#I was so interested in the new dragon from the beginning

[peachssodapop]

Zelda...

I have been utterly inconsolable since I finished the Dragon's Tears questline

[fluffypotatey]

Since I very sincerely doubt Uther managed to kill ALL the Dragonlords (they're knights, not the KGB, and it was a lot easier to disappear back then) imagine them returning to Albion from Rome or whatever to find Cousin Balinor's only son is ruling Camelot and the Druids, is best friends with an immortal knight and one dude that's been raised from the fucking dead, is bonded to THEE oldest dragon they've ever heard of (and who is also nuttier than squirrel stew) and a semi-feral hatchling that barely listens to four (4) people max and hisses/bites/claws at the rest, and oh yeah, is married to a fucking Pendragon.

Family dinners must be a hoot and a half.

oh to be a fly on the wall when they finally make an audience in Camelot. oh to see Merlin's face morph from apprehension to wonder to exhaustion to horror because they're telling Arthur everything they know.

[neptuneiris]

detachment (01/03)

letting go and accepting what we can't change. detaching from the choices of others.

pairing: prince!aemond × niece!reader

summary: aemond not only breaks your heart after so many love promises, he also breaks his betrothal to you without any justification and announces his betrothal to a baratheon girl. now you will be married soon too.

word count: 7.9k

next part • series masterlist

Those had been his words before you left King's Landing and after you returned for an indefinite time due to the condition of your grandsire, King Viserys.

hello! i'm very happy to be back with a new story. new characters and new plot, now with our prince aemond🥰

comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you so much for reading, you are all awesome❣

"I love you."

But he had really felt them?

Did Aemond Targaryen truly loved you?

For a time, both expressed their love and devotion for each other, proclaiming kisses, caresses and titles that they wanted to seal permanently with a Valyrian wedding.

The affection began as children. You were never mean to your uncle compared to your siblings and his older brother, Aegon. And fortunately Aemond always appreciated the good treatment he received from you.

And that good treatment led the two of you to start spending a lot of time together. By sharing a taste for literature, having interesting conversations about the history of your ancestors or even learning High Valyrian, you both formed a fondness and affection for each other.

There was never any objection from your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, about a friendship between her only daughter and her half-brother, the product of her father's second wife and once best friend.

Nevertheless, Alicent Hightower did have a problem.

When she began to notice her second son's affection for Princess Rhaenyra's daughter, she had to forbid him to spend time with you with more than strict measures and supervision.

"Mother said I must not spend time with you. She said that our duties are different and that I cannot learn embroidery with you and you cannot learn to use a sword with me."

He had told you once when the two of them met in the library sneaking around in the middle of the night with a sorrowful look and a sad tone of voice.

"My mother has never told me I can't spend time with you, Aemond. She has never forbidden me."

You had told him with such disappointment as you understood that the two of you could no longer spend time together and that all those readings together could no longer be possible, neither could High Valyrian lessons despite the fact that neither of you have a dragon yet.

"I know, Y/N."

And he had told you that with such resignation that tears began to form in your eyes.

"Then… we can't be friends anymore?"

And even though Aemond Targaryen at his young age has always been faithful to his mother in everything she told him, the most respectful and obedient, simply the polite and perfect son, seeing your tears and your sad face, at that moment he decided not to obey.

"I'm never going to let that happen. We'll still spend time together, I promise. But we'll have to be very careful."

He had told you to then take you in his arms, hugging you. A hug that you reciprocated instantly, making you feel better knowing that their friendship would continue.

And he keeps his word.

You begin to have secret meetings in the library, the kitchens or in the gardens, both being very careful not to be discovered.

The lessons of High Valyrian continued, also the readings of stories about Old Valyria, the reign of Aegon the Conqueror or the First Men.

Sometimes you would steal bread or cakes from the kitchens, then hide in the library or in the innermost corridors of the Keep where you knew you could not be found.

Everything was perfect. Two innocent children enjoying a friendship and at the same time preparing for their respective duties to the realm.

Until one day, your mother decided to leave with her whole family to Dragonstone.

It was a very hard blow for Aemond and you because you had never been separated before. Your mother had never even considered leaving King's Landing as she was the Heir to the Throne and very much aware that she must remain at Court.

But Alicent Hightower had been more astute and by her behavior managed to dispossess the princess of her own home. And there is no alternative for you and Aemond to exchange letters and keep in touch as much as possible.

Once you arrived at Dragonstone, letters between the two of you were never lacking in that short period of time between your departure from King's Landing and then Aemond's accident at Driftmark.

Aunt Laena Velaryon had died and despite it being an unfortunate event, you were happy to see Aemond again and he too longed to feel close to you again.

However, the Gods are cruel and the accident marked Aemond's life forever, as well as the rivalry between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra.

And although Lucerys is your brother, Aemond, even in his state of hatred, never resented you for his lost eye, nor the clear rivalry between your mother and his.

On the contrary, the relationship between you was strengthened because you did not want to separate after such a fatal accident that made you cry while you hugged him tightly, thinking that maybe you could have lost him.

So the letters continued, some exchanges of gifts as well and even some secret visits that you allowed yourselves to have on the backs of your dragons to meet in a midpoint.

Or rather on a small island in Blackwater Bay.

Aemond had managed to claim Vhagar, the largest dragon in all the world and the one that once had Visenya Targaryen as a rider, while you claimed Silverwing, the dragon of the good queen Alyssane Targaryen.

Until King Viserys' health began to deteriorate in a serious and worrisome way, so your mother decided to return for an indefinite time to the Red Keep.

And the moment you and Aemond were reunited, that bond between the two of you only grew stronger, so everything formed the word courtship and it was no secret to your families.

It was no secret despite the clear rivalry between the Targaryens and the Hightowers and even more so with Alicent Hightower against the clear affection between his son and Y/N Velaryon.

But everyone knew that you are not a true Velaryon.

A bastard.

That's what you are in the eyes of the Hightower. And no matter that your hair was platinum like the Targaryen's, you were not the daughter of Laenor Velaryon, but probably of Daemon Targaryen.

Queen Alicent knows the depravity of Princess Rhaenyra and there was no other explanation for it, considering also that your brothers are bastards, but of Harwin Strong.

And Queen Alicent felt that spite and hatred for Princess Rhaenyra being so brazen and giving birth to children not legitimate. And the same thoughts she shared with her father, her children and Larys Strong.

However, Aemond didn't want to hear anything she told him about you.

He understood that his mother was angry with his half-sister, but that didn't mean she would have to turn him against you as well for something they had nothing to do with.

Bastard or not… you were always a good person to him. And all Aemond wanted, as well as you too, was to be together. It didn't matter that your brother was the boy who took his eye, that was a separate point for him.

And when you were ten and eight while Aemond was ten and nine, the talks and planning for a marriage began.

Marriage that was not approved by Alicent and Otto Hightower, but Aemond didn't care. He had already let too much time pass without making a move.

And that was dangerous considering that you are a princess of the realm and many lords had already asked for your hand. And because of your age, you had to make a decision now.

But you had already chosen him, in fact since you were a little girl. And now he had already done something about it by asking for your hand.

And finally you could both call each other husband and wife, what you always wanted.

Your father, Daemon, didn't agree to the marriage, Jace didn't either. But your mother took your wishes into consideration and spoke to your grandsire, King Viserys, who approved and gave his blessing for a marriage between his son Aemond and his granddaughter Y/N.

At this, Queen Alicent could do nothing, much less Otto Hightower despite their replies and clear displeasure.

And when your mother gave you the news, it made you very happy to know that finally Aemond could call you his and you could call him yours.

"But are you completely sure about this, my love?"

Your mother asks you, looking at you with eyes of love and understanding, holding your hand. To which you only nod with a small smile on your lips.

"Yes."

She smiles too, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb. Then she lets out a long breath and nods as she lowers her gaze for a moment, which catches your attention.

"You agree, mother?"

She again looks at you with a slightly bewildered look.

"It doesn't matter what I think, sweet girl. What matters is that you really are sure that he is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with."

"I know but your opinion matters to me."

Again Rhaenyra's sweet smile returns to her lips, watching you adoringly for a few moments to again let out a small breath.

"Well… I saw that coming, in a way," she smiles at you, "And I think we all do, actually."

"So you don't feel uncomfortable?"

"No," she denies absurdly, "I remind you that I did exactly as you wish, my love."

"It doesn't hurt to ask you and want to know how you really feel, mother."

Your mother is silent for a few seconds, thinking about your words and thinking about her own next.

"Well… if we go back in time, certainly your grandsire must have felt uncomfortable and… weird about the idea of his brother and his only daughter at the time together," she says sympathetically, "Something I never understood until now that I get to be in the same position as him. But that's our family and I couldn't oppose the idea of what you wish."

She assures you.

"Ever since you and Aemond started being inseparable as children, I knew it would turn out like this. And I knew that the thought of you both being meant to burn together could not be inevitable. And I understand that perfectly."

You nod slowly, listening and understanding his words, thinking.

"But father doesn't think the same," you say with some disappointment, "Neither do my brothers. They are upset with this and with me, I know."

"My love, you don't worry about them," your mother tells you immediately, "Your father will eventually understand, he can't be such a hypocrite, can he? And your brothers… they don't see that this will probably put an end to the rivalry between the two families, despite of happened in Driftmark. I don't expect Aemond to forgive Luke either."

She says and a wave of peace begins to envelop you.

"But there's always a chance and hope," she assures you, "So this is good, very good. Otherwise, Aemond would not have asked for your hand and I would not have spoken to the King to give his blessing."

That time your mother's words could not have comforted you more, making you feel genuinely happy and no longer feeling worried about the people around you because of your marriage to Aemond.

And that time you had also gone in search of Aemond after leaving your mother's chamber, finding him in the library, feeling relieved and happy.

"I spoke to my mother," you tell him, intertwining your fingers with his, "She said to be sure to set a date for the wedding with the king and she will tell us as soon as they come to an agreement."

Aemond watches you with a barely visible half-smile, all his gaze soft and watching you intently, with fondness and longing, noticing how you can't help but be excited about the wedding.

"And do you have any preferences for the wedding you'd like to share with me?"

He asks you softly, completely catching your attention, smiling at him.

"Actually, I should be asking you that question," you take a seat next to him, not letting go of his hand.

"I was the one who insisted on a traditional wedding," he reminds you with an obvious look, "You know I would prefer the Valyrian wedding, less people, few witnesses and everything just like the tradition of our house."

"The traditional wedding thing you asked for taking your mother's wish into consideration. She doesn't approve of this, so that's the only way to keep her less angry," you also remind him, "Still after our wedding at the Septon, we can fly to Dragonstone and have the Valyrian wedding we want. We can even stay there, just you and me."

Aemond smiles, bringing your hand to his lips, leaving chaste, soft kisses on the back of yours, understanding perfectly what you are implying, just what he desires as well.

"No celebration feast, then?" he peers over your hand.

"You want a feast?"

"It doesn't matter what I want, Y/N. All I want is to marry you and unite our blood, that's all that matters to me."

You smile softly, moving a little closer towards him.

"I know, nothing is more important to me too," you tell him softly, "but don't be so insensitive about the preparations, Aemond," you tell him amused.

He rolls his eye, still smiling and still not letting go of your hand for wanting to keep feeling your touch.

"Well, then tell me what's concerning you."

"They are not concerns, I just want to know your opinion and take into consideration some wishes you want to make."

"And what are those?"

"Well… your opinion would help me to know about what colors of the dress I should wear."

Aemond stops his caresses on your hand and watches you with a thin line on his lips and really expressionless for a few seconds without saying anything.

"I know perfectly well that this is about a concern of yours, Y/N," he finally tells you afterwards.

"Well, yes, it is a concern," you reluctantly confess.

"The colors of a dress?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Wear green or red?"

"My love, the dress will be yours, not mine. Besides, I know you don't like green."

"Yes but that color is yours."

"No, it's not mine, green is my mother's color," he reminds you, "I may wear it sometimes, but we are both more Targaryen than anything. So if you must choose colors, let them be red and black, just the same colors I will wear."

At that moment in front of him you don't show it, but you feel really relieved to hear his words, the dress being an issue that really had you worried sick.

So you get up, let out a long breath and sit on his lap, him instantly accepting you in his arms, while you drop your head on his chest in a defeated motion.

"What would I do without you," you murmur.

Aemond lets out a small laugh.

"'Rather what would I do without you, Issa jorrāelagon."

You let out a long breath, closing your eyes, taking comfort in the fact that you are in the arms of Aemond, the man you love.

"You're right," you murmur, "All I want is to call a Septon and have him marry us right now with no preparations and no other planning. I was going crazy over a dress and it's only the beginning."

"Don't worry, my love," he assures you softly, "We will plan the whole wedding together, without any third opinions and wishes. And in the end, it will all have been worth it. We'll finally be married, what we've always wanted."

You smile softly, lifting your face a little towards him to watch him, to which he also watches you, seeing your face light up, full of illusion and excitement.

"I still can't believe it."

"You know there's no turning back now, don't you? Once I see you at the Septon, you're already bound to me forever."

"Just what I've always wanted. Unless you don't want to."

"Of course I want to, I'm just warning you," he tells you with a smile, "And I also remind you that the blood of the dragon runs thick."

"We are lucky we share the same blood, my love."

Unable to help yourself any longer, Aemond's lips just above you being an invitation you complacently want to heed, you place your hands on his cheeks and begin to caress your lips with his, sharing a soft, affection-filled kiss that he reciprocates, holding you by your waist.

And even though you have shared countless kisses before, this one is undoubtedly different, because very soon he will be yours and you will be his, finally.

"Avy jorrāelan," you murmur against his lips.

"Avy jorrāelan, Issa gevie ābrazȳrys."

You let out a small laugh at his lips, pulling away from him a little.

"I'm not your wife yet."

"And your point is?"

You laugh again, stroking his long hair, watching his handsome face, stroking his scar as well, watching him with desire and adoration, all of him being what you want.

"Yet you will be soon."

And again he pulls you close in a needy kiss which you reciprocate instantly, really not looking forward to the big day anymore, wanting, no, rather needing to call him your husband as soon as possible.

And finally you can tell when the big day will be you are with Aemond in the gardens, both of you taking a walk before he goes to take his daily sword training and you get the seamstress to plan your dress, when your mother appears and approaches you both.

She has a small smile on her face, so you can tell this is good news.

"I spoke with the King a few moments ago. The Maester's are taking very good care of him and we have finally agreed on a date for the wedding."

"I hope it is soon," Aemond says to your surprise, listening and watching your mother carefully, with a serious gaze, "Though I would not be surprised if my father in his state, has suggested the end of the year."

"No, it's not like that," she tells him almost in the same condescending tone, "I let him know what you are expecting and the date has been dictated for before the end of spring, on another moon."

You hold back your huge smile and excitement, holding Aemond's hand a little tightly in a second out of excitement, that just sounding perfect, just what you wished for.

And even though you know Aemond must also feel the same happiness, he doesn't show it in front of your mother, holding back.

"Does my mother know?" he asks your mother in a softer tone.

Rhaenyra denies with a serious but restrained look of sadness and disappointment.

"No," she clears her throat, lowering her gaze for a moment, "I thought you would want to tell her," she confesses to him, "I never find the opportunity to talk to her," she purses her lips, "She won't let me."

