#the king who brought back partying

[agir1ukn0w]

Hello there, did you vote the dick turpin song 😊😊😊😊😊😊

which voting?? (also, if I'm honest, if there was a choice btwn Dick Turpin and Charles II, I probably would have picked 'King of Bling,' but that's just me😋)

[mercless]

🗡 mad cowboy disease....

[yandere-writer-momo]

Part 2 🖤I made the demon king a black man. I don’t see many Yandere POC OCs 🖤

Yandere Head Canons:

Defying Destiny

Yandere Demon King x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero (mentioned)

TW: imprisonment, kidnapping, stalking, uncomfortable themes, sexual themes, Somniaphilia, Dacryphilia, etc.

Part 1

You woke up wrapped in the silk sheets of snow unfamiliar bed. Your eyes wild and your heart raced in your chest like a startled animal. Where were you and where was Reinhardt?! Why were there candles everywhere in this dark bedroom? Was Reinhardt planning to… oh god you were terrified.

You felt a sob rack through you when reality set in. Had Reinhardt stolen you away to live out some sort of sick fantasy instead of going through with his quest to slay the demon king? No… Reinhardt wouldn’t bring you to such a luxurious home. But who on earth brought you here?

“I see you’re awake, my delicate flower.” Your head snapped to the doorway to see the silhouette of a large man. You felt your blood run cold and a shiver run down your spine by his presence. That raspy baritone voice belonged to a stranger.

You flinched when the man suddenly slapped his clawed hands on the end of the king sized bed. Your eyes met gold for the first time and you seeped your heart stopped in your chest from pure terror. There was no mistaking who your captor was… he was the demon king.

“What’s the matter, saintess?” He chuckled as he reached a taloned finger out to hook around a strand of your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”

You felt tears stream down your cheeks when he flashed his long fangs at you. He was bewitchingly beautiful with his burnt umber skin and golden eyes. There was no doubt he was a demon and that fact terrified you. What did he want from you? Was he… was he going to kill you?

The demon king sighed at your shivering form before he moved himself to sit beside you. His hand moved to hold yours. “It’s alright, darling. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You sniffled when he began to wipe away your tears. “W… what?”

“I’d never hurt my saintess.” The demon king gave you a toothy smile. “My beautiful, merciful saintess… my salvation.”

You gasped when he brought your right hand up to his lips to press a tender kiss to the back of it. “It’s so wonderful to finally have you here with me… you’ll be safe here.”

“I’m just a bit confused about all of this…” You felt so small under his intense gaze, like he was about to pounce on you at any second. “Who are you and why have you taken me?”

The demon lord chuckled as he rose up from the bed to stand at his full, intimidating height. His curved black horns nearly added another foot to his height which made he give you a smirk. “Why I am the Demon King but you can call me Amon.”

The demon king- no, Amon, bowed his head to you. “And I took you to save you.”

You were surprised to see a tray of freshly made food in front of you when Amon snapped his fingers. Your stomach growled at the delicious sight, but you were hesitant to accept… Amon quickly caught onto your hesitance and took a bite of the food for you. “Don’t worry, it’s real and completely edible. Only the best for my saintess.”

You shyly took a bite and smiled at the taste. It was lovely…

Amon smiled warmly at you, his golden eyes studied your satisfied smile in pure joy. He was so happy to please you!

Amon ran his talons through his long black hair with a smile. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re safe here.”

As the weeks melted into months, Amon kept his word. None of his demon nor monster henchmen were mean towards you, unlike the hero’s party. Sure Amon was never far from you, but his company was much preferred over Reinhardt’s. Amon would bring you meals and made sure you had fresh clothes. He pampered you like a beloved pet.

Though it was never officially stated, you were Amon’s lover. And thus, you treated as such by his subjects. They’d wait for you on hand and foot. You received various expensive clothing and jewelry, they were eager to make you smile. It was such a stark contrast compared to your treatment prior…

You often gazed out your window at the volcanic city below. It was fascinating just how different monsters and demons lived from humans… so why did the humans want to destroy them so much?

You jumped when Amon entered the room to wrap his muscular arms around your waist, his nose pressed onto your shoulder. A few of his box braids tickled your skin. “I missed you so much… I just wish the humans would leave us alone. I grow tired of the hero and his party. They’re so much weaker without your barriers and healing. To think they never treated you well. What a bunch of losers.”

You turned to gaze at Amon in interest. “What is it that they’re after? Why do the humans hate your people so much?”

Amon gave you the softest of smiles, a bit of his fangs peaked out from under his lip. “Our magic stones. Monsters and demons produce enough magic stones to fuel humanity for eons… they’re worth a lot of money to humans.”

Amon pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his gold eyes stared expectantly up at you. “You’re the only human to ever question their greed and motives. You don’t wish to be bound to a destiny thrust upon you by the world.”

Amon bent down on one knee and pressed his lips over your palms and fingers. “Join me. Together we can defy our destiny. You don’t have to be a Saintess forced to marry the hero and I won’t have to be a page in the history books.”

You felt a blush on your cheeks when he tilted his handsome face at you. “Let’s watch the world burn together.”

And now you had a choice to make. To fulfill the destiny predetermined for you or to defy your destiny.

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 01

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 3k Warnings: 18+, smut in later chapters. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Sukuna smokes a cigarette in this chapter. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

The first time you meet Sukuna, you literally run into him.

It's a Thursday morning. You are running down the hallway while rummaging through your bag, searching for the printed copy of the short story that you have to hand in today. The irony isn't lost on you. The story contains a scene quite similar to this. But unfortunately, you aren't a rebel princess running out of a ballroom with her cloak dramatically billowing behind her. You are just a creative writing student in a mismatched pair of sneakers who is late for her class. The second time this week. To a class taught by a professor who sees it as a personal affront if someone shows up late.

You grit your teeth, trying to run even faster, when you finally see the printed copy you were looking for. You cheer inwardly. But your relief is short-lived. Because a second later, you crash into a solid wall.

You screech in shock, the force of the impact making you flat-out keel over without any warning. This will hurt, is the only thought that flashes through your mind. But a millisecond before you hit the hard floor tiles, your fall gets stopped, and you get pulled up again and set back on your feet. Everything happens so fast that you can only blink in confusion.

A pair of well-defined, tattooed arms comes into view. You stare perplexed at them, realizing that they are what stopped your fall. And what you also realize at that moment is that the "solid wall" you slammed into is the tall and muscular owner of those strong arms.

Your face is currently only inches away from his chest. A broad and buff chest in a soft-looking white hoodie with a very familiar crest embroidered on the front. Two crossed hockey sticks and a tiger with glowing red eyes and his mouth opening in a feral-looking growl.

Your head snaps up to look at the face of your savior (and the cause of your fall), and what already began to dawn on you gets confirmed the moment you see the tattoos on his handsome face: You just ran full speed into Itadori Sukuna, the star player of the ice hockey team. The Red Tiger himself, The King of the Ice, and whatever other titles he gets called.

Even though you are hardly a hockey fan, you know Sukuna. Everyone knows him.

Sukuna gets treated like royalty on this campus. He's a living legend. The star player of The Red Tigers, the most successful ice hockey team this college has brought out in over five decades. And Sukuna is the reason for that success.

You gulp hard and take a hurried step back.

Out of anyone you could have crashed into, why did it have to be him? Sukuna is feared on and off the ice. You have never spoken to him personally, only saw him from afar while heading to class or when you were at the same party as him, but his reputation as a bad boy precedes him. And the way he looks with his face tattoos and his strong and tall build only adds to those assumptions. Sukuna is definitely a very intimidating guy.

Your automatic response is to try to make yourself look as harmless and cute as possible, smiling a sheepish, apologetic smile at him.

"I'm so sorry! I was late for class, so I ran, and I didn't see you. Sorry!"

You look up at him with big eyes and a nervous smile, steeling yourself for a scolding.

But Sukuna just eyes you with an amused expression on his tattooed face. His eyes travel lazily over your face and body, making you more nervous with each passing second. You feel your cheeks become hot when Sukuna's gaze finally lands on your mismatched shoes, and the corners of his lips twitch.

You silently curse yourself for snoozing your alarm one too many times and ending up like this in front of the hot boy hockey star of all people!

Sukuna is looking directly into your eyes now, his lips lifted in a lopsided smirk.

"I don't mind getting bodychecked by a pretty girl like you. It would be different if it were an opponent on the ice, but you will get away with it, princess."

You are dumbfounded for a moment, mouth opening and closing several times. Is he mocking you? You eye Sukuna wearily as you mutter,

"Um, well... Thank you for catching me before I landed on the floor."

Sukuna just looks at you a moment longer with that lazy grin, and then he bends down to pick up the bag you dropped. He pushes it into your arms, and you grab it instinctively and hug it tightly to your chest as if it is your lifeline.

"And thank you for the bag."

You add while once again smiling sheepishly at him. Sukuna laughs softly, cocking his head and looking at you with an infuriatingly smug grin,

"Don't thank me so much. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have fallen in the first place."

"Yeah, I guess that's true. But still, thank you."

You cringe at your own words, sure that you sound like a total idiot, but you force yourself to smile broadly at Sukuna and wish him a nice day before you turn around and walk toward the creative writing classroom on rather wobbly legs. At least you don't have to hurry anymore, you think grimly. By now, you are definitely too late.

There's a prickling feeling on your neck as if you are being watched, and you are pretty sure that if you looked over your shoulder, you would see Sukuna still standing there and looking at you with that amused glint in his eyes.

You refuse to give in to the urge to check if you are right and instead keep walking. But your pulse is still racing. From the almost fall or from Sukuna's presence, you aren't sure.

You slip into the classroom, and your professor sends a death glare your way, snapping at you for not taking her course seriously and all thoughts of a certain pink-haired, tattooed hockey player are wiped off your mind as you mutter an apology, and you hurry to the nearest free seat.

You encounter Sukuna again a few days later.

You stand outside the Gojo Hall waiting for your dormmate Nobara when you catch a flash of pastel pink in the corner of your eyes. You lift your head and spot not only one pink head but two. The Itadori twins exit the building side by side, Sukuna, and Yuuji, both wearing their white team hoodies, making you wonder if there is some rule that the players must wear their team apparel 24/7.

You are still contemplating the secret rules of the hockey team when the brothers give each other a high five, and Yuuji leaves with a big smile on his face while Sukuna turns his head, and his gaze instantly lands on you.

Your eyes widen, feeling like the deer in the headlights. You curse yourself inwardly. Why did you let him catch you staring at him?

A smirk appears on Sukuna's tattooed face, and to your horror, he strolls towards you.

You try to act cool, nodding lightly at him, a short greeting in passing. Only to feel your heart jump to your throat when you realize that Sukuna won't just walk by. The resident hockey star stops beside you and casually leans against the brick wall right next to where you stand.

He lets his head fall back and tilts his face to the side, smirking down at you.

"No mismatched shoes today?"

You can't help it, a laugh bubbles out of your chest even as you feel your face get hot. You shake your head,

"Wasn't really my style."

"And here I thought you were some fashion icon or something. Did you make it to class in time after our little accident?"

You scrunch your nose as you remember the angry look and the mean comment your professor sent your way and shake your head,

"No. And now my professor hates me even more."

Sukuna laughs softly. He is so tall that you have to tilt your head back to look at his face. He looks good. Too good. Dangerously so. His pink hair is a pretty contrast to the dark red brick stones behind him. His angular face with the sharp jawline is accentuated attractively by the black lines inked into his skin. A second pair of eyes is tattooed right under his real ones, sitting high on his cheekbones, giving the impression that he is always watching you.

Sukuna is beautiful in a classic way, but at the same time, his tattoos and the way he carries himself make that beauty darker. Beautiful, like a fallen angel, maybe. His looks and his personality give him a dangerous aura. He is undeniably very intimidating. But the way he jokes around with you and looks at you in that playful manner makes you feel surprisingly at ease. Maybe that's why you grin at him and ask,

"What about you? Did your professor get mad, too?"

Sukuna shakes his head.

"Nah. I wasn't on my way to class. I had a team meeting."

You raise a skeptical eyebrow, remembering the empty hallway.

"But I didn't see any of your teammates."

Sukuna's smirk grows bigger, and he raises an eyebrow, too, as if it is a challenge.

"Because I work out all the tactics and do the analytics and shit, so I have to be there before anyone else. Setting up everything, you know?"

You nod slowly, not saying it, but you are surprised and even a bit impressed by his statement. Judging by his looks and reputation, you wouldn't have taken Sukuna for the type of guy who bothers with tactics and stuff. You always assumed he solved everything with pure strength and brutal fouls. Apparently, you were wrong.

Sukuna hums and shoves his large hands casually into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He wears black nail polish, you realize, and somehow that fact is so fascinating that you find yourself unable to look away from his long, tattooed fingers as he gracefully lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag that makes his eyelashes flutter.

Sukuna then holds the still-open cigarette pack out to you, wordlessly offering you one. You decline with a shake of your head and a:

"I didn't know hockey players smoke."

You are met with another of Sukuna's boyish smirks that makes him look way too charming. He cocks his head, eyes sparkling with amusement, low voice dropping to an almost seductive purr,

"And why not?"

You shrug, making an indecisive gesture with your hands,

"Isn't it making you slower or something?"

Sukuna huffs softly, looking smug when he says,

"Well, even if I smoked two packs a day, I would still be the fastest one on the ice, so I guess I will risk it."

You laugh. And as you do it, you realize, to your astonishment, that you feel surprisingly relaxed around the star player and resident bad boy.

You watch him nod towards a group of guys passing by, who congratulate him on the latest win. Followed by two girls who giggle and twirl their hair as they look at him and coo his name as if he is some pop star.

But Sukuna doesn't seem to see anything out of the ordinary. He just lazily blows out his cigarette smoke, not blessing them with more attention than a bored smirk.

Yes, he is a bit of an arrogant asshole and the way people treat him like he is a King or something is super irritating. But you can't deny that Sukuna has a certain charm. Lots of charm! All in all, the resident starboy doesn't seem so bad.

He is looking at you again. A deep gaze that makes your pulse accelerate with how inquiring and intense it is. As if he sees right into your very core.

"Why are you standing in the smoking area when you don't smoke?"

That catches you off guard. You blink and look around, searching for a smoking sign or something similar, but you don't see anything like it.

"Um... I didn't know this was the smoking area. I am just waiting for my dormmate."

After a moment, you add,

"I'm a secondhand smoker, though. Does that qualify, too, or are you gonna make me leave?"

You have no idea why you talk that way. Almost like you are flirting with Sukuna! He grins at you like a devil, attractive and playful and a little bit dangerous as he leans closer to you.

"You don't have to leave, princess. I'll make sure to blow my smoke your way if you are so into passive smoking."

You can hear the amusement in his low voice as he teases you. And he said it again, that name. Princess.

You are pretty sure that Sukuna calls a lot of girls that way, and it's pretty cliché, and coming from any other guy, you would probably find it cringe. But the way Sukuna says it, in his low, velvety voice, while he has that teasing smirk on his handsome face, makes you feel a strange fluttering in your stomach.

But you don't give him the satisfaction of letting him see the effect that stupid word has on you and instead roll your eyes playfully, looking challengingly at him, grinning just like he does,

"Go on then. I don't mind the smoke."

And Sukuna's eyes glint in amusement, never looking away as he leans down to you and takes a deep drag from his cigarette. He pulls it away from his lips and slowly blows the smoke into your face while watching you with half-lidded, cat-like eyes, smirking when he sees that you really don't turn away.

You shake your head and chuckle, feeling like you are sixteen again, and try to infiltrate the cool kids' clique by hanging around near their usual smoking spot. It's a bit stupid, maybe, but also fun.

Sukuna looks pleased, the tip of his tongue gliding over his front teeth as he grins at you.

"Good girl."

You bite your lip, looking up at him with big eyes, finding it hard to breathe suddenly, but not because of the cigarette smoke. You are relieved when Sukuna pulls away and announces,

"Well, it was nice sharing my smoke with you, but I have to go to the gym now. See you around, princess."

He winks at you and flicks the half-smoked cigarette gracefully to the floor, crushing it under the soles of his red and black Nikes.

"Have fun at the gym!"

Your voice sounds too chipper in your sorry attempt to act as if nothing happened, and Sukuna's eyes glitter with that seemingly ever-present teasing expression as he lets them trail over your face once again. He lets out a low chuckle and then jerks his tattooed chin at you in a casual goodbye gesture before he walks away with large, confident steps.

You watch him leave, laughing under your breath.

Sukuna definitely has a strong effect on people. He is confident and sexy, and a bit dangerous. But he also has a boyish charm that makes it easy to talk to him somehow. And it also makes it very hard not to stare after him.

Your gaze is still glued to Sukuna's tall figure and his broad shoulders when Nobara suddenly pops up beside you, making you jump when her elbow connects sharply with your side.

"What is going on between you and our hockey star?"

"What?"

"What were you talking about with Sukuna? And why are you staring after him like that?"

"Nothing. And I am not staring! I just... I ran into him a few days ago when I was late to class. Literally ran into him. That guy is like a wall. I bounced off him and fell. But he caught me. And yeah, that's all."

Nobara is staring at you with comically big eyes and a shocked, open-mouthed expression on her face,

"Why didn't you tell me about that? And now you're chit-chatting with him? Are you friends or what? Or are the two of you fucking?"

"Excuse me? No! Why would you even think that? I just exchanged a little small talk with him, Nobara! That is all!"

She huffs dramatically and pushes her ginger hair behind her ears,

"Good. Because he is an asshole. On the other hand, he is hot, but I think the asshole thing outweighs the sexiness. Maybe you could fuck him once just to get a taste. I mean, he is probably good in bed. And then you can avoid him and..."

"Hello? I don't plan on fucking Sukuna!"

You roll your eyes exasperatedly and push yourself off the wall you were leaning against, quickly walking away so Nobara won't see how flustered her words make you.

It's stupid, though! You really don't plan on getting involved with Sukuna! You barely know him, and just because he has a pretty face, a good body, and a bunch of sexy tattoos doesn't mean you want him!

Oh, are you sure about that, my dear Reader? Because I personally already want him ;)

Thank you so much for reading the first chapter!! I am so excited to finally share this story with you! I wrote some HockeyPlayer!Sukuna headcanons last year, and I couldn't get that version of him out of my mind again, so I knew I HAD to give him a new multi-chapter story. I am already deeply in love with this man, and I am so happy that I can indulge in him for several chapters now ;)

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet ❤️❤️

In Chapter 2, Reader will see our sexy hockey star actually play.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Unconsummated -Aemond T.

Aemond finds himself quickly falling in love during the week long celebration of Aegon and Helaena’s wedding. Sadly his perfect lady is already married to a Baratheon. Happily, the idiot has yet to consummate their marriage as he never wanted to marry Y/n Arryn in the first place.

Aemond sets out to take the sweet girl for himself and he will not take ‘No’ for an answer…

It was much too loud for her tastes.

Y/n’s husband lived for parties like this, being honored that he was invited to the wedding of Aegon and Helaena and enjoying himself in every way he could. He was drunk 10 minutes after the ceremony and would be for the entirety of the next 6 days that the week long party went on for.

Y/n left the room as soon as it was acceptable for her to do so, her husband being locked on another noble woman, one who would happily spread her legs for him in a dark hallway later that night and she could do without the embarrassment of that. She ended up locating the library on her walk through the castle and she couldn’t help but stop. The room was huge, 10x the size of her husbands library as his father, his fathers father and on and on before had never been able to read (and neither could her husband).

He forced her to read all of his ravens to him in private as if he believed that no one was aware that he couldn’t read them himself. Y/n ended up knowing quite a lot about the houses and their leaders, her husband threatening to kill her if she ever breathed a private word of it. She was privy to quite a bit of sensitive information because of his illiteracy, knowing that many houses had secretly sworn to follow Aegon as the true born King or people like her husband who were sworn to Rhaenyra as the King commanded. She honestly didn’t care who ran the realm, all Y/n cared about was her small life, her duties, and her children (of which her husband didn’t seem to care to give her). He was too busy with his whores to give her a child.

