#I FEEL LIKE hes not appreciated enough tbh

[aurumalatus]

𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 2.1k

genre/warnings. princess!reader, knight!kinich, slight enemies to lovers (not really, they just argue but idk the term for that tbh LOL), pixelprincess!au

summary.

ever since he became your personal guard, you've found kinich to be a royal pain in your ass. you've always assumed he felt the same, until the night of your matching ball. now, you're not sure what this burning in your chest means after all.

author's note. this is a drabble as part of a universe that i'm calling pixelprincess (knight!kinich x princess!reader). i don't really have a full fic planned for this or anything, i just have a bunch of small headcanons about them and i love aus so feel free to scream about them with me HAHA. thank you for reading! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

If there’s one thing you can definitively say about Kinich, it’s that he’s not stupid.

Honestly, you could say a lot of things. You’ve heard the rumors just like everyone else, about the fearsome Captain of the Guard who passed training within a single day. They whisper that he holds a dragon’s power in his heart, a fact that strikes fear into any nation that dares encroach upon your territory. His reputation precedes him, and he’s somewhat of a mystery to the general public—most of them envision him as a hero, the key to the nation’s defense.

If there’s another thing you can definitively say about Kinich, it’s that sometimes, you wish he was stupid.

The castle always feels larger during the summer, when the sunlight bathes the interior with gold and the halls bustle with movement during the day. Guards and aides rush in every direction, though none of them seem to spare a glance in your direction; there’s simply far too much to pay attention to today.

The maids are replacing the vases with fresh flora, Brilliant Chrysanthemums and Saurian Claw Succulents that make the room seem brighter, discussing which configuration looks the best. You know them all, of course; growing up within the castle meant that these women had practically raised you. Even as an adult, it’s hard to escape them when they feel like pinching your cheeks and reminiscing on old times.

Sensing the coast is clear, you crack the door open another millimeter, carefully slipping into the hall and blending in with the crowd. The maids, luckily, don’t notice, still fussing over petals and stems. You’d calculated this time exactly—right now, the guard patrol should be across the castle, checking the entrances before the ball tonight. If your information wasn’t wrong, then you should have just enough time to make it to the servants’ passages, and then out to the garden—

“Oh?”

The familiar voice makes you murmur some choice curse words under your breath. Of course, the dark-haired man in front of you is always several steps ahead of everyone. He’s leaning against the stone wall, looking entirely too pleased with himself, as if he knows something you don’t.

“Princess,” Kinich greets, bowing his head despite how you wave him off—you’ve never been one for formalities. “What are you doing here?”

“Just taking a walk.”

You move at a brisk pace past him, but Kinich is faster—he always is, the annoying bastard. Before you can turn the corner, there’s the blade of a greatsword blocking your path. No matter how much you see it, you’re always surprised by the size of the damn thing—you’re shocked he can even lift it as it is. A half-smirk rests on his lips when you gasp.

“Taking a walk away from your lessons? I do believe your teacher’s room is in the opposite direction.”

The annoying thing about Kinich is that he truly knows everything, including your schedules. He’s thorough to a near fault, though you suppose that that’s exactly the kind of person who would be fit for Captain of the Guard. Still, you duck under his sword, unwilling to make eye contact.

“Lessons are tomorrow. I have other plans today.”

Kinich falls into step beside you, and the halls are suddenly clear of people—the crowd parts before you, a stubborn rock among a rushing river. You’re unsure if it’s due to your status, or due to your temper—it’s a well-known fact in the castle that Kinich can get you wound up quite quickly.

“And what might these other plans be?” 

He always has too many damn questions, you think. Silently, you curse your father for assigning him to you. A series of attempts on your life last year had made him paranoid, and he’d been quick to promote the strongest knight as your personal guard. Back then, you’d been fooled just like everyone else into thinking that Kinich was some kind of serious, straight-laced hero. Instead, you’d since discovered that he was seriously annoying.

“Can I guess?” he asks, deftly dodging past the maids carrying bundles of tablecloths and the waiters carrying sky-high stacks of platters. 

“No, you can’t. In fact, you can’t even ask. I should have you executed for that.”

Kinich raises a brow, amused. “The Queen would never let that happen.”

And, unfortunately, he’s correct. Your mother absolutely adores Kinich as if he were her own son, and it irritates you to no end—especially when she heavy-handedly suggests that you make him your groom. The door to the back stairwell falls into view, so you break into a jog as you reach the end of the hall, but he’s right on your heel.

If I can just make it to the stairs…

Kinich steps in front of you again, not allowing you an inch further, and you nearly scream in frustration.

“If I didn’t know any better—”

You scoff. “And you, in fact, don’t know anything—”

“—I would say that you’re trying to avoid going to the ball.”

And, once again, you wish that just once Kinich would let something fly over his head.

Utterly defeated, you collapse into one of the plush chairs nearby, fanning your face. Kinich stands over you, a bit tense, as if he thinks you’re going to try to run again. You won’t; at this point, you’re too tired.

“So what if I am?” you finally admit. “You always complain about them anyway. I find it a little unfair that you’re allowed to and I’m not.”

As great as he is at his job as a guard, Kinich isn’t so great at facing the public, despite how popular he is among them (particularly the women). Whenever he can, he avoids social events like the plague, often volunteering to run perimeter duty as a precaution rather than attending with you. You, unfortunately, don’t have that luxury.

Kinich sighs, resting his weight on his sword. “I don’t complain, it’s just annoying when everyone is so loud and—”

You snap your fingers, interrupting and pointing at him accusingly. “You hear that? What you were just doing? That’s called complaining.”

Realizing he was caught in the act, Kinich rolls his eyes. “How very profound of you. If you put that much effort into your escape routes, maybe you would’ve made it this time.”

Your gaze narrows. “How about I stick a profound fist up your a—”

“Kinich? Is that you?”

The booming voice makes you both straighten up instantly. Kinich smoothly sheaths his sword, saluting to the king as he makes his way down the hall. You’re far less graceful about it, gathering up your skirts messily and quickly curtseying to your father. 

“Your Highness,” you both echo.

If your father notices the tension between the two of you, he doesn’t say so; he looks as jolly as always, even more so because of the event today. He’s the social type, a trait you unfortunately did not inherit.

“Just the two people I was hoping to see,” he laughs, a full-bodied sound that booms from his chest. “I’m glad that the two of you get along so well.”

To your irritation, Kinich smirks, while you offer your father a thin-lipped smile.

“Of course,” you lie, sneakily jabbing your guard in the ribs. He coughs. “We get along like a house on fire.”

“That’s good,” your father says, nodding encouragingly. “You’ll both do well later tonight then.”

Your heart drops at the thought of attending the event. You know how long your parents have been planning this, and how long they’ve been practically begging you to find a companion. It’s all a long-winded scheme to find you a princely partner, and not one that you particularly appreciate—a great majority of the princes you’ve met are far too full of themselves. You truly have no interest in any of them.

Kinich, however, pointedly clears his throat at your father’s wording.

“Both of us?” he asks, enunciating slowly. “I’m not sure I follow, sir.”

You perk up in interest—that detail had been lost on you.

“I invited several princes from neighboring nations today,” your father says, eyeing you with a pitying stare. You try not to feel offended. “I want my daughter to find someone suitable for her, no matter who that may be. Still, I was hoping you could attend with her this time? I know it’s not your favorite, but I would feel uncomfortable with her being around so many strangers alone.”

Kinich’s smirk falters, and he suddenly falls still. You wonder if he’s irritated by the prospect of attending the ball at your side. 

(Distantly, you wonder why the thought of that makes you feel a bit ill.)

The silence grows awkward, and you rock on your heels, searching for something to say. Your guard looks a bit lost for words, likely because he wasn’t prepared for so much social interaction today. You can’t really blame him—if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t be thrilled either.

“Actually, Your Highness, that won’t be necessary.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull at Kinich’s reply, but you hurry to control your expression, unwilling to give anything away to your father. The king raises a brow.

“And why is that?” he asks.

Kinich gnaws on his lip, an action that is wholly unlike him—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him appear nervous about anything in his life. Still, he meets your father’s gaze head on, coughs once, then says:

“The princess isn’t feeling well. I think it’d be best if she didn’t attend the ball today.”

He nudges your foot just as your father’s gaze drifts to you, and you thank your lucky stars that you did inherit your mother’s dramatics. You throw a hand over your forehead, fanning yourself aggressively.

“Since this morning,” you explain, looking as pitiful as possible, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Thank the archons Kinich was here, otherwise I might’ve fainted earlier.”

And you really do feel guilty when your father’s eyes well up with tears of worry.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he cries, then turns to one of his aides in a panic. “Call the doctor! Have him attend to her immediately. And announce that she’ll be absent from our festivities tonight.”

You force yourself to hide your smile at his announcement. Your eyes flicker over to Kinich, but for once, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit amused—in fact, he still looks troubled. Your father fusses over you for a bit longer, asking a series of questions about what you’d eaten and who you’d been in contact with. You answer as honestly as you can—the least you can do—and then he directs Kinich to escort you back to your room.