Aemond at your side just nods in her direction, understanding. He also understands that this behavior on his mother's part towards his half-sister has always been there since she returned to the Keep.

And he doesn't think that will change, even after the wedding, but he appreciates Rhaenyra's efforts to try to talk to her and not leave her out of his wedding, despite her insensitivity at Driftmark.

It doesn't mean he'll be nice and friendly to her, it's just that little appreciation.

Then slowly Aemond turns to you and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, locking you in his arms for a moment, wanting to feel you close.

You smile and hug him back, turning your face to look at your mother with a small more than happy smile on your lips, your mother also smiling in your direction, honestly feeling happy for the both of you.

News of the date begins to spread among the families and soon after throughout the Court as well, with the wedding of Prince Aemond Targaryen and Princess Y/N Velaryon being the most anticipated of the year.

It was still something Otto and Alicent Hightower didn't want, neither did Daemon Targaryen, but the King had already given his blessing and he himself wanted the news to spread throughout Westeros, wanting a truly unforgettable wedding.

Until a few days after your mother let you both know the wedding date, you unexpectedly began to see Aemond less frequently.

Usually the two of you every day go for a walk in the garden or meet in the library. And if you don't have time during the day, at night he sneaks into your chamber or you sneak into his through the secret passages.

However, none of that also happened to make up for lost time.

You would see him a few moments at the training yard with Criston Cole and a few other knights, but that was about it. And when you looked for him in the library, it looked like he wasn't going to spend any more time there.

And just when you decided to sneak through the secret passages to go to his chambers, you stopped and thought to yourself that maybe he's nervous and needs time to think about the wedding.

The wedding of the two of you is something you were longing for since you understood the meaning of a union that now that it's finally going to happen…probably has him very anxious and needs space.

Until the days go by and you start to feel that something is wrong, as you realize that he is avoiding you, something he has never done before.

You tried to talk to him but Criston Cole would let you know that he was having a meeting with his grandsire or was in the company of the queen. He would also tell you that the prince was out for a ride on his dragon.

You asked him to send him a message from you when he saw him, but it seemed that those messages never reached his ears or if they did, he ignored you.

And when you went to look for him at the training yard, you were told that the prince had skipped his training or had already trained very early in the morning, leaving you confused and not understanding anything.

You were completely disconcerted that the two of you suddenly stopped seeing each other and spending time together, so without thinking about it, one night you took the secret passage and slipped into the darkness with a candle in your hand and headed to Aemond's chambers.

But as you try to push his secret door, confusion overcomes you and your pulse stops for a moment when it won't open, being blocked by something from the other side.

You think about shouting his name, but instantly you know it's a very bad idea as you can't risk the secrecy of the passageways out of desperation.

But more and more disappointment and worry fill you, not understanding what is happening and thinking that it must be something bad.

At this, you show your concern to your mother, who continues to attend to matters at Court, keeping an eye on the King's health and helping you with the preparations for the wedding.

"Sure it's nothing, sweet girl. Men act in ways we don't understand, just as we act in ways they don't understand us. Perhaps he is preparing to be a good husband to you and both of you to do your duty for the realm.

"But it seems so strange to me," you say worried, "He doesn't talk to me, I practically don't see him and he even seems to avoid me."

"Have you tried to talk to him yet?"

"Yes, yes, all the time," you reply in an instant, "He even said he would help me get everything ready for the wedding but… I never see him."

"Y/N—

"I just don't understand, mother. We used to spend time together and now that we're finally getting married, he's acting weird."

"Sweet girl—

"Or is it that he doesn't want to marry me anymore?"

You interrupt him with a broken voice and utter disappointment and sadness in your eyes, realization starting to creep into your mind, truly not understanding anything.

"My love, you shouldn't go to extremes," your mother tells you in an instant, not wanting you to get upset and start thinking the worst, "He's been longing for this wedding as much as you have. He's probably just nervous and needs some time."

You look at your beautiful mother not so sure.

"Are you sure?" you ask her in a breathy whisper.

"Yes, my love, very sure."

She quickly moves towards you to lock you in her arms and comfort you, telling you that everything will be all right and that what you want so much , will finally happen.

But if only that had been it.

Not long after talking to your mother, once you head to your mother's chambers after leaving the chambers of your sweet Aunt Helaena with whom you were discussing some lovely ideas for the wedding, a guard intercepts you in the middle of the hallway, stopping you.

"Prince Aemond requires your presence in the Council Chamber, Princess. Immediately."

Such words could not have made you feel happier and relieved, finally ending this torture, so you quickly make your way to the Council Chamber, in an instant thinking about why Aemond has asked to see you there.

But honestly you don't care, all you want is to finally see him and talk to him.

And in an instant you already find yourself walking through the doors of the Council Chamber, happy to see Aemond's figure finally, standing with his back to you from the other side of the table, waiting for you.

But you must have thought something was wrong when he didn't even turn to look at you when he heard the sound of the doors opening and your footsteps approaching.

"My love, I'm so relieved to finally see you," you say with a smile, approaching him happily, "I was so worried, you don't know how much I wanted to see you and talk to you. I have so much to tell you, I even came to think that….

"I won't marry you."

Then your whole world stops, just like your feet, stopping abruptly at his words, your smile fading in a second and watching him now in shock.

The room goes completely silent, with no one else present, just the two of you, not even a guard present at his request for discretion… for now.

"I have spoken to my father… I have already cancelled all preparations, the Septon and my family have also been made aware."

And at his words, you feel like each one of them is a knife straight to your heart, tearing it from the inside, feeling an intent, sharp pain in your chest.

You look at him with your lips parted, your gaze completely bewildered and your eyes starting to fill with tears.

You are completely paralyzed, unable to move despite feeling yourself start to tremble, seeing him not even look back at you, telling you all this without any emotion, as if it meant nothing.

"Your family must also be being notified right now, the whole Court will know soon too."

"But…

You try to say with a thread of a voice, but he again speaks, still turning his back to you and with no emotion in his voice, no emotion in his posture either, leaving you to see a man you don't know completely.

"That's all. You can leave now."

Disbelief is completely reflected in your gaze, truly not understanding anything, with tears starting to involuntarily flow out of your eyes at his coldness and insensitivity.

Because he's already done everything… without you having the slightest idea.

"Are you serious?"

You manage to say, your voice completely broken and in a whisper, needing to sit up or lean against something, feeling your strength go.

"Doesn't it sound like I'm serious?"

"Aemond—

"I told you that's all, you can leave now," he repeats you with the same seriousness and coldness, as if you were nobody to him.

Then the first sob escapes your lips, trying to control yourself, but you cannot.

You continue to stand there, watching him with all the sadness in the world, also with all the confusion, really not understanding anything, needing an explanation, wanting to know why, what you have done wrong, what has happened, why he so suddenly changed his mind.

Everything was all right, everything seemed right, that you just don't understand.

"I-I don't… I don't understand anything—

"If you don't leave Y/N, I'll leave," he warns you, without even looking you in the eye for a second.

"But you… I-I… I thought—

He won't let you talk, he just doesn't want to listen to you and just like he said, that's what he does. He lets out a frustrated sigh and heads out of the Council Chamber, leaving you behind, heartbroken and not knowing why.

"Aemond," you call out to him between sobs, pleading.

Not knowing where you have drawn strength from, you move towards him once he is within reach, grabbing his arm, wanting to stop him and make him explain, but as soon as you reach him, he quickly pushes you away in a sharp, tactless movement, treating you, again, as if you were nobody.

"Don't."

He warns you in a threatening and cold tone, resuming his way to the doors in a more hurried pace, not even looking back.

His demeanor and coldness leave you completely shocked and static, never in a million years expecting such behavior from him towards you.

And once he leaves the Council Chamber, you feel your heart completely broken and your mind a mess of emotions, wanting to believe that this is not real, starting to cry and sob loudly.

A complete mess, Aemond leaves you there without explanation and without caring at all about your feelings, all being said and done.

Not long after, your mother and father rush into the Council Chamber, looking for you, finding you still a mess and you quickly asking them for explanations, explanations they had no idea about either.

And all that time, you kept asking yourself why, why he had done this to you if he was supposed to love you and want to marry you. But nobody understood anything.

Only he knew why he had done it.

Weeks have passed since the announcement of the cancelled betrothal between prince Aemond and princess Y/N.

You being the protagonist of the topic to talk about, even so the men and women of the Court were not at all dissimulated and kept feeding the news more and more with each passing day.

Different rumors ran about the possible cause that caused the wedding to be canceled, rumors that you did not want to hear and for which you ended up locking yourself in your chamber, not wanting to see anyone.

You barely slept and barely ate, watching the days pass by through your windows slowly, with huge bags under your eyes and dismissing your maids whenever they wanted to assist you.

You hadn't seen him since that conversation either.

You didn't hear from anyone except your family who were in charge of making you react by going into your chamber to take a bath and eat something, your mother extremely worried about you and your father specifically having someone in mind for wanting to murder upon seeing your state.

Everyone was still as confused as you were, even your mother asked Queen Alicent for an explanation, but to no avail. She even tried to talk to Aemond, but he wouldn't let her, saying that everything was already done.

It was so much the humiliation that not even your mother would force you to leave your chamber, no matter how much she wanted to get you out of your four walls, Daemon feeling extremely upset and indignant.

Your brothers never said anything to you, but they were extremely worried about you too, as were your sisters Baela and Rhaena.

Even your grandmother Rhaenys sent her concerns from Driftmark, but no one had any explanations for anyone.

And you too, despite everything, still wanted an explanation from him. You wanted to understand, you wanted to know why… because you needed to, you needed to know.

But you never tried to talk to him again. How could you if he had left you totally devastated with no justification?

And you knew that if you tried, Aemond wouldn't be willing to talk to you. He found it easier to forget and move on, as if nothing had happened, without caring, just what he is doing now.

Until one day the king requested a dinner with every member of his family, including you, without any exception, wanting to have a dinner with everyone together, wanting the waters to calm down after so much tension.

Your mother assured you that your grandsire was no longer blinded by the milk of poppy, that he made sure to drink less of it now, and yet you thought that your grandsire still conscious, made the worst decisions.

You could no longer continue to take refuge in your chambers, so with no alternative, your maids prepare you for dinner, dressing you and making you a hairstyle as usual, nothing new and nothing missing.

"You can do this, my sweet girl."

Your loving mother says to you, holding your face with both her hands.

"We will be with you at all times. I will be with you always by your side," she assures you, "You just ignore him, ignore them all, I will do the rest. Let's just please your grandsire on this, all right?"

Unable to help yourself, you hug your mother tightly and in one needy movement, to which she hugs you back with all that love and all that comfort you so desperately need, understanding you completely.

You try not to cry, because you've cried too much already and you're tired of it, but now you can't help it, needing your perfect mother for strength.

"Thank you," you murmur into her chest.

"I love you, my love. I would do anything for you."

You smile with happiness and sadness at the same time, with pain, starting to cry, trying not to make noise.

"I love you too."

She then tells you that you can stay a moment longer in her chambers before leaving to give you time, but what you don't want is to draw attention to yourself, so you prefer to arrive before anyone else in the dining room.

Then your whole family takes their respective seats, your father instantly giving you the seat next to your mother so that you are not sitting across from him, everyone knowing perfectly well which is his usual seat.

Then the doors open again and it's them, all the green ones.

You lower your gaze and pretend not to care about anything as he walks through the doors, following Aegon, just being in the same room as him making you feel something you don't know exactly what it is but you don't like it, feeling uncomfortable as well.

He doesn't look a single second in your direction either, but instantly being the center of attention of your father, who is the one who takes a seat in front of him, with Rhaena and Luke.

Shortly after, the King makes his entrance, everyone rising from their seats to greet him.

And more shortly after, you want to say that time fortunately passes quickly but unfortunately it doesn't, so you just suffer in silence, with your mother holding your hand from time to time, wanting to give you all her possible support in this.

The servants serve the food and wine, that fortunately distracting you, also the music your grandsire orders to play, this being a bit more bearable.

But all you want to do is get out of this room and never be in the company of all the Hightowers ever again.

You know that sweet Helaena is not to blame for anything, but she is part of them too by being Aegon's wife and already having three children with him.

And that couldn't make you sadder… sweet Helaena being wife to a man who doesn't deserve her.

Your father offers you his hand in a moment as Rhaena and Luke rise from their seats and head to the center to dance, also Jace invites Helaena.

Your father shows you his support even though he had said from the beginning that your betrothal to Aemond was a bad idea. But you are also his sweet little girl and he lets you know that he will always be there for you.

When the moment is interrupted by Otto Hightower, wanting to make an announcement, stopping the music and drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

You exchange a glance with your father, you don't even look in Otto's direction when everyone else does, because he is so close to his grandsire.

"Now that we're all together, I'm very pleased to let you know the great news."

Otto Hightower says and you raise your wine glass to your lips, not really caring.

"My grandson Prince Daeron who is in Oldtown, will soon return to the capital to marry Cerelle Lannister, daughter of our Naval advisor, Jason Lannister," he announces proudly.

Everything is silent for a few seconds, you still not giving importance to anything or anyone, still thinking about the great news, definitely.

You didn't even remember Daeron, he's been so long away from King's Landing that it's impossible to remember him. And before anyone says anything, just to corroborate what Otto is saying, he again speaks up.

"It is also my pleasure to inform you that my grandson Aemond…

Your heart stops for a second, as well as that definitely catches everyone's attention, everyone listening attentively and you too, unconsciously.

"He has also been betrothed to one of Lord Borros Baratheon's four daughters, the lady Floris Baratheon," he says and continues, "These two marriages clearly being more than excellent benefits to the house of the dragon and so securing our bloods, both the common and the blood of old Valyria."

At that moment you did not notice the exchange of glances from your brothers and sisters, also the mocking smile that your father let out when he heard the man's words, as well as the serious look on your mother's face when she heard everything.

You just focused on yourself, pretending none of it mattered to you, feigning indifference, when your mind could only repeat one thing at all times:

"My grandson Aemond has also been betrothed to one of Lord Borros Baratheon's four daughters, the Lady Floris Baratheon."

You want to cry. And a lot.

However, it was only more humiliation than necessary and you had to control yourself, needing this dinner to be over as soon as possible.

Again absolute silence is in the huge room, you couldn't care less.

When Alicent is the first to congratulate her son, as well as your grandsire in a weak and hoarse voice, then your mother also offers the coldest congratulations she has ever given, simply to keep up appearances.

And you can only think: was this necessary?

How mean Otto Hightower had to be and so did Alicent to want to humiliate you further by announcing such a thing, to you and your entire family for that matter. It just wasn't necessary.

Until finally the dinner is over and everyone can leave once the king takes his leave and retires to his chambers first.

Completely controlling your tears, you enter your room with your father more than furious, followed by your mother and your brothers and sisters.

"What the fuck was that!?" he inquires to your mother.

"My love—

"Do you really think I'm just going to stand here and do nothing!?"

"Oh truly? And what are you going to do?" asks your mother too, seriously, "Cut off the heads of Aemond and Otto Hightower?"

"They have humiliated us, Rhaenyra!" he exclaims to her in annoyance, "they can talk and humiliate me all they want, but they will not humiliate you or my family!"

"Father—

Baela tries to talk to him, but he won't let her.

"We're going to go talk to Viserys this instant and Y/N's wedding to that fucking one-eyed is going to happen."