She found herself a book that interested her, it was a book on High Valyrian which she had always wanted to learn. She had been teaching herself for only about 20 minutes before she heard a throat clear and she jumped up in fear, the book landing on the floor as her eyes met with one purple one staring back at her.

‘My Prince! I am so sorry! I did not know anyone would be here while the celebration went on…’

He stared at her for a moment before responding. ‘No reason to apologize, I understand more than anyone not wanting to celebrate with drunken strangers.’

‘Thank you for your hospitality…I will leave you be then-‘

‘No!’ He insisted, startling her a bit. ‘I’m sorry, I mean no, you don’t need to leave. Please, sit.’ He moved to take the seat beside her, picking up her book and looking at it before smiling. ‘Teaching yourself High Valyrian? Impressive…I am Aemond by the way, might I know my beautiful company’s name?’

‘Y/n Baratheon, my Prince. It is an honor.’

The two of them spent the next 3 hours by the fire in the Library just talking. They got to know each other very well and Aemond even gave her her first lesson in High Valyrian which he admitted she was a quick study at. It wasn’t until Aemond asked about her family that any of their conversation became uncomfortable.

‘You’re married to the eldest Baratheon son, are you not? I knew he had a wife but I did not know he had brought her with him while he-’ Aemond stopped himself as if he was unsure if she knew what her husband was up to.

‘I am aware of his indiscretions. It is how he has always been, nothing to concern yourself with my Prince.’ Aemond’s face was stoic as always but she sensed sympathy like she got from most other people. ‘He never wanted to marry me, his father wanted my name and the alliance of certain supporters. He had hoped marrying me to his son would stop his…activities and make him happy to have a family…he has no interest in such things however and I am left 6 months after our marriage unloved and childless…I’m sorry…you don’t care about that.’ She laughed though Aemond could tell it was hollow.

‘Your husband is an idiot if he does not want you my lady. I have known you for mere hours and I know that you are a smart, kind hearted girl without a judgmental bone in your body. You would be a good mother, of that I am sure.’ Aemond had no clue where that came from. Seeing this girl all alone and feeling unloved was breaking his heart…what is she doing to him?

‘Thank you my Prince, you are too kind.’

Y/n retired not long after, in bed hours before her husband joined her, collapsing into the bed in his clothes and for once she did not move to take care of him, Y/n left him in his clothes and on his chest in the bed.

Her days went on like that for most of the week. She would have breakfast and enjoy a walk in the gardens before finding her way to the library again and spending the rest of the entire day with Aemond. They both made an appearance at the party every night as was expected before abandoning the noisy, drunken mess and enjoying each others company again.

Aemond continued teaching her Valyrian and they could hold conversations now (albeit simple ones) as she was a fast learner. He also told her all about Vhagar, loving her interest in his dragon where most ladies were terrified.

She had raged when he told her of how he really lost his eye, furious that his nephew would do such a thing, all of them. She also condemned the ladies in the court who had made Aemond feel ugly just because of his injured eye. She swore to the heavens that he was one of if not the most beautiful man she had ever seen and she would not take his negative words into account.

Aemond had quickly come to love Y/n and she loved him as well, they both knew but neither of them crossed the line to say it. Though as her husband had never consummated their marriage Aemond had decided that he was going to ask his father to annul the marriage so that he could marry her instead. It would be a good match for his family, Y/n originally being an Arryn, and he knew that her father would take insult from the Baratheons for not taking care of his daughter or making their marriage legal. He was determined to convince her that night, the second to last day of the celebration, however his soon to be Princess never arrived.

Aemond waited for over an hour before searching the party. He found her husband, nearly as drunk as Aegon and with his tongue down a ladies throat but Y/n was not there.

He then left the castle and walked the gardens in search of her as he knew she enjoyed the Red Keeps gardens. After about 5 minutes he found her sitting on a wall overlooking the beach.

‘You are difficult to find, my dear.’ She jumped, turning slightly but not looking at him, turning back to the view.

‘I am sorry my Prince. I have enjoyed our time together but it must come to an end, please forgive me but I wish to be left alone now.’ He was stunned, unsure of how to respond but knowing that he wasn’t about to leave her like this.

‘Whatever I have done, please forgive me Byka Zokla? I do not-‘ (Little Wolf)

‘You have done nothing my Prince! It is I who is in the wrong. I have led you to believe that we could be friends and that was wrong of me. My job is to be there for my husband and I have not been doing my duty-‘

‘Your duty? What about him? He has not taken care of you as is his job as your husband and protector! You’re not waiting on him hand and foot anymore so he is upset, yes? Please? Do not push me away Y/n, I can help you to-‘ he cut himself off as he turned her head to make her look at him and he finally saw what she was hiding from him. Her right eye was black and blue, her bottom lip was split in 2 places and her throat was bruised, clearly in the shape of hands. ‘Oh my Love! No! This will not stand! Come with me.’ He insisted, holding out his hand. She hesitated but he looked down at her softly, giving her time to decide. ‘Trust me?’ After another few seconds Y/n took his hand and allowed him to whisk her off and they arrived in the Small Councils meeting room where the Queen walked in not a moment later having been fetched by a guard for her son.

‘Aemond…what is the meaning of this?!’ Alicent snapped, storming over to the girl and seemingly thinking that her son had done it but she changed her tune when the girl flinched away and hid behind him instead.

‘Mother. This is the girl I spoke to you about, her husband has proved…ungallant. I wish to take her as my bride.’ Alicent was looking over his ladies face when she fully understood what he had said and jerked her head up.

‘My son, she is married already. You cannot just take another man’s wife, even as a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. You-‘

‘Their marriage has not been consummated.’ She stopped speaking and looked between them in shock.

‘Well…that changes things…she will need to testify it to the King and he will need to annul the marriage before anything else can happen. It will take time. I will speak to the Hand and start the process for it, we will find a room for her here to keep her safe from now on.’ Alicent turned to Y/n and held out her hand. ‘Come, let’s get you out of those dirty, bloody clothes and put you to bed.’

‘I will come and say “Goodnight” in a bit. You have a bath and relax…I will take care of you, I promise.’ Aemond swore, kissing her hand and watching her blush before she walked off with his mother.

Aemond straightened himself as she left the room and turned to head back to the party where he almost immediately found the man he was looking for.

Y/n’s husband was holding a full goblet of wine with his arm around a ladies waist looking quite content. Aemond moved beside him to grab himself a cup of wine, purposefully causing the idiot to bump into him.

‘Fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.’ He laughed obnoxiously and Aemond found himself wondering how Y/n ever stood being around him at all.

‘Evidently.’ He rolled his eyes and could instantly see that this man didn’t appreciate the action.

‘You may be a Prince but you’re still only a second son, and no where close to Daddies favorite. Watch yourself. I am the head of Storm’s End and soon enough the Vale, you are nothing and even less than that without your Dragon behind you.’ The man was clearly drunk as fuck but Aemond was happy with that. It would make this easier…

Aemond smirked as he leaned in close, the young Tully girl that he had had on his arm long gone, not willing to upset a Prince, let alone the one eyed prince himself. ‘I fucked your wife.’ He mumbled, close enough that only he could hear and he absolutely did.

‘What the fuck did you say?’ He snarled, eyes nearly catching fire in his instant rage but Aemond stayed calm. He needed to control himself for this to work.

‘I fucked…your wife…Gods knows you weren’t doing it. Such a lonely girl, desperate for a man’s affection and all she was given was an insolent child. It’s pathetic. Don’t worry though, soon enough she will be raising my son and she won’t be worried about you anymore.’ The boy was practically shaking in his rage, fists clenched and men were beginning to take notice, several of the women moving to alert the guards so Aemond would need to do this quickly. ‘Give it 9 months and everyone will know exactly who your wife strayed from you with, the silver haired boy suckling on her tits will be evidence enough. I’m sure with enough words to the King I can ensure my son will inherit all of your lands when you die. Too bad you weren’t man enough to impregnate her yourself or y-‘ He was finally cut off by a truly pathetic punch to his face but he played into it, falling dramatically to the ground and biting his tongue, spitting blood out to make it seem worse than it had been.

He was grabbed instantly and held back from coming at Aemond again who smirked up at him, the boy only seeming to now realize what had happened. ‘Chain this drunken fool and take him to the Black Cells for-‘

‘No!’ Aemond snapped, cutting off his Grandsire. ‘It was me that he assaulted and as a Prince of the realm it is my decision what happens to him.’ He declared and though Otto looked at him strangely he nodded nonetheless. He reached out, grabbing the collar of the drunk and yanked him forward, dragging him from the party and outside through the front gate.

‘Aemond-‘

‘He dies tonight, would you like to argue?’ The one eyed Prince hissed at his Grandsire who knew not to argue with him in this state.

Vhagar peeked her eyes open at the sound of men approaching her beach, seeing her rider dragging along a man that was trying very hard to get away or hurt him making her bare her teeth and hiss instantly.

‘Dokimarvos Vhagar! Umbās!’ He spoke to her and she sat her head up and waited for her rider to speak. *Pay Attention Vhagar! Wait!*

‘This is a message to anyone that thinks to defy me or Gods forbid, harm the people I care about. I am not merciful, you can find mercy with my family but not here. Anyone who wants to disagree with this will not end up in the Black cells, but with my Dragon as their punishment!’ Aemond ignored Otto who was trying to stop his rushed decision. ‘Dohaerās Vhagar! Kisās!’ *Obey Vhagar! Eat!*

Everyone watched on as the giant she-dragon lifted her head over the abusive asshole and opened her mouth wide before chomping down on the man and seeming to swallow him whole which had several people screaming and one man actually fainting.

Aemond was proud of himself, he had saved his girl and it barely took an hour.

He quickly made his way back into the Red Keep and up to the room that he knew his mother had put his soon-to-be wife in. As he entered, knocking softly as to not frighten her, he saw her in a sleep shift and he couldn’t help but stare. His girl was beautiful and she was going to be all his now.

‘Did you have a nice bath?’ He asked, moving to pull the blankets back for her and enjoying her soft blush as she crawled into the bed.

‘It was very relaxing. I’ve never had servants to wash me like that before.’ She teased, though Aemond was surprised by that.

‘You are a lady, are you not? How-‘

‘My mother took care of us as children and when we grew she insisted that we were able to bathe ourselves. My husband however, did not want anyone seeing me in a state of undress…it was strange but nice I suppose. A lady could get used to such treatment.’ Her soft laugh was everything Aemond loved as he reached out and cupped the side of her face.

‘You will get used to it. You are to be my wife, and my wife will have the best of everything. I will bathe you myself if it brings you happiness.’ He teased her, kissing the side of her head before standing again. ‘Get some sleep my lady, no one will bother you, you have my word-‘

‘Will you stay?’ She asked and though he was startled he did not let it show, knowing she was still probably feeling afraid after all that had happened, especially now that she’s in a strange place that she’s sure to never leave again. She would need to get used to being his and knowing that she is completely safe here, she would learn to trust what he said when he told her that he would never let anyone harm her again-let alone another husband. Aemond removed his shoes and coat, as well as his weapons before crawling onto the other side and feeling her head rest on his shoulder. He was careful not to touch any of her injuries as he let her drift off to sleep. He knew his mother would be upset at his sleeping here but he didn’t care. Y/n would be his wife by the weeks end and he would give her everything that bitch of a “husband” could not.

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍

SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 basks in the fact that you're ofically his. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 x Reader (gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified) Tw. buying reader, kidnapping, general lack of consent, possessive/obsessive behavior, power imbalance, blackmailing, threatening; A/N: Quick reminder. I do not support this kind of behaviour. This is just a piece of fiction and serves as enetrtaimnet purposes only.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 who had bought you.

Earlier that week, unknowingly to you, he visited a small apartment you and your family were occupying. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was aware where and how you were living but it still mortified him how you – his precious darling – could be living like that. 

“You deserve better…more…” he repeated in his head every time he thought about you. Which was always. So it didn't come as a surprise to anyone he had decided to do something about it sooner than later.

Yes, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 greatly appreciated being so warmly welcomed by (his soon to be in-laws) your family. He even witnessed himself from where you got some of your traits from but business needed to be made.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was straight forward from the start.

The deal was simple: he will pay your family a handsome sum of money monthly and you'll belong to him wholly. They'll completely disappear from your life, becoming nothing but a shadow of your past. In his head he knows you won’t need them anymore.

If not, their financial situation which was already bad will be even worse. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 is a man of power and has a lot of money. Your parents, knowing this, quickly understood that it's either willingly giving you away and getting the money or he will forcefully do so with them landing on a street, probably dead.

From the beginning, they had no choice.

"And here you are, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 whispered lovingly into your ear before gently laying you on the king size bed. You were put in a deep sleep by an alcohol you drank during his luxurious party (he threw to celebrate sealing the deal but shhh...) and strong sleeping pills he had added to one of your drinks. He made a mental note to pay the doctor he got them from an extra since you didn't even twitch the whole way you were carried here.

"I hope the bedroom will be to your liking." Your (captor) future husband carefully took off your shoes and laid them by your new bed. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 wanted you to be as comfortable as one person can be. Then he took the neatly folded blanket made from the highest quality silk and processed to snuggly tuck you in. When he finished, you looked like the bed could swallow you at any given moment.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 couldn’t help himself and brought his hand to your head, caressing it while staring at your face in adoration. "If not I'll change it however you like it."

Secretly, he hoped you'll be sharing a bedroom (especially bed) soon.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sat down by your side, the softest mattress he could find easily dipping under him. He didn’t care that he was wrinkling his expensive party wear consisting of a black tuxedo imported straight from Italy that accentuated his lean body in every positive way. He was looking his absolutely best. For you.

"Oh how I love you, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 purred and his fingers ghosted over your cheek. He leaned down close enough to your face that your soft breaths were fanning him. Some of his slicked back hair fell down tickling your forehead. His mesmerizing eyes were gleaming with the passionate and deep rooted love he had for you. "You belong to me."

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sealed your fate with a peck on your lips.

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Perv! Steve Harrington x Perv! reader, F reader, friends to lovers, scent kink, reader being a bit of a creep but Steve's into it because duh, masturbation (f) sexual acts in public, mentions of and allusions to oral sex (f)

WC: 5K

A/N: I was going to split this into two parts but fuck it. Two for one special. Still feeling rusty when it comes to writing so go easy on me, yeah? Also, this one's kind of gross at times. Just a little bit. Nothing extreme but just letting you know incase you're someone who gets squeamish easily. Enjoy!

The hair? sure. Everyone liked his hair.

People usually fell into two camps when it came to Steve Harrington's signature do; either they envied it or they hoped to be one of the lucky ones who got to run their fingers through it.

You used to daydream about the latter when you only knew him from afar but now that he no longer ran with a particular kind of crowd, now that he's just Steve and no longer the King, you managed to get close enough to find out that he smelled nice too.

Really nice.

So, figuring out that he used women's shampoo shouldn't have been the revelation that it was because it made so much sense, his tresses never scented with a wintry pine or spicy cedarwood like most scent profiles marketed to men.

You had your friends to thank for your stumbling upon that discovery, the group of them arriving at your home to bully you out of your PJ's and into a pair of jeans and shoes, uprooting you from your room on a Saturday afternoon for an outing to the fancy part of the mall.

While they searched for new make-up, you wandered a section of the store by yourself, uncapping the pretty bottles in the hair care aisle whenever the sales assistants' attention wandered elsewhere, squeezing each one carefully to sample the array of scents. You did this idly and with no real plans to purchase anything, just something to pass the time while your friends crowded another display a few aisles away, chattering blissfully and swatching lipsticks.

Picking up a fifth shampoo from the lineup of bottles, you brought the uncapped rim up to your face, lightly skimming your cupids bow with it as you gently inhaled. While fun, you'd spent most of your time at the mall feeling a little bored, a small part of you still desiring to go back home where you could lounge and laze in peace. That was until you began to recognize the scent of the newest shampoo you had clutched in your hand, the familiarity of it triggering a whirlpool of memories.

In seconds, your mind plunged back to the night of Jack Sullivan's graduation party. The first time Steve Harrington had spoken to you – really spoken to you since he’d parted ways with Carol and Tommy, seeming much more approachable than he had in the past.

The two of you had ended up sharing the patio swing outside where the air wasn't as thick with smoke and the smell of spilled booze. Making conversation, he offered you a beer he'd originally intended to give Robin before she'd slipped away into one of the guest bathrooms with your best friend Sally. You both knew why, sharing a look of understanding but never mentioning the obvious out loud out of loyalty to your friends.

Then there was the only day it rained in July, remembering the way your fingers brushed against his as you handed him your umbrella. You'd discovered him taking refuge under the awning of the diner you worked at that morning, face twisted all worrisome as he looked up from his wristwatch to the downpour in front of him, forced into walking to work that day due to his car still being in the shop. The only light that shone that day was the gleaming smile he gave you when he thanked you for your kindness.

And then there was the time when you had your head down while scanning a tape at Family Video, bumping face first into Steve's chest when you rounded the corner, his name tag catching on your bottom lip. It was the tiniest sliver of a cut, barely noticeable or painful but oh, how he fussed over you like you were made of porcelain. He’d gone so far as to sit you down on his chair behind the counter as if you might collapse from blood loss at any moment, whizzing into the break room and back with a fist full of napkins to dab the miniscule wound that had already stopped bleeding.

All of those memories and more linked by one scent. This scent.

With your pupils dilating like a cat prepared to pounce, you flipped the bottle over to read the contents.

White frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, bergamot waters, sea salt breeze and sunkissed musk.

Steve Harrington in a bottle. And the quickest 16 dollars you've ever spent.

And with that purchase came the self-imposed reminder to exercise caution. Upon leaving the mall with your friends, your mood much chipper than when you'd arrived, you made sure to hardly ever use the shampoo when you bathed, afraid that if Steve smelled it on you later, somehow, he'd be able to put the pieces together and know why you'd bought it, even as wildly unlikely as that seemed.

So instead, you huffed the bottle in private on most days, only using it when you knew you'd be spending the day at home. On those eagerly awaited days you luxuriated in the scent as you applied the shampoo in your shower, mind and fingers wandering, working your peaked nipples and your firm clit up to the thought of Steve joining you in your shower and fucking you dumb – tits pressed up against the cold, wet tiles, ass bouncing on his hips as he stretched you open and used you well.

But now that you'd discovered this new kind of hunger you had to make sure to keep it well fed and when the shampoo didn't feel like enough anymore, you set out to purchase his cologne.

The scent was one you had memorized from all of your trips to the video store, hanging around the counter while Steve talked to you about which movie you ought to rent next. You could smell it on his neck whenever he leaned in close on his elbows, face inches away from yours, wishing he'd close the distance and meet your lips with his.

Another trip to the mall had you scouring the men's section like a wolf tracking the scent of injured prey, sampling bottle after bottle of cologne until you found it.

Aromatic sage, dark tonka bean and rich sandalwood. Priced at a cool $39.50 which you gladly forked over because to you, it was all money well spent.

The cologne became part of your nightly routine after that, dabbing drops of the heady scent on your body when you went to bed, the smell making your arousal climb before lulling you to sleep an orgasm later, evoking dreams of Steve throughout the night that made you wake up to your panties all damp and sticking to your core by morning.

You were content that way, the shampoo and the cologne enough to satiate your fixation on the way Steve smelled all while managing to maintain your friendship with him without things becoming weird.

What ended up shattering that peace however was running into him a few weeks later coming out of the Y, just done with a game of basketball as he spotted you passing by and happily waved you down.

He smiled at you just as brightly as he had all those months ago in July, this time dressed in his gym clothes; a pair of green shorts that showed off the thickness of his toned, hairy thighs and a grey t-shirt, the sleeves filled out well by his tanned biceps and its collar darkened by sweat.

Up close, you could smell the exertion on him and that was what became your undoing.

It took every iota of self-control not to rush him to the ground and pin him beneath you, feeling more and more like a caged animal the longer the conversation went on and you were forced to compose yourself.

It was the kind of scent you wanted to sink into, more so than the cologne or the shampoo because this was Steve completely unadulterated – that earthy musk, that rugged, almost spicy all-natural scent that you wouldn't be able to find on any shelf.

