Month – Kojo Robinavitch.”

Sabrina blinked. “She made a laminated schedule.”

Jack looked down at the clipboard Spencer handed him. “You’ve assigned me to ‘emotional support dog handler’ duty?”

Spencer beamed. “You and Aunt Sabrina are part of the team. You're officially on my Pitt staff today.”

“Do I at least get a coffee break?”

“No. Kojo doesn’t take coffee breaks. Neither should you.”

Y/N arrived shortly after, escorted by a nurse and snacking on grapes. “I told her to tone it down. She said this was already ‘the chill version.’”

Michael passed by mid-rush, eyes wide at the posters and the mini “paw medals” taped to the walls. “Why are we treating my hospital like it’s the Westminster Dog Show?”

“Because Kojo is the best in show,” Spencer said with a wink.

---

Throughout the Day:

Kojo sat at the triage desk, wearing reading glasses (fake), as Spencer dictated pretend charts to him.

Nurses joined in, sneaking treats to Kojo and petting him in between shifts.

Sabrina was recruited to assist Spencer in a “Kojo Checkup Station” with stuffed animals lined up—each getting vitals and diagnosis tags.

Jack tried to sneak away until Spencer handed him a stuffed giraffe and whispered, “Dr. Porter, this one has a heart murmur. STAT.”

Michael officially banned glitter by 3 PM after it ended up inside his stethoscope.

Y/N laughed through the entire thing from her office, holding her belly as the baby kicked every time Spencer squealed with excitement.

---

That Evening – Post “Appreciation Day” Wind-down

Dinner at home was calm—miraculously.

Spencer had passed out on the couch, still wearing her custom “Kojo’s #1 Fan” badge. Kojo snored softly on the floor beside her, paws twitching in dreams of treats and plush stethoscopes.

Jack sat at the dining table, eyes dazed. “She made me do six rounds of stuffed animal CPR. One of them was a snake.”

“She takes after me,” Sabrina said proudly, sipping her tea.

“She takes after you on glitter crimes,” Michael muttered.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, hand on her belly, smiling. “I think we all needed that.”

Sawyer piped up from the kitchen island, grinning. “I’m just glad it wasn’t me doing the chaos for once.”

Michael looked at her. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

---

Closing Scene:

Spencer stirred from her nap and yawned.

“Next week we’re doing ‘Thank You, Janitor Dave’ day.”

Michael groaned.

Jack whispered, “I’m calling in sick.”

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Two Sides~

Living in a small town came with its ups and downs. Everybody knew everybody, so any scandal or gossip was sure to spread like wildfire. That's how you came in contact with Lilith, the older woman who lived next to you.

You inherited your childhood home from your parents when they decided to retire and live life without you and your siblings. Moving back was not your ideal decision, but given your finances and how things were going, it was your best opportunity. 

Moving helped you get closer to Lilith, a sweet woman in her mid-forties who was traversing life. She loved to sing and bake, demonstrating the good ideals of a comforting housewife. Yet when her husband would come around, the yelling and screaming said otherwise.

This is a small town, and with the gossip and rumors, it was decided that Lilith and her estranged husband were unfit for one another. No one would say that to their faces, though. However, Lilith would constantly tell you about the horrid things her husband would do and be up to. 

He was a prominent CEO, owning a relatively large company and offering her riches farther than the eye could see. She never spoke of the business name or description; she just said he was loaded. You would have thought she was a liar had you not been inside her house multiple times. She was a picture-perfect trophy wife, and photos of her were displayed all over the house, none with her husband and only a few with her grown child.

You worked a humbling job of a good old 9-5 in a cramped office. The smell of coffee and B.O. around every corner. Yet that didn’t stop your young, spry self from partying on the weekends. Though your town was small, just down the road an hour or so, was a lovely big city with many clubs to party at.

Lilith liked to vicariously live through you, listening to your tales of the dance clubs and the partners you would go home with some nights. She also loved to discuss city life, as that was where her husband had moved her from. Giving Lilith these little moments filled your heart with warmth as you got to help make her feel more at ease with the rough relationship.

Tonight, though, was a Saturday night, and many of your old high school friends wanted to hit the club down by the big office building in the city. You were dressed in a candy apple red sequin dress with gold pumps and a snake clip in your hair. “Ready to go?” As you hopped in your friend's car, you saw Lilith sitting outside waving at you. 

Heading out, the pre-party had already begun, with shots being taken as you guys made it to the club. Once there, it wasn’t hard to get in five pretty women, and a $20 tip, you oh so nicely gave the bouncer who escorted you all in. Once there, the group made their way to a side table where they could take turns getting drinks and dancing. 

You were out on the dance floor having the time of your life, singing and dancing with your girls, when you felt the sensation of eyes on you. Turning to look for the intruder, your eyes landed on something far better than you expected. Upon the VIP booth sat beautiful bright blue eyes staring down at you. 

The man was older, but god, was he gorgeous, from his eyes to the perfectly styled blonde hair, the easy grin, and the lithe body. He sat leaning back on the booth with a predatory smile. The game was on as soon as you two made direct eye contact. You were going to be his by the end of the night. 

Motioning to his two guards, they went down to you and asked you to follow them. Never breaking eye contact, you nodded and were led right to the lion's den. Sitting next to the older man, you get an even better look at him. Gorgeous was an understatement. He was damn near a devil with how sexy he was. 

His white suit was opened, showing the candy-red button-up half undone. His chest was proudly displayed, along with the intoxicating smell and jewelry he wore. You were fascinated immediately.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here alone, doll?” You melted at the nickname. The alcohol and heat between your legs cloud your mind. You were leaning in closer to the man, seeking any reprieve.

“I came with friends; however, I don’t have to leave with them.” You hoped he understood what you were implying. As a smirk spread across his face, you realized you both had a common goal. 

He motioned for you to be given a drink. After you had said your order, a firm arm wrapped around your waist. Pulling you in closer, you rested right up against him, and his body heat was maddening. “My name’s Lucifer. What’s yours, sweetheart? With that dress, I might just have to call you Apple.”

“Y/N, but you can call me whatever you want, sir.” He purred at the name you gave him, instructing you to keep calling him that. You had a few more drinks with the man, learning of his business and his frequencies at this club. He was a well-known tycoon owner and was loaded—a lot like Lilith's husband. You were escorted to his car shortly after your chance meeting. The BMW was all black and sleek; as he helped you get in, he grabbed your ass playfully, causing you to squeak and giggle at him. 

You two spent the evening at your house since his was occupied. There should have been your clue to ask more, but the way his voice sounded, and the touches sent heat to your core; it was like your brain wasn’t wired right.