"Are you serious?" your mother inquires again, "Husband, you were the first to oppose the marriage."

"They have humiliated our daughter, don't you see!" he points out angrily, "Her marriage to Aemond would have given us more power over them if we had him and Vhagar on our side. Now by the time Viserys dies, you're not going to have enough support for your claim," he tells her seriously, "We need Lord Borros on our side as well."

"Daemon, this isn't about the crown, this is about our daughter."

"And that is exactly why I will not let such humiliation pass," he tells her seriously and with a dark look on his face, "He asked for Y/N's hand, he gave you a whole speech to allow him to marry her, now he keeps his word or he marries no one, just like that."

"I want to go home."

You speak in the middle of all the discussion, staring at an unimportant spot in your chamber, tears running down your cheeks, your sad, tired, broken voice calling for everyone's attention.

Your mother and sisters quickly turn to you, concerned about your condition.

"What is it, my love?"

Your mother asks you, running her hands through your hair, watching you intently.

"I want to go home," you repeat, "I want to go to Dragonstone."

Your mother immediately looks at your father, who looks back at her, serious and attentive to you, feeling more upset at seeing you so broken.

"My love, we can't leave," your mother tells you in a soft voice, "We need to take care of your grandsire and stay at Court, as it should be."

"You stay here," you say in an instant, "I will go."

Your mother denies, understanding you, but unable to allow it.

"My love, don't—

"Mother please," you plead, "Please, at least just for a little while, I promise I'll come back," you beg, "But now… I just want to get out of here, please."

Your mother watches you for a few moments without saying anything with her lips parted, again exchanging a glance with Daemon, who nods slightly in her direction.

But Rhaenyra won't let you go just like that. She is your mother, after all.

"You'll be alone, my sweet," she says with some fear, "I can't leave you alone and I won't be at ease with that."

"She won't be," Rhaena says instantly, drawing everyone's attention, "I'll go with her and Luke will too. We'll come back when she's ready."

"No, absolutely not," says your mother resolutely, "I can't have the three of you in Dragonstone alone, no—

"Let them," your father interrupts, "I'd rather Y/N leave this snake pit until everything calms down. I feel better with the idea of Rhaena and Luke accompanying her, so the three of them will take care of each other."

"And we won't necessarily always have to stay at Dragonstone," Rhaena adds, "We can fly to Driftmark and spend a few days keeping our grandmother company too."

Your mother turns your gaze to you, who you completely beg with your gaze to let you do this, to let you go for now.

And of course, you feel completely grateful to Rhaena and your little brother for not letting you go alone. Clearly Jace and Baela are the heirs after your parents and it makes the most sense for them to stay here at Court.

Until finally your mother lets out a long breath, not herself believing she will accept this, being too afraid to let her children go to Dragonstone alone.

Though she knows there is no better safe place for them, even safer than King's Landing.

"All right," she finally says, "But I'll fly with you there and then I'll come back, just to make sure everything will be all right."

You immediately nod, not really caring, since all you want to do is get out of here and not come back.

Again your mother hugs you, transmitting all that comfort and affection you always need from her, really not wanting to leave here. You were so excited to go back to the Keep but you weren't expecting any of this to happen.

And now you just want to go home and come back when you feel better.

Soon enough you find yourself in Dragonpit, with your mother, Luke and Rhaena ready to fly to Dragonstone, with your father, Jace, Baela, Joffrey, little Aegon and little Viserys seeing them off.

All the while shedding tears, lasting more nights without sleep and more days with no appetite for anything, only finding comfort in riding your dragon as your mother was not around.

And as soon as you finish saying goodbye, the sooner you find yourself in the skies and the sooner you arrive at the black castle, your home.

You needed to let many moons pass to cope with your broken heart and such humiliation, also to accept that Aemond never really loved you and that he would soon marry another woman who would not be you.

But Silverwing was always there for you and could feel everything you felt.

Until one day, more moons after your departure from King's Landing, Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen return to Dragonstone with their entire family for a short time, promising to return soon.

And shortly after the Heir to the Throne leaves King's Landing, a raven arrives at the Red Keep, announcing the unexpected new news.

The Heir, Princess Rhaenyra returns to King's Landing in less than two moons with her prince consort Prince Daemon and her entire family to celebrate the wedding of Princess Y/N Velaryon to Lord Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell.

And that message is spread all over the Red Keep, all over King's Landing and eventually all over Westeros.

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Everything's all fun and games until everyone assumes you're just being a Horny BardTM when you have, in fact, actually been kidnapped by a dragon.

🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

“Wow,” Ace whistled, long and low, and you fought a twitch in your jaw.

He and Deuce were certainly beat to shit, but not quite ‘hurled dozens of feet through the air and a roof’ level of shit, so your spell must have cushioned at least a little of the fall. The pair of idiots stood at the entrance of the cavernous room, shifting back and forth on their heels and faces twisted up in varying degrees of horror. 

“I mean, I know there’s a stereotype about bards and whatever,” he continued, aghast. “But, really? Really?”

You grit your teeth. The pointed chin resting atop your head shifted and you felt claws flex at your hips.

‘My friends will probably be coming back here soon to find me,’ you’d entreated, not five-minutes prior.

‘Your friends?’ the dragon had repeated, slow, like the concept of comradery was something completely alien. And then his eyes had narrowed. ‘Ah. They intend to steal you away,’ he’d said with all the indignation of someone who’d clearly forgotten he had literally just proclaimed his intent to the do the exact same thing.

Sparks had shot out from between his teeth, and the already too-sharp black nails tipping his fingers had curled into talons—ashy darkness trailing up his arms like a seeping stain.

‘What? No,’ you’d lied. ‘They would never. I’m sure they’re just curious. Whether I’m still alive or not, I mean.’

‘Oh,’ he’d blinked, that venomous ire seeping from his gaze as if it’d never been there to begin with. ‘I suppose that does make sense.’

So when your loveable idiots had eventually stormed in—swords drawn, banners flying—you schooled your countenance into something as placid as possible. Something that perhaps conveyed ‘I would love for you guys to help me out here, but also I would really like not to see the three of us become tonight’s entrée. So like. Maybe sit this one out.’ But whatever expression you ended up making clearly wasn’t doing what you were aiming for if Ace’s first instinct was to accuse you of Horny Bard Shenanigans.

Or maybe your face wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was just the nearly seven-foot-tall, naked, dragon man draped across your shoulders. Who’s to say.

“This has nothing to do with that,” you snapped, ears burning.

“Do with what?” The newly dubbed Tsunotarou rumbled. He was pressed close enough that you could feel the worlds roll through his chest—annnnd you were going to stop yourself right there and focus very, very, intently on getting through this conversation alive.

“Human things,” you spluttered frantically.

“Ah,” he hummed, his chin shifting from the crown of your head to dip down and instead rest atop the curve of your shoulder. “You’ll have to explain it to me later, then. I do find our cultural differences very intriguing. You humans are so… new age.”

“Explain it to you later…?” Deuce frowned, and you could see the words zipping around behind his eyes to slowly put themselves together into a cohesive thought. He shot ramrod straight and whipped his arm out accusatorily. “You’re staying?!”

“Of course,” you said, with all the enthusiasm of someone with a knife held to their throat. You locked eyes as obviously as you could—hoping he’d get the message. “It’s in everyone’s best interest.”

You could see the pinched look on his face, the heavy weight of discontentment tugging at his brow. There was a war being waged in that man’s head—a battle between what lingering, frail, shreds of rationality and comprehension remained, and the desire to be a good friend and save our bard! Because mama said I should be good to my friends! You stared him down hard, silently begging, pleading, to just let it go. The fingers gripping his axe tightened and you could hear the leather of his gauntlets creak with strain. Tsunotarou hummed, something like amusement coloring the throaty rumble, and it tingled all the way from the tips of your toes to the cheek he was tucked up against. The claws at your side flexed—not deep enough to hurt, but firm enough to know that funny as the notion of a teeny, human, barbarian hurling themselves at a dragon was, it wasn’t going to be a good enough joke to earn said dragon’s mercy.

“Well, duh, you’re staying!” Ace interrupted slickly, sliding in front of Deuce and his burbling rage like a fox finally skulking from its hole. “Look at what a great new friendyou’ve made! You can’t just leave him here all on his lonesome, now can you?”

The low rumble skirting along your back melted into something that was very nearly a purr. Your eyes flickered to your captor’s face—or as much of his face as you could manage to make out, considering he had plastered himself to your side like an overgrown cat. His lips were curled back into that smug, contented, smirk—the tips of his sharp canines just barely peeked out over his bottom lip.

“We’ll come back and check on you, of course,” Ace continued. He waved his hand at the dragon, like they were old chums shooting the shit over a pint of ale in a tavern. “You know how it is. Gotta make sure they’re settling in all right—make sure you’re keeping with your honorable intentions and whatnot. How’s two weeks from now sound?”

“Two weeks?!” you wailed.

Tsunotarou grumbled, clearly also displeased. “I agree. That seems far too soon.”

“Two months?” the ginger countered easily.

“Ace!”

The dragon seemed to consider this new proposal quite thoroughly. You could feel his long lashes flick down against your cheek as his eyes went hooded, heavy—slipping back into his thoughts to ponder upon this newly proffered timeline. After a long, long, moment, he lifted himself from your neck and plonked his chin back down atop the crown of your head.

“That is acceptable.”

Deuce looked entirely unimpressed. You had a feeling you looked like you were about to shit yourself. Ace, naturally, seemed more or less content.

“Well then!” the traitor chirped. “We’ll see you when we see you then, yeah?”

You grit you teeth, but your gaze flicked to your other, kinder, friend and you bit back the slew of heinous insults brewing on your tongue. Deuce still looked more than ready to jump into the fray, consequences be damned. And you were not going to let your terrible, horrible, no-good, rotten luck end all his valiant attempts at redemption when he inevitably attempted to go toe-to-toe with the business end of a dragon.

“…Are you sure you’re gonna be alright here?” Deuce asked, face twisted up in distaste.  

There was a pissy rumble from over your shoulder.

“Do you doubt my abilities as a host?”

“Of course he doesn’t!” Ace cut in, ever the bootlicker. “And besides,” he drawled, elbowing his companion in the ribs. “You know how bards are. I’m sure this is right up their alley.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Deuce went pale—then green. Ace turned on you with a smile that was all vinegar. “Right?”

‘I should not let them be murdered horribly,’ you repeated to yourself past the crimson rage leaking into your vision. ‘I should not let them be horribly murdered—’

“Righteo!” you forced yourself to spit. And if you somehow managed to survive these next two months, you were going to string that red haired traitor up by his pinkies and feed him to the crows that lived outside your window.

Your friends slipped away slowly, hesitantly—Deuce looking like he’d been struck down by a horrid case of food poisoning or something else equally as stomach churning. Once they were gone, Tsunotarou lifted his chin from your head so that he could crane his neck over your shoulder and look at you more directly. Not that he had to try very hard, seeing as he was gigantic, whether on two legs or four.

“What was the small, ugly, one referring to?” he asked curiously. “About your profession?”

Your life flashed before your eyes.

“Bards are known for their hearty curiosity and drive to experience new situations,” you repeated, verbatim, from the little adventurer’s handbook you’d been gifted by Lord Crewel all those years ago.

“Oh,” he hummed, nodding into your hair. “Of course.”

.

.

The first major hurdle cropped up barely two hours later.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

The dragon blinked slowly, as if mentally tallying through a list of human bodily functions to try and figure out just what on earth you were talking about.

“Ah,” he said after a moment. And then he began to melt away—limbs stretching and cracking, and porcelain complexion bubbling up with inky miasma so thick and dark it may as well have been tar. It was both horrifying and awe-inspiring to watch, like some great creature of old emerging from an arcane cocoon. And not two minutes later, a familiar, ebony, dragon was standing before you in all its glory.

He lowered his snout and nosed around your shoulders for a moment, snuffling and searching. And then he pinched your collar between his teeth and hauled you into the air.

You tried not to scream. Really, you did. But humans just weren’t meant for flying, let alone while suspended between the jaws of a beast that could swallow them whole. By the time you landed, you were so wobbly and windswept that you nearly collapsed to the ground then and there, bladder be damned. Tsunotarou warbled something deep in his chest, and you glanced up past the thin veil of icy sweat dripping into your eyes.

He'd placed you into a blown-out enclave that had probably once been a very nice hallway. And in the corner was the remains of what indeed looked like a bathroom. You straightened yourself as much as you could and began hobbling woozily towards what you hoped was a proper, enchanted, toilet and not just some block of stone with a bowl at the bottom.

There was an echoing thud from behind you and you jumped, startled, and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Tsunotarou had sat his massive head at the entrance. And he continued to sit there. Watching.  

“Uhm,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

He stared, unmoving. You sighed and squashed your fingers into your temples.

“…We’re going to have to establish some boundaries,” you said. The dragon’s gigantic, neon, eyes closed and opened—like a question. “Boundaries,” you repeated. “Things that we do on our own.”

The beast’s lips flattened into a grumpy line and he grumbled something unintelligible at you, spitting loose sparks from behind his overly long canines.

However, mouthful of razor-sharp teeth in your face or otherwise, everyone had to draw the line between pride and self-preservation somewhere. And having to piss in front of an audience was apparently yours.

You waved your hands in a shoo shoo motion and those amethyst crests flattened irritably atop his skull. He settled in further, the structure of the terrace groaning beneath the weight of his scaly chin. You worried your lower lip between your teeth. It wasn’t exactly like there was a door or anything that you could just, like, shut in his face. And beating him off with a broom or something like a stray cat was out of the question—just out of sheer impossibility. You were going to have to get creative here…

An idea popped into your head and you leaned forward with a charismatic little smile that you’d unleashed on so many traders, and shopkeepers, and unsuspecting bakers that it ought to be considered a weapon in its own right. You’d practiced it in the mirror for weeks.

“I’ll tell you a story,” you offered, and his slitted pupils rounded a bit—intrigued. “That’s what I was before all this, you know. A storyteller.” You had his full interest now, those purple crests rippling behind his horns. “But you have to close your eyes,” you said. “It makes it easier to imagine that way.”

He stared you down curiously for a heartbeat or three, and then Tsunotarou’s gigantic, luminous, eyes slipped shut.  

You sighed and plopped yourself down on the decrepit, stone, toilet.

“Once upon a time,” you began, sweeping your cloak out in front of you to give yourself at least a little bit more dignity. One of those crests twitched at the sound of swirling fabric, but his eyes remained dutifully closed. “There was a bard who made some very terrible life decisions—"

.

.

The next bump in the road came the following afternoon.

“People tend to wear clothes,” you said.

He canted his head at you. “I am not a person.”

Oh for fucks sake.

Tsunotarou was stretched out along one of the many, grand, banisters lining what you assumed had once been a ballroom—lounging in the dim light like a lizard sunning itself on a rock. Apparently, before your arrival, he’d very rarely, if ever, shed his wings and scales for this more compact form. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying spreading himself out across all the new surfaces that the change in size allowed him. Part of you would have thought it was a bit endearing—seeing this eldritch monster merrily falling into the ‘if I fits, I sits’ way of life. The other part was sick of nearly collapsing in cardiac arrest every time you caught sight of his very naked self reclining across some new piece of furniture.

“Yes,” you intoned, deadpan. “But you look like one.”