The hallway seems to empty out quickly after that display, and then it’s just you and your guard. For some reason, he seems to avoid your eyes. He doesn’t speak, merely offering you his arm, and after a moment, you take it. 

“So, what changed your mind?” you ask, unwilling to let him sit in silence. He looks displeased by your question, but answers anyway.

“Nothing,” he says, expression blank, “I just didn’t think you should go to the ball tonight.”

The tips of his ears are flushed red, you note. Liar. 

Still, Kinich keeps countless secrets that you’re sure you’ll never know, and you suppose it doesn’t really matter why he decided to let you off the hook tonight. Really, you’re just grateful you’ll get to sleep peacefully with no stinking princes breathing down your neck. The thought makes you smile as you finally reach your bedroom door.

“Well, what a shame it is,” you sigh sarcastically, turning the knob, “I could’ve been dancing the night away with the love of my life. Now I might never meet him.”

The corner of Kinich’s lip twitches.

“As if,” he replies gruffly, a touch too fast. “You wouldn’t like any of them anyway. They’re not nearly capable of handling you.”

Your eyes narrow, irritated by the implication. “And you are?”

He raises a brow in response. “Aren’t I?”

It comes out uncharacteristically soft. A switch seems to flip in the room, and you suddenly start feeling sick for real—it’s too hot, too quiet. Kinich’s stare weighs on you heavily, and you get lost in the depth of it. You freeze where you are, bedroom door half-open, and you can almost pick out the meaning in his words when he turns away, clearing his throat.

“Goodnight, princess,” he murmurs over his shoulder. “Sweet dreams, and…get well soon.”

He makes his exit without another word, and you wonder if he’s still working tonight. Is he still going to guard the ball? The perimeter? What if one of the other princesses takes a liking to him—

You huff, deciding you don’t care and slamming the door shut. The ball is bound to be a drag, and you find Kinich annoying, you think as you fall into bed. You’re happy about this arrangement. Overjoyed, even.

Yes, you find Kinich very annoying.

…Don’t you?

[wildtornado-o]

When men become Machines.

Finished that Ironwood sketch :)

Kofi

[bookholichany]

Everytime I rewatch this show I get more entranced by Charles's mini reactions and small facial movements that hint at his true feelings about every situation. And then we had episode four. And it all switched so accordingly afterwards. I mean Jayden !!!! Someone gives this boy an award or more...

[akkivee]

ok now I'm imagining kuukou hosting Hot Ones interviews with the rest of the hpmi cast

for reference, Hot Ones is a celebrity interview show where the guest has to answer questions while eating progressively hotter and hotter sauces on wings. It catches them off their gaurd a little bit and they respond more earnestly because their PR brain is off and all they can focus is on dying of spice and answering questions

Imagining him doing this to Jakurai in particular 🤣

KUUKOU WOULD HAVE A BLAST BEING THE HOT ONES HOST HE GETS TO EAT EXTREME FOOD AND LEARN ABOUT THE OTHERS WITHOUT SHARING SHIT ABOUT HIMSELF THATS HIS BRAND LOL

[krikidilly]

UGGGCCCKKKKKK I WANT TO DIG A HOLE AND BURY HIM IN IT,,

[rotisseries]

i don't read enough loz fic to know what the popular fanon is so maybe this already exists but there should be a revali and zelda besties agenda i think it would be good for them

[kuromi-hoemie]

fictional or not, dragon lore is always so interesting.

[todayisafridaynight]

Hii it's me the anon who started playing like a dragon to understand your comics!

I played for 12 hours straight today and i no longer feel emotions except hatred for the horrible battle system. It's so bad i hate it so much

I'm on chapter 10 now!

Ryo aoki is cute and i wish Nanba dies in a fire!!!

I'm going to sleep now!

[nirnruwut]

prepping to take my test to become a lvl 2 pharm tech AUGH

[sanemisstalker]

NSFW /// KNY characters who I think cum particularly hard/ a lot. This could have a part two, I'm eepy, srry.

CW/ Non specific gendered/genitalia reader / Cum... like an insane amount of cum / BDSM Dynamic (ENMU)/ Light Gore (ENMU)/ tbh, Enmu. / Cum-swapping (AKAZA)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

-Cums hards AND a lot.

-Sanemi isn't quite sure why is body is the way it is, maybe it's his breath control mixed with the insane amount of testosterone and panic pumping through his veins on the daily, but Sanemi doesn't struggle to get it up.

-he struggles to stay flaccid. He's far more likely to be hard at any given moment. Not that he's excited, his dick is just permanently stuck at half mast. It takes an insane, highly emotional amount to get him entirely flaccid.

-I think Sanemi's orgasm absolutely shreds him everytime, unanimously. Does that stop him from getting it up in another ten minutes? Absolutely not. I just truly think he's a medical anomaly.

-He cums prematurely, but what does it matter? It literally didn't go down, he's still fucking going, now he's just like, in tears about it.

-I think Sanemi's eyes get really wide and he gets lock jaw, and he seethes and he tries to hold back any noise, but it just shreds the poor guys throat, and now he's sore, and it hurts him to moan, but he just can't help it, you feel so fucking good- and all for him? It's all for him?

-Shakes. Sobs. Sounds incredibly desperate, don't let the facade fool you. If he loves you, he's a crier.

-Also physically cums a lot. Not just by how many orgasms, but by how much each time is. I think he's got an obnoxiously low set of balls. He's made to breed, the poor bastard. If he can't let go in you, both of you are covered in it by the end of the night.

-Sanemi has yet to tap out before you.

Kyōjurō Rengoku

-Cums a lot.

-Rengoku has good stamina, but once he cums, he's done for, no more. He can keep going if he really wants to, or if you look like you really need him, but chances are the first round wad more than enough.

-vocal, but in a fatherly way. Sex with Rengoku is probably very... comfortable.

-Until he cums and now you're sticky from your chest to your upper thigh. The range of his shot is insane. He cums buckets, and he barely blinks. His breathing gets a little ragged, and his chest a little shakey, but that's it.

-He needs to go night night after, though. Feeling any amount of joy that doesn't come from stuffing his face does a number on him emotionally and physically. He needs a cuddle and a conversation about... idk, taxes after.

-Won't beg to cum in you, but really, really wants to.

-He always pulls out like a gentleman (if you can be much of a gentleman when you're balls deep), but you can always tell that he wants to see your face so bad when he pumps you full.

-Will not ask. That'd be rude.

-Talks you through your orgasm, but that's another post for another day.

Enmu

-Fuck, I just know he's a screamer. He cums so hard.

-This guy's a fucking mess, but it takes work.

-Enmu is such a good submissive that you're always shocked when he decides to mouth off to you, or when he forgets a command. Not too shocked, though. It's very clearly intentional. It always is.

-He gives himself a bit in between each 'screw up' to make sure he's edged himself mentally properly (very hard, he's almost always some kind of aroused, and he's prone to cumming untouched, so that build up is a little diificult.)

-While he doesn't struggle to ask for things, and his dignity is subzero, Enmu still appreciates a stray chase here and there. After all, it's the only thing mentally stimulating enough for him to cum.

-In any normal dynamic with Enmu, he isn't often left using his dick. So when you've got a spear through his wrists, locking them behind his back, one hand pulling his hair, the other jerking his cock with thoughtless speed-

-Enmu can never cum harder than when he's recieving borderline abuse. His dick looks irritated, going untouched for months previous, and now it's receiving all this attention. Can you blame him for being this loud?

-His legs shake, his whole body recoils. He drools and screams- laughs and wails. He cries with the brightest smile you've ever seen. His hips buck up. You're not being gentle, and he's so, so happy. The orgasm is ripping through every nerve in his body.

-He feels like he's in the sun again.

-He's hoping Muzan can see him look so pathetic. You're just hoping the demon lord stays out of your man's head.

Akaza

-cums like a horse.

-a lover, truly. That's the only word encompassing enough to describe Akaza's efforts sexually. He's a fantastic lover.

-... who can go for hours... days even and never get tired. Every orgasm blows off his shoulders- It's all about you. It always has been, it always will be.

-You've made him cum hard before, it's a rarity, but it's possible... Its just nothing feels as good to him as watching you cum, so he'll do whatever must be done-

-and if that means pumping you full again and again, until you're leaking from every accessible orifice, so be it.

-He'll lick your hole clean, reveling in the way you twitch after your.... you lost count after the fifth one. That won't stop him from tongue fucking you.

-His cum tastes... shockingly good. You like to give him head, and then come up to give him a kiss. He'll pull your tongue down, wanting to see it in your mouth just before you swallow. You always look so proud of yourself. He can't help but reward you with a kiss before you even get it down.

-there's way to much for one swallow. You can barely manage to keep all of it in your mouth while showing him. Your effort is precious, though.

-Akaza looks really good with cum on his lips. It's one of the only times you see him really flustered.