Arriving at your home, he helped you out. It was late at night, and you helped him to your home. The minute the door closed, his hands were on you like he would lose you if they weren’t. Hot, passionate kisses that left you breathless and wanting more filled your lips. Hands were roaming each other's bodies. 

As you two made out, the direction of your movements led you two to the bedroom and on the queen bed. As he laid you back, he stood up in front of you, a smirk on his devilish face. “Now listen, it’s still sir from now on, got it. Do as I say, and I’ll treat you good, princess. Listen well, and maybe I’ll keep returning to enjoy what’s between these legs.”

You nodded, mind clouding faster than at the bar, “Yes, Sir,” A quick Good Girl was heard as he dove into your neck, kissing and biting you all over; as soon as he found the spot that had you mewling he abused it leaving a bright purple mark on your neck. Slowly, he worked his way down to the tops of your breasts and shimmied your dress down. 

With your chest now exposed, you thanked past you for deciding no bra was brilliant with this dress. His hot mouth circled your perky bud so gently, every so often taking a harsh suck or tantalizing bite to get a sound from you. He made quick work of using his other hand to pull and stroke your other bud. As soon as he had his fill abusing your one mound, he traded places, listening to you succumb to his touch. 

“Please, Sir, more please…” You could feel Lucifer's smirk on your skin; he was enjoying himself too much. Sitting you up on the bed, he stripped his jacket and button-up shirt, making quick work of your dress. Pushing you down on the bed, he slotted himself between your legs. “Please tell me what you want, princess.” You whimpered softly at his words. You felt so good and so small at the same time. Motioning to your clothed cunt he smiled and shook his head. A light smack was applied to your spread thighs. As you gasped, he spoke. “I said use your words, princess.” Like you were hypnotized, you spoke again, “My pussy, Sir, please…” He smiled and rewarded you with another ‘Good Girl’ and a deep searing kiss. His kisses trail from your lips down your neck to the swell of your breasts, down your stomach, and right above your panty line. Looking down at him, you whine softly. There, Lucifer was the most beautiful man you laid eyes on, face inches from your clothed soaking cunt, and he was smirking like he won the best prize. 

“Candy red is my favorite; I would almost think you dressed up like this just to lure me in, princess,” He placed his nose and mouth against your heat and inhaled before licking a thick stripe over your panties. “I am going to make you cum so much you can only think of me in this bed, darling.” You moaned loudly as he ripped the offensive cloth off your body.

Burying his face back into your pussy his mouth was divine. Every mewl and moan followed by a ‘Sir’ left you with his long tongue sliding in and out of you. He knew the perfect level of abusing your sensitive clit and then bullying your cunt with his tongue. He had you melting, and as he expertly rolled your bundle of nerves between his teeth, you began to see stars. The familiar bundle of white-hot need in your core was growing, something only toys and your hands could do. 

As you arched off the bed begging to cum his tongue was replaced by smooth thick fingers as he spread open your entrance with his fingers. His skillful mouth expertly played with your clit till you finally screamed your high at its peak. He didn’t stop, though; even as you convulsed and cried, he kept the overstimulation going till he pulled another sweet body-shaking orgasm out of you. 

Once he had his fill, he slowly sat up, face covered in a sheen of your slick. You almost came again just from the sight. Your body was tired, yet your aching whole clenched around nothing. Lucifer smiled and climbed out of bed, unbuckling his pants and letting them fall to the ground.

Rolling your head to look at the length you were taken back, the pale length was considerable and girthy, thick veins coating the sides begging to be squeezed by your walls. The red tip was fiery and throbbing, begging to release the load he was holding back after watching you cum for him. 

Climbing back between your legs, he lined himself up with your sopping cunt. You nodded slowly and whined as he entered your tight hole. “That’s it, Good Girl, your cunts are already so greedy for my cock.” Slowly, he rocked in you so as not to unload himself already. As he rocked, you began to relax around him and feel every curve and vein on the massive cock in you. 

Once you were consistently moaning and babbling, ‘Yes sirs’ and ‘Please harders, ’ he bent you entirely in half and began to fuck you hard. You had never felt anything like this or felt your bed shake as bad as it was now. He had your knees to your ears, hands holding the pudge of your stomach, and his shoulders keeping your legs apart. His cock was throbbing and only growing more in your cunt. As he fucked you deep in a mating press, a thick white frothy ring appeared around the base of his cock. Your screams and moans covered the squelching and slapping noises. Lucifer's grunts became more and more animalistic as he pounded into you. His pace faltered as he neared his limits; leaning back slightly, he placed the pad of his thumb against your clit and began rubbing it with just the correct pressure. As you began to see starts, Lucifer's moans became whimpers as he held himself back, waiting for you to cum a third time.

As soon as he got you over the edge, he was over you once again, slamming his cock so far in his balls seated against your ass. A few good thrusts, and he came deep inside of you, painting your walls with his thick creamy white cum. You were a babbling mess; from crying and drooling, you were covered head to toe in some fluid. 

A satisfied smirk rested on Lucifer's face as he pulled out of your sore cunt. He rubbed your body gently, helping the muscles relax. As you lay there fucked out, Lucifer went to the bathroom and drew a bath. Picking you up, he bathed you two slowly and methodically. Once cleaned up, he took you both back to bed and helped you get comfy. 

You smiled softly; you could get used to this. Sex shouldn’t define a relationship, but damn sex and aftercare, you may already be in love. As your eyes closed, you could feel Lucifer's gentle caress as he kissed your temple and said sweet nothings to you. 

As day broke, you were alone in bed. You were hurt and a little disappointed. However, as you rolled over to look at the time, you saw a cup of water, some migraine medicine, and a sticky note with a sweet message and a phone number. Smiling, you stood and added the number, sending it a quick text. Changing into loungewear, you gathered last night's close, yet all you could find was your dress; your ripped panties were missing. Sighing, you ignored it, thinking maybe he had thrown them away already and headed to start some chores. While working on your house, you heard a frantic knock on your door.

Rushing to open it, afraid there was a severe problem, Lilith stood there red-faced and teary-eyed. Confused, you let her into your house and offered her some coffee. As she sat and drank, she confessed to you something horrible. Her estranged husband had been having an affair with a younger woman. Lilith only found out because when he came home late last night and took off his clothes, he forgot to take her underwear out of his pocket. 

Your eyes widened as she pulled out Candy Apple Red panties that were ripped down the seam…… Well, you guessed there were always two sides to a story.