Barely managing to hold it together until parting ways with him, you knew you wouldn't be able to rest without it, mind already working to devise a plan.

~

"Risve- what?"

You chuckled as the word died on Steve's tongue, knowing he'd trip up on the pronunciation. Reaching for a pen and a scrap of paper sitting on the counter, you wrote the word down for him. "Risvegli. It's Italian", you explain, handing it to him as you do your best to repress the shiver that runs through you when his slender fingers graze yours, trying hard to quieten your mind after all the ways you’ve imagined those very fingers touching you in your most sensitive places.

"It's kind of an obscure flick but I like that sort of stuff. D'you think you could have a look and see if you've got a copy in the back?", you try not to bat your lashes too much when you ask, not wanting to overplay the sweetness to the point that it comes off as insincere or worse, suspicious.

Steve looks down to study the paper, cheeks dusted a pretty pink, you can’t help but notice. The ends of his hair are still damp from his shower at the Y, just as you expected now that you knew which days he spent there before clocking in for work.

"For you? Definitely", he looked back up and smiled at you in that way that made your heart somersault. "Be right back". He leaves you alone at the counter and you make sure to wait for him to disappear out of sight into the back, stamping down a flash of guilt for having sent him off to search for a movie that didn't exist to buy you time.

You'd planned it all last night, stepping away from the counter before heading towards the employee break room, able to sneak in without fear of running into Robin because you knew she'd be spending the day with Sally on her day off from working at the diner.

Steve’s duffle bag is in plain view as you shut the door to the little room behind you quietly, resting on a chair that'd been pulled out from the table where you imagined he probably shared his lunch breaks with Robin.

Striding up to it, you find the zipper and tentatively, you pull it open to reveal the contents. What you're looking for is balled up at the very top, picking up the sweat damp t-shirt with clammy, trembling fingers. You're really crossing a line this time and you know it, your teeth close to piercing the soft skin of your bottom lip as you bite down on it but you can't deny that there's just something so exhilarating about the whole thing too. The lying, the sneaking around, the risk – it's all a little too much and your mind grows foggy with it, dulling your once sharp intuition and giving way to a moment of weakness that has you abandoning caution now that you're alone.

Waiting to do indulge your urges until you're safe at home feels impossible now that you've got your hands on it, eagerly pressing your nose into the damp t-shirt, eyes nearly rolling back as you filled your lungs with the smell of him. It must have been the pheromones, it had to be, awakening that primal kind of desire in you that had you parting your lips and pressing the tip of your tongue to one of the sweat stains, sucking on the sour, salty musk that had soaked into the cotton.

What you're doing is so dirty, damn near repulsive and knowing that just fuels you even more as you begin to salivate. You're too wrapped up in the earthy scent of him, too lost in the taste to notice when the door handle jiggles behind you, too drunk on the sick thought of what Steve’s used boxers must smell like if you were to pull those out of his duffle next when all of a sudden, it's too late.

The door to the break room swings open and in walks Steve, the world screeching to a sickening standstill when his eyes fall on you.

Your own eyes bulging, you watch in mute horror as he takes in the sight before him, the scrap of paper you'd handed him earlier slipping from between his thumb and forefinger, fluttering to the floor like the wings of a dying butterfly.

It's impossible to know what he's thinking. Is it disgust? if so, he hid it well. Bewilderment? You weren't sure. Ice crackles over your bones as the two of you stare for a few seconds longer, Steve's expression still unreadable.

The whole thing's all the more uncomfortable because of the way he continues to watch you like you’re something to be studied, looking contemplative as you trembled in place, wishing for the ground to break open beneath your feet and swallow you away into a never-ending crevasse.

But as the seconds tick by and the ground stays perfectly intact you're left to seek your own respite.

Despite what feels like the blood retreating from your veins, your body shifts into auto pilot as you wordlessly place the rumpled t-shirt back in Steve's duffel and do the only thing you can do in a fucked up situation like this – walk away. Even as he tries to call after you, you ignore his shouts, continuing on a path towards and out the exit, mortified.

You don't go back to Family Video after that. In fact, you avoid that entire street for a whole week.

The days following being caught out by Steve were some of the worst you've had to endure. Shame made a home in your body, making you ache with a belly full of thorns and your thoughts growing increasingly heavy and abrasive as they flood your throbbing head.

For those seven days you carried around the dread of knowing that Steve had discovered that secret side of you, the feeling worsening at the thought of him telling others what he had seen and rendering you some kind of town pariah – even though a tiny, hopeful whisper inside your raucous head told you that he probably hadn't said anything, at least not yet since Sally hadn't even seemed to have gotten word of the incident from Robin.

But that's all it was. A tiny, fleeting whisper that did nothing to calm you.

At home, you buried yourself in your blankets, letting your anxieties exhaust you to sleep and at work you moved as if you were fighting your way through thick slurry – slow and dragging your body from table to table, unsmiling as you took patrons' meal orders and served them their food.

You continued like that all throughout your shift, waiting for the moment you could peel your polyester uniform off in favour of your own clothes and drive yourself home. With only 30 minutes left before closing, your shoulders which had been pulled tight all day with tension began to sag, a momentary wash of relief coursing through you. That was until you smelled it – smelled him.

Whipping around, your stomach plummets when your eyes fall on Steve walking through the door – and to make things worse, he’s carrying that duffle on his shoulder.

He's yet to have spotted you, taking a seat at one of the empty booths though you notice the way his eyes are scanning the diner, searching.

It's obvious that you’re the one he’s looking for as worry courses down your spine like a lightning strike. Was he going to confront you? right here? in front of all these people? Normally you wouldn’t peg Steve as someone who’d do something so cruel but after what he’d caught you doing, a little public humiliation doesn’t seem all that undeserved, you had to admit.

So, carefully you retreat into the breakroom without drawing his attention, pulling a perplexed Sally along with you once you'd caught hold of her by her elbow.

Once safely inside, you all but blubber in her face, begging her to wait on Steve's table, even promising her all your tips for the next week in exchange.

Seeing the distress contorting your face must have made her feel sorry for you because she pulls you in for a quick, tight hug, running her hand up and down your back in an attempt to calm you. You'd only given her little snippets of what had happened at the video store, making sure to alter a few details for the sake of concealing how far you’d actually gone that day. To her, the gist of it was that you'd embarrassed yourself horribly and that was all she really needed to know, springing into action as the compassionate best friend to the rescue.

"I've got it, okay? just breathe", she'd repeated soothingly into your hair, giving you a quick squeeze and her best reassuring smile before you reluctantly unwind your hands from around her, allowing her to step out of the break room ahead of you.

Outside again, thirty minutes drag on like hours while you purposely stick to the part of the diner that's furthest away from Steve's table. You don't dare look at him but you do sneak a glance when Sally walks by with his order, a single black coffee and nothing else which he sips leisurely while you tremble.

If his plan was to confront you then what the hell was he waiting for? There was nothing stopping him from walking up to you while sweat collects between your shoulder blades as you clear the tables of customers who’ve settled their bill and since left. Nothing to prevent him from stepping up to the counter while you nervously rubbed the surface of it free of crumbs and stains to demand an explanation for your bizarre behavior last week. Nothing to stop him from simply walking up to you at any moment and ask to know what the fuck your deal was.

But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he finishes his coffee and casually waves down Sally for the bill while smiling politely. Somehow that causes you even more unease.

In that moment you lose sight of Steve when you’re called over to serve the only other table of customers left, a family of five keen to fit in one last round of milkshakes before they call an end to their meal.

You see to their order despite your shaking limbs, returning with a tray crowded with the cold, sweet drinks, setting each one down carefully in front of the smiling children and their parents before you head back behind the counter with your tray clutched close to your chest. The whole thing must have taken you ten minutes and when you sneak one more look in Steve’s direction you find his booth empty this time.

Eyes frantically searching the diner, you manage to catch a final glimpse of him walking out the front door, bell chiming above him as he departs, leaving the diner and you with even more questions than you had when he'd first arrived.  

Had Steve changed his mind? Had he just wanted to make you sweat for the hell of it? Taken pleasure in watching you try to keep it together in his presence while you traipsed around the diner all too carefully like a petrified newborn deer?

Why had he shown up at all today if he wasn’t going to...do anything?

You get your answer fifteen minutes later when wearily, you trudge into the staff room at the end of your shift, pulling open your locker and all but fainting at the sight of what’s been placed inside beside your belongings.

Neatly folded inside is Steve's grey t-shirt, the same one you'd tried unsuccessfully to "borrow" last week The scent of him is instantly recognizable as you inhale shakily, fingers reaching out to touch the slightly damp cotton to confirm to yourself that you weren’t in fact hallucinating the whole thing.

When your pulse starts to settle and the static crackling in your ears starts to cease you notice a little scrap of folded paper placed inside too. Picking it up and pulling it open, it's with a deep, dreamy sigh that your chest blooms with sunny warmth as you read the note, a smile gracing your lips for the first time in a week.

Three months later...

The only good thing about working the graveyard shift at the diner was that Steve always insisted on coming in an hour before you clocked out so he could drive you home.

Occupying one of the booths inside the sleepy diner, he'd keep himself busy with his phone while you worked, perking up whenever you came by to freshen up his coffee or sneak him a piece of pie he hadn't ordered with all his favorite fixings.

It was during those moments that he liked to have a little fun with you, quickly surveying the room to make sure no customers or staff were looking over in your direction before he'd slip his fingers under your skirt and pinch your ass. Sometimes you'd see it coming and other times he'd catch you off guard, cruel delight curling his lips into a smirk whenever you had to stifle your surprised squeals.

And that's as far as he usually took, patiently waiting until he could get you in his car for more but today felt different.

With no new customers coming in in the last two hours, Sally had taken to the break room to work in a nap while the kitchen staff had stepped out back to smoke and deal cards to pass the time. That left just you working the front with Steve as the diner's only patron.

Having no one else around meant you could flirt freely with him now, making sure to look over your shoulder every now and then just incase to make sure you didn't get caught.

You spent that time alone together with his boot gently tapping against your shoe under the table, reaching out and fiddling with his fingers because you always liked to be touching him while you happily teased each other as the minutes passed by.

Somewhere in the middle of your playful banter you noticed Steve's cup was now empty, picking yourself up from the booth to bring over more coffee. As you leaned over the edge of the table to pour, you anticipated the glide of his fingers on your thigh, inching up your skirt to situate them between your legs.

"You're going to get me fired one of these days", you chide him, still holding on to the pot of coffee once you'd finished refilling his cup.

"Good – then I can have you all to myself", he teased back, index finger drawing patterns on your inner thigh, just a few inches below the lacy trim of your panties.

"Steve", you attempt to scold but there's barely any heat there for him to take it seriously, fingers daring to trail higher.

Meeting his heavy gaze, you watch him search your eyes for a moment, the soft smirk that had been tugging at the corner of his lips slowly fading away as something more serious clouds his expression when he leans forward to whisper to you.

"No one's around, baby. Please? Can I?"

It takes you a second before you know exactly what he's asking for without needing him to specify, heat rising up from the depths of your chest and gathering in your cheeks.

He's got that look in his eyes too and you know that this is what it must have looked like the day he caught you with your face buried in his sweaty t-shirt. That feverish glint of potent want making his iris' gleam.

"Steve, it's too risky", you try to reason quietly despite the way your thighs are already parting for him, allowing him to skim the pads of his fingers over the seat of your panties, teasing your waiting folds through the thin later of fabric.

"Never stopped you before", he's quick to reply with wink, making you grow warmer at the reminder.

He's got you beat there.

"I promise I'll be quick", he pleads again softly and it's almost comical how quickly you buckle under the weight of his needy gaze.

"Shit, okay", you concede as you step closer to the edge of the booth and he pulls himself closer too, hand moving higher to cup your ass under your skirt.

You sigh contently when Steve leans forward and presses his nose against the front of your uniform, right over the juncture between your legs. You're careful to keep your grip tight on the handle of the coffee pot you're still carrying when he takes in a deep breath, inhaling your scent right through your clothes.

Steve liked to joke that you brought out this side of him, the one that made the both of you realize how alike you really were.

It started with the way he liked to linger between your legs after he'd finished eating you out. Your ruined panties spilled out of his back pocket, never to be returned to you as he took his time pressing sweet kisses against your swollen folds and spent clit with his sticky lips, clearly pleased with himself as you fought to catch your breath from the orgasm that'd rippled through you.

And as things progressed, he wasn't secretive about wanting to fuck you so hard and often that the smell of you would linger in the air long after you were done. Or how he liked to nestle his nose in the curls on your mound once he'd finished laving at your pussy – the moreish combination of sweat, saliva and your natural musk making his twitching cock stiffen all over again as he rut into the mattress for a second time, painting his sticky boxers with another generous load.

Other times he'd get on his knees for you, pulling you close by your hips so he could place his face against your clothed cunt and mumble dreamy praises about how good your pussy smelled. And you always loved it when he got like that, even now as your free hand strokes lazily through his caramel hair, letting him do this to you in the middle of your place of work, your coworkers unaware but not far away enough that they couldn't walk in at any moment and find the two of you like this.

"Stevie", you whined softly as you tried to get his attention, a reluctant reminder that the two of you should probably stop before it's too late.

"Jus' a little more, please? need it to tide me over before I can get you alone". His eyes are all glazed over when he looks up at you, tentatively slipping his other hand up the front of your thigh to hitch up the hem of your skirt ever so slightly, his gaze all pleading as he waits for your permission.

With the way he's managed to work you up, your panties more that a little tacky from his attention and your belly tightening with warmth, how could you possibly refuse when you needed this just as badly as he did?

"Fuck. Yes, okay – just be careful", you urge gently because 'be quick' doesn't seem likely anymore.

A look of pure bliss breaks out on his reddening face. "Christ. Thank you, baby", Steve groans appreciatively, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties before burying his face against your clothed mound. He can feel the outline of your cunt perfectly when he's this close – so soft and plump, his mounting greed has him battling the urge to pull the soaked cotton down to your knees and start sucking the tangy slick from your pretty, swollen pussy lips before pressing deeper to lick at your tight hole and all it has to offer.

Restraining himself, he lets out a muffled moan against your core that has your clit swelling and throbbing, your eyes slipping shut while you give yourself to him. It's almost soothing the way he savors you so shamelessly, head partially ducked underneath your rucked up skirt, fingers gently squeezing your ass with his blunt nails making light indents in your skin.

You let him breathe you in for a while longer until you begin to feel a little floaty and more than a little needy from it all, expecting Steve to pull away soon because how much longer could you get away with doing this in public? Stopping him isn't what you want, not really but you knew better than to push your luck by now.

But instead of him reluctantly withdrawing away from you, what you feel next is the wet drag of his tongue along your messy panties, warm, firm and sudden.

Although definitely not unwelcome, under the circumstances, the feeling of it startles you and you can't help but cry out with a yelp, arm jerking backwards as a splash of coffee makes its way onto the checkered diner floor.

Hearts hammering, the both of you rip apart from each other then, Steve with his wide eyes and ruffled hair as he plasters himself to his seat while you very nearly lose what's left of your balance when your shoes skid over the wet mess of spilled coffee. You manage to catch yourself though when you grab the edge of his table with your free hand, finally placing the damn coffee pot down to hurriedly pull your skirt back into place.

Silence overtakes the room as the both of you peer wordlessly in the direction of the kitchen and breakroom, waiting to see if you'd accidentally drawn the attention of any nearby diner staff.

Seconds turn into a minute and when no one comes through either of the doors you allow yourself to sigh out in relief, turning back to Steve.

"Shit. I'm sorry I couldn't help it – had to taste you, honey. You just – fuck, you just smell so fucking good. I needed a little more", he tries to explain when your eyes connect, his cheeks sheened with a thin layer of perspiration and flushed a deep pink.

You were foolish to think you could let him do all of that and endure waiting until the end of your shift to take things further in his car. Leaving him with his lips parted and his jaw slack, you stride away to the diner's entrance to quickly flip the 'open' sign over to read 'closed', rushing back to tug Steve up and out of his seat urgently, grinning when you catch sight of the stiff bulge straining in his jeans.

"Supply closet. Now. Need you to put that mouth of yours to good use."

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

So one of those batfam interferes with a cult ritual where the cult is offering/sacrificing a bride to the King of the Dead to gain his favor but something happens and a batkid ends up in the ritual circle instead stories BUT make it funny

BATFAM AFTER A TIRELESS WEEK OF FIGURING OUT HOW TO GET JASON (Jason? idk we'll go with Jason for this blub) BACK

THE ROOM FLOODS WITH LIGHT AND JASON IS REVEALED IN THE CIRCLE

Jason: ah! What the hell guys?!

Nightwing: we brought you home- what are you wearing

Jason, in beach clothes holding a ectoplasm icee in one hand and his sunglasses in the other while being noticeably tanner and with a giant gemstone ring on his finger: clothes. Why the hell did you guys bring me back?! I was enjoying my vacation

Robin: vacation? You were abducted by a supernatural force for the purposes of a forced marriage to a monstrous entity.

Red Robin: who was it by the way? Hades? Satan?

Jason: Danny.

Jason: *takes loud sip of icee*

Jason: my fiancé's name is Danny but his "ruling name" or whatever is High King Phantom. He's the ghost king.

Batman: that is a more obscure diety than we expected. Did you discover how to break the marriage contract?

Jason: break the marriage contract? Why would I want to do that?!

Robin: because you were abducted.

Jason: yeah but then he cured my pit rage and he's a absolute sweetheart and funny. Now send me back. This is why none of you were invited to my bachelor party which you so rudely kidnapped me from

Batman: no.

Jason: no? Im getting married in two days and none of you are blowing this for me. Send me back or I wont give you any favors once I become queen or consort or whatever I'll be. Let me live out my shitty romance novel dreams

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’m going to catch a cold.

alastor, lucifer, rosie, husk

⌇alastor

you looked the radio demon up and down, thinking that doing so from the farthest corner of the bar would ensure he didn’t see you. it’s not like you could help it though. alastor had switched out his normal suit for a gorgeous red velvet, his hair pulled up with what looked like braids in it, no doubt nifty’s doing. you took a sip of your drink and looked down, seeing him look up at your area of the bar.

you had been doing this since you had sat down at the bar. watching him interact with patrons and royalty, who were there to have their pocket books pried open for some funding as well as support for the hotel. it wasn’t an easy task by any means even with lucifer in support of the idea and here tonight. you were supposed to be chatting people up as well, but after the first guy you spoke to kept his hand on your arm for a little too long, you decided you were too sober for all of this.

you saw alastor’s attention be pulled else where, giving you your cue to look back up. he was angled away from you and you gulped audibly. the way the jacket fit his frame, his hair style complimented his long neck, and how his waist looked so deliciously tiny made your stomach warm and your face heat. you had zoned out, your mind taking you to an alternate reality where you had a chance of slipping off that coat of his… you shook your head and your eyes locked with alastor’s. you’re not sure how it was possible but your face heated even more, almost burning with the blush you had at being caught. you couldn’t look away though, even as he smirked at you.

you swallowed heavily and shakily took a sip of your drink as you saw him depart from whoever he was talking to, walk up to the bar and stand close next you.

“just a few fingers of that old rye you have back there.” alastor requested, and husk nodded turning away. giving alastor a chance to look down at you. you felt yourself shrink under his gaze as he smiled again, almost like a smirk. he grabbed the glass husk handed to him and you watched intently as he brought the glass up to his lips and sipped his drink, glancing at his neck and the way it moved. flickering your eyes back up to his as his grin widened. he bent down at his waist, you both face to face now.

“if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’ll catch a cold darling.” he murmured to you, as your eyes widened and you looked down ashamed. alastor chuckled and you felt his finger draw your face up to look at you again.

“cat got your tongue?” he asks, smirking. you try and speak but no words come out and you feel your face and now arms burning. you take your cool hands and place them on your cheeks. he draws them away, holding them.

“don’t do that. i like the red color. red as blood.” he says, kissing your right cheek, then straightening up and taking his drink and himself back into the middle of the party, shooting glances at you from time to time as you still just watched him charm the crowd.