[catcze]

⠀「 Giving them random kisses (part 2) 」 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Lyney, Kaveh, Alhaitham (separate) x GN! reader

「 ### : 」 fluff n romance ! Some heavy kissing, but tbh nothing that warrants much more of a warning. Kaveh's is... a little sad, but it ends well ♡

A long-overdue part two !! Listen guys pls pls pls dont let this flop i actually efforted on this one haksdj 💔

⠀「 WRIOTHESLEY 」

He's initially pretty surprised, but he recovers quickly and smoothly.

He hasn't had many people showering him with affection, so it's a bit of a learning curve with you being so sweet to him.

Does his best to reciprocate though! He doesn't want you feeling like he loves you any less.

He ends up liking the surprise kisses more than he could have ever thought ♡

"Hey Wrio," you murmur from where you sit on his lap. Your boyfriend is engrossed with the documents in his hand, though one arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.

Wriothesley doesn't look up when you call his name. His eyes are still trained on the fine print, though he does acknowledge you with the tilt of his head and a, "Hm?"

You take his momentary distraction to reach up and pull his face down so you can reach it and plant a small, sweet kiss on his cheek. It's delicate and chaste, just the press of your lips to his skin, as light as the landing of a butterfly, but from the corner of your eye you see the way his eyes widen and the telltale flush of his cheeks.

He gulps, his entire body turning warm under your touch.

"It's nothing," you say, one hand still cradling his cheek. The documents crinkle in his grip, and you smile. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you, is all."

Before you can even realize, Wriothesley is craning his neck and turning your head so that he can press a full kiss against your lips, heart racing as he steals your breath. The way he kisses you is frantic, rough. Like he can't get enough of you in the moment. Like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, and the only thing he can do about it is kiss you harder.

When you finally separate, you're both heaving for air, foreheads pressed together and breath mingling. Every one of his exhales tickles your lips, and under your palm, you can feel how his heart thumps in his chest.

Wriothesley's breath is ragged when he speaks; breathless like he's just ran a marathon. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you too," he whispers.

⠀「 NEUVILLETTE 」

He's been around humans for a long time. It's to be expected that he's had enough time to observe what humans in love do.

Specifically with kisses, Neuvillette has always been a little intrigued.

What is it that makes the meeting of lips so enjoyable for humans? Is it different from the act of holding hands? From the act of linking arms as you walk down a street together?

It's with you that he finally finds his answers.

"Neuvi!" you call, walking into his office. There's a beaming grin as you close the door behind you, bags of takeout food in your hands. "I've brought lunch!"

Neuvillette raises his head the moment he hears your voice, his lips curving in a soft smile. By the time you've approached, rounding his desk and giving him a kiss on the forehead in greeting, the Iudex has already put away his case files and has cleared a place for you on his desk.

You perch on it with ease, one of Neuvillette's hands coming up to push you up, and place the takeout bags beside you. "Hey," you tell him with a smile, looking down at him from where you sit.

"Hello." Neuvillette's eyes glitter from this angle, and the way he smiles so fondly at you makes him look nothing like the scary Iudex that some people think he is. If anything, with the way he looks at you, he just looks like any other man in love. One of his hands find yours, gently weaving his fingers between yours and caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "Thank you for bringing me lunch," he says. "You didn't have to."

"Mm, it's not for free, though!" You tell him with a grin, and one of his brows rise.

"Oh?"

"Mhm," you nod sagely, leaning forward so that your lips hover just above his. There's a smile on your face, and one of your hands goes to his shoulder to steady yourself. "I want a kiss for all my hard work."

"is that so," he muses, expression becoming just the slightest bit teasing. "Does the one you took upon arrival not meet your requirements, my dear?"

"That was nice, but I want a kiss kiss, Neuvi," you tell him, pouting just a bit.

Neuvillette chuckles under his breath, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck and pull you in closer. "That can be arranged," he murmurs, just before his lips meet yours.

⠀「 LYNEY 」

A relationship with him consists of so! many! kisses!

My guy acts like he's gonna fall ill if he doesn't have a kiss from you every so often.

Literally, he takes any excuse to kiss you that he can get!

And if you're the one initiating a little smooch? He'll be over the moon!

"If you're trying playing a magic trick on me, you're already cheating," Lyney laughs. He's seated on a chair in the the Hotel Bouffes d'ete, a silk handkerchief covering his eyes. One of his eyebrows are raised, and there's a joking quirk to his lips. Although he can't see it, you roll your eyes and tighten the blindfold.

"You're sure you can't see anything?" You ask when you think you've got it tight enough. You wave a hand in front of his face, and he doesn't even flinch.

"All I'm seeing now is my life if you were not in it, mon amour. Nothing but endless darkness." He's grinning while he says it, but you know he means every word, cheesy little shit that he is. You grumble the thought aloud, and he has the audacity to laugh.

You pull away, keeping one hand on his shoulder so he still knows you're there. "Alright smooth talker," you say. "Give me a number from one to ten."

"Ooh, a very intriguing question," Lyney hums. "I'll take the safe route... and go with five."

"Okay. Final answer?"

"Have I ever been one to take back my words, mon amour?"

You grumble again, and his grin widens. Your hands rise to cup his face, tilting it up for easier access. Lyney is lost for a second, lost on what you could have up your sleeve— then you press kisses to his face in rapid succession. One of his forehead, another two on each of his cheeks, one on his nose, and a last one on his lips. That one you drag out a little longer, feel his lips against yours with a familiarity that only you have ever known, before it ends too quickly. Five kisses, just as he's asked.

When you remove the blindfold, he stares at you, light flush high on his cheeks, lips tingling with the urge to kiss you more.

You grin. "Good enough of a magic trick for you?"

⠀「 KAVEH 」

For Kaveh, your kisses are nothing short of an oasis in the middle of the desert.

When he feels at his lowest, debt and impending deadlines creeping in on him, there's nothing that pulls him out of his headspace like affection from you.

If he feels like he's about to drown, you pull him out of the water.

For that reason, he welcomes every ounce of affection you can spare.

"Kaveh, it's late," you beckon him from under the sheets, a yawn crawling up your throat. "Come sleep. You can continue your work in the morning."

"Go first," he says, leaning over another set of schematics, hand pushed into his hair in frustration, a deep frown marring his face. "I'll join you once I finish this." His voice is distant, distracted, as if he's just spitting out preset lines in his head.

You've been saying that for hours now, you want to tell him. It's hard not to feel a little neglected when your boyfriend refuses to look at you for hours at a time— when he continues to run himself ragged despite all your best efforts at trying to make sure he doesn't break himself in his pursuit of perfection.

When Kaveh sighs once more, slamming his hands on his desk in frustration and groaning so loudly you're sure Alhaitham is cursing him out from his room, you slip out from under the sheets and walk over to him.

"Kaveh," you say again, a hand on his shoulder.

"What," he snaps at you before he can help it, teeth bared. When he sees how you flinch, hand threatening to pull away, he quickly looks down, staring at the sheets of paper with shame and regret. "I'm sorry," he says in a quiet voice, head hung and hands trembling. The fight and frustration drains out of his body, leaving him tired. Tired and feeling terrible.

You sigh— you don't blame him for the outburst. Archons knows he's been on the receiving side for a few of your own bad moods. That's just how some days can be, being graduates of the akademia. Gently you take hold of his cheek and guide him to look up at you, and when his eyes hesitantly meet yours, you smile a little sleepily.

"I forgive you," you say, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, moving down to his nose, and then ending on his lips. You can feel just the slightest curve of his smile as you kiss softly, feel the way his shoulders relax just a bit under your care.

"Come on. You need rest," you tell him, gently tugging him to his feet and leading him to the soft, warm bed. This time, he does not protest.

⠀「 ALHAITHAM 」

With him, it's a little difficult to randomly kiss him, because he's very rarely caught off guard.

He intercepts a lot of your attempts!

Whether it be side-stepping you to make you gasp in affront, or stealing your thunder and kissing you before you can kiss him— needless to say it's a challenge.

Good thing you always rise to challenges.

From the moment you enter the living room and perch yourself on the couch beside him, Alhaitham is squinting at you in suspicion. You just grin, not dissuaded by the sharp look in his eye.

"You're planning something," he say, snapping his book close.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "Who, me? Bold statement, mister grand sage."

"Acting grand sage. Non-permanent."

"Same thing," you dismiss with a wave of your hand. His stare only narrows further. "Now! I need to you do something for me, dearest love of mine. Give me your hands, would you?"

And although his nose wrinkles at the cheesy nickname, he complies, albeit a little hesitantly. One of the perks of him being your boyfriend, you suppose— lessened questions about any shenanigans you might pull.

When you're securely gripping his hands, weaving your fingers together and ensuring that he can't pull away (his brow furrows when he tries. He's getting more suspicious about what you're about to pull) you grin.

"Okay. Now close your eyes."

"I'd rather not," Alhaitham shuts you down immediately, and you frown.

"Please?"

"Tell me why, first."

"Just—! I pinky promise you'll like it. I super swear that you'll like it!"

And eventually he relents, eyes falling shut. You cheer internally, and before he can change his mind, you swoop forward to give him a kiss. The surprise of it catches him off-guard for once, and his hands clench yours, but just as you'd expected he doesn't try to pull away— if anything, he pushes back into the press of your lips, kissing you even harder than you kissed him.