[sxcretricciardo]

the wedding of the grid

The air crackled with anticipation, not unlike the electric buzz before a Grand Prix. But instead of the roar of engines, laughter and excited chatter filled the pit lane, transformed into a petal-strewn aisle. Banners in team colors, checkered flags, and podiums adorned the venue, a vibrant testament to the couple's shared passion: Formula 1.

You and Daniel have been together for five years when Daniel popped the question after he won the championship last year. You were beside him, proudly cheering him from the second place of the podium. It was such a good year for the two of you in Formula 1.

And now, here you are, after arriving in a vintage F1 car, with your "pit crew" of bridesmaids, clad in sleek jumpsuits, escorted you down the aisle, their smiles reflecting the joy you all are sharing.

Daniel stand at the end of the aisle, looking absolutely amazing in his suit, with the biggest smile on his face. From here, you can see a tear falling down of his eye.

The ceremony, officiated by a friend of Daniel's with a mischievous glint in his eye, incorporated racing metaphors. The vows are exchanged under a custom-designed arch shaped like a starting grid, and instead of the traditional "I do," you both declared your commitment with a resounding "Lights out, and love away!" and a passionate kiss. Every guest clapped with excitement.

The venue is just beautiful. With just all glass walls, the Australian view took your breath away. Everything is just perfect and you couldn't imagine a better way to get married to the love of your life.

The guests sit in their designated tables, which are named after the Formula 1 teams. Close to the dance floor, is yours and Daniel's race cars, that your teams happily let you borrow for this special day.

Speaking of teams, every driver was here to celebrate your wedding. They couldn't be more happy to share this special day with you and Daniel.

You make a toast when the sun is setting and then have a marvelous dinner. From your table, you can see that everyone is having a good time and chatting among themselves. You look over at Daniel, who also looks at you and winks. From the corner of your eye, you see the photographer capturing the moment.

After the dinner, you and Daniel open the dance floor. First, you start slow dancing, making everyone think that it would be just a tradicional bride and groom loving dance. But then, the music dies down and suddenly a mix of dance songs plays and you and Danny show the choreography that you both have been practicing for a month now to the guests. You can hear everyone cheer and clapping. When the dance comes to an end, you and Danny are breathless, but have the biggest smile on your faces as the crowd cheers.

When it's time to cut the cake, you both walk to end of the room, with the guests following you. You both handle the knife with care, cut the first slice of cake and put it in a plate. You grab a little piece of the cake and feed Danny, who makes a delighted face.

"This is so good." He says. After that, he grabs a little bit of cream with his finger and rubs it in his nose, mentioning for you to lick it out. You laugh and then eventually lick his nose, as the guests laugh.

The night passes by smoothly. Everyone is dancing, drinking and having a great time, which fills your heart with such joy.

You step outside for a moment, wanting to catch some air after you've been dancing non stop with Fernando and Lando. While you enjoy the view, you can hear footsteps behind and then Danny stands beside you.

"Enjoying the view, love?" He asks. "I needed some air, Fernando and Lando thought they could out dance me and I had to prove them wrong." You say, laughing.

"They should've known better." Danny says, laughing and then grabbing my hand, interlacing his fingers with yours.

"I can't believe you're my wife, Y/N. I've been dreaming of this day since the day I first laid eyes on you." He says.

You feel yourself blushing. Even after all these years, Danny is still making butterflies in you stomach.

"I love, Danny. I couldn't imagine sharing this day with anyone else." You say, looking deeply into his eyes.

He kisses you passionately, when suddenly a voice interrupts you.

"Are you guys coming or what? You'll have plenty of time to be alone in the honeymoon!" Lando says.

You and Danny laugh, making your way inside.

You dance the night away, wanting for this night to never end.

[thescarletnargacuga]

SPOOKY SHOWTIME!

Pomni gets possessed on an adventure, and Caine tries his hardest to get rid of the game mechanic as fast as he can, but has some... Difficulties.