He blinked slowly, as if putting together a thought. “I see. The dissonance of observing a vestige of humanity which does not actually fit the mold of a human must be disconcerting to you.” He rested a knuckle lightly against his chin as he pondered. “In the same way I may feel uncomfortable if you took on the form a dragon with no teeth or tail.”

“Sure. Whatever,” you bemoaned. “Just. Pants? Please?”

He observed you quietly for a moment, amusement dancing across his features. And then he grinned, putting the pointed tips of those impressive canines of his on full display.

“Well I suppose if you’re going to ask so sweetly.”

He sat up with a stretch that was outright spitting in the face of your plea for modesty, and then spread his hands. His black-tipped fingers twisted gracefully, artfully, and the cavernous room filled with the scent of packed earth and ozone. Soft puffs of emerald light glided along his arms, and in their wake sprouted tendrils of sheer, silken, sleeves. Those dancing lights traveled merrily from his shoulders to his hips, and then back again—spinning magic into fabric like little, ghostly, seamstresses as they went.

The soft glow faded and the silk settled around him with all the delicacy of a cloud. It was stunning, certainly. A true work of beauty. With billowing sleeves that cinched neatly at his wrists, and swept into an open window across his front. The fabric wrapped itself snuggly at his waist and draped low enough to offer at least what should have been the bare minimum of modesty. It pooled across his shoulders, splaying out into a split cape that looked eerily similar to the wings he dawned in his other, scalier, form.

But this lovely new ensemble—as gloriously shiny and magical as it was—was still nearly fucking transparent. And yeah, the shadows curling along the spiraling silk did a decent enough job at obscuring what ought to be obscured. But at the same time, somehow this impression of cloth, of loose fabric that dipped below his collar bones and hung uneven and open across his pale chest, was worse than the outright fucking nudity. Scandalous. Like walking in on a seduction scene in a trashy novel.

“…maybe you should just do whatever makes you comfortable,” you managed to cough out, gaze slipping downwards of its own accord. And then more down. You gulped. “D-Don’t feel the need to change yourself on my account.”

He stared grumpily at his swanky new outfit. And then back at you. His lips pursed into a pout.

“You don’t find it pleasing.”

Your eyes rolled up to stare miserably, tormentedly, at the ceiling, and you began reciting every religious verse you could think of. Thou shall not steal or covet. In the name of the Mother, the Crone, and the Hallowed Throne. Head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Aye, Macarena—

“It looks perfectly nice. I just think that you have as much of a right to be happy in your skin as I do,” you reiterated. “I—I mean, you’re already keeping yourself human more often than not just so we can talk.” Which was true enough, but also mostly an attempt to make it seem like your concern was genuinely aimed at him and not your steadily rising blood pressure.

“…you’re incredibly strange,” he grumbled after a moment, his brow tugging low on his forehead. More pouting. “And impossibly frustrating to read.”

The heat radiating off your face like a fucking active volcano felt ‘possible’ enough to you, but what did you know.

“That’s why you’re keeping me around,” you reminded him.

Ten minutes later, he was sprawled out with his head in your lap, the ridges of his horns bumping your hips and inky black hair spilling over your thighs. Naked as a jaybird.

“Tell me another story,” he hummed, eyes slipping closed.

“Sure,” you agreed, gaze once again firmly locked on the hundreds of cracks in the ceiling. You’d probably have them all memorized by this evening, or at the very least have managed to count them all up a dozen times over.

You were halfway through some yarn about armies made of playing cards and worlds beyond looking glasses when Tsunotarou sighed, heavy and bone deep. Content. And then he turned to bury his cheek into the rough fabric of your traveler’s pants with a rumbling drawl that was not unlike a purr. His nose pressed itself into the inseam of your thigh and your brain fuzzed out like you’d been shot pointblank with a Wand of Lightning Bolts.

“Child of Man?” he huffed after a moment—one, neon, eye flicking open to glare up at you grumpily. “What happened then? To the cat that smiled too wide and the man with the mad hats?”

“R-Right,” you squawked. “Uhm—so as I was saying—”

You stared back at all those cracks and started counting again from zero.

[ne-nene-ne]

♡ How to gain the dragon's affection ♡

-> things you can do to make this handsome fae weak in the knees

malleus x reader (fluff!)

Wear or carry the things he's gifted you!

Whether it's a necklace, bracelet, or even a mini gargoyle statue, have it on you! Malleus will beam with pride when he sees it on your person. I feel like he's a bit of a possessive person, so he'd love seeing you dressed in the things that he, himself has chosen and gifted you.

Indulge him in his passion for exploring ruins and his love for gargoyles!

If you show even the tiniest bit of interest in gargoyles or ruin exploring, you will see Malleus' eyes light up immediately and he will begin talking about it for hours. Please allow him to do so. Not many share his passion or are interested in these types of things (if at all), please listen to him ramble on. Heck, join the Gargoyle Studies Club! Give this dude some company because he's pretty much the only member there. 😭 And look, he's aware that not everyone is interested in the same things he is, but if you at least put in the effort to listen and try to understand, he'd be a happy fae

Include him in your activities!

We already know how much of a complex he has towards being invited/uninvited, so if you constantly make it a point to include him in whatever you're doing, he will feel loved. I don't think he'd be picky about what kind of activity you'd be doing. He'd be open-minded to whatever it is. In fact, he'd try to find possible ways to make it easier on you if it's a difficult task. If it's an artsy/creative activity, like painting, there's a chance he'll either be pretty good at it at first try, or he'll end up making a bit of a mess. I also don't think he'd mind much of this either, even if he did end up looking silly. He would laugh it off heartily and probably be like, "How interesting...!" He's curious about your ways and is very much willing to learn. His adoration for you will just increase if you try to teach him

Help him raise his tamagotchi!

He absolutely loves his Roaring Drago and so if you offer to help him "raise" it or offer to watch over it whenever he's busy, he'll fall more in love with you. Not only will he feel closer to you as you both nurture the little creature, he might even begin to see a future with you and your own little ones (if you ever had that in mind) and oh, how he knows how much he'd love that life dearly if it was spent with you.

Share that full-sized cake with him!

This one is oddly specific but as seen in his profile, Malleus dislikes full-sized cakes because he tried eating one entirely by himself 😅 (ofc he wouldn't feel great afterwards). You might be met with a resistant attitude or sour face from him (out of instinct) when you bring out that whole cake, but show him that it isn't as bad as he thinks when he shares it with someone. Maybe he'll like it! And if he doesn't, well then you guys can smear the leftovers on each other's faces and have a bit of fun!

This poor boy has just been left out on a lot. Make him feel welcomed, wanted, and loved and he will adore you forever 🥺❤️

a/n: not really proofread tbh but it was a fun one! I might just turn this into a series and do the same for other twst charas. I'm thinking of Azul or Leona next, hmm

And OKAY so I originally posted this on @lyneira (my brand new writing blog) but my posts on there aren't showing up in the tags yet so I guess I'll still be posting some of my writing here until tumblr allows them to be seen 😭 somebody pls interact with my new blog so that tumblr doesn't think I'm a bot 😔

[yantako]

Hello! Can i request yandere Malleus , Floyd and Kalim with an s/o who cant feel fear? (Its not that they are brave or anything its a real problem in their brain that they of course cannot fix)

Hi there! Thank you so much for the request!

I have definitely heard of this brain disorder before and honestly, it is really scary to think about it. Not sure if I'm doing it justice though, please forgive me if it doesn't sound like the condition! ><

Anyway, without further ado, let's begin!

Warning: Yandere and dubious elements.

Yandere with a S/O who can't feel fear

ft. Malleus, Floyd & Kalim

Malleus Draconia

• When you two first met, he was surprised that you smiled at him instead of being shocked or scared of him.

• However, because of such a reaction, he grows an interest in you for being so 'brave'.

• Everything would go well with his talks with you, getting to know you better and all, and slowly he started developing feelings for you.

• He'd always known you for being fearless about everything, even in the dangerous situations that you sometimes put yourself through from what he has heard from your stories.

• However, he started to feel curious about what your fearful face might look like and decided to play a small trick on you. Would maybe a giant dragon suffice in scaring you?

• When he saw your first reaction was lacking in fear, he'd try again with bigger and bigger moves. Malleus could feel his tiny smirk slowly distorting into a frown filled with worry and pain. It only became full-fledged anger at the point where it seems as if you didn't even care when the dragon was about to kill you [ of course, with you trapped with no room for escape ]. You didn't even seem remotely afraid as you tried to think of a way to combat this. However, when the situation is so bleak, you used your rational mind to think of the most painless way to go, and that is to tank the hardest hit in hopes of a one-shot KO.

• When you were about to be hit, Malleus immediately stopped the illusion and merely hugged you tightly. He had just wanted to see another side of you but ended up making himself feel like a disaster for putting you through that. He even had some thoughts if you would just give up your life so easily, why didn't you call him to help you?

• You felt pleasantly surprised that he was suddenly in front of you. Happy to see him, you gave him a smile, but also a knowing look when you realised what was going on just from his expression. It's about time you tell him about it.

• When he hears about your condition, his heart sunk.

• From then on, he has you kept by him the entire time. He had a mindset that if you can't feel fear, you won't know your dangers. It only made him more fearful for you.

• He becomes a lot more possessive over you and warier of the people around you, going so far as to cast spells on you without your knowledge.

• He becomes way more protective each time you get injured, on the basis that you cant feel fear even if you explained to him multiple times that you do know your dangers.

• He would do anything to keep you protected at all costs.

Floyd Leech

• Shrimpy! Aren't you scared of me?

• You just witness him punching a bloody student in a secluded area in school. Of course, you did stare for a while and wanted to leave as you presumed this to be troublesome and dangerous for you if you remained.

• However, this tall eel immediately noticed you and dropped the student he was holding. His eyes glinted as if he saw a brand-new toy being served up to him.

• He peered down at you threateningly after cornering you at a wall. However, even as he did that, you didn't show as big of a reaction as he wanted to see. Weren't you supposed to be squirming under him like a worm? Hey, why are you looking away when he's glaring at you!

• At first he thought it was very boring that you gave him such a lukewarm reaction, but when he figured that you were trying to find a way to escape calmly, his curiosity peaked again. He understood that normal people would be in a state of panic and give him their fullest attention in case he would hit them, however, he didn't feel any sense of fear from you but rather, a very cold way of ignoring him.

• With his interests piqued, he decided to let you go after attempting to scare you with his threats. He found it amazing that you showed no signs of fear in such a situation and decided to make his next days fun in school by harassing you.

• He continuously placed you in dangerous situations, even to the point of near-death situations, to simply observe and find entertainment. Well, that is until you actually got a near-death experience which scared the fuck outta him.

• Looking at your pale and weak figure lying in the infirmary, he thought about how much danger he had put you through. Regrets came washing over him. Initially, he thought it was fun and entertaining to watch your fearless gait. But now, he could hear alarms ringing in his head whenever he thinks you are in danger. In some magical and mysterious manner, somehow, he became smitten for you.

• Ever since then after you recovered, Floyd seemed to have a flipped his treatment of you. He would protect you fiercely from even the smallest threats, growling and even resorting to violence even at small teasings people do to you.

• He finally felt as if he had something he needed to do, something motivating him. He had to protect you even if he had to resort to violence and intimidation. He finally got a spark in his heart and he would do his all to protect this spark. Finally, something he could not get bored of. If you aren't scared by his actions, that means you allowed him to do so, right?

• Shrimpy ignited something in him, so you better accept it, okay?

Kalim Al Asim

• Hm? He doesn't understand it. What do you mean you can't feel fear?

• Even after explaining it to him, he still does not understand it.

• That is, until you were kidnapped because of him. When he found you all battered up but yet lighting up when you see him. He had questioned you all the essentials. Why didn't you scream? Why didn't you call for help? Why do you still look so... okay about this situation?

• You chuckled as you joke. "At least I wasn't killed or hit so badly."

• Kalim stared at you for awhile before getting reminded of what you had told him before.

• Ever since then, he decided to take your safety into his own hands, having bodyguards around you and even giving you your own aide so that you could be protected. He just wanted to keep you safe, so please allow this of him, alright?

• Privacy? Is that more important than your safety, darling?

[cecilxa]

lasting childhood dream/sweetly shared future

summary: ever since you were little, alhaitham knew what he wanted.

contents: childhood friends!au, fluff, ambiguous relationship at the end (although implied romantic), gn!reader (they/them pronouns used), soft soft alhaitham

cw: food

wc: 1k

a/n: so so sorry for the slow updates :') things will (hopefully !) be picking up momentum again 🤞

“Hey, Haitham.”

Your high-pitched voice calls out to him. He chooses to ignore it. 

“Hey! Haitham! Are you purposely ignoring me cause you wanna read? Again?”

A crease forms at his eyebrows–an action that a nine-year-old should never have gotten used to as often as he did–and his hands tighten around the pages of his book. You always did this. Nearly every day, you would choose to sit next to him. He can’t even remember when it started, but soon enough, you had proclaimed him your ‘best friend for life’. 

For a child prodigy like Alhaitham, it’s extraordinary how he has no idea why you’ve chosen him to be your designated play partner. You don’t even play like the other kids. He just sits there, reading his book, and you sit there with him, chatting incessantly about whatever it is you want–not like he cares, anyway. (It was food on Monday, an interesting flower you found on Tuesday, and food again on Wednesday.)

He’s never asked you why, and you’ve stuck with him long enough for him to be satisfied with not knowing. It’s not like he’s not curious; he just finds his books more interesting. 

“Well, since you’re not answering, I guess I’ll just find someone else to play with!” 

You harrumph, turning your head away. However, since you don’t make any move to physically get up, Alhaitham doesn’t look up from the slightly-yellowed pages that he hasn't noticed he's crinkling. 

But then, the unthinkable happens. Legs that were previously lounging beside him begin to unfold and rise, a shadow forming over his head. It takes him the time for you to fully stand up for him to comprehend what was happening. His crease deepens further. 

“Wait.”

On instinct, one of his hands that was holding onto his book clasps onto yours, his head bowed down. His fringe hides his face, which, for once–however annoying it may be–he’s grateful for, as it means you can’t see the blush readily spreading across his cheeks. Pretending to be more interested in dragon fights and swordsmanship, he all but whispers. 

“Stay. I like it better when you’re here.”

Your eyes lighten up, and a large smile breaks out across your face. 

“I like it when you’re with me too! And I wasn’t actually gonna leave you. I just wanted to get us some sweets!” 

“Oh.”

If he wasn’t already thankful for his fringe, he definitely is now, what with the embarrassment he’s being forced to endure. You can still probably see his ears, which he can feel burning up. Not replying, he lets go of your hand–almost abruptly–and lets you skip away to the local sweets vendor that always exudes a sugary smell. 

He watches you all the way. The sun’s shining brightly on your skin, making it glow. Your toothy grin still pervades his mind, and he can feel the blush on his cheeks that never seems to go away whenever you’re around. Or maybe that’s the heat. But then why is his heart doing backflips? And why do those backflips increase in speed when he looks down at the hand that was held in yours? He thinks that they fit perfectly, like two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, and (as much as he doesn’t want to admit it) that he wants you to be around him. 

“Stupid thoughts. I only tolerate them because they’re my only friend.”

He chooses to ignore the other thought that his heart seems to tell. 