When you separate, your face feels warm and your palms are undoubtedly sweaty, but he hasn't let you go for a second. Alhaitham swallows down a gulp of air, chest heaving just a little, and you feel the bubble of victory in your chest. "See? I told you you'd like it."

[midnightwriter21]

Hello :) please could I request headcanons of the hashira having a crush on a hashira!reader who’s very motherly to the younger demon slayers but shy and secretly craving affection from the other hashira 💙💙

demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 1

characters: fem!reader x giyuu, rengoku, tengen, shinobu, kamaboko squad (mentioned)

AN: some of these are platonic instead of romantic.

pt. 2 with mitsuri, obanai, sanemi, and muichiro is HERE

stop because i love this

you don't talk to the other hashira much

but its not because you don't like them!

they're just a little intimidating

and you want them to like you so bad

but what if you accidentally embarrass yourself in front of them

would be my biggest fear tbh

GIYUU

this guy is just as shy as you are

awkward asf too

but seeing as you're one of the few hashira that are kind to him..

he really likes you

also really appreciates the way you take care of the younger slayers

especially the Kamado siblings

i mean he did literally put his life on the line for those two

you guys don't talk much when in each others company

really its more of a dead silence lmao

like thats a surprise at all lol

but he enjoys being in your presence

he thinks you have a very calming aura around you

and he never feels any hostility from you

if you guys are paired up on a mission?

my guy is glued to u

no way is a demon going to hurt someone as pure and kindhearted as u

not on giyuu's watch

even tho he's goin to be protective of u during missions

he knows that despite your sweet nature, ur a hell of a fighter

respects you sm

thinks of you as his only true friend within the corps

RENGOKU

i can never get enough of him i swear

he absolutely adores you

goes out of his way to talk to you every chance he gets

ur all the way on the other side of the butterfly estate?

sunshine boy is hunting you down

ur on a mission a few miles away from his estate?

he's alrdy otw

also very oblivious

you get shy when he starts talking to you

maybe you start blushing

"oh are you sick? your face is all red. i hope you don't have a fever..."

and hes putting his hand on ur forehead to check ur temperature

if he touched me id faint

admires how you genuinely care for the younger slayers

the way you encourage them to get stronger

the way you help them train

the way you make sure they're eating and drinking enough

you remind him of his mother

TENGEN

when him & his wives finally have children..

ur designated babysitter 100%

being the sound hashira he has a great sense of hearing

so he hears your interactions with the younger slayers

you're not afraid to talk to the kids

you comfort them. laugh with them, scold them, etc.

wonders why you act so differently in the presence of the hashira

makes it his mission to make you comfortable around him

u don't have to worry abt affection when tengen is concerned lol

compliments you 24/7

"you look very flashy today!"

"you are a great teacher!"

"You should become my 4th wife!"

no bc that lmfao ^

SHINOBU

you two are very familiar with each other

it's very often that you're dragging inosuke or genya by the ear to the infirmary to be treated

mostly inosuke

so she is well aware of how motherly u can be

she's a regular witness to the many scoldings given out to the younger slayers

you also asked her to train you in basic first aid

your red face and stuttered words were so cute she acted like she couldn't understand you

just so you would repeat it

loves to tease you

nothing too bad!

and never mean!

just thinks you're so adorable

really appreciates when shes sent on missions and you help out in the infirmary

wants to be better friends with you

[sgojoenthusiast]

slow down for me.

✧.* choso x reader.

summary: i saw this tik tok about choso being able to stay hard forever and immediately started to write lmao. choso using his technique to stay hard so he can fuck you all night long<3

c/w: fem reader, kinda dom but mainly sub choso, riding, multiple rounds, overstimulation, choso’s blood manipulation, choking, hair pulling, alludes to m!recieving oral at the end, mating press position, choso whimpering *drools*, choso’s a menace tbh.

word count: 1.3k likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

“Shit, baby. Can you slow down for me?”

For the past two hours, Choso had been drilling into you and filling you up non-stop. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him, sucking him in like you needed him just as much as he needed you.

Choso couldn’t physically hold himself back. The minute he first entered you, he knew he’d have you in all sorts of positions before he stopped - even if it meant he was immensely overstimulated and in need of a pause. You didn’t think anything would stop him apart from the agreed upon safe word, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to wanting to stop either.

The minute he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim, he’d simply make himself hard again and continue to pound himself inside of you.

He was currently panting in your ear, and in contrast to the forceful and dominating thrusts, he couldn’t help back his whines from slipping past his lips. The noises falling into your ears made you tighten around him and bring your hands to tug on his hair in the exact way he likes it.

”C-can’t, feels, mmphh, so good-“

He had your legs over his shoulders as he pummeled into you, you could feel your mind slipping away as long as the ability to walk in the morning. Your legs were aching, yet there was nothing that could take your mind away from the mind blowing pleasure Choso was bringing you.

There was the familiar smell of sweat and sex in the air, the room was drowning in it. The air felt thick and you were consumed by the repetitive feeling of Choso hitting your sweet spot and the sound of skin slapping against skin - combined with his words and both of your moans.

You brought your hands around to caress his face, taking his cheeks in your hands and lifting his face so it was directly in front of yours.

His lips were pouted and his eyes were half-lidded with a hazed look swimming within them.

Pressing your lips to his, he let out a deep groan and as if spurred on just by your lips, his thrusts grew impossibly faster and harder. You let out a gasp, your hands reaching out for support as they grasped onto his back, nails scratching at the skin.

Your lips were parted and his head was resting against yours. Your breathing matched his as you took in every sound he made. Each whine went straight to your head and made it spin.

You could feel yourself reaching yet another orgasm as if he hadn’t pulled out enough to make you lose count already.

His hips were slowing down and losing their rhythm, indicating that he was also close to climaxing. You captured his lips in yours again, motivating him to keep going.

The two of you finished at the exact same time. Yet somehow, when you regained a stable state of mind, you could feel Choso twitching inside of you - still hard.

You were panting, still trying to regain feeling between your legs and yet he was already ready for another round. You looked at him with disbelief etched into your face yet he simply ignored it.

”One more time,” He kissed your jaw. “ Please just-“ Another kiss underneath your ear. “Just one more, I promise.” He sighed, kissing your cheek and then your neck and finally your lips.

You were exhausted, so close to your limit. But, when he begged you so nicely, how could you have said no? It would have been heartless to leave such a needy and desperate boy unsatisfied.

You pushed his chest away, causing him to flop beside you, before straddling his hips. His dick throbbed against your leg. It was hard and red, screaming to be touched yet also to be left alone.

Teasingly, you dragged your hands up his body causing Choso to close his eyes and sigh whilst also bucking his hands needily upwards.

You said his name in warning and he immediately stopped moving, yet that didn’t prevent his lips from forming a frown. It was cute though, and you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing it. However, it was never just one kiss. Choso brought his hand up to tangle into your hair as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

You kissed him back whilst also taking his dick into your hand and pressing it into the aching spot between your legs. Without putting it in, you rubbed the tip between your folds and smirked against his lips as he whimpered at the feeling.

The two of you moaned in sync when you slipped his dick inside of you once more.

Lazily, you started to grind up against him and move your hips up and down. The more you moved, the more you needed from him. As if sensing this, Choso snaked his hand to reach in the space between both of your bodies and rubbed his finger against your clit slowly.

You couldn’t help the way your hand reached up his body to grip his neck, and he couldn’t restrain the loud moan from falling between his swollen lips.

The two of you stayed like that, with you bouncing down on his cock with your hand wrapped tightly around his throat and his own hand playing with your pussy.

The feeling was messy, a combination of overwhelming pleasure and overstimulation. Your entire body was begging you to stop, yet your unreasonable and clouded mind saw no reason to.

Not when you peered down at Choso underneath you, who’s breathing was ragged yet there was a smile on his lips and a strange look in his almost-closed eyes.

You were so close to your limit, though, and were certain you’d have to stop soon.

However you knew that, even if you did stop, the next day all it would take would be for Choso to press his aching hard on against you for you to repeat this all over again.

You continued to ride him, your tits bouncing up and down and his other hand reaching to grab at one, pulling and twisting at your nipple.

You were so close. That same feeling from multiple times tonight arising once again where the knot in your stomach was stretching and ready to snap, and the combination of Choso’s hands and his dick hitting you over and over again was enough to send you over the edge.

Collapsing against him, Choso started to thrust upwards into you as you laid against him, taking it all whilst trying to calm down.

His voice was soft and quiet as he started to speak, telling you how good you were to him and how much he loves you.

He kissed the top of your head and thrusted relentlessly up into you, sputtering out quiet moans that you may not have heard had your ear not been next to his mouth.

Moments after your own orgasm, Choso’s followed. Once again, he shot his heavy load up inside of you whilst he whined and tears began forming in his eyes. His fucked you all throughout his orgasm, not stopping until he had given you everything he had.

When he finally stopped, you took a deep sigh of relief, prepared to get up and take a bath.

Yet you stopped in your tracks when you felt his dick, hard, pressing against you. You looked up at him, and smirked.