A/N: This kind of turned into a rewrite for episode 3

POSSESSION

A SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: hurt/comfort

~~~

The darkened depths beneath the Mildenhall Manor held the Hall for eh Damned. In a reckless attempt to escape, Pomni tried rushing through, only to become possessed by the crowding souls. Pomni growled as her body twisted and bent uncannily towards Kinger. Her eyes burned bright with the spirits of the damned infesting her body. Cackling, she crept away. "Freedom!" The choed cries for the exit piloted Pomni's body towards the stairs on the far end of the Hall.

"Pomni!" Kinger launched one of his hands down the Hall and grabbed one of Pomni's arms. He dragged her back to the entrance so fast they collided. Kinger was thrown back, but he got up quickly, shotgun at the ready. "Hey! You get out of her, you damned evil souls!" He flipped the gun around and struck her with the butt of it.

Pomni convulsed, writhing in chaotic spiritual agony. She cackled with each ineffective hit. She grabbed the gun before it hit again and she sat up. "How's your wife, Kinger?"

Kinger froze. The cinder eyes of the possessed jester branded themselves in his mind. He couldn't move. His mind raced with thoughts of Queenie, memories he had long thought faded. His hands shook, barely holding onto the shotgun anymore.

Pomni yanked the gun away, tossing it to some unknown corner of the room. "Goodbye, broken one." The souls cackled and crawled back down the Hall to the stairs. Pomni's body jerked and twitched under the terrible influence.

Kinger sat there staring into nothing as Pomni slowly made her get away. "Queenie...I'm sorry..." He knew the memories wouldn't stay. They never do. Tears in his eyes, Kinger stood and marched down the Hall towards Pomni. All the souls were in her, so he was in no danger of becoming possessed himself. With a firm grip, he grabbed Pomni by the arm and escorted her to the stairs.

"Release us!" The souls in Pomni hissed.

"No. If you want out, you're going my way." Kinger said stiffly and pushed through the door at the top. He and Pomni were back in the foyer with the others.

"Oh, Pomni, Kinger! Are you guys- AH! What happened to Pomni!? Ragatha recoiled from the snarling jester stuck in Kinger's death grip.

"We hit a snag." Kinger started to explain, but the brighter interior of the main floor of the Manor was already affecting his memory. "We-...um...I don't really-"

"WE ARE FREE!! FREE AT LAST!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!" Pomni jerked her arm away from Kinger and stumbled to the floor in front of Ragatha.

A large banner with confetti popped up in front of the large double wooden doors. Caine's voice proudly announced: "Congratulations, my hairy halloweenies! You've completed the hidden route of the adventure by getting the Possessed ending! If this was real, you'd be done for! Hahahaha! Now that you're all together again, simply exit the Manor and you'll return to the Circus!"

Jax chuckled behind the tape keeping him quiet. Of course Pomni of all people would experience the worst ending possible. More trauma for the pile. He watches her body flail around, trying to open the main door.

"What do we do!?" Ragatha asked everyone.

"The adventure's over. Shouldn't this...go away?" Gangle asked, keeping her distance from Pomni's animalistic thrashing.

"I don't know, this has never happened before." Ragatha looked to Kinger, who shrugged, then to Jax, who just rolled his eyes. "Maybe it'll stop when we go back?" She inched closer to the crazed jester. "Heyyyy, Pomni?"

Pomni's head jerked violently to look at Ragatha. No words came this time, only heavy breathing.

"You want to leave right? Well, you can come with us. I think."

"I don't need help from an overbearing people pleaser." Pomni snarled, clawing the door. "Care to share how close you are to the brink? To breaking?? To becoming one of us!?" Pomni lost herself in laughter.

Jax fought his bounds, kicking the edge of the wagon. The loud clang got Ragatha's attention and he nodded to the ropes holding him. She went to untie him right away, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. The second he could move again, Jax was on Pomni.

"NO! UNHAND US!" Pomni fought, but Jax was faster and hogtied her. "You worthless rabbitoid! You don't even belong here! You're-"

Jax slapped a piece of tape over Pomni's mouth. "That's enough out of you." He gave Ragatha a passing glance. "This adventure sucked. Let's get out of here. Kinger can load Regan here into the wagon." He didn't miss the chance to kick Pomni's legs as he stepped past her.

Ragatha held herself, Gangle rearing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just when I thought this adventure was going well." Ragatha sniffed. The evil words from Pomni buzzed in her mind, no matter how hard she tried to banish them.

~

"Welcome back, my meowing milk maids!" Caine leaned casually on his hand over the head of the returning adventurers. Jax and Ragatha stopped, but Gangle and Kinger walked on to their own private corners of the circus.

Jax gave Caine a glaring side eye. "Don't ever call us that again."

Ragatha looked over Pomni with concern. Pomni was still fighting the restraints, her eyes still a fiery glow. "Uh, Caine, we need your help. Pomni got possessed during the adventure, and she isn't normal yet."

"Whatever do you mean? All adventure effects and assets are supposed to end with the portal. Especially after the Gummigoo incident. Stop messing around, Pomni." Caine lowered himself to the side of the wagon. Pomni's neck cracked loudly as she twisted her head backwards to look at him. Caine reeled back at the sight of her. "Gadzooks! The souls are still inside of her!"

"That's what I said..." Ragatha sighed.

Jax crossed his arms, smirking. "So, now what? Is she going to the cellar?"

"JAX!" Ragatha screeched.

"No, no. She's not abstracted. Just bugged." Caine poked Pomni's face with his cane, inspecting her eyes. "Hmm...I think I know what went wrong. Kinger started the process of removing the souls, but didn't finish. Then removed her from hell."

"Wait, what!? HELL??" Ragatha stammered. "How did you know Kinger was with her?"

"All seeing eyes, my dear. All seeing eyes." Caine cracked his knuckles. "Alright, time to exorcise these souls." He snapped. Nothing happened.

Jax and Ragatha looked at each other. Pomni growled behind the tape keeping her quiet. Caine chuckled nervously and snapped again. Then again. "What is happening!?" He angrily yelled, two walls adjacent to them glitched out for half a second. "Okay, okay. We all need to calm down." Caine huffed.

"...No one's freaking out." Jax deadpanned.

"I am, a little bit." Ragatha admitted quietly.

Caine raised his cane. "We finish what Kinger started. That'll do it. I'm sorry, Pomni, but it's for your own good!" He brought his cane down hard across Pomni's face with a loud cartoonish whack. Pomni narrowed her glowing eyes at Caine defiantly. Caine struck her again and again, cartoon slapstick impact sounds changing with each hit. "Get out of her already! Your adventure is over!"

The tape over Pomni's mouth ripped off and a cloud of sparkling souls escaped. Pomni coughed, but wasn't fully released from the souls' influence. "HAHAHAHAHAHA! What's the matter, Caine? Losing control? Realizing you're a failure at the ONE THING you were programmed to do!? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

"ENOUGH!" Caine gripped his cane with both hands and cracked Pomni hard across the face with the golden topper. The remaining souls poured from Pomni and dissipated into the air.

Pomni coughed hard and struggled to catch her breath. Everything hurt. She was still tied up uncomfortably tight. "Ugh..."

"Pomni! Are you alright?" Caine dropped his cane and stayed by her side as her features went back to normal.

Pomni's eyes were panicked squiggles looking around wildly. "No..."

Caine snapped the ropes away to let Pomni slowly right herself from the twisted position she had been stuck in. "Pomni, I'm so sorry. The possession was never supposed to be this long. It- it bugged out."

Pomni pushed Caine away and stumbled out of the wagon. "Get away from me! Every day I spend here is one nightmare after the next! I knew it would end up like this!" She went around a corner and planted herself down on the floor, head hidden behind her knees. "You just want me to suffer..."

That last comment hit Caine hard. Another wall far away glitched out. He glanced at Ragatha and Jax, who awkwardly avoided eye contact and left together. Caine flew over to Pomni and sat on the floor next to her. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Pomni was softly crying while Caine stared at his hands.