⌇lucifer

there were many benefits to being with the king of hell. you practically never had to worry about anything, be that financial or even emotional or physical. you knew lucifer had you covered. he was in your corner. once word got around that you were dating the king of hell, the perks increased. you’d walk into a shop and the attendants wouldn’t let you buy anything. there was just a small ask to post it on sinstagram or voxtube and review it. which you never minded, but then that oddly started an influencing career in hell. that definitely was not something on your bingo card for when you died.

right now though, you were faced with the biggest detractor of dating the king of hell. he had to attend this gathering. very boring, and you felt your eyes glaze over as you sipped lucifer’s appletini he left. you watched him converse with this group of royalty and business people, you being the only one left at the table. not that you minded and no, you didn’t want to go make conversation over there. you sighed and decided to use this opportunity to really admire lucifer.

he was dressed in his suit but instead of the white base he wore around normally, the suit was gold with red accents. and it just brought out his eyes so well. he looked ethereal standing there, talking to those people. you gave him a once over and all you could think about was getting him out of that damn suit that fit him so well. just imagining him underneath you, panting and sobbing for-

“if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i might just catch a cold.” you hear lucifer’s voice in your ear. your gasp sounding more like a moan when he grabs the appletini in your hand and throws it back in one drink.

“undressing you? you were already undressed in my mind. already on the bed if i’m honest.” you murmur to him and watch the blush take his cheeks.

“this boring you?” he asks smiling.

“desperately.” you look at him. “we should go back home. we can pick up where i left off envisioning you on our bed underneath me… begging for more.” you grin wickedly as lucifer gulps. he quickly makes his way over to the group, explaining something and you see them all nod. he quickly makes his way back to you and takes your hand, waiting for you to get up. then he all but drags you out of the venue.

“let’s go home.”

⌇rosie

you had told rosie she should wear her new dress. and damn it she was so excited about it, that of course you said yes. now… a part of you regretted saying she should as one of the gentleman in cannibal town kept talking rosie up while she was checking out a long line of patrons. you tried to breathe as you just watched rosie. you knew she was capable of taking care of herself. you watched how she nimbly packed up different items, wrapping them all while charming all around her. her figure was so graceful and the dress hugged her just right, accentuating her waist. you bit your lip watching her. both of your eyes widening as you caught each others gaze.

you blushed deeply while she smirked at you and checked out the last guest in line. finally she took a second to come over to you.

“if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’m going to catch a cold darling.” she purred as she strode up to you. you saw behind her the same gentleman watching the both of you, his gaze hungry. you glared at him as you grabbed a bit of rosie’s skirt possessively, but not wanting to make a show. she chuckled.

“he’s really got you worked up, don’t he?” she asked.

“he keeps flirting with you. it’s disgusting.” you comment, looking at rosie. she hums and pulls you up so you were standing. she still towered over you, as she gently maneuvered you face to look up at her. she smiled again, licking her lips and she bends down and kisses you. your eyes widen as you throw your arms around her neck, reaching up on your tip toes to get closer.

you hum into the kiss, gently weaving your fingers in rosie’s hair and pulling at her nape. you feel the growl that comes from her, slightly panting as she break.

“get a fuckin’ room! absolutely disgusting. there are children!” you hear susan yell and you sigh. you hands at rosie’s waist, absentmindedly rubbing over the boning in the dress.

“i think you need to get back to the shop.” you sigh and rosie nods. “anything i can help with?”

“sit there and look pretty for me?” she asks and you laugh, nodding. you turn to the check out area and smile even brighter.

“he’s gone!” you exclaim. happy the guy from before wasn’t in the store.

“oh, yeah. he left right when i kissed you.” she laughed, patting down some of the fizz in your hair. “needed to make sure that everyone else knew who i was with though.” she winks and walks back up to the front counter as you sit back down and sigh. you wondered how you got so lucky.

⌇husk

watching husk talk to other patrons and quickly whip up drinks was a past time of yours that you greatly favored. it was sort of relaxing seeing him in an element that he excelled in, but honestly, just watching him and how good he was with his hands made you blush.

you were currently off, deep in thought, but husk caught your glance. your eyes widen as you try and look away, attempting to save whatever shred of dignity you had by playing it cool. you knew husk wasn’t dumb though. he had seen you staring.

he went back to work quickly enough and you waiting for a few more moments before looking out of the corner of your eye at him, watching him rim a glass with salt. he poured two liquors in at the same time topping off with some red liquid and a lime wedge, pushing it towards a demon who giggled as their hands touched being passed the drink.

you rolled your eyes and as soon as husk’s back was turned you took your opportunity to really look at him. he wore his usual suspenders and pants, but he had slicked back his hair tonight and had on a white button down shirt with suit themed cufflinks. it was an incredibly dapper look and you couldn’t help imagine taking off the damn shirt he was wearing. loosing your grip on reality again, you didn’t notice a drink being slid to you. you hear the drink before seeing it in front of you, looking up, you meet husk’s eyes. a smirk almost tattooed on his face. you blink a few times, trying to understand, when he chuckles.

“if ya keep starin’ at me sweetheart, and undressin’ me with those eyes of yours, i’m gonna catch a cold.” he takes back your old glass and leaves you sitting there bewildered as he helps the next guest. you take a sip and see a slip of paper from under the glass. you squint to read the scrawled handwriting.

“meet me at 1. party should be wrapped up then. you can stare all ya want.”

you placed your hand over the paper and felt your cheeks grow warm. he was going to be the death of you.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Blood Bag

DC vs. Vampires AU, but The Vampire King won. ~3.2k words

There's no warning, no notice for an apocalypse. There wasn't any preamble, when vampires established a new order to the world.

Jason, your Jason, had only whispered the basics as he held you to his chest. Had only told you he has to try and stop their leader, that if you knew anymore, it would be dangerous.

You knew being Red Hood was risky, but you had hoped, as you watched him leave your apartment, that he would be safe. That his family would protect him where you couldn't.

You waited for him to come back to you. To come back with the world saved and him unharmed.

He doesn't.

The world ends. It was quick, bloody, and ruthless. The world ends, and something new rose from the gore and destruction left in its wake. A new world begins, one led by The Vampire King, who reigns over it with sharpened claws and even sharper fangs.

The lucky ones got to continue with their lives, struggle to adapt to the new normal, their new rulers. The really lucky ones, the ones who were already powerful and godly, got changed into something unkillable.

The unlucky ones, you, got chosen for a far worse fate. Blood Bag. Vampires and humans alike spit it like a slur, like you're something less all because the bite marks that litter your skin. As if any one of you were given a choice.

You hadn't asked to be taken to the castle fortress that the Vampire nobility called home.

You had been in your apartment, watching the world fall apart from the safety of your home. Watching in a dazed horror as Dick Grayson's signature smile, now adorned with pearly fangs, flashed across the news, when he just appeared in front of you.

You'd said his name, jumped to your feet to touch him– to hug him, grateful he was safe and alive.

But he'd stopped you. Said he wasn't Jason anymore. Said he was just Red Hood now. It didn't make sense at the time.

Jason was Red Hood, and Red Hood was Jason. You didn't realize how wrong you were until you ended up kneeling alongside other humans in front of The Vampire King.

He had given a lavish speech about your new place in the world. That the humans staring up at him in fear and awe were special. Chosen to serve in his court. That being a Blood Bag was an honor and a privilege.

You might have believed it if they hadn't dragged you to the dungeons after.

You were left there, cold, confused, and hungry for almost a week. Your cell mates come and go, but the ones that return always come back with their skin covered in deep, telltale puncture wounds.

They whisper stories of the grand parties, the growing crowds of spawns, the brutality of The Vampire King, and his court.

You wait for your turn, and wonder if maybe when you are chosen, you'll be one of the prisoners that don't come back.

You don't get any warning, when it's your time. Two spawns with sunken eyes drag you from your sleep, hauling you from the dungeon and across marble floors.

They taunt you, proclaiming that you're a gift for The General. That you'll make a fine pet, a good blood bag, if he manages not to kill you tonight.

A part of you wants to scream. To cry. To beg. To hope as you have every night since Jason brought you here, that he'd come back for you. But your hope runs out as they force you into a lavish bedroom.

Two new spawns take over from the guards, they wash you, dress you, and soon enough, you almost look like you haven't spent a week in a cell. They leave you sitting on the soft bed and an order to not disappoint.

A part of you wants to use the moment, to seize the opportunity to escape. But you're so tired. So hungry. So thirsty. And the bed is so comfortable. But whatever comes next for you could be worse than that cell.

The door swings open, and you jolt from your thoughts. You're expecting someone fearsome. Someone terrible and evil and threatening. But it's Jason.

You think he's going to free you, save you. You believe it wholeheartedly. Until you see the glint of his fangs.

He steps towards you, eyes focused and dark, and you realize who The General is. You realize what he's going to do.

The first time Red Hood feeds from you, you feel nothing but pain. It's agonizing, to feel your life being dragged out of you and drank down by someone who could so easily kill you.

There's no ceremony. He sinks his fangs into your throat and leaves you exhausted and dazed on the bed while crimson drips haphazardly down his chin.

The second time isn't any easier, he only takes what he needs. His fingers don't brush over your skin to soothe you. He doesn't speak a word of comfort. He only presses gauze to the bite wound before leaving you to recover alone.

The third time is different. He lingers when he's done. You might be crying. You're too tired and dizzy to be sure.

But you're not so far gone that you don't notice the way he presses a kiss to the puncture marks. Like it's a twisted apology.

His hand traces lines over your back. He holds you close, even after he's done draining the blood from your veins.

The way he feeds from you changes after that. He treats you like you're precious. He presses kisses to your skin before he bites.

He licks away the trails of blood and tears. He presses his face to your pulse and doesn't move until your heart finds a steady pace.

He still doesn't speak. He hasn't since he told you he's not Jason anymore, but he hovers when he's done. He brushes his fingers along your jaw, watches you as you fall asleep.

It's not until you're brave enough to leave the room that you learn your status as Red Hood's Blood Bag has privileges.

It turns out the bedroom you've constantly been left alone in is yours. You can wander most of the castle and its gardens freely. No one else tries to feed from you.

But it doesn't stop the taunts and jeers. Doesn't stop the spawns or the high-ranking nobles or human servants alike from spitting curses at you.

But no one touches you. No one seems to want to earn Red Hoods, and in turn, The Kings, ire.

You hadn't realized the protection that his marks had offered you.

Not until you started to hear the whispers that followed you, the murmurs that warned of sinking their teeth into the only Blood Bag Red Hood seems interested in. How any bites or scratches not his would be a death sentence.

The months of faded scars that mark your skin serve as a warning to them. But to you, they're a stark reminder of the new world you're forced to navigate.

They become memories, in a way, of the mistakes you've made.

The bite on your palm marks the day you spoke to another Blood Bag out of turn. You can't forget the panic that sparked in their eyes as a spawn dragged them away. (You haven't seen them since)

The bite on your shoulder marks the night you tried to run. You had barely made it to the garden walls when Red Hood had lazily appeared at your side. It didn't take words to know he'd been aware of the moment you left your room.

Mistake after mistake, bite after bite, create a sick patchwork of art over your skin.

You try to cover the ones you can see, for your own piece of mind, but the extravagant outfit you're wearing now? The one that's been picked out for tonight's ball? Does little to hide exactly what you are.

It's rare for you to make an appearance at any of the Vampire Kings events, and the times you have gone have been incredibly short and spent entirely at Red Hood's side.

But the chatter that floats about you in the ballroom suggests The Vampire King had expected your presence. Each snide smile and quiet laugh sends a chill down your spine.

You'd expected this night at court to be like any other, one or two dances, and then a quick return to your room.

You're proven wrong when Red Hood is pulled from your side at the request of The King.

You're not completely sure how long you've been left waiting at the edge of the grand dance floor, but it's been long enough that your feet ache, and your shoulders feel tight.

Long enough that you don't think twice to slip out of the loud, music filled room and into the darker, quieter halls.

It's another mistake.

A spawn, drunk on blood and his own immortality saunters into your path. "A pest," he drawls, eyes eerily fixed on the juncture of your neck, "a pretty pest, but a pest nonetheless."

You offer a customary nod, safe under the illusion of safety the marks scattered over your body brings.

The spawn shatters the illusion when he snatches your hand with supernatural grace, "Be still, pest, I thirst."

"You can't," You protest quickly, the words spilling before you can think on them.

He pauses, head tilting in a mockery of interest, "and why ever not?"

"I'm–," You start, then pause, saying it aloud feels too real. "I'm Red Hood's," You finish, voice weaker than you mean it to be.

The spawn drags his claw over the palm of your hand, laughing as the drops of blood begin to form in a line of ruby dots, "You? Pretty pest. Not even the lowest of us would want to keep a Blood Bag that's been shared by so many."

"I haven't been–" You breathe out, but his claws only dig deeper into your skin, turning your words into a wince.

You don't tear up, don't cry or beg. It hurts. It always does. Even the idea of being fed on hurts. But your next thought keeps you quiet.

Maybe this spawn will lose control. Maybe, in a way, you can finally be free. The thought makes your heart rate spike, and you're not sure if it's in fear or anticipation. You're not sure if death is something you're ready to face.

He doesn't give you a moment more to think on it. The spawn pulls your palm to his mouth, fangs glinting as he prepares to bite down.

He doesn't get the chance.

A flash of red catches your eyes, and suddenly, your wrist is no longer restrained.

Your mind can't quite keep up with what just happened, and by the time you've even registered his presence, Red Hood has his claws buried in the spawns chest.

If the sight of blood wasn't something so common in The Vampire Kings court, you would be sick. It's messy, loud, when Red Hood rips the spawns unbeating heart from his chest.

You stumble to lean against the wall, when Jason tears the spawns head from his body and crushes it beneath his boot. You don't get a good look at what's left before Jason is in front of you, blocking your view.

He grabs your wrist and presses you flush to the wall. He offers you no warning before his tongue traces the line of blood on your skin.

It's something you should be used to, but you still make a noise of surprise, still instinctively try to pull away.

Jason only shoves a leg between your thighs, trapping you between his body and the wall behind you. His grip on your wrist tightens, and his head bends down again. His gaze doesn't stray from yours, almost like he wants you to watch.

Jason slowly licks at the cut again, then drags his fangs down your hand and to your wrist. He never blinks as he bites into your skin, adding another mark among the many others that cover your skin.

He drops your wrist and steps back once he's had his fill, "You were letting him feed from you. No one else feeds on you. Haven't I made that more than clear?"

"It's not my fault," You protest weakly, "He didn't believe me when I said I was–"

"That you were what," he asks, voice low and almost threatening. You find that entirely unfair, considering you're the only that almost had their life drained.

"That they're yours," a happy voice supplies with a chirp, "Maybe it's time you did something to show that, don't you think, Little Wing?"

You immediately drop your head at the sight of the Vampire King leaning against the wall. You can't help but think, by the cocky grin growing on his face, that he witnessed the entire thing.

Red Hood scoffs, like the idea is ridiculous, "They're covered in my bites. What else could they need? That idiot should have known–"

"But they didn't," The King supplies with a smile and walks over to you to lift your chin with a sigh, "and your little pet could have died for it."

Red Hood stiffens, and you can feel the tension growing in the corridor. He shoots a glance towards the decapitated spawn, as if he's considering removing the rest of their bones piece by bloody piece. "So what do you suggest," he finally asks, voice low and measured.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was on the verge of ripping you away from the Vampire Kings clutches.

The King only shrugs in return, "You should have shown them off more. Taken them to court. Feed from them during parties."

Red Hood goes to speak, but The King continues to talk as he tilts your chin back and forth, "Blood Bags are symbols, after all. Power. But you've always kept the things you like tucked close to your chest. Haven't you, Little Wing?"

"I don't– I don't like them. I just don't want some spawn watching me eat," Red Hood counters, and neither you nor Dick miss the way his fingers twitch towards you.

The Vampire King nods sagely, "Then I suppose you won't be interested in keeping them."

Red Hoods head snaps up in the same instant the Vampire King spins you around, his fangs catching the skin above your pulse, "And if you're not interested in a Blood Bag," he drawls, voice low and lazily as he trails off, leaving the implications of his threat in the air.

It leaves you wide eyed and frozen. The Vampire King presses closer to your back, drawing you by your hips as his free hand curls around your neck. His fangs don't quite break your skin, but the cold promise of them doesn't waver.

The ball hadn't scared you in this way. The spawn hadn't left you with tears filling your eyes, terror tightening your throat. Not even the dungeons had made dread fill every cell of your body.

Jason drops to his knees, any facade, any lie he had been trying to maintain disappears, "I want them. I want them. Please–"

The Vampire King laughs, and his fangs leave your throat. He shoves you, and you stumble to the ground into Jason's waiting arms. He keeps you caged tightly to his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head.

"I was only teasing, general, truly, you're the only member of my court who's proven time and time again you're deserving of your status," The King drawls.

You can't see him as Jason keeps your face pressed to his shoulder, but you can hear the sick glee building in his voice.

Jason tenses as Dick continues, satisfaction dripping from his tone, "The resistance camp you personally slaughtered? The leader's head left on spikes? I couldn't have done it better myself."

"I'm– I'm honored to have impressed you," Jason says steadily, fingers digging into your skin. You think if he still had a heart, it would be beating just as fast as yours.

The Vampire King hums in response, as if he's suddenly grown bored, "Go enjoy the gala, Little Wing. Remind the raff who you are. And what that makes them."

Jason doesn't argue, just hauls you towards your feet and drags you towards the ball. You keep your gaze lowered, but you can still see him checking over his shoulder, as if he's worried the Vampire King will change his mind.

"What he said– about a resistance–" You begin to ask, desperate for knowledge, but more desperate to finally hear his voice again.

"Don't. They won't win," he answers sharply, not giving you a chance to ask more questions as he pulls you into the ballroom, and drags you to the dance floor.

He doesn't let you find your footing before he's spinning you around the dance floor, arm hooked firmly around your waist.

You try to ignore the remnants of blood, his boots leave on the sparking floor.

Every cell in your body screams at you to talk again, to demand answers. To know how he ended up like this. To know why all he seems to leave you with now are questions and scars.

You open your mouth to ask, throwing whatever decorum you should have in front of The Vampire Kings court to the wind, when Jason drops you into a dip.

Your breath hitches, and his lips find your pulse.

The sounds of the ball seem to fade around you as you stare up at the decorative ceiling lined with mirrors and gold.

He kisses down your throat, curls his hand tighter into your back and all you can think about is how odd it is, to know the room is so full and yet there's nearly no reflections in the mirrors above.

Jason runs the tip of his nose back up your neck, following the veins under your skin.

"You've always smelled so good," he murmurs. It's the only warning he gets before he sinks his teeth into your throat, drinking you down in the center of the ballroom for everyone to see.

It draws a whimper from your lips, and it only seems to encourage him to hold you tighter, to lick every trail of blood that spills from the marks on your neck.

He kisses the punctures his fangs left when he's done. It feels less like an apology this time, and more of a claim.

When he finally lifts you from the dip, when you're finally able to steady your vision even as it threatens to swim, he shows you his teeth, and his lips are dyed in the color of your blood.

"Brava," the distinctive voice of The Vampire King breaks through your hazy mind. Your eyes never leave Jason's, even as clapping begins to sound throughout the ballroom.

You're not sure what it means. You're not sure if The Vampire Kings' interest in you is just some passing folly.

But Jason's eyes are dark, intense, and they flicker with the weight of knowing. But there's more to it than knowing. It's clear in the way his eyes never yours either. There's a desire, a want, a need to keep.

To make it an unshakable truth, that whatever role you're meant to play in The Vampire Kings world, you're going to do it at Jason's side.

His eyes hold a promise, and he seals it with a bloody kiss to your pounding pulse.

[thealtoduck]

Dally

Jason Todd x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut, anal sex, bottom!Reader, top!Jason, rough sex, unprotected sex, blowjob, fingering, doggy style, porn with plot, size kink, you and Jason are both kinda tipsy, Jason is aftercare king, you and Jason are unkowingly filmed, angst ending…

N/n = Nickname

The Socialite and The Vigilante | Masterlist

Summary: You and Jason get tipsy at an event and go back to your place…

(A/n: No. 1 Hoe Anthem)

——

One of the mayoral candidates, Mr Stone, had invited the Gotham Elite for what he called ”a celebration of Gotham’s greatest”. But from what you’d heard his campaign was running low on funds and he wanted to sweet talk all the people with deep pockets.