”Don’t w’nna get up. Can you clean me up with your mouth?”

Choso knew exactly how to get to you. He had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it too well. Just like you knew that it would end up being the death of you, both his seemingly innocent looking eyes peering up at you, begging you for just one more, and that stupid technique of his.

You looked at the man who had finished inside of you many times that night with wide eyes, before shaking your head and laughing to yourself. Of course, you also moved down his body, making sure to kiss every inch, and began to suck at his tip still leaking cum, because you loved him and it was so hard to say no too.

Truthfully, you should have known better than to believe that was the end.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

[mxcottonsocks]

finished watching the 2000 adaptation of Lady Audley's Secret... what have they done to my boy...

[daycourtofficial]

Come to Bed

Summary: based on this request - a text from Azriel was meant to go to you, but went to his entire family instead.

Author’s note: I loved this idea this was so fun and definitely very on brand for the inner circle tbh

Az: Come to bed :(

It was a short message. Azriel had been sick for two days now, and since meeting you, he can’t remember how he’d just go on during his sick days.

He used to go to work just fine while sick. He’d wear a mask and keep his distance, but he’d be able to go no problem.

But ever since you came into his life, now he was too spoiled when he was sick to go anywhere or do anything. You had insisted that your cuddles would heal him, along with the various soups you made him eat every day.

Honestly? It was a little awesome. If it weren’t for how shitty he felt, that is. You rubbed his back until he fell asleep, whenever he got up to shower you washed his sheets, and you brought him medicine every few hours. He didn’t have to lift a finger, and he was soaking in every moment of your attention.

But now you were downstairs, talking with Elain about something or another. You had told him what for before you left, but his feverish haze had made him forget. He woke up alone, having dozed off in your absence, and all he wanted was you to come back. He had just texted you to come back to bed when his door creak opens.

Azriel pops his head out of the nest he made to find Cassian crawling up his bed on top of the covers, wrapping his arms around Azriel, and spooning him over the covers.

Azriel coughs, “what are you doing here?”

“You asked for me to come to bed.”

Azriel’s head hurts trying to figure out what he means when his door opens once more to Rhysand strolling through the room, lying on Az’s other side.

“Ah, come on Azzy. It’s just like when we were younger,” Cassian tells him, his body heat helping with the chills taking over Azriel’s body.

Azriel sniffles, “we were like eight years old.”

“Well, Cassian hasn’t matured much since then,” Rhysand chimes in, staying on the bed but not too close to Az. He’ll provide some level of comfort with his presence, but he’ll be damned if he lets his brother get him sick.

“Why are you two here?” Azriel croaks, every word hurting his poor throat.

Rhys opens his phone to show him the family groupchat they had, the last message coming from Azriel saying, “Come to bed :(“

Azriel groans reading it, “I’m sure you could guess I sent it to the wrong person.”

Cassian chuckles, causing vibrations through Azriel’s back. He’s too weak to fight Cassian off of him, and the weight of him actually feels nice. Maybe Cassian would make a great weighted blanket after all.

“I never second guess any texts I receive. I assumed you missed me, it has been days since you’ve seen my glorious face.”

Cassian and Azriel continue bickering while Rhysand watches in amusement.

Mor comes in shortly after, bringing a warm cup of tea for both herself and Azriel, handing one mug to him while lounging across the foot of the bed. The tea soothes his throat, and he hates to admit it, but he does appreciate the presence of his family. He had been quarantined for days, trying to keep to his room as much as possible. He had grown quite accustomed to his big, invasive family. Your company was more than enough, but he did miss Cassian’s daily debriefs of his day.

Feyre comes in, taking residence next to Mor, as Cassian tells them all ridiculous versions of how he managed to destroy that building in the Summer Court. Each tale more ridiculous than the last, with Feyre even adding her own absurd version of events.

“I heard that a dragon flew in and Cassian fought it off with his bare hands and the only damage was that one building!”

Their laughter rings in Az’s ears as he closes his eyes, dozing, but not truly asleep.

You were shocked walking back to Az’s bedroom to find both of his brothers, Feyre, and Mor all lounging in bed with him. Azriel perks up at your figure in the doorway, somehow knowing you were there despite his resting state. His voice crackles from his sore throat, “save me?”

You walk in, squeezing yourself between Rhys and Azriel, and your boyfriend melts in your arms, falling asleep quickly as his family still chatters around you.

The next time Azriel wakes up, it’s dark outside, but he’s still cuddled to your chest.

“Hi sweetheart,” you tell him, setting your book down. He practically purrs at you running your hand through his hair.

“Sleep well?”

He presses his face back into your chest. “I would have slept better if they weren’t all annoying.”

You laugh, leaning over to kiss the crown of his head.

“Poor baby with a loving family,” you coo, and he huffs.

“They’re not loving, they’re annoying busybodies. Except Feyre. She hasn’t gotten that bad yet.”

You smile, untangling his hair with your fingers.

“They might be annoying busybodies, but they love you and you love them.”

He squeezes you a little tighter. “I’m sick. I only have so much love to give and it’s all going towards you.”

You laugh, your hand moving down to stroke his back. He relaxes in your embrace, your fingers soothing his clammy skin.

“Okay, you can wait until you’re feeling better to love them again.”

“Deal,” he tells you, eyes growing heavy once more. “Just - don’t tell Cassian. He’ll get upset.”

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [3] | Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: MDNI 18+!! smut, angst!!!!!!, unedited, infidelity, revenge cheating, oral (m receiving), kinda slightttt dub con if you squint w/ Aegon x reader, Aemond is frustrating, so is reader tbh, slight deviation from canon? again, if you squint, soft!aemond if you also squint. But also---angry Aemond (rahhhhhh), tell me if I've missed any warnings!

Author's note: my APOLOGIES on the wait, y'all. Hopefully this scratches an itch!! it's 11PM here, which is the earliest I've ever posted a fic funnily enough. I also reallyyyyy appreciate the love on this series so far!!! Love you all. As always, please don't hesitate to comment or to interact or hmu in my inbox w/ me bc I LOVE yapping with you guys. Send in feedback or criticism (but like I'll cry if it's super mean) or some headcannons!! or even your best dad joke. Anyways, xoxo kisses!!! <3

Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen was an intelligent man. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been acting as the realm’s largest imbecile. 

Time and time again, Aemond had let his ego and his pride run ahead of his brain, and had failed to think of the effect that his actions had on people other than himself. Sure, he cared for those who were important to him. His sister, his mother, his grandfather, Ser Cole, Aegon (although Aemond may not have realised it) and even to some extent his wife. 

He realised, perhaps too late, that you may as well be a stranger to him. And at one point, Aemond had truly believed that keeping whatever unlucky woman he was to wed at arms length would be for the best. 

The first time he met you was insignificant. It was as per tradition and formality. Aemond’s interactions up until the wedding was mainly with your family, despite the efforts you made to acquaint yourself with him properly. You were much more timid then, shyer than Aemond had expected from the to-be wife of a weaponised prince. But then again, he had only assumed that a Lady like his mother would have been chosen for him; confident, cunning and strong-headed. 

At the time he had begun to understand you better, Aemond had lost track of himself. A sort of descent into darkness where he went from a young prince to a man, eager to prove himself at whatever cost. Satisfied by the control he gained through fear, strength and reputation. Now that he had stopped to think about his marriage, after you had left him hard and desperate in his own bed, Aemond came to realise a few things. 

You were a purity among the wickedness and politics of the Red Keep. An inherently good person and a woman of grace, kindness and compassion. He had already noticed the dwindling of those traits brought on by your new life, confined to the walls of a fortress that was littered with deceit, distrust and gore. Aemond was a far darker entity than you–he had accepted this fact after the first true conversation you shared. 

Corrupting you was both tempting and terrifying. Aemond had always been loveless–deprived of the affection he craved and deserved but also clueless about how to give that affection. And while he wished he could learn how to right himself and how to quell the carelessness of his temperament and the destruction that was left in its wake, Aemond didn’t know how to. 

Perhaps it would come naturally. He was a lot more open to that notion now, despite the fact that most of him was convinced he was incapable of such change. 

Aemond regretted–something he didn’t feel often–how he had pushed you away. Even if he had not intended to. 

Because now, he was starting to see you as you were. A woman who had far more of an influence over his emotions than he realised–a woman who he had begun to crave the affections of in such an intensity that it only served to scare him away from you. At one stage, you had been another stranger among the walls of his home bound to him in nothing but title but, at some point throughout this ridiculous game that he had stupidly encouraged, Aemond had started to see you as his wife. 

The whore that he had let into his bed was not actually a whore. It was a woman Aemond had known–a witch whom he had shared the pleasures of his body with before the two of you had wed. Alys was always eager for him and once, he would have returned it with his own enthusiasm. Not anymore. She was simply an easier option. A whore would never sully the sanctity of his chambers. It wouldn’t have made a difference if he had been honest and told you that Alys was not from the Street of Silk. 

To anyone who came asking, including you, Aemond would first admit to taking a whore into his bed than a lowly witch.