"....I don't want you to suffer." Caine finally said, his voice calmer and more serious than she's ever heard. Pomni didn't look up, but he continued. "The opposite, actually. My job, my directive, is to entertain, but players were never meant to be...stuck here. When the exit broke, there was nothing I could do but distract. But distraction doesn't solve problems. Eventually, people got hurt. You may not believe me when I say this, but I am trying. I'm sorry today's adventure went wrong, and I'm sorry the methods to remove the souls were so...violent. Going against my own family friendly rating, huh?"

Pomni sniffed, rubbing her glove against her face. "Caine...what the actual [%$!#] happened here?"

Caine offered her a handkerchief summoned from nowhere. "It's a long story."

"I have nothing but time." Pomni looked at Caine with tired eyes, accepting the handkerchief.

Caine blinked. "You... actually want to know? You're willing to listen? ...to me?"

"Yeah. I want to know, and if what you said is true, then you're as much a victim of this circus as the rest of us."

Caine's eyes glistened with grateful tears. His words came out choked, "I...no one's ever...thank you, Pomni."

"Don't mention it." Pomni leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

"Good idea. I wouldn't want the others to panic."

"What?"

"Don't think about it. Just...listen." Caine mirrors her pose. "...It all started with a tech company by the name of C&A..."

[doingthingsthewriteway]

Moss

request: yes

summary: Daisy Pt. 2. More trials (and a lot of fluff) between doc and daisy

Doc Holliday was a lot of things and stupid was not on that list. Something that often got him in a heap of trouble was his education. Quick witted remarks in a variety of languages would swirl around his brain, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice. He was well versed in novels, theater, nocturnes, and even a dash of politics. His understanding of God and the universe was also impressive. 

So no, he certainly wasn’t stupid. Why then was his Daisy hiding things from him? Did she think his male nature made him inherently oblivious to the state of things? Clearly something was wrong. 

Smoke from a pipe- not a cigar nor cigarette but herbs his Y/N read about to ease his pain thank you very much- billowed around swirling with all of his doubts. Doc puffed away as he thought back on all of the recent nonsense. 

First was subtle. One fine evening, Doc’s family gathered in the Oriental. He felt himself glow with pride as the Earp’s and Y/N surrounded him each night. Sometimes he thought he was delirious with another fever as the sound of laughter and touches of affection enveloped him. 

That evening, however, as he waited patiently for Y/N return to his lap, a frown furrowed his handsome face. She balanced on his thighs, glass in hand. “Darlin’?” He tapped the glass with a hesitant finger. “You switch to gin?” 

Her laugh was enough to erase the frown. “No, huckleberry, I thought we could benefit from some water. I still don’t want you drinking, can’t live without you.”

“Oh hell, honey, you’re stuck with my nonsense for the rest of your life.” Her pretty eyelashes and bustle free legs were enough to make him forget. 

Then, all together, Y/N stopped their evening nightcap. Now, yes he needed to quit his drinking to excess, but a glass of bourbon with his baby every night surely was not a problem. Doc wondered if going to the Oriental every night reminded his bride of his affair, which seemed reasonable. Certainly not willing to be on the receiving end of her wrath anytime soon, he let that go. 

Next was more straight forward. Wyatt had received tickets for boxsets at the Birdcage. Y/N loved Faust so naturally Doc jumped at the chance for a family outing. His darling all but squealed with delight when Doc sauntered into suite, with a dress bag slung over his arm. 

“May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the depths of hell tonight, Mrs. Holliday?” Mustached lips tickled up her arm, over her collarbone, and down to her cleavage. 

“Oh absolutely, Mr. Holliday!” Taking the dress out of the brown wrapping, she gasped. “Oh, John!” It was her turn to sprinkle his gruff face with kisses. 

The maroon silk looked downright sinful on his bride (and she thought the exact same thing about his matching waist coat). The Hollidays were a sight to behold in Tombstone. With her on his arm, Doc felt all the southern gentry he was raised in. Nothing could make him feel unworthy of power or love. 

Settled in the dim theater, Y/N fanned herself, a rush of heat hitting her. A holler from the floor seats broke her trance and drew her eyes of the one she despised most. Johnny Ringo practically howled at her, tongue wagging like a rabid dog. 

“Pay no mind to Mr. Ringo.” A gentle hand grasped her chin and forced her attention back to Doc, where it belong he reasoned. “Only I may purchase your soul.” 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered and hummed in delight. “You already have, Doc.” That settled his swirling doubts. Yes, he liked to think he held her soul inside his own. His soul clutching to hers in order to survive. He owned her, not in an oppressive sense. Not like how his father view his mother, but in the way that she was his and his alone and he could proudly say the same. 

Yet, just shy of intermission his darling uttered a “oh fuck” under her breath. Doc chuckled, eyebrow quirked in amusement. Yet before he could comment on the lewd nature of his otherwise polite wife, she was grasping her skirts and rushing out of the box. 

Before he could even move, Allie Earp ran after his wife. Looking at the remaining Earps- excluding Wyatt who looked all too close to committing something dangerous- Doc glared. “Something I don’t know?” 

“Lady stuff?” Morgan suggested earning a grunt of support from Virgil. 

At intermission, Doc found his wife with Allie. Allie had the audacity to grin at Doc, blue eyes twinkling. “Doctor is in.” She giggled. 

And yes, normally Doc would have ate that up. Reveling in the limelight and delightful female attention. However, normally Doc was the unstable one and not his wife.  Still, he couldn’t help himself from saying a charming, “It seems my favorite patient is ill.” 

“I’m fine, Doc.” Y/N offered a grimace of a smile. Slowly standing, she took the fan from Allie. “Just got too hot all of a sudden.” 

Nodding, if only to avoid adding another public confrontation to the history of their relationship, Doc ordered a tonic water from the bar and escorted his wife back to their seats. Allie just chittering all the way. 

The final straw was down right offensive. Doc enjoyed few things more than waking up in the early hours of the morning when the sun was just beginning to think of rising and loving his wife. She was always so eager from a nights rest that she just folded into him. His lungs weren’t heavy from a full day allowing him to thrust and grunt for a glorious eternity. 

Yet, every morning that past week when he rolled over she was gone. He’d call out her name practically mewling with need only to be met with silence. Ignoring the hurt that struck his heart, he’d go back to bed. 

Finally, this morning was the last straw. He figured he’d stay awake, greet her entering their room. The longer he sat awake, pipe in hand, the wilder this thoughts went. Doc prided himself in a remarkably even temper but fear was ensnaring his rationality. 

A dose of opium sounded wonderful right about now. It would just calm his nerves, make it so he wouldn’t lash out. Last thing he wanted to do to his daisy was be mean. Lord knows he’s hurt her enough. He was sure he had a vial tucked away somewhere. 

By the time she entered their room, Doc was in tears. Red eyes narrowed into a glare at her. She gasped. “Doc, are you alright?” 

A rumbling cough worked its way out his lungs. “Daisy, I am rolling.” He hissed. Standing from his spot by the window, he grabbed his cane for balance. “Awful late night for you though.” 

“Are you high?” 

“I hardly see the need in answering that.” He snipped. “It’s quite obvious we both are up to things we shouldn’t be.” 

“Now, John, listen to me.”

“Is it to get back at me? Do you think my heart doesn’t hurt when you leave me?” 

“John, please just trust me.” her voice wobbled with tears. 

“I know I’ve not been the best husband to you-“

“You’ve been wonderful.” 