Whatever the reason may be you were now stuck there amongst the crowd of ”Gotham’s greatest”. You’d preferred to not go but according to your mother it’d be improper to ditch such an event and in her own words ”You have to go cause I don’t want to, I can’t stand that man”.

So you sacrificed yourself to spend the evening at the party… plus Jason had been forced to go along with his family and you promised you’d keep him company.

You watched as Jason entered in the company of his family, he was dressed in a black suit, giving him a dark and luxurious look. He and his family were greeted by Mr Stone.

While Bruce spoke to Mr Stone, Jason looked around the crowd of black suits and evening dresses until his eyes met yours and a soft smile appeared on his face. Once Mr Stone left them to enjoy the party Jason made his way to you.

You were stood in a corner looking at nice sculpture when Jason approached you. ”No tie?” he asked noticing you substituted a tie with a thin sliver chain necklace. ”Never been the biggest fan of ties, Jay, you know that” you stated in a your more upper class tone that tended to come out at these types of events.

”Well, you look great” Jason said grazing his hand against yours slightly. ”You too” you said adjusting his hair slightly. ”I’ll go get us some drinks” Jason said, soon coming back with two glasses of champagne, handing you one.

He then lowered his hand in his pocket bringing out a hip flask, pouring some of the contents in his own glass before offering ”Whiskey?”. Making you let out a small laugh before holding your glass out to him, saying ”If you insist”.

You and Jason mostly kept to yourselves through the party. You listened to Mr Stone’s speech talking about how good his campaign was going but made sure to add that it does take it’s toll on him, his workers and his family. But most of all to his wallet, he had joked making light polite laughs sound out in the room.

You and Jason found a table to relax at, sipping your drinks. The event was quite the bore, the music was dull, the decorations were plain, even the champagne on it’s own felt tasteless. You were lucky Jason had brought the flask.

Soon you and Jason were joined by Mr Stone himself. ”Mr Todd, Mr St. Cloud, enjoying yourselves?” he asked, you put on a polite smile and said ”Of course, it’s quite the event you’ve put together, Mr Stone”.

”Thank you, what a shame your mother couldn’t come” Mr Stone said. ”Yeah, she really wanted to but she wasn’t feeling well, but she wishes you luck with the mayoral campaign” you lied, your mother had said nothing of the sort, you were just being polite.

”You boys are old enough to vote now, right?” Mr Stone mentioned, you and Jason shared a look, you’d both been waiting for the topic to come up. ”Yes, we are” Jason answered and you nodded. ”Well, I hope this party has helped convince you who to vote for” he suggested followed by a lighthearted chuckle.

You did your best to not roll your eyes and said with a smile ”Of course, Mr Stone, you have our support”. ”You bet, Mr Stone” Jason said in a fake cheery tone. Mr Stone then said goodbye leaving you and Jason, your expression immediately turned to disgust as Mr Stone was out of sight.

”I hate him” Jason stated, followed by you saying ”Me too”. ”Let’s get some more champagne and then get out of here” you told him, he nodded in agreement and the two of you went to the drink table. Jason emptied the last of his whiskey in to your glasses and you drank.

Once you’d both finished 2 more glasses each you made your way towards the exit, you called your chauffeur to pick the two of you up. As soon as the two of you came out on sidewalk Jason loosened his tie and you took off your suit jacket.

Soon a familiar car pulled up in front of you and you and Jason climbed in the backseat. ”You wanna come back to my place or do you need a ride elsewhere?” you offered him, Jason smiled. ”Think I’ll join you” he said placing a hand on your thigh.

You leaned in against Jason’s shoulder, as the chauffeur started driving towards your apartment building.

Luckily for you the traffic was good enough for you to be home in a short while, you and Jason stepped out of the car and you thanked your chauffeur before making your way up to your apartment on the top floor.

As you stood in the elevator, Jason’s hand once more grazed against yours, this time your fingers intertwined. When you reached the top floor, you stepped out of the elavator to your door and you unlocked it.

You and Jason entered the penthouse, taking of your shoes. You threw your suit jacket aside and led the way towards the stairs, closely followed by Jason.

You started unbuttoning your shirt as you entered your bedroom, turning to Jason who looked curious where this was going. You threw your button up aside and stepped closer to him, you unbuttoned his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders letting it drop to the floor.

You then pushed your lips to Jason’s, while he snaked his arms around your waist as you started to hungrily make out. You then started unbuttoning Jason’s shirt revealing his athletic chest. You started lowering yourself to your knees as you placed kisses down his abs.

Until you were on your knees in front of him, you undid Jason’s belt and pulled down his pants letting them fall to his ankles. Jason had grown hard, his bulge noticable in his tight white briefs. You pulled down his underwear setting his big legth free.

His hard dick pointed to your face. When Jason looked down the sight gave him a sense of satisfaction, you half naked ready to suck his cock. You started taking Jason’s member in to your mouth, teasing the tip with your tongue.

Jason let out a small breath as you started taking more of him in to your warm mouth. You soon started moving your head back and forth on his cock. Jason’s mouth hung open as you went down on him.

”Fuck, you’re perfect” he said holding the sides of your head, using every bit of restraint to not start thrusting in to you. You worked your tougue on his dick, licking up and down his shaft.

When Jason looked down the sight alone could make him spill his load. You with his thick cock stuffed in your mouth, shining with your saliva on it. Before you could make him cum he pulled out of your mouth.

”Your turn, rich boy” Jason said teasingly, you raised an amused eye brow at him.

He then helped you up from the floor. He let his unbuttoned shirt fall to the floor and stepped out of his pants and underwear that were pooled around his ankles. He then undid your belt before pushing you backwards on to your bed.

You spread your arm out on the silk white sheets feeling as if you were laying down on a cloud. Jason then started pulling your pants down your legs. You seductively pulled off your own white briefs before throwing them at Jason, hitting him in the chest.

Now you were left wearing nothing but your silver necklace and a pair of white socks. Jason took a moment to take in the pornographic sight in front of him and then climbed on to the bed and your naked bodies tangled together as you made out lustfully.

Jason’s hand trailed all the way down your back to your butt. He didn’t waste any time bringing his finger between your cheeks and pushing it inside you making you moan while your mouth was pressed to his.

He used his fingers to work you loose and open so you’d be ready to take all off him. Once he was done he pulled out a bottle of lube from you nightstand pouring a generous amount on his huge shaft.

You positioned yourself face down - ass up wanting Jason to take you like a bitch. Jason stood on his knees in front of your awaiting hole as he rubbed the lube along his length. He teased your hole with the thick tip of his cock as you whined in to the sheets impatiently.

And who was Jason to say no to a slut in need of filling.

He started working his in to your tightness as you gasped at the intrusion. He pushed himself deeper and deeper into your warmth feeling you clench around his cock. ”That’s nice” he whispered at the feeling of you tightly around his manhood.

Jason wasn’t a small man, he was hung like a horse. You let out heavy breaths as Jason slowly sunk himself in to you, streching you out even further than he’d done with his fingers. He said praises to you, watching you beneath him as his cock entered you inch by inch.

Once he had sheathed himself inside you he waited for you to adjust to the size of him. You gripped the soft sheets of the bed as you were streched out to accept Jason’s hung cock. ”Fuck” you swore.

Soon you were ready to take all of him. Jason started moving slowly as pushed himself in and out of your tightness. His hands were placed on the globes of your ass squeezing them softly in his strong hands.

You were starting to get the feeling of bliss everytime Jason was fully stuffed inside you, making you moan as he worked your ass perfectly. ”Harder Jay” you said wanting him to take you to ecstasy.

”That’s all I needed to hear, baby” Jason said with an audible smirk as he willfully obliged and sped up his thrusts, rolling his hips like a machine. He put a hand on your back pressing you in to the matress as he took you. The sound of his thrusts starting to sound out through out the room.

You gripped the sheets as Jason thrust deeper in to you, his dick jabbing at your prostate making you let out a delighted scream of pleasure. ”That’s right, N/n, scream for everybody to hear me fucking you” he said cockily.

Jason hadn’t realised until now how much he had been longing to fuck you again after your first one night stand during the party at Wayne Manor.

Jason moved his hand to your hips pulling you to meet his harsh thruts into you. Beads of sweat started forming on his forehead. He wanted you to feel all the pleasures sex could bring.

Jason made you feel as if you were seeing all the stars in the heaven, as his hung cock was shoved deep in your heat. ”So- ugh! Big!” you said through your loud moans. A cocky smile spread on Jason’s lips. He was fucking you so good you could barely talk.

As Jason roughly pounded himself deeply in to you felt yourself getting close to orgasm. ”Jay, I’m gonna cum” you whined as Jason showed no sign of slowing down his rolling thrusts.

Your shot your load and it splashed on to the silk sheets below as Jason continued plowing his cock in to you. ”You’re so fucking good around my cock” Jason said through his rapid breaths as he fully lost control and fucked you like there was no tommorow.

”I’m gonna cum” he soon told you.

”Fill me, Jay” you begged and that was all it took for Jason to plant himself deep in you ass and let his cock explode inside you, filling you with his warm sticky seed. He breathed heavily as he let all of his orgasm spill inside you.

Once he was done he slowly pulled out of you leaving your hole gaping from his cock. His seed soon started pouring out of you, running from your used warmth down your legs. Jason looked proudly at the mess he had made of you before he walked to the bathroom.

Coming back with a wet towel and started cleaning his seed off of your body. Once he was done he threw the towel aside on the floor. You turned around and laid down on your back. Jason sat down by your side and stroked your thigh, asking sweetly ”Can I get you anything? N/n”.

”Could you get my night shirt from the closet?” you asked and Jason immediately stood up looking through your closet until he brought out a glossy white silk night shirt. ”Why is everything you own white silk?” he questioned amused as he helped you put it on.

”Why not?” you simply asked back. You took off your necklace putting it on your bedside table. You and Jason both laid down side by side on your bed. Jason was on his back and you laid your head resting against his pec.

”You were amazing” Jason said placing a kiss on your head. ”You too” you said stroking his abs lovingly.

You both soon drifted off too sleep…

——

2 days later…

You sat with your laptop on your couch checking your emails. Some adds, some social stuff, nothing too intresting. You took a sip of your coffee and as you swallowed a new mail appeared on the screen.

The sender was not listed.

You opened the mail and read ”We have something you might not want to reach the media, Mr St. Cloud” which was all it said. Then you noticed there was a video attached to the mail. You pressed the file and it loaded until a video started playing.

Your eyes widend the video showed a boy getting plowed roughly by his by another guy, but you soon realised this was your bedroom. ”Harder, Jay” your voice came from the video making you gasp in shock. Then came Jason’s voice ”That’s all I needed to hear, baby”.

Someone had hidden a camera in your room filming you and Jason that night. You slammed your laptop shut and rushed upstairs in to your room. Judging by the angle of the video the video had been taken from your bedside table.

You were confused you only had your alarm clock and a bottle of water on the table… Then you noticed it, on the side of the alarm clock was a black spot - no, not a spot a small round camera lens.

You picked up the alarm clock taking a closer look at it to it to make sure. Definetely a lens. Enraged you threw the alarm clock in to the ground making it smash on impact. You stormed out of the room bringing out your phone knowing who you needed to call.

”Hey St. Cloud” Jason answered a flirty tone in his voice.

You could only find one phrase to tell him ”Jay… we’re completely fucked”.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aegon Targaryen - Tethering Ties

Summary - Betrothed by the King's decree to repair a fractured royal lineage, neither finds joy in their union. Tensions flare at dinner, resulting in a violent altercation that leaves her injured. Aegon chooses an unconventional way to apologise, his mouth between her legs.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x Strong reader

Warnings - Sexual content (oral f!receiving), violence, mild language

Word count - 2485

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Her children are bastards and she is a whore."

The phrase slithered through the hallowed corridors of King's Landing like a serpent, venomous and unrelenting. It clung to my siblings and me like a second skin, an indelible mark of shame etched into our very souls.

I tried to ignore the whispers and stares, but their impact lingered, a heavy burden on my heart. 

My betrothed, Prince Aegon Targaryen, was displeased when he learned of the King's decision. Marrying his firstborn son to his firstborn granddaughter was intended to mend the fragile relationships within our family, but it brought him no joy.

As the carriage rumbled over the cobblestones, the Red Keep loomed ahead, its towering walls a reminder of past glories and present fears. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone. This was not just a homecoming, it was a return to the heart of a nest of vipers.

I accepted the hand of my brother, Jace who looked at me with a pitiful expression, which only deepened my misery. 

"Do not look at me as if I am a wounded pup," I murmured. "I refuse to wallow in despair."

Jace merely shrugged, unable to hide his concern. As I turned, I felt another arm slip into mine. It was my younger brother, Luke, his innocent brown eyes gazing up at me with unwavering trust. His presence was a small comfort.

There was no welcome party awaiting us upon our arrival, an absence that I expected. The grandeur of King's Landing seemed hollow, a silent testament to the tension that permeated the air. 

Instead, we were left to settle into our chambers, the hours dragging by until dinner, where the family would finally convene.

I absentmindedly fingered the pendant around my neck, a dragon, wrought in gold. It was a gift from my mother, a reminder of the legacy I was bound to but today, it felt more like a chain than a symbol of power.

As we entered the dining hall, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken animosity. The long table, laden with lavish dishes, seemed more like a battlefield than a place of familial gathering. 

My betrothed, Aegon, sat beside me, his face a mask of displeasure. Across from us sat my brothers, Jace and Luke.

"Princess," a voice called out, and my head shot up. My eyes turned to my grandsire, the King, who looked withered and worn. "I trust the journey from Dragonstone was well," he continued.

"Yes, Your Grace, the journey was well, tiring but well," I answered, and he smiled at me proudly.

My eyes flicked to my mother, who gave me a reassuring look and a tight-lipped smile. Not a single person in this room was entirely pleased with the arrangement the King had so eagerly requested.

This marriage was supposed to unite our fractured family, but all I could see were the chains it would bind me in. A future of duty, not of choice.

Next, I turned to the Queen, who was looking in my direction but not at me. Her expression was firm as she seemed to be scolding her son in a hushed tone, and he grumbled next to me.

"Princess, I hope you are well," he said, turning to me as his mother looked away. I held back a sigh, clearing my throat before responding. 

"Prince Aegon, it has been quite some time since we've last seen each other," I pointed out, my hand tightening around my chalice as he downed his drink in a single gulp, motioning for it to be refilled.

"Yes, that may have to do with the night your brother maimed mine," he said with a smile as if it were a simple jest.

"You are correct," I said, my grip on the chalice loosening as my confidence returned. "The same night the Queen demanded the eye of my brother in retaliation, the eye of a young boy simply defending himself from heinous accusations you informed your brother of,"

To my surprise, instead of getting angry, Aegon laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that caught the attention of everyone in the room.

"I am glad to see that the match seems to be faring well," Viserys said, and all I could muster was a polite smile. If only he knew.

"I don't want this," I admitted quietly, feeling his scoff next to me. 

"And you think I do?" he retorted, his tone sharp as I rolled my eyes. 

"All I'm saying is that I am not going to be subdued," I added meeting his gaze head-on. He raised an eyebrow, urging me to continue.

"You may be a prince, but I am a princess," I asserted, my voice steady. "My mother is next in line for the Iron Throne, and if I wish it, I will be after her. I do not plan on being trapped in a castle, producing heirs," I finished, taking a deliberate sip of my drink.

"Oh, my sweet niece," Aegon began. "How you have grown, you do not know the joy it brings me to know my future wife is such a fierce and ambitious lady," he added sincerely.

"I quite appreciate the idea of having such a challenging partner," he whispered the words into my ear, his breath tickling my neck as he pulled away ever so slowly.

Aegon's expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes, something that spoke of more than just duty. Was it resentment? Regret? Or something more dangerous? I couldn't tell, and that uncertainty only deepened my unease.

Dinner continued in strained silence, the earlier tension still palpable. Each forced smile and stilted conversation was a reminder of the precarious nature of our situation. 

My mind wandered as time went on.

It didn't take long until dinner had come to an end, and the adults began to retire to their chambers. Only the younger members of the family were left behind, the room now significantly quieter. 

The tension, however, remained.

Aemond, ever the provocateur, fixed his one good eye on Luke, a predatory gleam in his gaze. He raised his goblet with a mocking smile. 

"To the arrangement of my brother Aegon and my niece," he began, his voice dripping with malice. "You have all grown into quite respectable, charming, strong individuals."

My eyes quickly flickered to Jace and Luke, sensing the tension mounting. Jace clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around his goblet, but it was Luke who reacted first.

"What did you say?" Luke's voice trembled with barely contained fury. 

He stood abruptly, knocking his chair back. Aemond's smirk widened, and he rose from his seat, towering over Luke. "You dare deny it?"

In an instant, Luke lunged at Aemond, fists flying. The room erupted into chaos as the two collided, their movements a blur of anger and violence. The sound of fists hitting flesh and furniture crashing to the ground filled the air.

"Enough!" I shouted, trying to intervene, but my voice was drowned out by the tumult.

Jace sprang to his feet, moving to pull Luke off Aemond, but the younger boy was relentless, his fury driving him forward. Aemond fought back with equal ferocity, a cruel smile playing on his lips even as he exchanged blows with Luke.

Before I could react, Aemond's arm swung out wildly, and his fist connected with my face. 

Pain exploded across my cheek, and I stumbled backwards, my vision blurring. Blood trickled from my split lip, and I could taste its metallic tang.

Aegon and Jace reacted simultaneously. Jace leapt at Aemond with a roar, fists flying, while Aegon pulled me back from the fray, his grip firm but gentle. 

"Stay back!" he insisted, his voice tight with anger.

The dining hall descended into utter chaos. Jace and Aemond were locked in a furious struggle, their movements wild and desperate. Aegon kept me shielded behind him, his eyes darting between the brawl.

"Are you alright?" Aegon asked urgently, his hand brushing against my bruised cheek. The anger in his eyes was mixed with worry, a stark contrast to his usual aloof demeanour.

"I'm fine," I managed to reply pushing him away, though my voice shook.

Aegon stepped forward, his presence commanding enough to momentarily halt the fight. 

"Enough!" he roared, grabbing Aemond by the shoulder and pulling him away from Jace.

Aemond struggled against Aegon's grip, but the arrival of the Kingsguard finally brought the brawl to an end. The guards separated the combatants, their stern faces brooking no argument.

"Luke, Jace, let's go," I demanded, grabbing both of their arms. 

I cast one final glance back towards the dining hall, where Aegon was engaged in conversation with Aemond. Aegon looked over at me, and all I could manage was a solemn shake of my head.

Tonight, the fragile peace had shattered, and the consequences were far from over.

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting its silvery glow as I stood in my chamber, tending to the wound on my face with a hot cloth. 

I couldn't stop the flood of conflicting emotions. Anger at Aemond, frustration with my brothers, and a deep, gnawing fear of what this marriage would truly mean. Aegon's unexpected tenderness only added to my confusion.

Just as I was about to press the fabric against my skin, a firm knock echoed through the room. With a resigned sigh, I set aside the cloth and moved to open the door.

To my surprise, Aegon stood before me as I swung the door wide.

"What do you want?" I asked curtly, annoyance evident in my tone, I turned away, expecting him to leave.

Instead, he stepped inside, ignoring my dismissal. 

"I am merely seeing if you are alright," he said, taking the cloth from my hands and guiding me to sit. He dabbed at my injury, his touch surprisingly tender.

Aegon's hand reached out, brushing against my bruised cheek. I flinched, pulling back instinctively. He chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in the sound. 

"Do not pretend to care," I snapped, hating the tremor in my voice. He didn’t retreat, just tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Alright," he admitted, his gaze unwavering. "I came to see you. It's been quite some time, hasn't it?"

"What are you really after, Aegon?" I demanded, fixing him with a sceptical glare.