He cursed himself for letting his honour fall so short that this is what it took for him to wake up. For him to have tainted his loyalty to you, to have let a woman whom he could barely get it up for shatter the confines of his marriage, for him to have been left unwound with a hard cock, his hand and only the scent of you on his thigh to release the tension that was driving him mad. 

Aemond wished he hadn’t been so short sighted. He would subject himself to whatever punishment he deserved should it be the burn of a whip against his back or the sickening ache of starvation if you were to demand it. 

All of a sudden, in the days that had passed since your encounter on his bed, Aemond found himself looking for you throughout his day. He hoped you’d cross each other in the halls, cursed the world for keeping him too busy to spend an afternoon with you in the gardens, sworn at the war that was raging for binding him to his duties and keeping you apart. 

So at the first opportunity he had to take time for himself and for the first time in your short marriage, Aemond had called upon you to join him for afternoon tea.You stared at the young servant who had been sent to retrieve you, half wondering if you had heard the boy incorrectly. Had he called you simply one moon ago, you would have dropped everything you were doing to meet your husband for tea with a grin and a skip in your step at the prospect of finally spending time with him on his own accord. 

But now? It both excited you and infuriated you. 

You gave the boy a soft smile, holding your reserve together when his face dropped at your refusal. “You may tell my husband that I am otherwise attended to for my tea.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had important plans for the afternoon with the other Targaryen son. 

The servant stood still for a moment. “Yes, my Lady.”

“The rest of my afternoon is already engaged with the King,” you purposefully added, a mixture of adrenaline and excitement beginning to simmer in your belly. “Tell him I will take tea with him another time.”

You were walking away from your chambers before the servant had turned to leave. A part of you felt bad for him. Anyone would be wary of delivering rejection to a prince. It felt as if you were sending him to his death in a way, knowing that the seemingly innocent excuse was balancing on a wire that was already frayed. If the young servant had known of your sly plan for revenge, he would have spoiled his breeches. 

There was a chance Aemond would catch on straight away. There was a chance that he would take a little longer. 

Either way, so long as he caught on, everything would unfold in your favor.

Aegon had been waiting for you, a mischievous smile on his lips at the sight of you eagerly rushing towards him. He was an immature and distracted King, and he was definitely not without his flaws, but he had never been bad to you. Sometimes, you even appreciated Aegon’s efforts to involve you in conversation or to pull a smile out of you when you had clearly been distressed. Nonetheless, he was still an infuriating cad and you had often considered giving in to violent urges at the way he treated Helaena. 

Helaena. 

A stab of guilt in your gut at the thought of her. Sure, she had confided in you on numerous occasions and you knew she felt little care for Aegon’s outwards ventures with women but you knew she was saddened by the state of her marriage. And here you were, as wretched as the whore that Aemond had bedded. It was no different; you were doing the same thing as her. Only it wasn’t your job; you weren’t doing it for the money. 

The satisfaction of bringing Aemond down to the same level he had brought you to was all the motivation you needed. It would be treading a thin line but it would be worth it. 

“I had wondered how long it would take you to find yourself in my chambers, Princess,” Aegon’s voice held that boyish shrill he had never grown out of. The way he had stepped aside to let you pass, eyes holding yours through his lashes as he dipped his head with a grin. “For a cup of tea, of course.”

Comparing Aegon’s chambers to Aemond’s was instinctual. It was brighter here, messier and there was an unkempt feel to the furniture despite the servant’s having kept things relatively put together. A King’s chambers, it was; grand and large and adorned with all sorts of artistry. Aemond’s chambers had held a darker tone; presumably because Aemond was sensitive to light on his blind eye and somehow even the glow of light from the lamps were deeper and warmer. 

You liked Aemond’s chambers better. 

“It has been overdue, Your Grace,” you weren’t sure of that. “Thank you for indulging me this afternoon. I wager a King such as yourself is no short of duties to tend to.” 

Aegon scoffed, pouring himself a cup of wine as he watched you take a seat at the small settee from the corner of his eye. “My family seems to be taking care of my duties on my behalf. I am a king in nought but title, you see.”

There was nothing you could say at his unbridled honesty. Aegon was different to most of the people who presided here in that way. He cared little to hide behind a facade of false indifference and stoicism. 

He fell to the cushion beside you, close enough so you could smell the drink he balanced in his hand. Aegon laid back lazily, resting on his elbows and watching you as you sat pin-straight and brought the piping tea to your lips. “‘Tis not a concern. I would much prefer to have more comely company than those clueless cunts who sit on my counsel.”

“I do not doubt that, Your Grace,” you coughed lightly, growing alarmingly aware of the fact that you hadn’t thought about how this was going to play out. There was absolutely nothing that you knew about seducing a king. No less, a king with Aegon’s track record. “I beli-”

“You have been different,” He cut you off. Swiftly pushing himself up so that his face was beside yours, breath tickling the strands of your hair that had fallen loose across your cheek. Aegon’s lips were gently turned up as his eyes traced every curve of your face. 

Swallowing thickly, you will yourself to meet his eye with confidence. The curiosity in his familiar violet eyes was paired with an immature lust and you wondered if he had any idea how easy it could be to use his forward thinking cock against him were you a woman of cunning ambitions. You didn’t miss how his gaze flickered across your throat and towards the curve of your chest. 

But something in the way that Aegon looked at you in that moment, like you were a woman of such beauty that he would risk whatever consequences were sent his way just to feel your touch sent a slither of saddened longing across your chest. Not even your husband had made you feel as if you were so captivating. 

It made the knowledge of how ever long you’d be alone with him far easier to stomach.

“I do not know of what you mean, Your Grace.”

Aegon laughed, bringing his face so close to yours that the point of his nose touched against your cheek. His hand fell to rest flat just above your belly, brazenly close to where your dress tucked underneath the curve of your breasts. 

“I know well when a Lady is not…” he dragged his nose across your soft skin, eyes carefully watching your reaction. “Sufficiently satisfied by her husband.”

Your breath hitched at how quickly Aegon had set his target. “If you mean to-”

“Does my dear brother forego his duties for the comfort of whores, perhaps?”

Pursing your lips, you gently turned your face so that your lips were centimetres away from his, Aegon’s fringe brushing across your forehead. There was a ringing in your ears, a nervousness about how you were so close to betraying your husband and how you were unsure that you could handle the fallout of what was definitely about to happen. Things are much different for women; infidelity and adultery would be grounds for far worse than simply an annulment. This world was not so kind to a lady who partakes in the same treachery as a lord.

Above all, you were conflicted.

“It seems my husband is no different to any other man who does not hunger for his wife.”

“I hunger for his wife,” Aegon all but moaned at the way your lips nudged closer to his. He cocked his head to the side and pressed his fingers into your flesh. “But I am no fool, my Lady. Aemond has always been the sole object of your gaze. You are here for more sinister reasons, I suspect.”

You blinked. Why did these Targaryen princes so often seem to be one step ahead?

It was a relief that he had not moved away from your closeness. In fact, Aegon leaned further into it. His smile never faltered and he waited patiently for you, watching as you thought of your next moves. There was a flush of embarrassment that prettied your skin and it was clear that your facade was close to crumbling. Aegon was not a man you desired in such a way. Merely a means to an end. 

So you sighed, resigning to the fact that being honest with Aegon would be best. 

“You are right,” you muttered. He shook with a silent laugh at your bravery and the way your chin remained turned up. “I-I believe you are aware of my intentions, Your Grace. Will you have me dragged back to Prince Aemond’s feet or will you allow my scheme?”

Aegon was in front of you in a matter of seconds, bending down so that he met your height as you stayed seated. “I would risk meeting the wrath of a man whose temperament and pride are unchained.”

“Teach me how to make it worth it then, my King,” you held strong in forcing the tremble out of your voice. You didn’t want to bed him entirely–absolutely not. Just what you had seen through the gap in Aemond’s door would be more than enough and there was a bubbling gratification in your stomach knowing that Aemond would not be able handle what he had so easily served out. 

His hand held the back of your neck and he jerked forward to catch your lips, grunting when you turned your head from him. You couldn’t kiss him. You weren’t interested in kissing him–only fulfilling the steady thrum of excitement at the need to both experience what you had been teased with and show your husband that he should be sorry. 

In fact, and you were loathsome to even rationalise it, you felt sick at the thought of kissing him. And you felt a little drop in your gut at the thought of taking him in any kind of way but it was different. Less frightening than kissing a man you were trying so hard to convince yourself was sexy enough.

There was no man for your body’s desires aside from Aemond Targaryen-–

A deep breath and you looked at Aegon through your lashes, bringing your fingers to feel the softness of his lips. “I do not want you to fuck me, Your Grace. But show me how I may give you pleasure with my mouth. And how a man can satisfy me with his.”

Aegon became excited at your use of such foul language, his hand remaining behind your neck as he straightened and guided you roughly to his hips, groaning as your hands instinctively found his thighs and moved upwards. He was painfully hard in his breeches–he had been since the first moment you looked at him with that stubborn intent and purpose. 

There was a strong urge to push him away but you fought through it. 