“Stop lying.” The opium only made his accent stronger. “Please just be honest with me, my soul can’t bare it any longer.” 

With a sad smile, Y/N crossed the floor to her husband. One hand tenderly held his cheek, wiping away at trailing tears. The other reached for his own, pressing a key into his palm. “Get dressed and follow me.” 

Confused, dazed, spellbound by his bride he dressed quickly. She held her arm out to him knowing his pride would much prefer her to stabilize him than his cane. “I’ve not been truthful and I am so very sorry for that Doc, but I hope you’ll forgive me.” 

They walked the dusty streets of Tombstone together. The early morning air left their lungs clear. Cactus clung to the early morning dew as the couple clung to each other. Near the edge of town, Y/N paused in front of a stately Greek Revival home. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” She asked nuzzling into his neck. 

“Yes, though it is difficult to find anything that compares to you darlin’.” 

With warm cheeks, Y/N giggled. “Try the key Doc.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Doc sputtered pulling away in shock. 

“Try the key.” 

A burst of speed had him rushing to the door. Rocking chairs lined the porch, tucked safely behind columns. The key slide in perfectly. Her name was all he could sigh, tears welling in his eyes again. 

Joining him, she nudged him forward. “I’ll give you the tour.” 

While still barren of furniture, the grand home had billowing curtains with long windows that ached of home. As Y/N rattled on about something to do with paint colors Doc waved a hand of dismissal not really caring how she wanted to paint. 

“How?” He managed to grunt,masking his emotion with a forced cough. 

“I was left an impressive about of money in a will.” A small smile tugged on her lips. “A great aunt everyone else hated. The only stipulation was to use it for my family.” 

A tug on his hand led up him the stately staircase. “I was thinking our bedroom could be here if-“ 

“I can handle them darlin’. Don’t you worry about me.” 

The next door was shut, Y/N’s eyes glittering with mischief. “This is your second surprise.” 

“Oh if this is one of those sinful European things-“Doc paused as the door opened revealing the only painted room in the house. 

gentle moss green walls greeted him. A canopy hung from the ceiling, the netting protecting a crib. “Daisy? Are you in a delicate way?” His green eyes flickered from her face to the perky bodice of her dress  to her tummy. 

A nod of her head confirmed. his heart nearly burst out his chest. A joyful laugh tickled out his throat. He didn’t give a damn what would be said about him now, his wife was carrying his baby. His. 

Nudging her nose against his, she leaned in to capture his lips pulling softly on the plump skin. Words weren’t needed as they removed each layer of clothing from each other. Fingers interlocked as they lay together on the soft mossy green rug below them. 

[vigilante24ish]

The Shadow Queen of Tywin Lannister

Summary:

After the death of his wife, Tywin Lannister knew he would never remarry. However, when the relationships between Targaryens & Lannisters are put into question, marriage seems to be the only choice left. To his surprise, it is himself who will get married to none other than the King’s younger sister.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Pairing: Fem!OC x Tywin Lannister Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Miscarriage

Previous - Chapter 31: Long Live King Robert

Next - Chapter 33: The History of the Westerlands

Chapter 32: The Union of a Lion & a Stag

284AC – King’s Landing, CrownLands – Seat of Power: Robert I Baratheon

After the coronation, Visenya and Tywin had returned to Casterly Rock; both were in a sour mood. However, a change seemed to come with a favourable wind in their direction.

Lyanna Stark was dead, and Robert needed to marry, for the realm would need Heirs to continue after him.

Tywin had wasted no time proposing to his daughter, Cersei, as an eligible bride. After all, she was at the proper age of 8 & 10, still a maiden. She had grown to be a beautiful woman whose beauty could hardly be compared with her golden locks and bright green eyes.

John Arryn, the new Hand of the King, knew that the Lannisters were extremely powerful and rich. Unlike Aerys, Robert listened to the person he saw as a second father and agreed on the proposal, even though his own heart was still beating for Lyanna.

This is how the Lannister family arrived in King’s Landing again, just half a year after the coronation. Tyrion and Trystan had also joined, as did Kevan, while Gerion and Tygett remained back at Casterly Rock. Genna was feeling unwell and had also returned to be looked after by her sons and brothers.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Visenya walked the halls of the Red Keep, no longer feeling as if this was her home. Changes had already occurred, and many grand rooms now bear the Baratheon Sigil and paintings portraying hunting moments.

Once, those halls were part of her home, but not anymore. Now, whenever she thought of home, she thought of the beauty of Casterly Rock, the marble floors, and the smell of the sea as it crashed against the cliff.

She was walking proudly, her red dress matching the shade of the blood she had spilt over the years, and her basic jewellery bearing similar gems. Tywin had chosen well, making sure that she would represent all the strong and beautiful aspects as the Lady of their House, and she did.

Servants stepped out of the way, some being more familiar to her in faces, and some were rather new.

The sound of a woman shouting made her come to a halt in front of Cersei’s chambers, hearing her voice as she screamed and cursed at someone. She motioned for her escorting guard to wait outside as she opened the door and entered.

A brush was thrown her way but she moved her head to the side, allowing it to hit the wall at her left instead. The room inside was upside down; clothes and items were thrown to the floor while a maid was slowly cowering away from an enraged Cersei.

The maid looked at Visenya with fear in her eyes, pleading for help, and the Dragoness let out a rather heavy sigh of disappointment.

This family sometimes thought and focused on the young girl. “Go and speak none of this. I will take it from here.”

After what she witnessed, the maid did not dare to disagree and merely slipped through the door like a scared mouse. The door closed behind her, and the two women were left alone in temporary silence.

“Are you done throwing a tantrum?” Visenya asked, arching her white eyebrow.

She understood why Cersei would react that way, having been against the idea of the wedding. Truth to be told, Visenya did not like the idea either. From a political view, it was the perfect opportunity to fully tie their house to the Throne and increase their influence and power.

But from a more personal point of view, she did not wish to see someone that she considered family into the hands of the man she dreamt of killing most of the knights. She still wished revenge upon Robert; she wished disaster and pain; curses, if one would call it.

“The Noble Princess has come to correct me, hasn’t she? Did my father send you? Thinking I would be more willing to listen to my good mother?” she asked, venom and hatred evident in her voice, but at that moment, it was not clear to whom it was directed.

“I have come on my own, but if you wish to remain alone, I will respect your wishes,” she said, turning her back on Cersei before marching towards the door.

“Wait!” Cersei pleaded, causing her fingers to stop inches away from the door handle. “Don’t go,” she continued her voice much lower tone to hide her embarrassment.

A ghost smirk played on Visenya’s lips, having manipulated the young woman with relative ease. Cersei might not like or trust her, but right now, she is a little girl about to marry.

She was a young, motherless girl soon to give her maidenhood to a man she had never met and did not love. At that moment, she did not wish to be alone, and there was truly no other woman to stay with her.

Slowly, the Dragoness turned and marched her way. She walked with elegance, the air of royalty always around her, even when she no longer bore any titles. Cersei admired but also hated that about her, feeling jealous of how easy Visenya made it look.

Just like her father, she commanded rooms without barely talking. She remained beautiful and powerful, and no matter the circumstances, she did not show any fear or shame. Even when she walked to bend her knee, Cersei heard that not once did the talk of the crowd affect the Targaryen woman.