"You've caught me," he replied smoothly, closing the distance between us. "It seems time has only sharpened your wit and beauty," he continued, his hand reaching out to caress my cheek.

"You've grown so beautifully over the years," he murmured, his voice sincere yet unsettling.

"All I wanted," he murmured, his tone laced with suggestive intent, "was to see how you feel, how you'd make me feel."

Without thinking, I reacted, my hand snapping across his face in a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the room, breaking the tense silence like a crack of lightning

He recoiled, a hand flying to his stinging face, while I stood there, a mixture of disbelief and indignation flooding my senses. My own hand flew to cover my mouth, stunned by both his brazenness and shock at my own action.

"Aegon," I murmured, my voice barely audible as he chuckled softly. "I didn't..." The words failed me, hanging in the air between us. 

He tilted his head, his jaw clicking before a slow smile spread across his face.

"Tell me to leave," he said, his voice a mix of challenge and invitation. I wanted to, truly, but the words stuck in my throat. 

"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop," he continued, taking another step closer, his gaze unwavering as it searched my face for any sign of resistance.

There was none.

"Okay," he murmured, his fingers threading gently through my hair. He loomed over me, a commanding presence as I sat in my chair.

Suddenly, he knelt before me, his hands hiking up my nightgown with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Tell me to stop," he repeated, his voice low and insistent. 

I shook my head, a barely audible "no" escaping my lips. His smirk deepened, a triumphant glint in his eyes.

His face disappeared between my legs, and he began trailing small, wet kisses along my inner thighs. The sensation sent shivers through me, making me squirm in my seat. I bit my lip, a soft moan escaping as his mouth moved closer to where I wanted him most.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and need. "Don't stop."

Encouraged by my words, Aegon intensified his efforts. He started by kissing the sensitive skin at the crease of my thigh, his lips soft and warm. His tongue flicked out, teasing me with light, fluttering touches. 

He took his time, exploring the area with a deliberate, languid pace, savouring every reaction he elicited from me. Each touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making me arch towards him, seeking more.

He moved closer, his breath hot against my skin, and then his mouth was on me. His tongue parted my folds, moving in slow, sensual circles around my clit. He alternated between gentle, teasing flicks and firm, insistent strokes, driving me wild with desire. 

I gasped, my hands flying to his head, my fingers tangling in his hair as I held him close, urging him on.

He was relentless, his mouth working skillfully, driving me to the edge again and again. My breaths came in ragged gasps as he sucked lightly, then harder, his tongue darting out to tease and tantalize. 

The intensity of the sensations built rapidly, a tight coil of pleasure winding inside me, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Aegon," I moaned, my voice breaking as I teetered on the brink. 

He responded with a deep, satisfied hum, the vibration sending a jolt of ecstasy through me. His lips and tongue moved faster, more insistently, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

With a final, shuddering gasp, I fell over the edge, my body convulsing in pure ecstasy. He didn't stop, his tongue continuing its dance, drawing out my pleasure until I was utterly spent, collapsing back into the chair, breathless and trembling.

Aegon pulled away slowly, his eyes meeting mine with a smug, satisfied look. 

"Consider that an apology," he said, his voice a seductive whisper.

I nodded, unable to form words, my mind still reeling from the intensity of what had just transpired. His mouth was glistening with my release, and he licked his lips with a self-satisfied smirk.

With a final, lingering gaze, Aegon stood up, straightening his clothes with unhurried confidence. He turned and made his way to the door, each step deliberate, leaving me in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss.

I watched him leave, my body still thrumming with the aftermath of his touch. As the door closed behind him, I let out a long, shaky breath, trying to collect myself. My heart was still racing, my skin flushed with the memory of his mouth on me.

Leaning back in the chair, I closed my eyes, a slow smile spreading across my lips.

A/n - Aegon's idea of a "warm welcome" involves more than just a friendly handshake, he's just really into making an impression x

[elfy-elf-imagines]

Tolerate It | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.

▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The banquet hall of Eryn Galen was buzzing with high energy. 

The lights were bright, the drinks flowing. Each guest was too deep in their cups as the band played jaunty tunes that kept spirits high. You sat at the end of the table, to the direct right of Thranduil, Legolas seated directly across from you to the king's left. 

Everything was beautiful, similar to what you imagined heaven may look like. The celebration had been highly anticipated, the steward meticulously planning for months to ensure the night would be perfect. 

Each guest had dressed to the nines, and you had been no exception. Silks that flowed like a languid river, braids woven throughout your hair, and glittering jewels that rivaled the stars in the sky. You’d felt quite pretty after your handmaidens finished, taking in your appearance with rapt attention. 

Yet as the king - your husband - met with you, he barely paid you more than a glance. Not a single compliment or acknowledgment slipped from his lips, just the stiff offering of his arm and a cold demeanor you’d never been able to break through.

Not even the bitterness of the red wine you drank could ease the pain festering inside you. You glanced at Thranduil, his attention on his steward whispering something in his ear. Regal and commanding, you’d thought marriage to the elven king would be something out of a fairytale. Yet your story became twisted, and instead of a happy ending, you were trapped in a doomed marriage. It was like a wall separated you from him; you’d tirelessly beat against it with a hammer; Thranduil was on the other end, reinforcing the stone. 

You glanced down at your dress, the pale green fabric, Thranduil’s favorite shade. Even still, you were desperate for his validation and approval, like a child tugging at their father’s sleeves. A stray hair fell in front of your face, and you pushed it behind your ear, hands ghosting over your rounded ears. Maybe if you’d been an elf and not a human, he might view you as an equal and not a consolation prize. 

One hand below the table closed into a tight fist while you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp. 

Legolas met your eye from across the table with an almost apologetic grin. You returned it with a tight smile you tried to make pleasant. Legolas knew all too well the neglect his father could inflict, so he often preferred the forests over the palace. There was an understanding that made your pain more bearable. 

The handmaidens you brought from home and your stepson, who was older than your eldest living relatives, were all that kept you from falling into true despair. 

Like clockwork, a servant filled your chalice, and you gladly drank. This wine was sweeter and less sharp than the red you were expecting. Once again, you looked towards Thranduil, no longer speaking with his steward but quietly watching the party play out. You reached out, delicately placing your hand over his, only for his to push it away, not bothering to pay you a glance. 

The blatant rejection stung, always taking up too much space and time. Would Thranduil even notice if you’d stolen away into the night? If you pulled the dagger your marriage embedded in you, breaking free and leaving this miserable life behind. What might it be like to shed the weight of Thranduil’s cold disposition and an overly suspicious, judgmental, elvish kingdom? You’d be free and weightless for the first time in years. 

Yet, just as soon as the fantasies came, they fizzled out with the weight of reality. You had no money of your own, no survival skills, and nowhere to go. If you returned home, your father would ship you back to Thranduil. The dark forests and the creatures that lurked within would kill you. There was nowhere to go. No freedom to be found. 

You didn’t bother hiding the frown on your lips; no one in the room paid you much mind. They looked through you as if you were a phantom that clung to the residence of its former life. How was it possible to be in such a crowded room and yet still be so alone?

"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?"

At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort.

" I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."

Legolas laughed, the noise swallowed by the noise of the room. "And yet you are queen; should you not be used to such raucous parties?"

You tilted your glass towards him, a slight quirk on your lips.

"I could say the same about you, prince."

He nodded in silent agreement, quickly drinking from his glass, which you noticed was filled with water and not wine.

"I get to run off to the forest. How do you deal with all of this?" The smile on your face fell as your eyes dimmed, a reminder of your current standing.

"No one pays me mind. A blessing, I suppose." You attempted to laugh it off, but you couldn't keep the somberness from your tone. You were trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in your own home.

"Then I suppose I'll need to take more respites in the castle."

"You don't need--"

"I insist; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't check on your wellbeing."

So warm and inviting, it made you wonder how Legolas could be the son of Thranduil; he must take after his mother. You wondered, if only for a moment, how different your life might be if you'd been married to Legolas instead of his father. He was the more age appropriate option and if he didn't love you he'd at least respect you. But those thoughts were pointless; you'd been married to Thranduil and not Legolas.

"I think I'm technically your stepmother."

"But you feel more like a friend."

You didn't bother to argue, placing down your wine chalice to take a cool water drink. It was refreshing, soothing the burn the wine had created.

"Then I am glad we are friends."

Before he could respond, a member of his guard called his name. The elf enthusiastically waved him over, yelling something in elvish too slurred for you to understand.

Legolas shook his head, refusing the call, but you placed a single hand on his shoulder.

"Go, enjoy the night. I'll be fine over here."

He tried to discern if you were being dishonest but found nothing but sincerity. Just because you were miserable didn't mean he should be. With a single nod, Legolas left the table to join the group forming in the corner of the room.

Left in the chaos with no one to speak with, you picked up the chalice with wine. At some point during your conversation, Thranduil wandered off, talking with some of the higher-ranking nobles.

Thickly, you swallowed, hiding your face as you slowly drank from your glass.

When would this torment end?

---

The night dragged on at an impossibly slow speed. Your sorrow brought time to a near halt. By the time the crowd began to thin and Thranduil had escorted you back to your shared chambers, you’d forgotten how many glasses of wine you consumed. You managed to keep your composure and pride, not letting you show how light and lethargic the alcohol made you. 

Now, you sat before your vanity, preparing for bed as did Thranduil. There were so many pins placed in your hair that you struggled to pull them out without ripping your hair. Your head throbbed, and your frustration was building; you just wanted sleep. A cold hand pushed yours away, tangling in your hair. With practiced and fluid movements, Thranduil began to take down your hair. He was quick and efficient, his hands in your hair almost soothing.

The action was oddly domestic, and it caused a pang of pain in your chest. If the gods had been fair enough to bless you with a husband who loved you, this would be a nightly occurrence, not a rare show of care. 

“There’s too many pins in your hair.” Always critical; nothing would ever be good enough. 

A beat of silence passed; did he even want you to speak?

“It was a special occasion; I wanted something different done to my hair.” 

Clink. He placed the last pin on the table and stepped away from you.

“It was a bit gauche.”

Expression tight, you stared at your reflection, focused on your dark hair that tangled too quickly and your nearly pallid complexion. Gauche and graceless, the elves would never view you as their own. 

“I thought it looked nice.” 

His answer was to silently turn his back to you, moving to the other end of the room. The silence was maddening. Your attention never moved from your reflection, lips downturned as your eyes hardened. Pain turned to rage, pity becoming an all-consuming fire that threatened to turn all in your wake to ash. 

“Why marry me?” Your tone was harsh, firmer than you could remember speaking.

Thranduil let out a sigh, seemingly annoyed at your mere presence. Normally, his disregard made you shrink, and maybe it was the wine, but it only made you straighten your back, meeting his eyes through his reflection in your mirror. 

“To seal an alliance with your kingdom, you know this.” He was always condescending; he was so much older and wiser. 

“I understand political marriages, but why marry me? You’ve managed political alliances without offering your hand in marriage; you even have a son to marry off. So why--” You slowly stood from your chair, turning to face him directly. “-marry me?”

“Would you have preferred to marry Legolas?” 

“I’d prefer you answer my question. So I’ll ask once more: why marry me?” You strode towards him, eyes narrowed.

“To ensure an alliance with your family.”

“That is it? For no reason other than that.”

Thranduil looked down at you, his lips tight.

“Did you hope to hear differently?” He tilted his head, eyes ice cold and bitter. “Ours was a marriage of convenience, not love.”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing thickly. All of it for nothing, a marriage he knew would never succeed. He may have been content with a loveless life after the passing of his wife, but he knowingly dragged you into it. To turn your life into a void--

You wanted to scream, to yell obscenities at him, to spit all the vile venom his careless behavior filled you with. But it would do no good. An emotional breakdown wouldn’t mend your rift; there was no foundation of respect to rebuild. It was just endless nothingness. Standing at the precipice, you would simply fall into a never-ending pit. 

“I see.”

A hint of shock made his eyes widen a fraction, expecting an outburst like the one you fantasized about. Humans weren’t known for patience, yet it wasn’t patience that kept you silent. It was dejection; you'd given up hope of anything better than what you had.

You dared not move, not even blink until Thranduil turned towards the door.

“I think I will ensure the keep is secured. Goodnight.” 

Head turned, yet your eyes remained where he once stood; you remained silent. The door opened and quietly shut behind his retreating form. Only then did you exhale the breath you’d been holding. 

The bed was plush under your body, and the comforter was like a cloud, yet you’d never felt more miserable. You turned your back to the side Thranduil would take when he returned to the chambers. Eyes shut, soothed by the darkness, you dreamed of something more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Tags: @jmablurry | @lunatichaotiche | @aearonnin | @emiliessketches | @vibratingbones | @moony-artnstuff | @ranhanabi777 | @kenobiguacamole | @ceinelee | @thranduil | @samnblack | @abbiesthings | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit | @keijibum | @lifestylesleep | @themerriweathermage | @im-a-muggleborn | @sweetheart-syndrome | @boyruins | @AwkwardBecomesYou | @delyeceamaitare

[cherryheairt]

Idea by @itsaslaminak tysm 🩷

In His Arms

Summary- Cregan Stark comforting his wife through a thunderstorm

named! reader with no desc, made up house between Dorne and the Reach.

not proofread just wanted to get something out. I've been so swamped

When Lenora discovered her betrothal to Lord Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, she was confused first and foremost. Her, a firstborn daughter of House Keaton, a house that bordered between the Reach and Dorne, a dry and arid place. Northerners hardly married anyone who wasn't born and bred in the North, let alone married from a house allied with Dorne. Never in Westeros history has such a marriage been prospected, but a sudden need for alliance had sprung up one Winter.

The Starks were in need of livestock in stead of the harsh winter, and Martells were in need of supplies and ships. A pact was made for an annual trade to by conducted every early winter, for as long as relations were well between the two kingdoms. With the Martell Princesses all being married off already, Prince Qoren decided to send a vassel house's daughter instead. So, Lord Lent Keaton provided his eldest daughter to Lord Stark in a marriage and trade alliance, providing a generation of trust between the Dornish and Northerners.

It had taken months to travel North, with Lenora dreading every step that brought her closer to her mysterious bethrothed. Her parents and ladies in waiting could not join her on such a far journey, their services needed elsewhere during the time, so Lenora was left with only two of her maids and the guards protecting her carriage. The weather, too, was almost unbearable. By the time she had gotten there, the boats of livestock had long since reached the North to get the people through the harsh winter. Winter was long over by her arrival. Though, it hardly seemed that way given the powdery show falling over her hair and shoulders the moment she stepped from her box.

A welcome party was in Winterfell's square to greet the young Lady, consisting of Lord Stark, his sister, and a few of his trusted council members and bannermen.

It was easy to tell which one was Cregan. With a broad and tall figure, dusty brown hair that was half tied back, and a massive brown pelt held over his shoulders and clasped together with the signature Stark direwolf. A long face, straight nose, and fine lips turned into a straight line. As she got closer, she noticed steely grey eyes to match the longsword strapped to his shoulder. An intimidating sight, one quite unlike the friendly faces of Dornish men.

Was he unhappy with her? Burdened by the fact that he had to marry a Dornish girl in order for his people to thrive in the cold winters? Or was it simply the face of a hardened Northerner? Lenora had heard they were all miserable and serious, even with their own close families. Glancing at Sara Snow, she wasn't quite sure of that. The girl's pale face was set in a charming smile as she bounced on her feet as if to contain her excitement.

Lenora was glad to see a friendly face in such a cold place. Perhaps even if her husband was distant, she could still have a friend to keep her company.

Her eyes trailed back to Cregan, who stepped forward to meet her. Tilting his chin down slightly, he grabbed her hand to meet her knuckles in a kiss that seemed too delicate for a man like him. "I welcome you to Winterfell, Lady Lenora. I hope your travels were not too arduous."

Even his voice was rough, with that thick Northen accent she had only heard in King's Landings' tourneys. The stark difference between his accent and the usual one of her own kin made her stomach stir with warm nerves, the tone pleasing to her ears.

"It was no trouble at all, my Lord. Though, I dare say that the bite of the North was not at all as I expected. I half-thought the tales of the permanent snow where merely exaggerations."

He smiled, showing a softer part of him that Lenora hadn't expected to see. Truthfully, she was unsure if he could smile at first sight. She decided it fit him well, and hoped such an expression oft graced his comely features.

"You'll find Winterfell much different than the summerlands of House Keaton, my Lady. I will ensure that you can acclimate to our lands quickly. I've had some warm dresses and pelts commissioned for you over the winter, if they please you." He offered an arm to Lenora, which she took with a warmed face.

He glanced up and down briefly at the young lady, assesing her clothes discreetly. She had taken her warmest gowns for her travels, though even bundled up with many blankets in the box, she did not find much warmth. Hopefully, North-made attire would prove to be more useful. The dress she wore now exposed more than she had seen on other women at the passing inns and small Northern towns. In the heat of Dorne, modesty was not taken so prudishly as it was in other places. People were free to wear thin silks, laces, and cottons as well as strappy and more revealing necklines. Skirts were thin and flowy, as they should be for ease of walking and air flow.

When visiting King's Landing, her outfits earned her more than a couple of prolonged stares, either of judgment or unveiled lust. She took them all in stride, only strutting past any onlookers with a striking confidence; as any Dornish lady should uphold.

Now, she couldn't help but feel sheepish under Cregan's steel gaze. Did he think her silly for not preparing garments herself over the winter? Or perhaps unfit to serve as Lady of Winterfell with such improper attire. Sara had dressed like a true Stark, with a light blue dress lined with wolf pelt at the wrists and collar along with brown gloves to match. Even while showing off little of her figure and only her face, she still looked a picture of Northern beauty with blue eyes and contrasing dark black hair.

"Anything you provide, I am most grateful for, my Lord. I am not a difficult person to please." She mentioned, tilting her head up to meet his eyes as they walked into the Great Keep.

Inside, it was much warmer. Lenora felt the Keep's ancient. presence surround her like a safety blanket. It was a heavy feeling, much different from the open walls of her own family house.

As if noticing her relief, Cregan started, "Winterfell is built on a group of hot springs, keeping it warm throughout all the seasons. The water lines the walls," he nodded towards the stone walls surronding them. "To keep us warm. You will find it most comfortable in the Keep, but I hope that does not deter you from exploring Winterfell and Winter Town as you please."

Lenora nodded, taking the halls in and memorizing them as they walked. "I am excited to meet the people of Winter Town. I hope to settle in to my duties quicky." She said pointedly, glancing at Cregan to guage his reaction. Many lords in the Crownlands, Reach, and Stormlands did not care for their wives beyond just making heirs, and so they were often cast aside and did not have any duties to take care of. Lenora grew up with her mother and father both being busy constantly with their duties, sharing the burden as head of a great House.

Winterfell was an even greater House yet, one that Lenora hoped to be welcomed to by the commonfolk and leige lords alike. That started with being active in the communities, and an attentive Lady.

He nodded, "I will let you get adjusted to the North before anything else. After the wedding, and the honeymoon period, I will teach you the duties of a Stark Lady." Cregan promised her kindly.

Lenora was grateful for the immediate response, and found herself eager for this arrangement. 'A Stark Lady' ran through her mind many times as she settled into her temporary chambers. She liked the sound of it.

Many moon turns later, Lenora had turned her attentions almost fully to her duties. Organizing the Great Keep's staff, taking care of Winter Town's events and charities, and so on. She took to it naturally, with Cregan's help, and found the commonfolk of Winterfell had accepted their new Southern Wardeness with open hearts.

Cregan, too, shared that sentiment. Though the wedding was a beautiful affair, it was a bit tense given that the bride and groom were only just acquainted. The honeymoon weeks were spent purely in each other's company to get to know the other. Horseback rides in the mornings, hunts in the afternoons, settling down in their marital chambers in the evenings; all their days were spent in content and relaxation. At the end of their honeymoon, they finally felt comfortable enough to perform the bedding ceremony without the watchful eyes of any Lords or maesters.

Though Lenora had shown no signs of being with child yet, she was still content. Cregan showed no comtempt with the matter either, telling his wife that a child would come when it was time, should the Gods will it. She agreed quite happily, secretly enjoying having her Lord husband all to herself.