“They’re my only friend. But I don’t mind, because I really only care about them.”

After a few minutes, you come back with that same toothy grin, carrying an assortment of sweet treats for the both of you to devour in only a few seconds. They all blend together into a saccharine scent. 

“Look, try this one, Haitham! The person said it was a new flavour!”

He accepts it immediately, taking it gently from your hand and putting it into his mouth. It explodes with flavour–nutty and aromatic, nothing like the sugary syrup of the others. A small and satisfied smile creeps onto his face, his eyes failing to hide his delight. It does get stuck, however, as he tries to get parts of it dislodged from the gaps in his teeth. A giggle interrupts him.

“Haitham, you look really funny! Y’know, I want to have a sweet shop when we’re grown up so that I can make all the sweets you want! Then we can have fun together even when we have to do grown-up, boring stuff.”

You remember to be considerate, and turn to him.

“What about you, Haitham? What do you wanna be when you’re grown up?”

–

Alhaitham doesn’t remember exactly what he said after. Probably a scholar. All he can remember is younger him staring blatantly, mouth gaping open at your questioning eyes, and his heart pounding at your mention of ‘we’. The realisation that you felt the same way as him left him astounded. In that moment, he felt something bloom in his chest, something that he’s carried all these years. 

Although he’s not sure whether you ever fully understood how much of a soft spot he had for you. You never even noticed how his headphones were always on the ground, rather than on his head, whenever you were around. 

Now, reading his book peacefully, he looks down at his lap and allows himself to smile. You’re going to wake up with a sore neck if he keeps you in this position for much longer, but just for a moment, he wants to admire you. 

Alhaitham strokes your hair tenderly, moving it out of your face, nimble fingers caressing your jawline. His eyes soften. How much you’ve meant to him. The years that he’s known you for don’t compare to the amount of gazes he’s thrown your way, so full of youthful longing and yearning. Because ever since you said ‘we’, he’s been able to answer your question. Maybe not in the exact same way he did all those years ago, but an answer that’s been stewing for every year after. 

“When I grow up, I want to be by your side.”

a/n: he’s grown on me i can’t lie 😔 enemies to lovers though 😍😍 likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated !! 🩷🩷 (pink heart for iOS finally!)

[pogueswrld]

*•.¸♡ make up sex ♡¸.•*

pairing: fred weasley x fem!plus-sized!reader

summary: Freddie talks too much, and his girlfriend is exhausting all the ways she knows to shut him up. Softly, of course.

warnings: smut🦢!1!1!1!1! there's plot and fluff, and everyone's of age ofc, although it is hinted that reader is still in Hogwarts, kinda sub!Fred top!reader, like he's whining and panting and begging and shit (bites lip) ANYWAY, dick riding hehe, no usage of y/n.

note: it is 2:59 pm on a Friday, let's see how fast I write this shit. note 0.2: Okay so it's 5:54 pm on the same day, I think I'm done. This isn't edited, but it took me 3 hours to write 😁

He was still talking. Why, in the name of Merlin, was he still talking?

Dating Fed Weasley is fun, there's no denying that, but Good Heavens isn't that a boy a handful. Both literary and figurative. He's got a wide imagination, a never-squelching desire for knowledge, and a big heart. That is a dangerous combination for a somewhat intelligent and never-quiet man.

She's a saint, his girlfriend, and Ginny made a point to always express that to her. "How do you put up with that all the time?" Gesturing to Fred, who was using his hands in elaborate motions as he went on his fourth rant of the morning on the same subject to George. She'd only shrug, lips engulfing another spoonful of whatever ice cream the girls were sharing. "In one ear and out the other darling."

Not to say that she hates it, or that it bothers her- quite the opposite actually. Fred's excited and hyper personality is what made him so interesting to her, it was what drew her to him in the first place. She enjoys listening to him rant, even about the most random things -he stopped her the other day and explained in great detail how penguins mate and how once the female accepts the male's proposing gestures, they're together for life- and she adores it.

Yes, it sure can be a bit much at times, but she wouldn't change it for the world. Imagine loving a man who was as boring and dry as his older brother, Percy? She would have to jump out of Ginny's bedroom window!

Today was her first day back in the Burrow from Hogwarts for summer break, and she was exhausted, to say the least. She was up from dawn, finishing up the last bits of her packing before leaving for the train station with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. And because she's a good friend, she made sure each of her friends made it to their transportation safely before she and Ron were picked up by Fred and George.

In the car, Ron opened the untameable can of worms by mentioning Bill who was staying over at the Burrow for the summer as well, taking a couple of months' worth of vacation away from the dragons and such. That was the spark Fred needed to blast off into a hundred rants one after the other.

He spoke about seeing Bill again, which is understandable, he hasn't been home in years. He spoke about the dragons, which led to his excited mention of his favorites and how he's going to ask Bill how it was training them. Then he turned to Quidditch training, and even though both him and George had left Hogwarts a year or so ago, the both of them still found time to play the game as a side hobby. After that was all done, George gave her and Ron and update on the shop, and Fred went on and on about all kinds of new candies and flavors and combinations they were working on to add to the store by the beginning of next year.

She was understandably tired by the time the Burrow came into view. And as much as she adores her boyfriend, she needed him to shut the fuck up for twenty minutes. But he's so sweet, and his eyes light up when talking, and he gets this beautiful energy surrounding him when he does it that she doesn't have the nerve to ask him to be silent for a bit. So she excuses herself and tries to bury her body under the covers of his bed.

But he finds her there, and he reports to her that dinner is ready, and that Bill is here, and that she looks so gorgeous on his bed, and that there's a strange animal in the backyard, and that Ginny tried to curse the bathroom when he went in to use it, and that he doesn't understand why she'd do that, and that George is out in the garage, and that-

She jolts up on his bed, her eyes twitching as she stares at him. He looks so beautiful, but he's talking too damn much. She cups his face, and he goes silent and stares at her with wide eyes.

"Wha'?" He mumbled, his lips squished together as she squeezed his cheeks.

"You talk too much, ya' know that?" She said, her thumb slightly caressing the apples of his cheeks.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "Do' it bothe' yo'?"

She giggles breathlessly and lets go of his face before pressing her lips tightly against his. "Not all the time, but times like today..." She rests her forehead against his and sighs, "It can be a lot, and I need you to read the room and tone it down a little bit, d'ya think you can do that for me?"

He stares, something in his gaze changes, and he nods. "Of course, baby. Whateva' you want."

Great. Now she feels bad. She sighs and pushes past the blankets swallowing her to sit up on her knees. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, truly love you, and I don't mean to be mean to you, and you know I love it when you ramble, but I'm really overwhelmed today, darling. I'm sorry."

Fred wraps his arms around her waist in return, hugging her tightly. It's true that he can't always read the room, and now that he's no longer attending school he's got much more free time on his hands than he knows what to do with. It takes him a couple days to be able to read his girlfriend's body language like he used to once she's home from school, and he feels terrible that he was one of the reasons for making her feel so incredibly overwhelmed. He also feels slightly ashamed of his non-stop rambling all day.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, mumbling something into her skin that made her shiver and giggle away from him. "Stop," she breathes in a giggle, "It tickles."

He chuckles, his hands squeezing at the skin of her waist as he stares at her dreamily. "I said, I'm sorry I made you feel overwhelmed, I promise to try and do better."

She grins at him, so brilliantly, that he can't help but lean down and capture her lips in a soaring kiss. "I love you." He mumbles against her lips, and she smiles while trying to kiss him back. "C'mon now, love, let's go have dinner."

Her eyes darken; her pupils widen, and she smiles that mischievous grin that he adores so much, and he groans while throwing his head back. He knows exactly what is on her mind.

"I have a better idea." She whispers, giggling as she throws herself into his lap and kisses him with such force that she's pushing him down on his bed. He yelps, his hands traveling to the bed and her waist, holding on to her for stability. Bubbling heat travels across his body through her kiss, and he sighs when her cold fingertips trace down his arms, sending goosebumps across his body.

Her kisses transfer from his lips to the sides of his mouth, his cheeks, down his jawline, until she's pampering open-mouthed kisses across his neck like stardust.

He sighs, his eyes closed and his head thrown back on the pillow. "Please," He breathed, a low whine undertoning his voice. She shivers above him, her teeth grazing his skin in a teasing bite.

She's always hated the effect his voice has on her.

"Please what, darling?"

He whines. It's low, for her ears only, it's a barely-there breath, but his mouth is right next to her ear and she hears him loud and clear. Her panties dampen almost immediately.

"Please touch me," He whispers. His hands gripped tightly to her thighs. He knows better than to roam her body without permission. She pulls back slightly, blinking up at him with a soft smile and long lashes. "But I am touching you, Freddie."

He knows this game. This cruel, cruel game she adores to play. He whines in pretentious of hating his role, but his hips buck, and his cock twitches underneath the fabrics of his boxers and trousers.

He slowly traces one of his hands from her thighs to her palm before letting her fingers rest on his aching cock. He guides her hands to gently rub him through his clothes and he lets out a breath when her fingers squeeze around him. "Touch me there." He gasps.

She entertains him, allowing him to set the pace and buck into her hold. He releases deep breaths and low whines, stuttering moans every time she tightens her grip around him. She can feel herself getting wetter by the second, how his eyes are shut desperately, his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and her name is gasped out of his throat with every other movement. It makes her feel powerful, it makes her entire being vibrate.

"That's enough." She mumbles, pulling her hand out of his grasp and bathing in his complaining whines as she pulls off her shirt. He blinks up at her, watching her boobs bounce in the push-up bra she's wearing before she unhooks it and slides it off her shoulders. He blinks again and swallows whatever drool and saliva has gathered in his mouth, causing his Adam's apple to pop along with the action. She smiles at the sight and quickly bends down to leave a swift kiss on it.

"Take off your shirt." She commands him, and he does so without hesitation, throwing the garment somewhere on the floor of the room he shares with his twin brother. He watches her hands intensely as she teases him by running her thumb on the inside of her trouser's elastic, before slowly pulling the item down and off. He groans at the sight of his favorite panties on her; a partially lacey red thong that settles up between her butt cheeks. She always told him how uncomfortable it made her, but the look on his face when he saw it on her made every second she spent wearing it worth it.

"You're trying to kill me, love?" He groans, daring himself to take a dangerous leap and push his thumb against the damp cloth, pushing down on where he knows her clit hides. He glances up at her, watching the way her lips part and her mouth hangs open at his action.

"And what am I to tell George when he asks? Death by a red thong?"

He grins up at her, picking up the speed at which he's rubbing on her bud of nerves. "Only if you're the one wearing it."

She shudders, forcefully holding herself back from grinding against his thumb. Instead, she grips his wrist and pushes it away from her. She hooks two fingers on each side of his trousers and boxers before meeting his eyes, watching as he licks his lips and nods before pulling the clothing items down his hips and legs.

His cock bounces out from underneath the fabric happily, it smacks against his lower abdomen and she giggles at the sight of precum beads rolling down his slit. He whines, throwing his arm on his face to cover the embarrassing blush that matched his hair color. "Don't laugh at me, why're you so mean to me today?"

Her giggle grows louder, and she leans down to push his arm off his face. "I never intend on being mean to you, my darling, you just bring it out of me. I'm sorry." She mumbles as she meets his gaze, her hand cupping one side of his face and he leans towards her touch. "Don't hide from me, yeah?"

He nods.

"Good boy."

He whines, his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw drops when her fingers wrap around him again, but her thumb is collecting his precum before spreading it down his length before she works a steady rhythm going up and down. His whines slowly turn into moans. His noises were so heavenly that she could swear her wetness was flowing through the fabric of her thong and onto the skin of her thighs.

She sees his muscles contracting and she stops, removing her hand from him altogether. He opens his eyes, blinking up at her in confusion as a noise of complaint slips out of his throat. But he swallows it back up when he sees her push her thong to the side and spread her folds before sitting on his length, and she grinds back and forth on him without actually allowing him access to her.

He groans, throwing his head back. She's coating him in her juices and there's a delicious squelching noise coming from between them and it's driving him insane. He sucks air into his lungs through clenched teeth and shudders when she allows a single moan to slip through her parted lips.

Suddenly, he's engulfed in her warmth and he hisses. His hands grip tightly to her thighs, hips, and any plump skin he can find. He squeezes her, hissing, and pants until he's sheathed completely inside of her. "Slow down," He gasps, "Slow- slow down, slow down, slow down." His voice turns from low breaths to almost high-pitched whines, and she leans down and captures his lips in a silencing kiss.

"Need you to lay here and keep your pretty mouth shut, darling, can you do that? Can you stay quiet for me so your family doesn't hear us fucking?" He whines, hips bucking into her warm cunt causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head as he nods mindlessly. "Yes, yes, yes. I'll be quiet. Fuck- please, baby, please fuck me."

She giggles at his desperate whines, and slowly rocks her hips back and forth, just enough movement to send pleasure jolts but not enough to get them going. She was testing the waters, trying to see how loud he could get without giving him much of anything.

Fred was losing his mind, he could feel her walls clamp down on him every time she moved back, and he could feel himself nudging against her feel-good spot every time she moved forward. Her wetness made a mess out of both of them, making it easy to slide into her and pick up the pace.

He arched his back slightly, just enough to hint at her to go faster. Because she was starting to feel frustrated, she obliged. She switched from grinding down on him to bouncing, her knees and hips working overtime to not make a noise every time her ass cheeks met his thighs.

She's now moaning, leaning down to muffle her noises by his neck or breathe them directly into his ear. Fred's eyes roll to the back of his head every time, and his hands grab onto the fat of her hips to help her.

"I-" She gasps, pushing herself upwards, clamping down on him tightly before forcing deep thrusts with her movement. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpers, and her legs begin to shake and fail her. Fred let out a loud breath that turned into a whimper before pushing himself up and, with a tight hold of her hips, forced her up and down his cock.

"Wa- wanna feel you. Wanna feel you gush around me. Give it to me, please." He whines, his words muffled into her temple, his eyes closed as her walls flutter around him, her body shivering against him and her lips part in long whines. One of his hands sneaked in between them, and his thumb drew quick circles around her clit, just enough to electrify her over the edge.

She freezes up, squeezes down on him and Fred is gone. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly down on him, the repeated squeeze of her walls stimulated him over the edge and they were shaking through their highs together. Her hands were buried in his hair, his hands holding onto her hips, while their lips interlocked in an overflowing kiss.

A few seconds later, their mouths parted as they gasped for air, holding onto one another as their highs dwindled. He traced random shapes on her bare back while she scratched at his scalp in a way she knew he loved.

He was the first to pull back, looking up at her with nothing but love and adoration. He tilts his head and grins, "Do you still want to go down for dinner?"

She laughs, heartily and loudly out of his arms and back onto the bed. "If you'll be going downstairs for a plate, get me one with you. There's no way I can look your mum in the eye after this."

[yzzart]

imagine daemon and rhaenyra’s pretty daughter, who has such a close bond with her brothers, jace and luke (like in your ‘now im here, with you’ fic). never far from them, hugging them, holding their hands. and in return, they’re incredibly overprotective of her.

and then there’s aemond, driven wild with jealously 🤭

— Flavor of a jealous dragon.

© do not repost or translate !

characters: Aemond Targaryen x (F)Targaryen!reader.

summary: witnessing one of your brother's trainings, you can witness the jealousy of a dragon.

warnings: incest, explicit language, explicit words.

word count: 2.978!

english's not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!