“I am sure your husband is already searching for his brazen little vixen,” Aegon watched as you breathed heavily, your chest heaving and your soft breasts pressing against the tightly laced corset of your dress. “And I am sure you wish for him to find us. Very cunning of you, I must say.” 

His touch didn’t pull that feeling from you. The feeling of Aemond’s touch that had made you feel as if you were floating in lava and drowning in a molten heat that could only be quelled by him. But it made your blood rush down, growing sensitive between your thighs at the prospect of pleasuring a man who openly lusted for you and had no care for hiding it. 

Aegon didn’t care for games that shattered your self-worth. He didn’t care to make you feel lesser than a whore for your curiosity of how it felt to have a man tremble from your mouth. All he wanted was to feed his appetite for you–the beautiful Lady who he had envied his brother for having to himself.

“I want to learn how to do it,” you whispered, melting into Aegon’s guidance as he hastily fiddled with the embellishments on his tunic to undo half of it and push the velvet fabric out of the way. The laced belt at his waist was discarded in seconds and you took little time to pull him out of the confines of his breeches. “So I can–so I can show him.”

There was a certain light headed nervousness that you felt when you realised that you don’t actually know how to do what you wished to. It seemed easy enough when you watched how that woman had given Aemond her mouth but now that you were faced with trying it out yourself, you worried how you would fare. Aegon triggered a natural response from you, one that you had learned was instinctual of human bodies, but you just could not find him desirable. 

Momentarily, you doubted you could find it in you to disregard your aversion to the King. An aversion that suddenly became more pressing an issue than it was merely seconds ago.

Aegon must have noticed your apprehension because he guided you forward, the hardened length of his cock brushing against your face. He was breathing heavily when he spoke. “Lick it. Use your tongue first and then-fuck, that’s right-” you hesitantly followed his instructions, dragging the tip of your tongue across the sides of him, gentle flicks down to the base and then a long stripe up to the top. It was an invigorating thrill when you felt him throb against your mouth. His hips jerked when you hesitantly wrapped your lips around him. 

It was slightly uncomfortable but it was not a bad feeling. Aegon tasted musky and salty, and a little bit sweaty. You took a moment to find the best way to stop your teeth from grazing against him and started to move along him, watching as he threw his head back, eyes shut tightly. 

The image of your husband stayed ingrained in your head. Would Aemond taste the same? Would he feel the same on your tongue? Would his cock react to you in such a way? Would you enjoy taking him in your mouth more than whatever this was?

Shamefully or not, you let yourself pretend that Aegon was not the man standing above you. That it was Aemond instead, enjoying what you were keen to give him and praising you for being so eager to taste him. 

You wished so hard that it was Aemond instead, that for a moment, when you gazed upwards it was him looking down at you with his hair falling perfectly and his eyepatch discarded. Alas, it was King Aegon, who revelled in staring at you with an amusement coupled with bliss that only felt belittling. 

It did set your body into a light rush of arousal but you couldn’t stop the doubts that flooded your mind. Were you dishonouring the sanctity of your body out of spite? Were you betraying the man you almost loved just to have a jab at him? Guilty tickles grew in your ribcage but you distracted yourself from it, focusing on the way that Aegon steered your movements. 

“Shit,” he hissed. Aegon’s hand found the back of your head and he adjusted your pace how he preferred. “Use your hand. What doesn’t fit–hold it.”

It became slightly easier once you found your rhythm, following each instruction that Aegon gave, drinking in the way his thigh trembled under your hand that rested against it, holding yourself stable as you hollowed your cheeks. Whatever you did, it almost came naturally and Aegon seemed to be enjoying it far more than you had expected. 

But it quickly became too much–Aegon started thrusting in a way that didn’t match your movements and you gagged, eyes burning at the ache of him hitting the top of your throat. You made a noise, pulling off and gasping for air, whining as he tugged your mouth back to him and chuckling. Lungs burning, you tried to meet whatever pace Aegon was moving at in an attempt to make things more comfortable. 

You reminded yourself of why you were here. The image of Aemond, head thrown back and groans slipping past his lips as he let that woman take him in his mouth. The image of Aemond, head buried between her legs, the skin on his chin glistening as he smirked at you while pleasure another woman. 

The feeling when your courtly acquaintances who you once thought of as friends would slyly belittle you for failing to give your husband an heir, belittling you because word of his infidelity had reached their gossiping mouths, belittling you because the Prince who they loathed you for having was hardly yours after all. The looks that they had given you, the way that they snickered and sneered at your failures as his wife. Whispers you had overheard from Lords alike; that for such a pretty thing, you must have been dreadfully dull in the ways of pleasure if Prince Aemond of all men had resorted to whores. 

That was how they all saw you; a failure. Because it was never a man’s fault but always his wife’s. 

You loathe to think that Aemond harboured the same thoughts. But you would show him how mistaken he was and make him feel what you had felt so that he would regret it all. 

“Fuck-” Aegon let out a drawn out groan as he pushed your head down, pushing himself as far down your throat as he could. You struggled to breath and you gagged twice but let him move you as he pleased, a satisfactory moan vibrating against his sensitive skin when he threw his head back and grumbled about spilling himself down your throat. 

It was a chaotic moment. 

The protest of the kingsguard through the wall and the bang of the door slamming open and you didn’t even need to turn and look. Aemond was seething, barely given the chance to put the pieces together before Aegon simultaneously groaned and laughed, the salty taste of his seed gliding past a sensitive part of your throat and pulling another gag from you as you yanked yourself away from Aegon. 

Everything seemed to pause for a moment. And despite the obnoxious laughter coming from the King as he tucked himself back into his breeches, the heavy breathing of your husband and your gasps for air, everything felt silent. 

Your blood ran hot at the way Aemond looked between you and Aegon. Nonetheless you met his eye, holding your chin up and wiping a bead of Aegon’s peak from your lip. 

It felt good. Watching as Aemond forced himself back into his stoic resolve; only bothering to subdue the way his eye filled with the same betrayal you still felt in your gut at the thought of the whore who had been on her knees for him in an almost identical way. 

Stoicism and slow, simmering, silent rage. 

The air around you turned hot enough to light a candle. Aemond’s presence alone had proven to be enough to send you spiralling from the heat he encased you in whenever he was in the same room but this? You were choking, sick to your stomach and doing your best to keep your knees from buckling at his intensity. 

Aemond heard Aegon ramble out some hideous insult, watched how you frowned at him and heard the echoes of his cackle. But the ringing in his ears overwhelmed it all and he had no clue what his brother had taunted him with before his fist met Aegon’s cheek with a loud crack.

He didn’t bother sparing his brother a second glance. Aemond was stood in front of you and despite his obvious anger, he pulled you up from where you were seated with a gentleness which had your mind reeling. 

There was a threat hidden in his voice. “Come with me. Now.”

Perhaps you had made a mistake. The gentle fury in Aemond was terrifying and even though you knew he would never raise a hand at you the way he thoughtlessly did at Aegon, there were so many ways that a Prince could ruin you. 

You felt a pit of regret now that it was over and the curtain of lust had lifted. It was easy to see how simple it is to get lost in the touch of another but it was easier to see how simple it is to avoid it. 

There was satisfaction. And you felt it simultaneously with the adrenaline of being caught and the doubts of your actions. Princes and Princesses and Kings and Queens were so unaware of their hypocrisy until it was spat back into their faces. 

Aemond would never in a million years have understood what he was doing to you if you had just been a submissive little wife and forgiven him. But now? Now he would know. And now things would be balanced and your desire to hurt him as he had done you has been fulfilled. And now you could see how this marriage would really stand against such tests.

And now, you may finally know whether Aemond truly did not care for you. Because if Aemond did not care for you–or even in part; love you–then he would not be hurt and he would not be feeling such betrayal.

Right now, as Aemond silently walked you towards his chambers, hands fisted, jaw clenched tightly and his gaze fixed ahead, you were fearful of how things would fare. As strong as you wished for your resolve to stay, Aemond’s disappointment was showing you a new weakness. And his words, you knew, if they were used as weapons then you would stand little chance against them. There was a heavy weight against your lower back where his hand sat, pushing you gently so that you glided through the halls faster. 

It wasn’t a long journey back to Aemond’s quarters. But it felt like hours to the Prince, the nausea in his gut silencing him the entire way. He felt like a child again, presented with a pig instead of a dragon, the shrill laughs of his cousins and his brother striking him with flashes of humiliation. 

Again and again and again, Aegon would do whatever he could to see Aemond crumble. Aegon would always take Aemond’s dignity, his honour, his crown. And now he just had to take his wife? 

Aemond shut the doors to his chambers roughly and you were quick to put some distance between the two of you. There was a hollow ball of guilt and fear that caught in your throat but you couldn’t deny the elation at the mixture of emotions in Aemond’s eye as he turned to face you. 

It was a reflection of how you had felt upon finding Aemond in bed with another. He would finally understand. 

Only Aemond was worlds away from the damned arousal you had felt and instead it was replaced with a youthful dread, a panic that you had never seen from him before now. 