On night's like these, she was ever more grateful for it. After they finished their separate days, Lenora and Cregan settled into bed together. Lenora, in a baby blue night shift and Cregan, in only a loose pair of trousers.

Lenora had oft told Cregan how comforting it was to listen to his heartbeat as she fell asleep, so he took to sleeping without a tunic since their first days together. The chill was kept away by the many pelts on their bed and their own body heat combined.

With her head lying on his chest and his large hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly, she felt herself drifting from the light conversation.

"...not to worry too much about the solstace feast."

"Hm?" Lenora murmured, lifted her head to meet his eyes.

Cregan smiled knowingly, shaking his head. "Never mind, we can discuss that in the morrow. Go to sleep, my girl." He said quietly, kissing her hairline gently.

Unable to resist sleep's great temptation, she only hummed and placed her head back in its place. Thump, thump, thump, and she was asleep.

Lenora was woken by a thunderstrike. It crashed with a piecing 'bang!' and left her jerking awake.

The sound of pouring rain upon cobblestone roofs and glass windows surrounded her on all sides. Bright shots of lightning peeked in from the window in their chambers, followed by more thunderstrikes. Lenora flinched harshly, each strike sending a spike of fear into her heart.

She had rainstorms, of course. But none as ferocious as this one. Never such loud, nauseating thunder and bright lightning in her homeland. Duststorms were common back in her childhood homeland, something she could handle easily. This was a complete turn from that.

When another strike hit, sounding ever more close to Winterfell's keep, she clutched onto whatever her hand was rested on. Coincidentally, it was Cregan's forearm. He stirred then, lifting a hand to his eyes to rub at them tiredly. "What's wrong, my girl?" He murmured.

How had he slept through the noise? Was he so unconcerned with a flood happening, or the roof collapsing under the weight of so much water. Or fire, struck on the Wolfswood trees by stray thunder?

"The storm." She hissed worriedly. He sat up, moving his hand on top of hers and rubbing atop her knuckles soothingly.

"What of it?"

"I've never seen one so strong. Will the Keep not flood, or the woods catch fire? We should prepare—"

A deep chuckle came from beside her. At Lenora's confused and panicked look, Cregan shook his head and cleared his throat.

"'Tis Summer, wife. Monsoon season is upon us for some weeks, it happens every year. We are well prepared for anything that happens. Our roofs are slanted for rain to slide right down, our food is stored in sealed silos, and fires stand no chance of spreading with such heavy rain."

Lenora's heart slowed slightly, calmed at the thought of Winterfell being safeguarded by its years of tradition and preparation. Though, she was not completely calmed by his words alone. The pelting of drops hitting the roof and window still made her veins feel ice-cold, even with the hearth still running strong in their chambers.

Cregan reached out to grasp her face gently in his hands. "It will be like this for only a short time. We are safe in here, I promise you."

She nodded, clutching onto his large hand with one of her own as she leaned into his warm embrace. There, he held her firmly to his chest as he stroked her hair. Kissing the crown of her head, he spoke. "Shall I fetch more pelts? You are shivering, my heart."

Lenora shook her head, not wishing to part from his arms. "Just stay here with me, please."

"Of course." He obliged, succumbing to her whims as easily as the wind blew seeds from a dandelion. His wife came before all else, after all.

Slowly, he layed them both back down on the bed. Covering them up snug under the thick pelts of fur, Cregan rested his wife's head to his chest, covering her exposed ear with a cupped hand.

Wordlessly, he soothed her without needing to be asked. Never annoyed at her soft demeaner, he delighted in taking care of his beloved wife.

Comforted by his steady heartbeat instead of the thundering rain outside of the Keep, Lenora found herself drifting back into the welcoming and warm arms of sleep. Cregan stayed up all the while, ensuring his wife could not be disturbed again that night. He kept a hand held over her ear, adjusting to fit around her whenever she shifted in her sleep. His over arm lie firmly over her waist, rubbing circles at the small of her back distractingly.

Lenora did not wake again that night, oblivious to the raging storm outside. Every night after that, during the season of monsoons in Winterfell, Cregan was exceptionally careful that she rested throughout the night and was never scared again by the storms.

[luffington]

private party ♡

➤ summary: It's too goddamn hot out, so Doflamingo surrenders his strength to join you in the pool. (18+)

➤ pairing: donquixote doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.5k

➤ warnings: dom!doffy, pool sex, belly bulge, exhibitionism, getting caught, degradation, established relationship (kinda), fem reader

➤ notes: i am so normal about the doffy pool scene where baby 5 is introduced. i barely ever think about it i swear.... also this is my softest doffy fic and he's still SO unhinged >:3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Dressrosa’s famously perfect weather had been overtaken by a mid-summer heat wave, and today was brutal. The sweltering sun turned the air hazy with heat. Not a single cloud stained the bright blue sky to provide shade from its burning rays. Staying outside for more than ten minutes was a daunting task. Nearly every member of the Donquixote Family was staying cool inside the spacious castle with its doors closed and curtains drawn.

Fortunately, the palace courtyard was an oasis.

An oversized pink flamingo float bounced against the side of the oval-shaped pool as you swam laps straight down the middle, keeping most of your body underwater. The scent of sunscreen and chlorine filled the air. Your lover (for lack of a better word) reclined on a padded couch, sipping a yellowish-pink tropical cocktail decorated with a paper parasol. His signature pink coat had obviously been discarded, but so had every item of clothing besides a tiny pair of shorts. Tan lines had no place on his godly figure.

The king of Dressrosa unashamedly admired you as he sunbathed. Even behind his sunglasses, you felt his lusty gaze trained on the way your body moved – and your skimpy little crimson bikini. You intentionally put on a show for him, arching your back as you dove underwater and making sure your tiny bottoms were pulled a bit too tight against your ass. 

Both of you were completely alone. Doflamingo had even sent away the servants who periodically refilled his drink and brought out poolside snacks. You weren’t entirely sure why he chose to keep the pool after he became king – the only ones who really used it were you and the women who hung around Señor Pink. The Family’s Devil Fruit users safely stayed dry on the surrounding lounge chairs, and Dellinger hated chlorine. Doflamingo did love his pool parties, though.

Getting lonely and bored, you swam to the edge of the pool, emerging near Doflamingo’s feet and wiping water out of your eyes. The blonde placed your own drink on the ground in front of you. 

“You jealous?” You grinned cheekily, sipping the chilled liquid through a neon pink straw. “It must suck to not be able to swim, especially on a day like today. The water is soooo refreshing.”

Doflamingo chuckled at your boldness. “I’ll live.”

“I’ve never even seen you go in.” He was certainly good at keeping you company while you swam, though, and his flamingo float was ideal for cuddling (and less appropriate activities). “You won’t drown in a few feet of water.”

“Water takes away my powers, baby.”

“Boooo.” You splashed a small wave onto his hairy legs. “You can be without your strings for five minutes. Get in here.”

If anyone else did that to him, he would’ve forced them on their knees and made them beg for mercy. Luckily, he found your bratty playfulness more amusing than irritating. Certainly better than an overly passive, demure lover. And the pool did look nice, beautifully shimmering under the relentless sun. It was even more tempting now that cool droplets of water ran down his calves.  

To your surprise, your lover sighed exaggeratedly but actually stood from the couch, stripping down to his underwear and revealing his half-hard clothed bulge. As you excitedly went to grab a blow-up beach ball on the other side of the pool, you could’ve sworn you felt something tugging at the strap tying the bikini around your neck.

Doflamingo kept a cautious hand on the railing as he strolled down the pool steps, hissing in relief at the cold water. Strength be damned, this felt incredible. He kneeled down and reclined backwards to submerge his enormous body, though he kept his head above water, and soaked off the undignified layer of sticky sweat coating his skin. Thank fuck his throne birthright wasn’t on some desolate winter island. 

You trotted back over to him while tossing the ball in your hands. “Doffy, I think my top is coming undone. Can you fix it?” 

Innocently turning your back to him and holding your hair away from your neck. He grabbed the thin red strings pitifully slipping out of their knot, but instead of tying them, the blonde let them fall past your shoulders. Before you could react, his big hands forced their way under your bikini cups to openly grope your tits. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted, pet?” He giggled maniacally as he tugged at your nipples. Being on his knees evened out your height difference a bit, so he curled his giant body over yours, his hard abs pressed flush against your back. Kneading your breasts with no gentleness, squeezing them like stress balls. “Getting all wet for me? Teasing me with this pathetic excuse for a bathing suit?”

You bit your lip – he wasn’t wrong, but you did want to play volleyball with him first. The ball fell from your hands and sadly floated away. 

Doflamingo pulled off your top and carelessly tossed it aside. “This tiny thing leaves nothing to the imagination, it’s fucking disgusting. I want you to wear it every day.” He pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder then bit down as he harshly twisted your peaked nipples. “But just for me.”

“P-Please, Doffy…” You wiggled your hips, squirming against him.

“Needy slut.” Laughing giddily, he licked across your teeth then plunged the wet muscle into your mouth. Pineapple juice and expensive white rum lingered on his tongue. One hand cradled your jaw to keep your lips locked as the other trailed down your tummy underwater, slipping under the waistband of your bottoms. 

Doflamingo teasingly caressed your mound then harshly pinched your clit, then tugged at the sensitive nub. “That’s for splashing me earlier.”

“Shit, I’ll splash you again,” you chuckled, letting your head fall back against his shoulder.

“You’re such a damn masochist, making me get creative with my punishments.” You nearly folded in half when his long fingers ran through your slit, but his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright. His free hand went back to caressing your tits. The blonde giggled in delight when he felt the slick between your legs – you were so responsive, so easy. “This doesn’t feel like pool water. You’re all worked up from a little kiss?”

“You’re all worked up from watching me swim, pervert.” Grinding your ass against his massive bulge to emphasize your point.

The blonde slapped your tit and you jerked against his tight hold. “It’s a good thing your bratty mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock, since you’re starting to piss me off.”

Maybe your alcohol-induced cheekiness had reached its limit. Doflamingo’s infatuation with you made him no less terrifying. 

He wasn’t in the mood for long and drawn-out foreplay, though he normally adored seeing you break and beg for his cock with tears in your eyes. But your tiny cunt couldn’t even take his tip without loosening it up first. Being blessed with a perfect body, godlike height, and a monster cock was such a curse.

Resting his chin in the crook of your neck, the blonde observed the way his nimble fingers expertly moved inside you. His string abilities were gone but he still worked his puppeteering magic inside you, scissoring your wet walls apart and prodding at your sensitive spot. The adorably wanton whines falling from your lips made his dick twitch. 

Once he decided you were ready, he easily flipped you around to face him and sat down on the pool steps with you in his lap. Doflamingo freed his heavy cock, letting it spring up and bounce against his abdomen underwater. Instead of taking off your bikini bottoms, he simply pushed them to the side to expose your cunt.

“I’ve never fucked in a pool before,” the blonde chuckled, grabbing underneath your thighs and easily manhandling you into position. Even with his strength drained away, he was still much stronger than the average person – those sculpted muscles weren’t just for show. “You better feel grateful, darling. I hardly have any ‘first time’s left.”

The thick tip of his cock forced its way inside, then a harsh thrust made your eyes roll back into your head. Water resistance made the movement less intense than he intended, but several inches of his massive length were snugly inside your pussy. He continued pulling you down until a pretty bulge protruded from your stomach, though he still wasn’t fully sheathed in you. Doflamingo sighed in relief and reclined back on his forearms, submerged in the turquoise water up to his pecs. “Go on, please your king.”

You braced your palms right above his flashy gold nipple piercings, found your footing, then started riding his dick at a slow pace, feeling every vein and ridge drag against your inner walls. The water rippled and lightly splashed around you with every movement. 

Doflamingo traced the outline of your lips, and you batted your eyelashes coquettishly as you sucked his finger into your mouth. Definitely a mistake – you pulled away with a scrunched up face and tried to spit out the overpowering taste of chlorine. He cackled and shoved two digits all the way down your throat, twisting them around to hear you gag. 

The king was in paradise. Summer sun beating down on his face, cool water coating his tanned skin, and his favorite toy bouncing on his cock. He was getting bored with the slow grinding of your hips against his pelvis, but he was too relaxed to do anything about it. Getting out of the pool and back into the unbearable heat was the last thing on his mind. 

Doflamingo grabbed the meat of your ass to abruptly take over control of your movements. He bobbed you up and down, admiring the way your tits jiggled before leaning forward to suck a nipple into his mouth. Fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him closer, gripping tighter when he abused your tits even more.

He rubbed the outline of his cock in your stomach then pressed down on it. You bit back a debauched moan. An angry vein popped in his forehead before he grabbed your cheeks and squeezed meanly. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me.”

“S-sorry – mmmh!” You choked on your own spit when he suddenly slammed balls deep into you, his gigantic cock molding your insides to take him perfectly. 

The sound of a door opening echoed throughout the courtyard. You froze and anxiously sought out the source. Diamante emerged into the sunlight, his red eye makeup smudged by sweat and using his hand to fan himself. You leaned forward against Doflamingo to cover your breasts, not wanting to ignite his possessive nature, but made no other move. The blonde didn’t even flinch.

Diamante squinted in confusion. Sun-sparkled water blurred and distorted your lower halves, but what you were doing was incredibly obvious. “Doffy, why the hell are you in the pool?”

His boss was buried in your guts and that was what he was concerned about? 

Doflamingo grinned. “The water actually feels great. You should try it – oh, but not now. I’m a little busy.” The blonde jerked his hips harshly up into you, making you keen. Pink sunglass lenses stayed trained on his friend in an almost challenging way. “What do you want?”

The elite officer just huffed, making you believe that this probably wasn’t the first time he saw Doflamingo like this. An odd pang of jealousy struck you at the thought. He never caught you.

“It’s nothing serious, just find me when you’re done.” He snickered as he stepped back inside, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll keep Dellinger and Sugar away from here. Have fun.”

When the door slammed shut, Doflamingo pressed his lips to your ear and whispered, “I felt your pussy get tighter when he looked at us. You filthy whore. You like being watched? Or do you like being owned by me?” He sounded ecstatic. “I’ll fuck you on camera and broadcast it to the entire country if that makes you happy.”

A shiver ran down your spine. “That’s t-terrible.”

“No, it’s a fucking good idea. Then everyone’ll know who the prettiest girl in Dressrosa belongs to.” His surprisingly sweet comment was punctuated by his hips bucking into you, shoving the head of his cock insistently against your cervix. 

Doflamingo flexed his thighs and began using you like a fleshlight, setting a fast and rough pace while letting out incredibly erotic groans. His tanned skin looked irresistible, so you leaned forward to mouth along his thick neck and then kiss him passionately. Doflamingo eagerly reciprocated, rewarding you by pressing his thumb against your clit to rub circles against it. 

“My perfect little toy,” he panted between kisses, a long string of saliva hanging off the tip of his lengthy tongue. “Such a good girl, so eager to serve me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” 

Something about the intense heat or the negative effects of water seemed to bring out his more romantic side – though there was nothing romantic about the way his dick bullied its way inside you. You gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, feeling your cunt throb around him. 

“Doffy, ‘m so close, p-please let me…” 

Beautiful eyes peeked out from under his sunglasses – lust-blown, predatory, and crazed. “Cum for me, pet.”

Lips slammed against yours as the building pressure inside you exploded. Your cunt gushed and soaked his cock in your juices, stars flashing behind your eyes. Doflamingo obsessively swallowed your moans, rubbing your clit through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He rutted his hips like a feral dog before he felt his balls tighten. Thick ropes of cum sprayed deep inside your walls and filled you to the brim. Through hazy eyes, you noticed how divine he looked at his peak – damp blonde hair sticking to his forehead and sun reflecting off water droplets coating his skin. Head thrown back in bliss, plush lips parted and letting out a heavenly, whorish moan.

Breathless and giddy laughter snapped you out of your trance. “Whatcha looking at, baby?” His cock was softening, but you felt it twitch from narcissistic delight.

You shook your head to clear your mind, dipped your hands in the pool, then ran your damp fingers through his hair. He instantly relaxed into your touch, sighing contentedly. “I told you it’s refreshing.” 

“And you were fucking right. Maybe I should use the pool more – it’s not like anyone is stupid enough to attack me in my own palace.” Strong, scarred arms wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed you tightly against him. Doflamingo hummed happily, then released you and nodded towards the couch. A grin never left his face and his shaded eyes never left yours. “Be nice and grab our drinks, then get right back here. Our private pool party isn’t over.”

[sapphire-writes]

ceilings ~ modern!Aegon x Reader

summary: You and Aegon are friends, but there's always been something between you. This summer, it all comes to a breaking point.

warnings: 18+ (smut, fingering, oral fem receiving, p in v, kissing, semi-drunk s*x), drinking, partying, angst

word count: 4.8k

note: hi. uh oh. modern Egg angst. I hope you enjoy ❤️

masterlist

In a different world, you and Aegon Targaryen probably wouldn’t have been friends. You were different. He was reckless and careless; you were cautious and calculated. 

If it weren’t for a minor run-in with the law, your paths wouldn’t have crossed at all. Lucky for him, the Targaryen family has a lot of connections. So when Aegon, at the ripe age of 16 decided to rob a liquor store, he was issued a slap on the wrist and community service. 

Which led him straight to you.

Working with you, to be more specific. You had needed a summer job for some much-needed extra cash, and Aegon needed someone to sign off on his community service hours. 

All the staff were your age, and you’d quickly bonded with everyone. Rhaena became one of your closest friends, along with Aegon. You’re not sure how exactly you became friends; most likely he told some tasteless joke you’d scolded him for which in return caused him to say something even raunchier just so you’d keep paying attention to him. 

Aegon Targaryen was nothing if not a negative attention seeker. You’d fallen into that dynamic rather quickly, Aegon poking you, you poking back. It was gentle, playful even. 

In the middle of that summer, after a drunken night at Danny Greyjoys, you’d received a text from Aegon long after the party ended. You’d introduced him to your friend Sara who you brought along, and he’d appeared to hit it off with her. 

Give me Sara’s number, he’d sent, she’s super cute.

You’d rolled your eyes, watching more bubbles appear on the screen.

But also I’ve kind of been in love with you since the beginning of the summer, he wrote. 

Your heart stopped. The bubbles came back—then disappeared. Then came back.

He didn’t send anything else. 

You never talked about it.

In fact, you and Aegon moved on like he’d never sent it. 

It was always hard to say goodbye to him at the end of the summer. While Rhaena and Sara joined you at the local high school, Aegon joined his siblings across the country at Dragonstone Academy. 

But even after Aegon completed his community service, he kept coming back each summer. It wasn’t like he needed the money, his family was well off. He just liked the job, liked the company of his friends. 

Liked you.

You’d dated a few coworkers on and off throughout the years. Cregan Stark, Will Tyrell. But Aegon you’d always seen as a friend. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

Even when you’d accepted your college placements; Aegon at Citadel University, you at Winterfell State, you’d always return to King’s Landing in the summer months. 

You’d always come back to each other. 

Always teetering the line between friends and something else. Holding hands, cuddling, laughing, and joking, but nothing further. 

Just friends. 

Then, months into your junior year of college, Aegon’s dad died. You’d known he was sick for a while, a horrible slow deteriorating sort of death. But it still felt sudden. Like, the family had known he was going to die for so long, they almost forgot. 

He’d been different this summer. More distant. Drinking more. You knew he was grieving still, even if the relationship with his father was strained. Relationships are complicated. And that was still his dad. 

You’d sat in his car one night after work, just talking. He’d been tapping on the steering wheel with one hand, the other near his mouth as he worried the skin around his thumb with his teeth. A nervous habit. 

“You know, you and Hel are the only ones I can talk to,” he’d admitted, referring to you and his sister, “No one else…no one else really understands.”

You’d taken his hand in yours, sitting in comfortable silence as the engine purred and the sky grew darker. 

“I love you, Egg,” you’d told him, as you always did. 

“I love you too,” he said back, the words falling easily from his lips. 