"It's so strange to see him fighting the wind."

The youngest prince whispered, in a peaceful, mocking way, for you. Your lips couldn't resist trying to prevent a knowing smile, finding your younger brother's speech funny, from appearing quickly.

Really, it was strange to see a person with a sword Indeed, it was strange to see a person with a sword slashing only the wind and pretending that there was a person there, but you wanted to support your little brother.

"He's doing fine." — You uttered the words as you returned to stare at a little Jacerys training session. He was practicing alone, at that time. Some guards suggested training him, but your brother decided for himself that he preferred solo training. — And it was impossible to disagree that he was doing very well.

And Jace, insistently, decided to train in the sacred grove. It didn't matter to him if the place he chose might be a little too small to fight with his sword, he decided and is getting what he wanted. — With each sudden, swift step, the admirable leaves of pure red hue, which lay on the ground, moved in accordance with Prince Velaryon's feet.

You felt pride in being able to witness your brother demonstrate his skills and new ways of fighting. — In fact, it was much more interesting than being locked inside your chambers or going through several meetings about the future of the throne. — And seeing Jace increasingly become a worthy fighter was important to you.

"I think you should train too." — Taking your eyes and attention away from Jacerys, you begin to glare at Lucerys; that when he feels you staring at him, he lowers his head. — "Luke…" — The velaryon mumbled something it wasn't possible to understand.

"I don't think i should and i can't see myself fighting with dignity." — He muttered with his tone of voice of sadness mixed with indifference. That mix had a name and it was insecurity, and you knew what it was about like no one else.

The feeling of insecurity dominated Luke's mind, it was like a plague; words he once said to her. The feeling of insecurity dominated Luke's mind, it was like a plague; words he once said to you. — One thing that sometimes dominated him more than usual and sometimes fear joined in and brought a heavy and confused mix of feelings.

Having the rank of old sister, you know your brothers and sisters like the back of your hand. — Like a dragon with its rider. — And witnessing all the events with all of them, you get a sense of how much and how all the feelings came to them and with Luke it couldn't be the other way around.

And you knew Luke hated picking up a sword, even if it was in self-defense and that had happened once before. — And ended up with a person missing an eye. — And that person was Aemond, your uncle and your lover.

You tasted and found out what the word love meant with Aemond. It wasn't just a common feeling, that he was not worth your time or lost your focus on strengthening your family. It was more than that.

Living between complete love and hate is not an easy thing to live with and witness, it felt like a punishment from the good gods. A punishment that will always haunt you.

Lucerys did not harbor a sense of anger or indignation over your relationship with the man he'd blinded in one eye, on the contrary, he respected you. — He looked up to you, always will, and also always respects your decisions and feelings.

"You deserved to be happy." little Lucerys had spoken those words to you.

However, that did not mean that the relationship between Aemond and Lucerys could improve. — Only the good gods, who all begged for the blessing and good life, knew what would happen between those two worthy princes who shared the same house.

"I think otherwise." — A quick and pure response was directed at the prince. — "Dignity has always been with you and in you, Lucerys." — You directed your hand to the side of the youngest's head, intending to make a small and simple caress. — "Since the day you were born."

The last words almost came out as a whisper. Your voice had shown a certain weakness because of the feeling of emotion that was growing in you. Seeing your little brother like that broke your heart, and it seemed that there was no miracle cure or medicine that could heal that pain.

Your fingers passed through the youngest's brown locks, showing more than simple and meaningful affection. — Lucerys needed this. He needed support, and he didn't want to hoard those fears just for himself.

"My dear little brother." — You plead, beg the youngest Velaryon to look into your eyes. Deep down, you knew Luke was fighting himself not to meet your eyes, afraid of a reprimand or complaint.

In long seconds, Lucerys decides to turn his head in your direction and soon, his blue eyes, with the pigmentation of the ocean, e of the youngest meets your eyes the color of pure purple. — His eyes looked so empty yet searching for a lifeline at the same time.

"You are my point of pride." — You said. — "With sword or not, you are still worthy of everything about you and around you."

A small smile, shy but a little contagious, formed A small smile, shy but a little infectious, formed on Lucerys's short lips. — It was already a good start. — You didn't stop smiling at the boy.

The uncomfortable, sad and tired image of Lucerys from before was gone in a matter of seconds, and you never felt so good about your brother in your entire life. — The good gods were recognizing that.

"Kirimvose, issa mandia" (Thank you, my sister.) — The thick accent during the Valyrian lines was uttered from Lucerys's mouth. The fact that Lucerys was more confident with his High Valyrian than Jacerys was was funny to you. — But, you always kept it to yourself.

Lucerys didn't intervene or stop the small, light movements, the petting you were giving him, in his head. He was enjoying that attention and time with you. — You noticed it, of course, but you didn't think to remove your hand from there.

In a matter of seconds, you started to feel like you were being watched. — Well, you were watched everywhere, by the guards who looked after you and your life, and by the civilians. — But at that moment it was a strange thing. A strange feeling. — Maybe it was in your head, or it must be the stress you've been going through lately, so you decided to ignore it for a while.

"Is spending time with my older sister or does that only go for the younger brother?" — Jacerys's voice exclaimed in your ears, snapping you out of your worried thoughts.

How long had Jace stopped his training?

"Oh, shut up." — Luke grumbled, not caring about his brother's joke. Jacerys just laughed and didn't want to upset his brother any further, and quickly noticed his scowl and put it in his mind that he should ask what was going on with him later. — "Can we go? I feel like i'm going to get dizzy if i see you spinning alone with your sword one more time."

Lucerys couldn't hide the feeling of boredom and weariness that had been building in his body since the minute he arrived. The youngest, at that moment, preferred to spend time locked in his rooms.

"I was so bad..." — The words that were ready to come out of Jacerys' mouth end up being interrupted. It was a somewhat disturbing surprise for you, to the point that it drew your eyes towards the young man.

It looked like he had seen something that bothered him in a bitter way. The expression that fit Jacerys's face was one of disgust, mixed with anger and you were ready to question what had happened or what had passed through his eyes.

"Mandia." (Sister.) — The thick accent with a weak but understandable pronunciation slips, purposefully, from Jacerys's mouth. He didn't change his expression even when calling you and also, he didn't look away to the specific point that angered him. — And your thought, or perhaps a sign from the gods, left a small certainty about who would be there.

Without questioning, or letting a miserable word escape your mouth, you decided to turn around and find out at once who had angered your brother. — And maybe, who was watching you the whole time.

With his costume made of pure leather and severely sewn and well worked, with its pigmentation of pure black; the young man who was feared by all in the region and recognized by the kingdoms, was present there. — Probably, witnessing his nephew's training but that wasn't why he was there.

Aemond watched, from afar, what looked like a small meeting between brothers, even though you were totally different. And he didn't even make a miserable fuss or try to hide the look he held. — It wasn't easy to figure out the kind of look the one-eyed young man was delivering but you can be sure that when his one eye passed by you, he was left with pure admiration and enchantment.

You were staring back at him but fighting, in a strong and resistant way, a smile that even you couldn't explain. — And it would be so embarrassing to make the mistake of being happy with his presence in front of your brothers, you thought.

Aemond's posture was rigid, more serious than usual, it was as if something had bothered him too and it wasn't the nephew's attempt to subpoena with just the look. — That would never happen. — And he didn't want to appreciate what made him that way, and without delay, he decided to walk to leave the place.

And you knew how to recognize the fury of that dragon and you felt that you had to go to him.

"You'd better stay here." — You uttered an order, but not in a stern tone of voice or so strong as to startle them the wrong way. Jacerys wasn't going to question, or even say anything about, your decision and you understood that. — Lucerys was no different from his brother and remained silent, and only a brief sigh escaped his mouth.

Your eyes swept over the Velaryon brothers, a silent farewell to them for that moment. The anger and disgust had drained from Jacerys's face, returning to his neutral expression but with sensitivity because of you. — Moving your lips, you say "Avy jorrāelan." (I love you.) directly to each one.

"We'll be here for anything, remember that." — Jace warned you with determination

Leaving that part of the woods, your steps, with the joint of your long dress, end up taking some red leaves but not preventing or disturbing you to your greatest focus. — But you fear that the end of your dress might be a little filthy and you try not to think about that possibility too much.

In keeping with your quickening steps, the fewer servants and guards you observed and encountered during your little journey to find your lover. An urge to ask one of them where the one-eyed prince could have gone crossed your mind but you decided not to. — And when you least expected it, your vision has the privilege of finding the image of the oldest's back.

According to the wind speed, which was a little strong, Aemond's pure white hair moved.

There were no guards around that part, and you didn't find that strange; Aemond could have asked for time alone and that was understandable. — And it was a good time for the two of you to have some alone time too.

Your steps weren't as precise as before and you weren't as nervous, not in a bad way but completely different. But your heart was pounding and it was amazing how Aemond's presence, and just one look, could move you and your body. — A lump felt like it wanted to form in your throat but you knew you had to fight it.

"Aemond?" — You beat yourself up, mentally, for the small moment where her voice called out to you with a weak edge. A bad time for this to happen; but for your old lover, your voice came out perfectly sweet and woke him up instantly.

Your voice woke Aemond from all bad thoughts or those that led him to a dark feeling, a feeling where he wasn't recognizing himself in some stupid moments. You brought him back to his consciousness with just your voice. — No one from all the kingdoms conquered by your ancestors, not even the one-eyed prince's own family could know that he felt that way in love with you, his niece.

An uncle and niece in love. House Targaryen, the house of dragons, had seen this for so long and you had compassion to see your parents having the same story and look what happened. — Like parents, like daughter.

"I came to think you were going to be with those boys." — Without completely turning his head in your direction, leaving only a part of his face in your field of vision, Aemond utters those long words trying not to show what, in fact, he was feeling. You, in the same miserable second, understood what was corrupting the oldest

Aemond was jealous and under the circumstances, you were surprised and a little disturbed by what was going on around you. You knew that just questioning or pressing what he was feeling would not work and could make the small situation worse for the two of you. — And Aemond needed your attention and care.

"ñuha jorrāelagon." (My dear.) — Going towards him, you place your hands on the side of his face. You felt Aemond's body shudder with your touch and it couldn't be your hand, which was at a slightly warm temperature, but it was the feeling of being touched by you.

The prince's one good eye not only stared at her but admired you. The way an amethyst-colored eye took in every point and line of your face and claimed you were a painting made, delicately, by the good gods. — The Targaryens were closer to gods than men and Aemond was sure in that moment that he was being touched by an angel, that even he considered you a goddess.

"I hate the idea of ​​having you away from me." — Aemond quickly looked away from her but for a short, brief moment. — "And having to watch those damn kids with you is the worst thing i could ever face in my own house."

When he mentioned his nephews, Aemond didn't think twice about venting all his anger and contempt. He had reasons to feel that way, to corrupt himself like that, and you hated to see him that way. — And it hurt just as much to see your brothers like that too.

And it was right there that Aemond gave up hiding the jealousy that was completely dominating his body.

"I'm here with you, aren't i?" — Your hand, which was being held beside Aemond's face, made a lingering caress to get his attention and regain his focus. Immediately, the elder's single eye meets your eyes again. — "I won't hold back your feelings, Aemond, but i hate to see you like this."

The sincerity in your words calmed him down a bit, letting his posture soften for a little while.

"And they're my brothers, and my duty as an older sister is to care for and protect them." — It was necessary to mention this. It was necessary to disassemble Aemond that he didn't need to feel jealous over that circumstance. — "But you're the man i love, and the man i gave myself completely to."

The last words that came out of your mouth, filled the void that was starting in Aemond's head. An emptiness he was beginning to understand there was no need for. — He might not understand or at least care about the mention of his nephews but that statement of you, was all he needed most.

"I love you and i will always love you." — You ended with your sweet statement. The words of pure honesty were carefully directed towards her lover, always being interrupted.

In the blink of an eye, in such a quick moment of time, Aemond wasted no time in bringing your lips to his. The kiss was formed in a surprising way for you, not only by the quick movement he implanted but you felt the mixture of feelings that Aemond was going through during the act. — Passion, admiration, a little anger, were in the middle of that kiss. It was easy to feel.

One of Aemond's hands roamed around your waist and lingered there, only a brief grip was left by him. It was a delicate, honest moment with pure passion, so it wasn't necessary to turn it into something more illicit at that time. — The hand that was left was glued to the side of your face, as you were doing to him.

Aemond didn't want to take his hands off you, he didn't want to lose you between his fingers. The sensation of touching you, your face, or even your waist covered by the long garment, was fascinating for the feared prince. — If you count, the feel of your sweet, so soft lips against his.

Aemond is the man you loved, and no one could tell you otherwise or try to stop your burning passion for him. The man who made you discover what the word "love" meant. — And he was the dragon who would die and kill and face anything and everything for you.

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my sweet angel babies! Thank you all for the love and kind words! Here is another chapter, now there are going to be two perspectives in this, so when you get to the end, you will see what I am talking about hehe. Enjoy ! &lt;3

Chapter 87: The Other Woman

Days float by as your anger continued to simmer.

Your visits to the Gardens became frequent, irritated energy bouncing through your body, leaving your nights to be restless. And yet to your surprise, Aegon was nowhere to be seen.

You had thought that with his sudden dismissal of his brother to Harrenhal at the news of your pregnancy, that he would make himself present. 

And yet, he hadn't. 

And when Aemond had returned a few short days later to the Red Keep, you had been just as surprised once more. 

Was this a test? 

The two brothers working in tandem to see what you would do?

Or was Aemond's visit truly shortened by his desire to come back to you?

When Aemond arrived back to Kings Landing, his demeanour had shifted once again. He walked around you carefully, chose his words with even more care, and had even refrained from touching you. It was as though he was waiting for you to make the first move. Or maybe he was waiting to you to strike him.

Or perhaps the Prince was waiting for you to respond to the letter you had not read.

When the Prince had returned, you had been seated at the Gardens, nibbling upon a honey drizzled slice of pear, the sweet nectar coating your mouth thickly as you gazed out at the water, concentrating hard to see if you could see any speck of Dragonstone or Driftmark. 

A large shadow moved across the water, and you had craned your head to look up, spotting your husbands large, green, war dragon flying atop the Keep. Her mossy wings, torn in some places, and a deep scar along her side shining in the sun, curtesy of Syndor.

Your resentment bubbled at the sight of his return, and you suddenly felt no desire to continue munching upon the many sweets and treats that your maids had insisted upon giving you. You stood, dusting the crumbs that had settled into your lap onto the stone floor and moved with little haste, knowing that Aemond would most likely seek you out as soon as he landed.

You let yourself begin to walk down towards the beach of Kings Landing, brushing your fingertips atop the many different flowers that you passed. It was not until you came across the fragrant rose bushes that you paused in thought. 

Reaching forward, you grasped a large, blooming, blood-red rose, and snapped it from the bush, bringing it up to your nose to inhale deeply. It was a beautiful colour, and from the exact same bush that Aegon had plucked one for you from. 

You smirked.

You continued on your walk, winding down the path until you reached the stone jetty, finding yourself standing deathly still, rose in hand, as you looked out at the water.

You were waiting for the inevitable.

Waiting for him.

For your shadow.