There was hardly a moment for you to register the harshness of Aemond’s grip on your bicep as he pulled you toward the bowl that was kept by his bath, filled with clean water and accompanied by a tray of freshening oils. He lightly shoved you toward it as he let you go, unfazed by the sound of shock that you could not hold back. 

“Wash your mouth,” he spat. Although your back was to him, you could feel how he suppressed the extent of his rage as he was ever so good at doing. “And then we will talk.”

You bit your tongue and did as he said, wincing at the ice in his words and the angry strain of his voice. There was a lot that you wanted to say, to scream at him. He was angry–and to some extent he had every right to be–but how could Aemond have expected you to be okay with something that he clearly could not take on the chin?

But the way he had held you, the tone of his voice and the harshness in his glare had you wondering if revenge was worth whatever comes next. Because, amongst the whirlwind of fear and guilt and regret was gratification and fulfilment. 

The prickle of Aemond’s glare had disappeared before you were ready to dry your mouth with a towel. Quiet as ever, he had snuck away and by the time you had realised, the sound of the door shutting and the click of the lock had notified you of his absence. 

Aemond had locked you in. When you had swiftly tried to push the doors open, unaware of where you would go and truthfully not intending to leave in the first place, it didn’t budge. And when you called for the kingsguard who stood at the other side of the door, you went unanswered aside from a curt reply that he had been ordered not to let you leave. 

So you had resigned yourself to sitting atop Aemond’s bed rather than the seating arrangements scattered around the rest of the quarters. It smelled strongly of lavender, leather and Aemond’s very own scent–the one that always had you on the verge of drooling. But it only sent your nerves into overdrive, afraid that the consequences of your vengefulness, no matter how satisfying it was initially, may be too dire to recover from. 

The thought of whatever Aemond had planned for Aegon was not nice. You were correct in assuming that your tryst with Aegon would only cut your husband deeper because it was Aegon. The depth of whatever issues these brothers shared was far beyond you but you had only assumed that all second born princes would be affected in such a way. And Targaryen’s were full of complexities, each believing that they were better than everyone. Even their own siblings. 

Aegon had known that his younger brother would become nothing short of murderous. But he had never been a man to avoid even the slightest of temptations. Both the idea of indulging in you and inflaming the ever unresponsive Aemond were far more than slightly tempting. It would be worth the bloodied nose, the split lip and the sick that he’d spewed over his shoes when Aemond had returned to grace him with an inhumanly strong hit to his balls. Somehow, Aemond had made that act of violence seem like child’s play with the threats that he had rained down upon Aegon. 

King Aegon, who simply did not know when to keep his mouth shut and had all but asked for it with the way he taunted Aemond with a sentence he never had the chance to complete. “Seeing as you cannot satisfy even your own wife-”

He wasn’t there long. Aemond’s angry mind was racing and he couldn’t think past the red of his rage. But Aemond still knew better than to stay where he would surely commit a treason he would regret. 

Whatever fury Aemond had unleashed upon Aegon in the short time he was away had seemed to calm him down. He was still clearly angry when he stepped back into his quarters but there was a far less frightening storm brewing in his eye. 

At his return, you had stood from the bed. The air was sucked right out of the room when Aemond stood right in front of you, so close that you could count the creases in the leather of his eyepatch. There was a tense silence in which he stared at you, waiting for you to fold but you only held your head high and met his gaze stubbornly. 

Minutes had passed before Aemond spoke. His voice was far softer than you had expected and he seemed to have settled down a bit as he dragged his knuckles across your cheek, only to grip your chin so that you could not look away from him. Aemond held you tightly but not tight enough that it hurt.

“Enough of this,” It was an order, stern and unrelenting. “No more. This was a step too far-”

You scoffed in his face. “A step too far? Had you not done the same thing?”

Aemond had never in his life apologised for anything. He never felt sorry. And he never wished to admit to his mistakes. But here he was, face to face with the effects of one of the biggest mistakes he had made. If there were anything he could have done aside from apologise, he would have done it. But it was the only thing that would ease the mess of guilt that had arisen inside of him. For what he had done with the whore and for everything he hadn’t done for your marriage. 

“It was a mistake. If I could undo it, I would,” I’m sorry. “This was childish of you. Vengefulness is unbecoming.”

There was a beastly disgust that Aemond felt when he thought of another man even looking at you. The image of Aegon’s cock in your mouth, his seed leaking from your lips made him want to burn the entire realm to ashes. Aemond’s eye trailed along your jaw, to your neck and then down past your stomach. Did Aegon touch you where only he was to touch you?

Fuck treason. Aemond would feed Aegon to Vhagar if he had indulged in your body. 

“It is more than vengeance. You would not have understood what I felt. How I suffered because of you and your whore,” you tried your best to keep your voice stable. The lump in your throat and the tears that blurred your vision forced you to pull out of Aemond’s grip and turn your back to him. “You promised me you would never do that. You dishonoured me. You insulted me. You hurt me–Aemond, do you have any idea the things that they say about me?”

Aemond frowned and you could not see how he reached for you, only to drop his hand back to his side. “I–”

“That I am a failure. That I am-that I am so repulsive and so dull that you cannot even lay with me to produce an heir,” you couldn’t help the sob that escaped you. “And I saw what she was doing to you, what you were doing to her. I could never even have imagined the existence of such an act that had given you so much pleasure-”

“There was no true pleasure with her.” Aemond mumbled. Pathetically. 

Pathetic was exactly the word. Aemond may have been good with a sword, in a fight, with his dragon and when strategizing wars. But he was a pathetic husband–a pathetic partner, a pathetic lover. And he had the urge to take out his good eye for being so mindless and so ignorant. 

Hindsight was his worst enemy, it seemed. Because in hindsight, Aemond would have done everything differently, right from the moment you were introduced to him.

“Lie. It was clear, Aemond. They are all right, are they not?” You felt him step into you, his warm chest against your back. Leather and lavender and him. “I have failed. My womb is still empty. The last time you visited my bed was moons ago. I know you do not love me, my Prince, but I have love for you. Men are not the only ones who need intimacies of the body–I needed that and you have never given me anything. Yet you gave it to her. I wished to hurt you as you had hurt me.”

There were no words that Aemond could find. So he settled for shaking his head and watching you as you sat yourself down on the edge of his bed, staring down at your hands on your lap. You were so wrong in your perception of him but he couldn’t find the words to explain that. But Aemond decided in that moment that he would show you, one way or another. He hesitated before sitting beside you. 

You couldn’t meet his eye if you tried. It was as if your body was telling you to stop talking, that these thoughts were too painful to share, feelings too abstract and tender to put into words. 

“It is wretched, I know–to have turned to Aegon,” you felt him tense beside you and against your better judgement, you placed a hand on his thigh in an attempt to give him some comfort. “I wished to hurt you but I also wished to learn. I thought maybe if I knew how to-how to do things that would make you feel good so that maybe you would feel for me as I have for you. Aegon said he could show me. It is ridiculous, I understand that now.”

Aemond took your hand in his, the heat of your skin against his was fierce for such an insignificant action. He hated that it was easier for you to turn to Aegon than it was to turn to him. “I could have shown you. I can show you so much more. If only we had been honest with each other from the beginning.”

“I thought you do not want me.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. It would be less painful to drive his own dagger through his heart. “I crave for you, my love. I was just too stubborn to admit it and too afraid of what it means. And I did not know how to show you how badly I burn for you.”

The sight of tears had never fazed him until they were yours. Aemond was not particularly pious, he prayed simply because his mother had raised him to pray, but he would be on his knees every hour of every day if it meant that he could take these feelings away from you. If it meant that he could take it all back and start over. 

“I am sorry. No more of this,” you said. “No more seeking out the touch of anyone else in place of each other.”

“I will be a better husband,” Aemond stated, as if he were telling it to himself as much as he was to you. “I will try for our marriage and our duty. And for you.”

“Your promises haven’t proven to mean much to me. All is not forgiven just because we have talked,” You sighed, but gave him a weak smile, turning to look at him. 

He gazed down at you with determination, his jaw tight and his eye glistening with tears that wouldn’t fall. There was no attempt to push you away when you reached up to take off the leather that covered his bad eye. You wanted to see him as he was, even if only for a moment.

Gods, he was beautiful. 

As you stood you forced your smile to turn lighthearted as you teased him through your heavy hearts. “Jealousy motivates you well, my Prince. I shall remember that.”

Aemond hummed, mostly serious as his hands tightly grabbed your hips. “Do not jest like that. I will not be able to look at Aegon without dreaming of murdering him for defiling you how only I should. I cannot afford such treasonous fantasies.”

There was a silent threat in his words. Nonetheless, you leaned down to his ear, gasping gently at the harshness of his fingers squeezing the flesh of your hips. Just his hands on your body alone set you alight. 

“Perhaps my husband should leave the door to his bedchambers open tonight,” you let out a small laugh at the way that he pulled you to straddle his lap so suddenly, gently nipping the skin of his earlobe. You weren’t quite done messing with him. 

“Is that so?” He smiled and you thought that it made him all the more beautiful. 

“Yes,” you smirked, when he groaned frustratedly at your next words, softly throwing you onto the bed. “I may wish to show you exactly what I have learned.”