Visenya stopped in front of Cersei. The two women were of similar height, with the primer just a tad taller than her stepdaughter.

“I don’t want to get married to him”, Cersei finally confessed, her anger slowly subsiding as her emotions got the best of her.

She refused to shed tears or look weak, but the faint cracking in her voice made it clear how she felt. For years, Cersei grew up without a mother figure.

She grew up with fake promises that she would be married to a powerful Lord or that she would find a way to be with Jaime instead.

Now, she was sold like a broodmare to the man with the most power in the room. She was not ready for it; she did not want to do it, but her father barely glanced at her or thought of what she truly wanted.

“I know, and I do not wish you to marry him either”, Visenya confessed, earning a surprised look from her. “However, we do not have the power we wish we did. Instead of hating the choice, you better sit down and see the best that comes from it."

Cersei scoffed. “What good does it come from this marriage? Other than the price of my freedom?”

“Power,” she reminded him, earning her full attention. “You will be Queen, Cersei and there will be no more powerful woman than you in the 7 Kingdoms. You will have the power, you will command, you will order, and you will have the freedom to do things most women dream of doing.”

The young Lioness listened carefully as her good mother explained the cons of marrying Robert. She had considered them, but there was something about the way she brought them up that made them sound far more important than they did in her mind.

The idea quickly planted itself inside her head, and she imagined how, for once, she would have the power. She would not be commanded by anyone, let alone her father.

She would have the power to make decisions, her soldiers to command, and she...she would be with Jaime again.

He was a King’s Guard and could protect her. They would be together again, and no one would be able to separate them.

“You talk as if the Queen rules, but last time I checked, it's a fat man wearing a golden crown”, she pointed out, her temper now in check.

Visenya smirked and kept her chin up high, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. “The man might be the head of a family, but the woman is the neck. She is the one who, in the end, controls which direction the head will turn,” she said, gently tapping the girl’s neck with one finger to emphasize her point.

Cersei looked at her with her lips parted in surprise, her voice silent, but her green eyes did all the talking. She had never heard of such words, and she had never thought of marriage that way, but now...it all made sense!

In her mind, she replayed how her mother was so certain she would stop Tywin from marrying the twins to the Dornish heirs. She brought up theories she had when she was younger, such as how Visenya had made her way into their family.

She finally understood why she was always so confident in everything, why she had bound herself to Tywin in the first place.

Women alone did not have any power, but they could gain plenty by controlling a powerful husband— and who was more powerful than the King himself?

In the end, the Lioness understood that her good-mother was right. In her own way, she had come and offered her the comfort she needed. She might not give the physical aspect of a mother, but she did know how to use her words to convey the message to the woman’s cunning mind.

For the first time since she first met her, Cersei saw Visenya differently than she was used to. With her emotions still out of control and with the stress of the wedding that would take place the day after, the cold-hearted Lioness did something she hadn’t done in years.

She embraced her good mother in a tight embrace, a silent way to thank her for her words and to get some sort of comfort from another woman—from a mother.

The Dragoness returned the action, bringing her arms tightly around the teenager’s body and holding her close. One hand went to her golden locks, gently massaging her head as her chin rested on top of the head.

“It's alright,” she said in a low tone, like a mother comforting a scared child. “You will be alright, and you will make us all proud,” she continued, her words passing through all of Cersei’s lifted spiked walls and reaching straight to her.

Jaime was the only other person who had ever hugged her like that, but he was more of a brother and lover. On the other hand, Hers was that of a mother, and Cersei found herself truly missing such moments.

Visenya remained quiet, memorizing every detail of that moment. She had always been the one to comfort others, mostly her sister. The news of her death had taken a toll on her sleep and her mood, although a part of her expected it.

Her dreams had warned her, and her sweet sister perished on the birthing bed, just like it had been foretold. It did not make the pain easier, especially when Visenya would look herself in the mirror and realize she was the last dragon left.

Thanks to Ser Willem, her nephew Viserys and his newborn sister Daenerys had escaped. They were the only thing keeping the tiniest amount of hope in her cracked heart, a faint light into the darkness as a reminder that not all of her family was gone.

However, that family was far away from them, safe in exile. She could not approach them or find them, but she could focus on the family in front of her.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

On the day of the Wedding, as Cersei stood next to Robert and heard the Sept, she felt cold sweat down her spine. She was not ready to bind her life to a man she did not know, to bear his children and be away from home.

She looked around, and her eyes fell on Visenya, who stood with Tywin and the rest of the Lannisters to the side. She had her head high, but there was pride and power in her amber orbs.

She had her head high, but there was pride and power in her amber orbs.

You can do this, they told her.

She glanced at her father, seeing true pride in his eyes after all those years of being ignored. Warmth filled her chest upon seeing two parents, proud of her for the woman she was about to become.

She focused back at the Sept and spoke her words with new confidence, her conversation with Visenya fresh in her mind. She would be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and have the power no one else could have.

She was going to make it worth her while and take back what had been taken from her all those years because she was born a woman.

Unbeknownst to Visenya, her conversation with Cersei might have shrunk the gap between them but had also planted darker ideas into the head of the Lioness, ideas that would eventually shape her character for the worse to come.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Casterly Rock, WesternLands

The marriage had been a huge event, the crowd cheering for the new King and Queen. The Lannisters had returned back to Casterly Rock, where they continued with what they had to do.

Now, there were only two children present: Trystan, who was 4, and Tyrion, who was 12. The dwarf had become rather close to his younger brother, often reading him books and having him follow him around the Castle.

If that were not the case, both boys would be in the presence of their mother, who was always happy to have them around.

After her return from the Trident, Tyrion noticed that she did not smile that often and that her eyes were cold, sometimes looking more like her husband than her previous self.

She was still looking after them, tutoring them, and letting them be around, but the motherly warmth she once had was partially gone. Often, she would let them in the room with a book, mostly focused on handling the affairs of her House.

She spread her network of spies and allies, finding many more than were loyal to the Dragon even if she was under the banner of the Lion. She arranged deals, trade, and new soldiers for the Lannister army so efficiently that it was as if she had been born knowing how to do it.

The mines kept producing gold and silver, the coffers were, as usual, overflowing, and Lannisport was one of the biggest ports in Westeros, hardly falling behind King’s Landing.

She did her job well as Lady of Casterly Rock and Lady Lannister, acting increasingly like a lion in the eyes of many.

Eventually, she even became pregnant again before the year could end.

That seemed to bring back the spark of life she had let diminish from her nephew's death,, and even Tywin seemed to be in a better mood, even when he was around Tyrion.