To come seek you out. To speak to you. To see you.

To beg. To plead. To apologise.

Or perhaps, punish you for your temper.

It was not until you heard soft, steady steps behind you, that you knew he had come, just as you had anticipated. 

Aemond had come to straight to you. 

Not to his King. Not the the Lords. Nor the Small Council. Not even to your shared chambers to disrobe. 

The One-Eyed Prince came straight to you from the back of his dragon.

Bringing the rose to your nose, you inhaled again deeply, and hummed. With a cool breath, your voice flitted towards him, not bothering to turn around.

“Didn’t expect to have you back so soon, Aegon. What did Otto want with you?” And with your last word, you spun, rose still raised up to your face to look at your husband that you knew was behind you.

At the sight of him, you dropped the rose limply to your side, “Oh. Aemond.” You sniffed, “You’re back.” 

His brows were already furrowed, “What did Aegon want with you?”

Those were the first words from his lips.

His first words after coming back from his whore.

You saw red. 

Gritting your teeth you spun away, moving to walk back up the path to the Keep and away from the steady rolling waves of the beach. 

“How was the Whore of Harrenhal?” You snipped, taking the steps in lazy strides, unhurried to get away from him as you twirled the rose in view as you passed.

Aemond’s eye flicked to the flower, then back at your face, his jaw tensed.

You continued up on your path, letting your uncle stew in the possibility of you and his brother having spent time together in his absence. The possibility of Aegon courting you with another rose.

And whilst you had expected it, the Prince did not follow you.

Instead, he stayed rooted in his spot at the bottom of the stairs, watching as you slowly walked up them, singular red rose in hand that you brought intermittently up to your nose to smell.

Aemond found you a while later in the Library, clearly desperate to speak to you, his own insecurities about his brother racing in his mind.

He found you seated on one of the armchairs before the fire, tome in lap with the rose tucked behind your ear. The red atop your hair stood out starkly, and brought out the subtle blush of your lips that you nibbled on gently. 

To Aemond, you looked as though you were engrossed in the story, or perhaps your mind was wondering to a certain older uncle as your fingers danced over the long, thorned stem. His approach did not rouse your gaze, for you knew it was him, choosing to ignore his presence all together.

The One-Eyed Prince stood in front of you, his height doubled yours, as you sat primly in the chair. The air in the Library was tense, and you played upon it, a finger tracing the petals of the flower absentmindedly as you continued to ignore him. 

“Y/n.” Aemond spoke lowly, trying to gage your attention, “I didn’t see her. I attended to my duties, and that was all.”

You hummed boredly, before lifting your gaze to him, the Prince’s jaw locked, hand on the pummel of his sword as he looked at you. You let your gaze drop pointedly at the hand, and to your surprise, he released it, dropping his arm down by his side.

“Aemond.” You sighed, standing, shutting the book in your hands as you stepped forward towards him. You thrust the book against his chest, “I don’t believe you.” 

His hand came to grasp the book, ‘The Loves of Queen Nymeria’, as you brushed past him, making your exit from the library as swiftly as possible. Not hearing his footsteps behind you. 

You found your way to the Godswood, where you always found yourself in troubling times, still holding the rose in your hand as you looked up through its branches. 

You hoped that your parents received the raven.

And even prayed to the Gods that they did. 

What would happened?

Would it be done?

Would she be killed?

How would you know if it had happened?

What if they didn’t get your raven?

You swallowed and sat amongst the roots as you always did, needing to clear your mind, your back against the trunk of the tree as you looked up at the light that shone through the leaves. The tree vibrated with the wind, and in that moment, and as through the wind swept away your doubts, you knew they had gotten your raven.

When the sun had begun to lower in the sky, you took yourself back to your chambers, knowing that your husband would be there waiting, and you would have little place to run.

He would talk to you, and you would listen. 

For a time. 

Aemond was just as you had expected him to be, a creature of habit, sitting in his armchair before the fire, goblet of wine in hand. When you entered the chambers, his head had lazily turned to look at you, eye grazing up and down your body before pausing on the rose you held in your hands. You moved across the chambers and placed it on the small table beside your bed, sighing. 

With contagious irritation, you moved to the side of the room and poured yourself a goblet of wine, sitting opposite Aemond on the chaise as you rose the cup to your lips, sipping the strong spiced red, anger simmering beneath your skin. 

Though, it seemed as though Aemond had bitten off his tongue, and the two of you sat in silence before the warmth of the fire, words unspoken, until the maids entered to light the candles of the chambers, and shortly after, bring your dinner.

You both moved to eat together, a tension filled silence engulfing the room. The quiet chewing and sipping was drowned out by the ever rising beat of your heart in your ears as you looked at him.

You were furious, and angry at the little part of yourself that was relieved to have him back.

Aemond placed his cutlery down onto his plate politely, sensing your heated gaze upon his face. How you wished you punch him in the side of his mouth. To dig your fingers into the cavity where his eye once sat. If only you ha-

“I did not see her.” His voice cut through the tension, and you swallowed thickly, placing your own cutlery atop your plate as you reached forward to grasp your wine. You took a gulping sip as you watched him from over the rim, waiting for him to undoubtedly continue. 

“Kīvin zijo va se Jaes Uēpys se se Sīkuda.” I swear it on the Old Gods and the Seven.

You huffed, taking the goblet from your lips, "Nyke jorepagon pōnta pryjagon ao ilagon syt aōha pirtra.” I pray they strike you down for your lies.

Aemond sneered, "Gaoman daor pirtir. Daor naejot ao. Dōrī naejot ao.” I do not lie. Not to you. Never to you.

You hummed, sipping again, “Pār īlon kessa ūndegon lo iksā pryjatan ilagon iā daor.” Then we shall see if you are struck down or not.

Aemond’s hand on the table twitched, “Kesan daor ūndegon zirȳla arlī, nyke teptan ao ñuha udir.” I will not see her again, I gave you my word.

You pressed the smile away from your lips with a frown. You nodded in agreement, picking up your cutlery again and moved to cut through a steaming piece of meat, dark gravy poured over the top, “Se kostan kivio ao, bona kesā daor.” And I can promise you, you won’t.

You will never see that whore or your bastard child again. 

And it will be because of me.

Aemond nodded, but not because he knew, which made you all the more smug, “Iksā ñuha ābrazȳrys, iksā emare ñuha riña. Ñuha jorrāelagon iksis syt ao, se ao mērī.” You are my wife, you are having my child. My love is for you, and you only.

You let out a bitter laugh, “Should have thought about that before you fucked a child into her, shouldn’t you?”

The Prince stayed silent and went back to his eating, cheek twitching with words to say, but none passed his lips.

"Has the bastard been born yet?" You hummed, stabbing another piece of meat and bringing it to your lips as you chewed, Aemond's gaze darkening.

"No."

"Then how would you know that if you had not seen her?" You blinked at the Prince, biting the inside of your cheeks.

"It would be hard to not notice a chil-"

"A bastard of silver hair in a place where Strong blood once resided. I often think on it," You cut another piece of meat with your knife and fork as you felt Aemond's eye burning a hole in your face, "Would the child look like you, or would it come out resembling a Strong boy."

Aemond did not speak, and so you continued, "For years, my brothers and I, despite my obvious parentage, faced the sharp whispers and gossip fuelled by your mother. Exacerbated by you. And now, you are to have another bastard of your own. And not one that you can easily pass off as Aegon's, if she is truly a Strong."

Resting your chin on your palm, you tilted your head looking at him, "Do you even know if Helaena's children are yours? Or at least one of them? I suspected the twins, but Maelor has Aegon's soft face." You paused, watching anger fall over his face, "I wonder if mine will have it."

Aemond's hands slammed on the table as he looked down at his plate, anger radiating off of him.

"Would it not be a cruel joke from the Gods for you to have sired the King's heirs, and he to have sired yours?"

"That child is mine." He growled.

"I suppose time will tell. The bastard certainly is."

"You mean to provoke me. I have performed my duty as well as I can."

"And yet, your whore is pregnant. Who's duty was that? Certainly not that of a Prince."

Silence moved across the table as he stared at you down his nose.

In disgust.

In anger.

In rage.

"I left you a letter." His voice was impatient, as though the piece of parchment would have explained all.

"What letter?" You cocked your head, feigning ignorance.

His brow was drawn, "I left it on the table."

You raised your eyebrows in mock remembrance, opening your mouth, "Oh." Aemond's face seemed, as though the letter would soothe your only rising resentment.

"I burnt it." You smiled at him widely, and resumed your eating.

Aemond's lips twitched as he looked at you, tongue pressing on the bottom of his lip in agitation.

"Sorry, was it something important?"

Aemond did not respond, hands tightening around his knife and fork, his eye narrowed.

You hummed, chewing a piece of potato slowly before you swallowed, "Anything of importance can surely be spoken to me, and not written down on some parchment like a child writes an apology to his mother."

Aemond tossed his knife and fork onto the table angrily, standing from his chair, hands in fists as he looked at you. You looked up at your uncle, and daintily placed your cutlery atop your plate.

"What are you going to do, Aemond? Hit me? When I am with child?" He blinked down at you, eye flickering to your stomach and back up at your face again, shoulders still tensed.

"I told you when you left, when you broke your word to me. I would never forgive you. You did this. Not me." Your hand pressed to your chest angrily, "I am owed this anger. The Gods will surely forgive me, but will they forgive you?"

Sorrow burrowed its way down your throat as anger crawled up it, you looked at him, and the two met in the middle. A thick and heavy stone that was lodged in your throat that you desperately tried to swallow.

Tears stung your eyes, and you watched as Aemond's anger simmered at the sight of it. Any response that was on the tip of his tongue was lost, and Aemond moved away from you to sit at the fire, singular eye staring into the flames, leaving you to sit at the table alone.

Before long, your meal was over, and your two maids came to clear the table, and ready you for bed, slipping a silk chemise over the top of your head, unbraiding your hair, and letting the thick waves cascade down your back.

Aemond had crawled into bed before you, and you had fluttered about the chambers, delaying the inevitable, and enjoying the way he shifted beneath the sheets watching you as he waited. 

When you went to bed, and settled beneath the sheets, you rolled and turned your back to him, tucking your hands beneath your chin as you fought the urge to not laugh. It was all too much. Too much anger. Too much joy. It got all twisted and mixed together, turning your chest alight. 

You could feel the heat of his gaze from behind you and chose to ignore it, closing your eyes as Aemond blew the remaining candles out beside your bed. The chambers were basked in darkness, and eventually Aemond rolled away from you in a huff. 

A grin peaked through on your lips, hidden in the dark, and soon you fell to sleep.

DRAGONSTONE POV

A few short hours away from the shores of Kings Landing, a raven had finally arrived to Dragonstone. The small, black corvid had made its way across the sea to deliver a message to the Queen.

Queen Rhaenyra had been in her chambers, robe wrapped tightly around her body as Daemon leant his head against the front of her stomach. The once Rogue Prince, seated on an armchair by the fire, his wife standing before him, carding gentle and soft hands through his silver white hair.

"Come to bed, my love." Rhaenyra whispered, hand cupping the older mans cheek.

Daemon lifted his head to look up at the woman he adored, her violet eyes glowing in the light of the fire. She was ethereal. Beautiful. And he loved her more than anything in the world.

His large hands came to grasp at her hips, pulling her forward and into his lap, Rhaenyra straddling her uncle on the large chair. Her hands came to the tops of his shoulders, before skimming up to cradle his face.

"The hour is late." She argued, with no true argument on her lips.

"I did not know there were certain hours in which I could love you." The man smirked, hands rubbing against the flesh of her hips.

As Rhaenyra smiled, she dipped her head to catch Daemon's lips, and a knock came at the door.

Both silver heads turned sharply.

It was late.

And there would be only one reason for such a disturbance.

The pair shared a look before Rhaenyra climbed off the King Consorts lap, moving quickly as she called out to the knight to enter.

Ser Erryk Cargyll pushed through the door, bowing and apologising for the intrusion, his helm off, light brown hair pulled back and away from his face. Daemon came to stand behind his wife, always behind or beside her, to show strength, to show unity.

To be there and support her.

As one.

"There was a raven." The pale hand of the knight moved forward, parchment in his open palm as he gave it to the Queen, who all but snatched it from him.

There was no seal, and the parchment was scrunched and bent. As Rhaenyra opened it, and Daemon moved to stand beside her, they read the short message from their daughter, the Queen's hands tightening on the page.

Rhaenyra stiffened, posture straightening as she looked at the knight before her, "Wake the Maester and the Lords. We have word from the Princess."

The knight bowed, swiftly slipping out of the chambers as Rhaenyra turned to face her husband, who's eyes glinted with a dangerous rage. She could feel the fury that curled around him, and she felt her own burn her just as hotly.

"Go," Came the steady voice of the Queen, her hands dropping to her side, parchment still in one tight fist.

Daemon tilted his head, silver hair shimmering in the chamber light, as though he was unsure of what his wife had said.

Before he could open his mouth to respond, the Queen spoke again, tone final, and anger crackling just beneath.

"Before the Council can talk me out of it."

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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[emsartwork]

ALL OF DAPHNE'S TRANSFORMATIONS. INCLUDING UPDATED NYMPHIX.

Previously Fairy of the Dragon Flame now Fairy of Embers. She doesn't have any transformations others than these because she was fast tracked into the nymphix path, and unlike the winx the majority of fairies don't pursue additional transformations past enchantix. (i think Daphne would be interested in Dreamix tho, so maybe I'll draw that eventually.

Her major color shifted after dying and being revived, which is shown in her winx and enchantix.

other lore and design notes below!

I changed her major color from orange/yellow to more of a teal/green because. she just doesn't look good in yellow I'm sorry I really tried but it wasn't working. Also little updates to her hair color, nothing huge tho. Daphne's primary motifs are a branching "Y" shape and a double oval/tear drop. She's a pants when possible girlie and a one set winger(yes her nymphix looks like it have multiple wings but they all merge into one stem on each side) . Her scars from her Sirenix being ripped out of her caused her winx/enchantix to change a little to cover them(mostly seen in the arms) due to insecurity. Her Dryadix/nymphix flower is a daffodil! because pun Daph-Daff, and Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings (also creativity, energy, resilience, forgiveness and vitality). Her Harpix wings aren't super specificly patterned, but she has darting wings common in small song and seed birds (robins, finches, brown birds etc.) the coloring is referential of a Shrike (also called a Butcher Bird), because Daphne was. incredibly dangerous and if she had sided with the ancestral probably would have been given a moniker similar to Butcher of Domino or Daphne the Slaughterer. (some people do call her these but its mostly among people who dislike Domino/The Royal Family.)

Lore! Daphne doesn't have a great sense of self, she was planned as a necessary successor to Marion/the dragon flame in a period as the ancestral witches were escalating their attacks and search for the dragon flame. Bloom was a back up baby in case both Daphne and Marion got dead and basically worked as intended haha. Daphne was also much more publicly involved in the kingdom than many of the other royals in winx (Stella, Aisha, Krystal and even Galatea to an extent all had rather sheltered upbringings) in a way Daphne is much more like Sky and Thoren in the since that none of them really had the space to develop their own personality outside of their familial duty.