Aegon was due to head back to Citadel University early the following week as summer came to its inevitable end. You’d all be parting ways soon enough, heading back to your college campuses for your final year of school. It was this fact that led Danny Greyjoy to insist on going out for drinks after work. A little hole-in-the-wall pub with darts and pool tables.

“We can go back to mine later,” Aegon had insisted, as you’d ordered another round of drinks, “Mum’s out of town on business.”

“Won’t Aemond mind?” Danny asked.

“He’s visiting his girlfriend,” Aegon insisted, “C’mon let’s get fucked up! Summer’s almost over.”

Danny agreed, shrugging and finishing his drink. Aegon had always been a bit of a party boy, but since the death of his father, you’d noticed an uptick in his recreational substance use. Alcohol; sometimes something harder. He’d shown up to work a few times violently hungover, or perhaps still intoxicated. You really couldn’t tell. 

You worried about him. 

You head to the bathroom to freshen up, fixing your mascara in the mirror when the bathroom door swings open and Aegon pushes inside. He’s got a cheeky grin on his face as he digs in his pocket, pressing his back against the door. You narrow your eyes, attempting to move past him but he blocks your path. 

“Stop it you weirdo,” you joke, laughing at his antics.

“Take this with me, c’mon,” Aegon teases, revealing two nips from his pocket.

“I fucking hate Mcgillicuddy,” you tell him, scrunching your nose at the clear bottle with its bright green label.

“Pussy,” he goads, smiling showing all his perfect teeth. 

Your heart skips a beat, as usual, and you snatch the bottle from him. You narrow your eyes as you crack the seal, before holding it between your teeth as you tilt your head back. The menthol-flavored liquor burns a path down your throat and a feeling of warmth blooms in your chest. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, taking his own and mimicking your movement. 

You cough slightly, watching his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows. He discards the empty bottle, reaching for yours. 

“You’re coming to the after-party, right?” he asks, his Cheshire grin still on his face. 

“I don’t know,” you tell him.

“C’mon,” he pleads, “It’s one of my last nights, I’ve barely spent any time with you.”

You smile slightly. Not a complete lie. Aegon spent the better half of the summer chasing Aliandra Martell like a lost puppy. They had a brief, passionate affair that fizzled out rather quickly as she returned to Sunspear the previous week. 

“And who’s fault is that?” you tease, “If you weren’t so preoccupied….”

Aegon lurches forward, grappling at your waist, tickling your side. You squeal, pulling yourself away from his grabbing hands, cheeks burning.  

“Fuck off,” he interrupts, looking at you with more intensity in his violet eyes, “Please come.”

Something in the air crackles between you. A new wave of energy.

“Alright,” you tell him, “For a little bit.”

“You bitch!” Rhaena screams, trampling you in a hug as you arrive at Aegon’s. 

She’s already had a few drinks; dirty Shirley Temples most likely. Rhaena has one hell of a sweet tooth. She smiles, her lips slightly tinged red from the grenadine. 

“I didn’t know you were coming, I thought you wanted to sleep,” she says, only slurring a few words. 

You hold onto her, giggling at her carefree state. Rhaena is usually so poised and collected. 

“Egg made me,” you tell her, “Where is the bastard?”

“Living room!” Rhaena giggles, “You look so cute!”

You glance down at your jeans shorts and the small black top you’d chosen. Going out top, Sara calls it. You’d gone home to change before heading over to the Targaryen-Hightower mansion. 

“Thanks, Rhae,” you tell her, as she places a sticky kiss on your cheek. 

Moving past some people, primarily acquaintances and other coworkers, you make your way into the living room. The music is blasting, people lounging on the couches and sitting on the floor playing some sort of drinking game. A table has been set up, and you spot Jace and Cregan engaged in a game of beer pong. Multicolored lights flash around the room bathing everyone in a kaleidoscope of colors. 

Aegon sits on the couch furthest across the room between two girls; a blonde and a brunette you don’t recognize. They’re curled into him, laughing at something he says. His eyes meet yours from across the room, lighting up as he recognizes you. You walk over, shaking your head at him. So broken up over Aliandra, it seems. You laugh, rolling your eyes before standing in front of him as he reaches for your hand.

He calls your name over the music as his fingers lace through yours. His eyes are red, you’d assumed he’d been drinking more since leaving the bar from the incoherence of his texts to you. Aegon was quite impatient as you went home to change, your phone dinging continuously from his texts. 

“You started without me?” you tease, and he tugs on your arm, pulling you closer. 

Aegon leans forward, pushing his back off of the couch. Your eyebrows cinch together as he pulls you closer, face nearing your own. Heart racing, realizing what is about to happen as your faces come closer; So close you’re able to count each of his silver lashes framing those violet eyes. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” you blurt out, seconds before he does. 

Aegon’s lips are soft and warm, his tongue parts your lips before dipping inside of your mouth. He tastes like vodka, like summer, like…

You pull away, and he lets go of your hand, falling back onto the couch, looking up at you through hooded eyes. The blonde next to him continues talking, as though nothing had happened. Aegon turns to her, smiling and continuing their conversation. 

You’re not breathing; he stole the air from your lungs. You turn on your heel, heading straight to the kitchen. A bottle of tequila is the first thing you see among other various bottles and cups on the counter. You grab the bottle, taking a long swig, not caring who’d drunk from it before you. Your heart is beating erratically against your ribs. 

Aegon just kissed you.

Aegon.

You take another swig before placing it on the counter. 

Holy shit. 

It’s the strangest feeling; like something that was meant to happen finally did. You’re stunned, standing stuck as Aegon enters the kitchen, moving by you and filling his cup with water from the sink. You march over to him as he turns on the faucet.

“Aegon,” you say to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yes,” he says, glancing at you, turning off the faucet.

“You just kissed me,” you tell him.

“Mhmm,” he agrees, placing his cup on the counter, fingers curling along the edge of the sink. He stares forward like he’s contemplating something. How is he not freaking out as much as you are?

“You just kissed….me,” you repeat, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning forward and kissing you again. 

His hand finds your waist, the other cradling your jaw as he deepens the kiss. You kiss him back this time, arching against him, tangling your fingers in his short silver hair. His tongue pushes past your lips and you sigh as it enters your mouth. 

This is Aegon. You’re kissing Aegon. Yet you don’t really want to stop, not when his lips feel so soft and warm molded against your own, his palm moving to your lower back and then over the swell of your ass. 

Then someone enters the kitchen and you pull away from each other quickly, as though someone physically pulled you both apart. It’s Sara and Cregan laughing about something. Cregan spots Aegon and clasps him on the shoulder before pulling him back toward the living room demanding he be his partner in beer pong. 

Sara notices your flushed face and blissed-out, shocked expression. You reach for the tequila bottle again, taking another swig letting it burn trying to get the taste of Aegon out of your mouth. Her eyes narrow suspiciously as she comes closer. 

“Whoa there,” Sara says, holding out her red solo cup, “You okay kid?”

Swallowing the mouthful of tequila you stick your tongue out at your friend.

“Aegon just kissed me.”

“Wait….what?” Sara asks, eyes wide. 

You place the bottle on the counter and remove Sara’s cup before taking both her hands in yours. 

“Aegon. Aegon just kissed me,” you repeat, staring deeply into her eyes. 

“Okay….well,” Sara shuffles from one foot to the other and you frown.

“Well, what?”

“Did you like it?”

Fuck.

“Like it? Sara, he’s like one of my best friends here,” you tell her through a forced chuckle. 

“Oh c’mon. You and Egg have had this tension for years. Like yeah, you’re friends but…friends don’t look at friends the way Aegon looks at you,” she says while reaching for her cup and taking a sip.

Your heart pounds as you think about it. All these years, the harmless flirting. The love confession. That weird feeling in the pit of your stomach every time he was with Ali. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell her, shaking your head. 

“Liar,” she calls you out, “And don’t think I don’t see how you look at him. The whole Ali thing this summer?”

“What?!”

“Girl, you were jealous,” she says, exasperated, “Jealous of her being with Egg.”

Okay, so maybe you had been a little jealous. 

“I mean…I don’t know,” you admit.

“Do not tell me you haven’t thought about it,” Sara tells you, “The boy’s been in love with you since we were sixteen.”

“Okay stop,” you tell her, face warming, “I don’t…I don’t know what to do…he’s going through it right now and he’s leaving soon. I just…I don’t think it’s the right time.”

Sara scrunches her nose, making a face. 

“Looks like Egg thinks it is,” she challenges.

You suck your lower lip between your teeth, unable to rid yourself of the feeling of his kiss. 

“Look, whatever happens,” Sara says, reaching out to touch your arm, “I think you should go for it. If that’s what you want.”

That’s always the question, isn’t it? 

What do you want?

There are no more surprise kisses as the night goes on. You play games, drink cheap liquor to get a little buzzed and laugh with your friends. You catch his eye briefly from across the room but nothing more. Helaena arrives at one point with her girlfriend Cerelle, blissfully stoned out of her mind and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek in greeting. 

People filter in and out as the night wears on. Rhaena is in no condition to drive home, and you hate driving home this late. You, Sara, Rhaena, and Cregan all decide to spend the night, fighting over which couch everyone will sleep on. Rhaena curls up on one with Sara, their legs intertwined. 

Cregan mumbles something about taking the floor, offering you the other. 

“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods, scratching the back of his neck, “You’re a gem.”

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbles, finding a spot on the floor.

You giggle softly, heading to the kitchen for more water. You hate hangovers and paced yourself rather well this evening, making sure to drink plenty of water between drinks. Your buzz is already fading as you fill your cup. 

You take a big sip, draining it halfway before filling it to the top again. You know you’ll be desperate for water in the morning and want to keep a full glass beside you. Plus, if Rhaena wakes up needing some you can offer her your cup. You shut the faucet, turning around and meeting the eyes of Aegon. Your heart skips a beat. You’d thought he’d gone to bed. 

“Hey,” you tell him, placing your cup on the counter, “Listen…Egg….”

He moves towards you, hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you in for a heated kiss. You kiss him back and it’s different this time. He tastes like water this time around, his movements less sloppy, more controlled. 

He’s sobered up, you realize as he moans against your mouth. 

Everyone’s gone home. Everyone’s asleep. It’s just you and him. 

He backs up, taking you with him, and dragging you down the hall. His hand laces through yours as he guides you into the hallway and into a room. His room.

The door shuts behind you and you keep kissing him, keep fisting the front of his shirt as he backs up knees hitting the bed and sitting down. 

You straddle his lap easily, as though you’d done it several times before. His hands move to your waist before dropping lower to palm your ass. You roll your hips against him as he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft flesh. 

Your hands loop around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. This is Aegon. You’re kissing Aegon. Reluctantly, you pull away from his greedy mouth as his hands fall to your jean shorts, unbuttoning them and pulling down your fly.

“Are you sure?” you breathe, nose pressed against his cheek. 

Aegon’s breathing is shallow, one hand still firmly on your ass as he kisses the corner of your mouth. 

“I’ve wanted this since forever,” he admits, sending butterflies fluttering in your belly. 

He waits, not moving his hand; not going any further but also not taking any steps back.

“Me too,” you whisper and he presses his lips to yours once more. 

The kiss is hungry, stoking a fire of need deep in your belly. Aegon’s hand brushes against your lower stomach and the muscles of your abdomen contract as he breaches the band of your underwear. Fingers dipping lower, he circles your clit already wet and sensitive from your heavy makeout.

“Seven hells,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you manage to squeak as Aegon sinks two fingers into your wet heat, curling them inside you.

He moves his fingers in and out at a torturously slow pace, the heel of his palm grazing against your clit with every thrust. 

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he comments, kissing you once more as you grind down against his hand. 

A whine slips past your lips as his lips move to caress your jaw, before kissing a hot trail down your neck. You can feel his smile against you as he speaks, “Shhh don’t wanna wake anyone, do we?”

He’s cruel with his comment, the pads of his fingers rubbing perfectly against your sweet spot sending sparks of pleasure down your legs all the way to your toes. Your eyes squeeze shut and you clench around his fingers causing him to chuckle.

“That feel good?” he asks, kissing right below your ear.

“Yes, feels s’good,” you mumble, fisting his hair harshly. Aegon groans as you ride his fingers, chasing the release building in your abdomen. 

Each curl of his fingers stokes a fire in your belly, and soon you’re trembling on top of him, falling apart as he silences your desperate cries with a kiss. Gently removing his fingers from your slick entrance he flips you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. He pulls your shorts and underwear off in one fluid motion, tossing them to a corner of the room.

“D’you have a condom?” you ask breathlessly as you yank your tank top over your head. You unclasp your bra as Aegon removes his shirt, his violet eyes hungrily eying your freed breasts. 

You rest back on your elbows as he watches you. “Egg?”

His eyes snap back up to yours before he grips underneath your thighs pulling you toward him, “Sorry, yes, fuck,” he says, kissing your inner thigh, “Have to taste you first, please.”

Your face is on fire but you nod at his pleading as he buries his face in between your thighs. Aegon licks a thick stripe up your drenched slit, swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. You throw your head back against the pillow as he continues to feast on you, alternating between dipping his tongue in your entrance and suckling on your clit. 

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you hiss through clenched teeth, “So fucking good Egg shit--” 

He moans against you, fingers digging into your thighs and soon your legs are shaking around his head, trapping him between your thighs as you come with a muffled cry. Aegon crawls back on top of you, kissing you fervently, the taste of you fresh on his tongue. You scratch down his back, pull him as close as you can to you. 

“Condom,” you gasp, feeling the hardness between his legs pressing as you through his jeans, “I need you--”

“Right here,” he says, leaning to his nightstand. He yanks the drawer open so hard, it crashes to the floor with a thud. You both freeze before descending into giggles.

“Shhh,” he cautions and you cover your mouth as your laughter continues, “Seven hells--” he reaches to the floor retrieving a condom. 

“Stop it,” he says with a smile, removing your hand to kiss you again.

“M’sorry,” you mumble, trying to hold in your laughter. 

Aegon slips his jeans down, followed quickly by his boxers freeing his long, hard cock. The tip is flushed pink, weeping precum as he lazily strokes himself. You wet your lips as he tears open the condom wrapper, rolling it down his generous length. Once he’s done, you’re quick to pull him back into a kiss, feeling his heavy cock slap against your inner thigh. 

“You’re sure?” you ask again, and Aegon nods.

“I’m sure,” he confirms, “Fuck, are…are you?”

“Yes,” you tell him, reaching to guide him toward your aching center, “Yes, I’m sure.”

He sinks inside your tight, waiting pussy and you gasp at the way he stretches you out. You’re so tight around him, it’s nearly painful for a moment as you adjust to his girth. 

“Fuck,” you hiss as he bottoms out, “Seven….”

“You okay?” he mumbles, placing a wet kiss on your neck.

“I’m good,” you confirm, fire blazing in your belly as he rolls his hips against you, stealing the breath from your lungs, “Gods…”

Aegon keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, you can feel his hot breath against your skin in between the kisses and love bites he adorns you with. Every rock of his hips winds the coil in your gut tighter and tighter until you feel as though you’re a bowstring about to snap. 

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he murmurs, “Want you to come again, baby, c’mon.”

Nails digging into his shoulders you’re thrown over the edge, the coil in your gut snapping as white-hot pleasure washes over you. Your pussy clenches, milking his cock for all its worth as you feel him twitch inside of you; Aegon moans as he reaches his own release. 

You hold onto him for a moment, letting yourself bask in the pleasure he’s given you, feeling the weight of him resting on top of you, his softening cock still buried within you. Slowly, the tingling sensation of your orgasm begins to ebb, the sheen of sweat that coats your body causes you to shiver as you grow cold. Aegon rolls off of you, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. He runs a hand through his hair, back still facing you. 

You sit up, watching him, suddenly feeling very exposed in your naked state. Aegon removes the condom, ties it, and throws it in the trash can beside his bed. Then he reaches for a pair of shorts. Heat blooms in your cheeks as you rise, searching for your clothes. 

Aegon doesn’t say anything, just watches you out of the corner of his eye. You grab your bra and shirt first, throwing them back on. Panic rises in your throat suddenly at what’s just happened. 

Oh gods.

You’ve ruined everything, haven’t you?

Why isn’t he saying anything? Aegon stands, running a hand through his hair.

“We’re okay, right?” you nervously ask as you slip your shorts and underwear back on, “This won’t change anything, right?”

You can’t read his expression. He gives you a wry grin before nodding. 

“Course not,” he says, grabbing your hand, “C’mere.”

He pulls you gently toward the bed. You curl up next to him, his arm underneath your head. He falls asleep first, you can hear his gentle snoring in your ear. You can’t sleep. You just stare up at the ceiling counting each inhale and exhale. 

“Aegon?” you whisper, turning your head.

He doesn’t answer, still lost in sleep, and you’re left staring at the ceiling once more. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Sara says the following morning. 

You’d gone with Rhaena and Sara for breakfast, leaving the others behind. You had gotten up, returning to the living room before everyone else woke up. Cregan was the only one awake, eyes narrowing as you lay on the couch. 

“Could’ve slept there,” he’d mumbled, before rolling over. 

Rhaena is slumped over her eggs, rubbing her temples as Sara excitedly shouts as you reveal what happened. 

“I’m serious,” you tell them.

“Was it good?” 

“Yeah, it was good,” you confirm.

“What does this mean?” Rhaena asks with a groan, “Fuck I think I’m gonna be sick..”

“I mean, I think I need to talk to him,” you admit, “About…this.”

“Well, I have to go back to the house anyway to pick up Cregan,” Sara says, lacing her fingers together, “Come with and you can talk to him.”

Nervous anticipation pools in your belly.

“Okay,” you tell her.

After dropping Rhaena at home, you and Sara head back to the Targaryen mansion. It’s quiet when you arrive, walking in the door like you both live there. Helaena and Cerelle are curled up on the couch watching a movie. 

“My brother still here?” Sara asks and Helaena raises her head from Cerelle’s lap.

“Mhmm, they’re in the pool,” she confirms, “Aegon tried to host a darty, not many people showed up yet though.”

“Of course he did,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Sara nods to you and you follow her to the back door. The Targaryen backyard is a prime party zone, with its waterfall pool, large stone patio, and massive green yard. You spot Cregan right away, tossing a cursing Aly Blackwood into the pool. 

Your eyes scan over the dozen people before your heart drops into your stomach. Aegon’s in the pool as well, silver hair slicked back, a lopsided smile on his face. That’s not what makes your heart lurch, rather it's who is attached to him. 

Cassandra Baratheon clad in a deep blue string bikini straddles his waist, playing with the sunglasses on his head. She takes them off, putting them on her own face before Aegon lifts her up, setting her on the edge of the pool. She giggles, hands on his shoulders before giving the sunglasses back. Aegon squeezes her thighs, no doubt leaving indentations of his fingers on her porcelain skin. 

“Oh fuck,” Sara whispers, “Y/N…”

“What?” you ask, tearing your gaze away, “What? No…no it's fine… that's nothing. I’m good.”

Sara’s eyes are sad, “Honey…”

“Seriously, Sara, I’m good,” you insist, chest tight with emotion, “I’m just going to grab a water…”

“Give me five minutes,” Sara tells you, “Let me tell Cregan I’m taking you home.”

You give her a wordless nod as she moves toward her brother. You walk past the pool over to a cooler, grabbing water. The sun suddenly feels uncomfortably warm, a dull throbbing beginning behind your eyes. 

Someone comes up next to you, reaching into the cooler. Aegon shakes his head, droplets of water flying this way and that. You stare at him, watching as he grabs a can of beer. He glances at you after cracking the can and taking a long sip. 

“What?” he says. It’s friendly but different. There’s a new edge underneath the question.

Nothing will change, right?

Your throat tightens and you can feel tears prickling behind your eyes. Aegon just stares back, running a hand through his damp hair.

“Nothing,” you tell him, “I was just leaving.”

“You should stay for the party,” he suggests casually. 

You gaze at him, searching his violet eyes for anything, anything at all. 

“I’m tired,” you admit, “I’ll see you later.”

Aegon watches you leave, Sara wrapping her arm around your shoulders. There’s a moment of pause as the door closes behind you, and then Aegon finishes his drink and returns to the pool.

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