Trystan was excited to have another sibling to play with, and even the dwarf seemed to be looking forward to the event.

However, none would get their wishes.

Visenya was in her eighth month and about to enter her last one, and once again, her belly had blown. However, unlike her first pregnancy, there were complications from the beginning.

An acute pain came and went far too often, unusual shortness of breath and even trouble eating full meals.

Maser Val, who had come with Visenya to Casterly Rock after her marriage, truly had no explanation for what was happening.

He gave her milk of poppy and kept a close eye on her, suspecting that perhaps it was just a tough pregnancy or she carried twins, and her body was trying to accommodate them both.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

The answer came one day when Visenya felt a pain she had never felt before. She had bent forward, her vision blurring, and she would have fallen forward if Kevan had not been by her side and held her.

She could barely breathe from the pain; she could not focus, but she could feel that something was wrong. Blood started to drop down her legs, and it was not just a small amount; it was a lot...

If her first pregnancy had made her scream, this one made her shout loud enough to be heard even outside the Castle Walls.

The pain she was in was harming her from the inside, and she fought with the Maester, demanding to remove the child from within her because she could not take it any longer.

In the end, the baby was pushed out by her own body, but it was not alive or even fully formed. What Maester Val held in his hands was a baby too small for the month his mother was in.

It had grown skinny and compressed, its legs and hands glued to its side, and its head was small.

Something had gone wrong while it was growing in her belly, and after giving Visenya the poppy's milk, he did his inspection.

The Dragoness had lost a lot of blood; it was a miracle she was alive. She was out of Danger by the time Maester Val stitched her, but he had finally understood what had gone wrong all along.

While Visenya was pale and sleeping on the bed, Tyrion and Trystan were holding her hands and watching her with silent fear and worry at her weakened form.

At the same time, Tywin had met with the Maester in his office and listened to the results of his examination.

“This sounds ridiculous,” he commented, his mood sour after almost losing another wife to labour. “How certain are you of this?” he asked next, standing behind his desk with his hands behind his back.

“Very, my lord,” the Maester said. “If what Lady Visenya had told me about her injuries is true, then it makes sense. Her uterus has been altered by the blow. She can still bear children, but the risks of both of them dying are only going to increase. Even if a child is fully formed and somehow survives, she certainly will not.”

There was silence between them once again as Tywin clenched and then unclenched his jaw. “You speak none of this to anyone, is that understood?” he asked, and the man gave at least half a dozen quick head nods.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

After almost a week, Visenya had recovered enough strength to move, although Val had advised her to take it as easy as possible for at least the first month.

Tywin was the first to see her once she was more aware and stronger, but the news he bore was far from pleasant.

He informed her of what Maester Val had uncovered, what that would mean, and what had caused it. Once he was done, Visenya sat at the edge of the bed and stared at the wall.

She did not know how to process it all, with what to start and what emotion to let out first. Should it be anger against Robert for ruining her? For taking away her chance to offer a sibling to her son?

Should it be a shame, for she was a broken woman? She could no longer bear heirs; she could not expand her family even if she wanted it.

Should it be disappointment in herself for getting injured in the first place? Or perhaps acceptance, for she was cursed like the rest of her family for the sins of her ancestors?

“Whatever you are thinking about it, quit it,” Tywin said as he stood a few feet away and studied her.

He knew her well enough by now to know what she was thinking and feeling when she pulled certain faces. In the outside world, she had the perfect mask, but she could not keep it around someone as sharp as him.

“Quit what, exactly?” she asked with mild annoyance, feeling he should not comment, for he was not in her place. “The realization that I will bear no more heirs? The fact that there will be no more legacy?”

Her words ticked him the wrong way as he fully turned to face her. “There are heirs, four of them, even if one of them is half as competent as the others. There is legacy; Trystan is our legacy,” he marched her way, stopping before her. She was forced to crane her head up to look at him. “I did not accept tutoring you in that Library because I had heirs in my mind. I did not take you as my partner in handling the realm's affairs because I wanted you to bear my heirs. I did not accept your idea for a cover marriage to secure my position as a hand because I wished you to bear my children,” he started, his tone sounding more like a scolding than anything else. “We started this when I already had 2 children, and now they are 4, whether I like it or not. There is enough legacy to continue,e and it doesn’t have to come from you.”

The silence between them as his words dug deep through the thick skull of his wife and snapped her from whatever self-pity and self-loathing she had started to throw herself into.

She did not say anything for a moment, just stared forward at the wall behind him, her hands tightly holding her knees in a secure grip.

“You are a Lion, Visenya, and Lions do not let their emotions control them,” he finally added, his tone slightly softer, but there was this authority and strictness behind it.

Tywin was never one to offer words of comfort, never one to be a devoting father or a man, who showed anything of the likes of sympathy or even empathy. Those words did not exist within him, and there was only one way he would ever show them, a much colder but far more fitting way.

To others, it would be cruel, but Visenya had learned to accept it, embrace whatever she would get and never complain.

It was not that different from how she had been raised by her father and brother, who ignored her existence most of the time.

Yet, his words sounded more like a scolding, which is why they were so effective. She did not need sympathy or pity; she needed someone to slap her on the cheek a few times and snap her out of this ridiculous feeling.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself to stand despite the weakness she felt on her knees. She kept her balance in the end and looked Tywin in the eyes, who had not made a single move to even help her because he knew she did not want it.

“I am, and I am in control of myself,” she finally said, lifting her chin up while never breaking eye contact with him.

Tywin smirked, placing his fingers beneath her chin to keep her head high. “Good,” he praised, pridefully looking down at the woman he had chosen as his wife.

Seeing her standing there after listening to the news, after almost dying, he knew he had made a good choice. She might not bear him any more heirs, but she had already given him one, an intelligent boy that he could properly shape to be his true legacy.

She would not be a mother to any more children, but she had been a mother to his children all this time. She would remain standing, her eyes glowing with determination to continue what they started and let nothing stand in their way.

She was his prideful Dragoness, whom he had cloaked in the colours of his house. She was his intelligent partner, who would assist him in securing the future of their house.

She was the Lady of Casterly Rock, proudly standing by his side as they took over the world with their plans and schemes.

The two of them did not know that, at the same moment, someone had spied on their conversation.

Tyrion had hidden himself beneath the bed when he heard his father entering, not wishing to be caught since Tywin had made it clear he did not approve of how close the dwarf wished to be with his good mother.

The very same dwarf listened to their conversation, and he would be the third person, other than the two of them, to ever learn the true reasoning behind the marriage of the Dragon and the Lion.