Daphne's 1st winx and enchantixes are as direct a copy of her mom's Enchantix as you can get with transformations, right down to the more greenish tint of her major color. Growing up Marion used her fairy form liberally, so that, combined with being the next Dragon Flame holder left a deep impact on Daphne's subconscious. Daphne was also heavily influenced by Faragonda during her Alfea and Nymphix Quest years, but since she was older this isn't as deep an influence. After being revived, Daphne's years of defining herself as her connection to Bloom causes her major color to shift more blue in response to her trauma. Daphne is slowly starting to develop a sense of self outside of her titles/connections but it's unlikely her major color will shift again unless she has another major trauma.

(for the record the Winx do have trauma over the timeline I have laid out that would potentially cause their major colors to shift but I didn't do that for a couple reasons 1, their colors are iconic and make them easily recognizable as characters; 2, I'm a tired bitch. )

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hi I have a request I’d like to make ^_^

Can you write something where Aemond is a bit shy when he cums, so he’s always burying his face against her neck, but this time reader really wants to see his expressions when he climaxes so she’s on top for the first time. He’s a little taken aback but he can’t deny the view is great. When he almost gets to climaxing he’s like “w-wait! I’m close..!” And she just grabs his jaw, making forced eye contact and proceeds to ride him even harder until he cums.

I LOVE it when people reach out off of anon. Very brave. Much courage.

ANYWAY, your wish is my command. Pls enjoy.

Warnings: As if this needs any. You know there will be smut. NSFW. 18+ Word count: ~1k

Aemond had always been a generous and attentive lover. Despite not having much in the way of sexual experience prior to your marriage, he was a perfectionist and eager to learn. He had spent hours poring over every tome that the Red Keep’s library had to offer on the act of pleasure, and plentiful practice had meant there was never a day that you were left wanting physically.

It had taken a while to convince him to remove his eyepatch in front of you. His claim of “I have no desire to frighten you, my love.” had made your heart ache. He was clearly self conscious of his disfigurement, but you were desperate to see all of him. The night that he had finally relented and allowed you to lift it from his face had been a tender moment for you both. You had pressed gentle kisses to his scar and reassured him that you loved all of him, he didn’t need to hide any parts of himself from you.

Despite this, one of those frustrating factors for you in your marriage to the One-Eyed Prince was that during the act of love he would always hide his face from you at the point of climax. Either by burying his face in the crook of your neck if you lay below him or throwing his head back if he took you from behind. You knew it was fuelled by his insecurity regarding his eye and it bothered you that there was still an element of discomfort for him in your relationship. You were determined to fix it.

You’d tried to outsmart him one morning, sliding down the bed to take him into your mouth, watching his face carefully as you’d bobbed your head back and forth along his thick length. However, as he’d reached the apex of his pleasure, he’d turned his head away into the pillows, leaving you with a mouthful of his spend and an overbearing sense of exasperation.

A week later the two of you lay together in your marital bed, each of you on your side, facing each other. The ever increasing passion of your kisses and the way Aemond’s hands roam the curves of your body make it explicitly clear where things are headed. An idea strikes you.

Hooking a leg over Aemond’s hip, you roll him onto his back, sitting astride his hips.

A slight raise of his eyebrow, that would have been imperceptible to anyone else, lets you know that your actions have shocked your husband and you grin down at him.

“What are you doing, dōna ābrazȳrys?” He asks curiously. Sweet wife.

“Just trying something different, my dragon.” You purr back.

His right eye watches with keen interest as you reach between your bodies, positioning his hardened cock at your entrance before sinking down slowly.

You gasp at the stretch of him and the unexplored depth and angle. This is a new position for both of you, but it is not an unwelcome sensation. From the sharp inhale through his nose that Aemond takes as he grits his teeth, you can tell that he’s enjoying it too.

Gingerly, you begin to grind your hips back and forth against his. Unsure of what you are doing, your lack of experience causes you to hesitate, so you are grateful when Aemond grasps your hips and helps your movements along as he thrusts up into you.

His right eye drinks in the sight of you appreciatively as you ride him. From the contorted expression of pleasure on your face, to the bounce of your breasts and the roll of your hips against his. “Vok.” He whispers, as you move above him. Perfect.

His praise instills you with renewed confidence and you move your hips faster, harder, until Aemond’s grip on you tightens, his breathing becoming ragged. The familiar tensing of his abdominal muscles and pulsating of him inside of you are all you need to feel to know he is close to his end. You smirk down at him.

Panic washes over his features as he attempts to turn his face away. “No, no, I’m close!” He groans.

“I know.” You breathe out, taking his chin between your thumb and forefinger to turn him back towards you. “I will look upon your face as you fill me.”

You continue to ride Aemond. The beginnings of his protestations die on his lips as his release takes hold. Your lips part, eyes wide with both wonder and enjoyment as you take in the sight of his pleasure drunk features as he pumps you full of his seed. 

His brow is furrowed. The blue iris of his right eye is no longer visible from the dilation of his pupil. The bridge of his nose is scrunched ever so slightly, distorting the positioning of the scar that runs along the left side of his face. His mouth hangs agape as an almost feral sounding grunt escapes him.

You have never seen anything quite so beautiful as your husband in the throes of ecstasy. You cannot quite believe that this is what he has been hiding from you all this time. Your own pleasure is long forgotten to you as you gaze adoringly down at him.

Suddenly he pushes you off of him with a force that causes you to collapse onto your own side of the bed.

“I’m sorry you saw that.” He mutters, turning away from you, clearly distressed.

You reach out a tentative hand, stroking his shoulder. “Aemond, we’ve spoken about this…”

He sighs. “I know, ñuha jorrāelagon, but it is one thing for you to flatter me during idle conversation. It is another entirely for my disfigurement to rob you of your pleasure.” My love.

You pull him gently onto his back, looking down at him with concern. “What do you mean?”

“You saw my face when I…when I- and you didn’t peak.”

Your features soften as you chuckle slightly. “Aemond, you were so breathtaking to me in that moment, that I quite forgot that that was the intention.”

Aemond eyes you suspiciously. “Really?”

You nod. “Aemond, my words to you are not just flattery. I mean it when I say I think you are perfect. Please never hide your face from me again.”

He appears to consider this for a moment before speaking. “Okay, dōna ābrazȳrys. But you must allow me one exception.”

“And what is that?”

Aemond smirks wickedly at you as he lowers himself on the bed. “My face will be hidden when it is between your thighs. No wife of mine will go to sleep unsatisfied.”

[octanesprohoetype]

no strings attached – genji shimada

NSFW!!! MINORS DNI!!!!

a/n: hello, first post on my new blog >:3 this note is gonna be long and ramble-y so feel free to skip it. to begin with, everything about this fic was unplanned. i never planned on my first post here being overwatch related, nor did i plan on it being porn, but here we are with overwatch porn. and then, i was only trying to write a short 1-2k word valentine's day smut, but it is 2 days after valentine's and this fic is 5.5k words long with layers like a cake. this is the first thing i've written for overwatch, and also the first smut i've written in 2 years, so i may be rusty. i hope you enjoy it anyway.

word count: 5.5k

tags/summary: porn with plot (kind of), mild angst?, idiots in love. you invite genji over, hoping that having sex with him would help you get over the annoying feelings you have for him. that doesn't happen for you.

warnings: no pronouns used for reader, female genitalia is vaguely described tho, unprotected sex

edited to add: this fic is now on my ao3 as well! thanks to @smol-dragon for reminding me :3

"damn it. fuck."

you lock your phone and squeeze your eyelids shut, forcing the screen out of your vision, and throw your head back against the pillow in frustration. this is so, so stupid, you tell yourself, and it is stupid, yet you can't let it go.

you were an adult– you shouldn't be having inner turmoil about how you wanted to have sex with someone. it wasn't anything you hadn't done before, but for some reason, it was suddenly impossible to navigate.

"damn you, genji," you mutter, slapping one of your hands against your forehead.

this was all his fault. you'd never felt the urge to have sex with a coworker, honestly, the thought had never even crossed your mind... or at least, that was true until you met genji. you ignored your attraction to the cyborg at first– sure, he was nice to look at and had an alluring air of danger about him, but he was no different from cassidy in that regard. you figured whatever attraction you had to him would quickly dissipate into nothing, as it did with the cowboy, but to your dismay, it only grew stronger.

at first, you found yourself admiring the intricacy of his cybernetic body parts, and then his combat style. then, you found yourself staring at him for much longer, entranced by his form and the way he spoke.

genji himself did absolutely nothing to alleviate you of your newly-contracted disease. in fact, it almost seemed that he intentionally made it worse. he'd jump to your aid in combat, ghost his fingers across you in passing, and you caught him casting you lingering glances, though you could never tell what thoughts were going on behind his actions.

you told yourself it was probably nothing, that you were being delusional and trying to convince yourself that your crush (if you could call it that) was reciprocated. you were almost successful in convincing yourself to let it go, but the interaction between the two of you today not only reignited your thoughts of him, but intensified them.

genji had been in one of the sparring ranges at headquarters, dutifully practicing his aim, though you didn't really think it was necessary. you were observing, over-exaggerating your interest in his technique as an excuse to be around him, and offhandedly made a comment about wishing you could use a sword.

"i'd be happy to teach you," genji had replied.

you jumped at the offer, but severely overestimated yourself in terms of your sword-wielding capabilities. it looked easy, but maybe that was just because you'd only ever seen genji do it, and he made it seem effortless. after failing miserably, you were ready to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment, but genji seemed determined to teach you.

he'd walked up behind you, using one hand to correct your posture, and the other to guide your hands into the correct position along the sword's hilt. you were almost literally on fire underneath his touch, and it was suddenly very difficult to focus on what you were doing.

"i think this might be a waste of time," you'd commented, staring down intently at the sword in your hands so genji couldn't see how red your face was. "i'm afraid i may be a difficult person to teach."

"i'll gladly teach you about anything you want to learn," genji said, standing entirely too close to you with his hands on your shoulder and wrist. "no matter how difficult you may be."

(y/n.exe has stopped working.)

you stared back at him, wide-eyed, with every functional part of your brain failing you. fortunately for you, your phone rang, interrupting the uncomfortable sexual tension that had suddenly filled the room. mercy was calling, requesting your help with something 'important'. after pretending you were really sorry for leaving so abruptly, you practically ran out of the room, silently thanking the doctor for calling you at the best possible time and giving you a get-out-of-jail free card.

you sat through the tactical meeting with mercy and tracer, though you had absolutely no helpful feedback to offer. your mind was fixed on genji the entire time, and your skin still felt hot from where his hands had been. i really need to get laid, you thought, this is pathetic.

now, even though it was hours later, you were still in the same predicament. try as you might, your brain absolutely refused to focus on anything or anyone besides genji. your television had long since blurred into background noise, bits and pieces of some stupid rom-com becoming the soundtrack to your turmoil.

maybe i should just text him... you think, for the millionth time. it was easy, or at least, it should have been easy. finding someone to screw wasn't usually this difficult for you, and you usually didn't care one way or another, but the thought of genji rejecting you was terrifying. even worse was the thought of having to see him again afterwards.

your mind goes back to the sparring range, and you swallow harshly. 'desperate' was never a word you'd use to describe yourself before, but now... when it came to genji, it was kind of an understatement.

"fuck it," you say aloud, swallowing your pride and unlocking your phone.

- hey. are you busy?

he starts typing immediately. how scary.

- i am not. do you need something?

- kind of. i have... a question.

"i am such a fucking loser," you mutter as you watch genji's text bubble appear on the screen.

- what is it?

suddenly, you didn't want to ask anymore. maybe you could go out for drinks with cassidy instead of doing this. you stare blankly at the screen for a while.

- ???

- actually, nevermind. it's embarrassing.

- surely no worse than your attempt at swordsmanship?

- sorry, that was a joke.

- wow, okay. definitely not asking now :'(

- come on.

- okay. do you wanna...

- have sex? with me?

you watch in horror as he starts typing, then stops, then starts again.

- are you serious?

- that is entirely dependent on your answer.

- why... are you asking me?

- i don't know how to answer that.

- i'm definitely taking that as a no.

- i didn't say that.

- well, you didn't say yes either...

- i'm not sure i understand what you're getting at here

- not sure what you mean by that. i'm just asking to have sex

- for the record, i'm not expecting you to be my boyfriend or anything

- just a one time thing. no strings attached

- no strings attached? lol

- okay

okay? okay? what the hell was 'okay' supposed to mean?

- are you there?

- yes. an answer?

- if you're gonna say no i'd like to go ahead and get it over with so that i can go get drunk enough to forget my shame lmao

- that won't be necessary.

- the answer is yes. obviously

your heart almost stops beating for a second. surely this, too, was a joke.

- seriously? like... actually?

- ...

- yes?

- wow! unexpected.

- are you free? like... tonight, maybe?

- i'll be there. 20 minutes?

twenty minutes? was that enough time to prepare? you immediately scramble out of bed to your dresser, searching for something risqué to wear. you owned an obscene amount of lingerie, but for some reason, none of it seemed good enough for the occasion.

you knew enough about genji's past to know that he'd been with more than his fair share of people, and though you weren't inexperienced by any means, it had been a while– most of your time had been dedicated to overwatch lately. you were sure that the names and faces of genji's old lovers blurred together, and although you specifically said 'no strings attached', you wanted to make the best possible impression. even if you never slept together again, you wanted to be memorable, at the very least.

eventually, you realize you're running short on time and opt to put on your personal favorite set. it had never steered you wrong before. you quickly change into it and throw on an oversized hoodie with some random game logo on it– very basic, you noted, but you didn't want to look like you were trying too hard, although you definitely were.

after checking the time, you wander aimlessly around the house waiting for genji to arrive. you definitely weren't nervously pacing from room to room, overanalyzing every aspect of this situation– no, that is not at all what you were doing. before long, you hear a knock at the door. your anxiety spikes through the roof, but you do your best to get a hold of yourself as you walk to the foyer to let genji in.

when you open the door, you see genji, as expected, and he looks the same as always. there was nothing special about his outfit (because why would there be?) and you're very glad you didn't decide to wear something over-the-top. he's also wearing a mask, as usual, but you can actually see his eyes with this one.

"i like your shirt," he says casually. "good game."

you blink at him, having been completely lost in the crimson pools of his irises.

"oh, yeah, it is," you reply, nodding in affirmation. "um, come inside."

he laughs quietly as he steps through the doorway, and you furrow your brows at him in confusion, but decide to ignore it and move on. you lead genji through the house, mentally grasping for straws as to where to go from here. to be honest, you didn't think you'd get this far, so you're at a complete loss.

"sorry, i feel like this feels really weird. i don't usually... sleep with my coworkers," you explain as you reach the bedroom.

genji's eyes are fixed on you, and despite having a clear view of them, you still can't tell what he's thinking. it proves to be very anxiety-inducing.

"i didn't think you did," he says.

"thanks? i think?" you reply, unsure of how else to react. "i'm going to warn you that this might actually go really, really badly, because i haven't slept with anyone in a while, and you kind of make me really nervous, and i also don't–"

you're cut off by genji moving closer to you and moving his hand towards your face. the action causes your words to vanish and your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. you stare at him with wide eyes as he moves a stray strand of hair from your face and brushes it behind your ear.

"i make you nervous?" he asks, an amused tone to his question. "you? nervous?"

you can feel heat rush to your cheeks, and you're hyper-aware of his hand lingering near your face, but despite this you try your best to sound cool. "yeah, i know, it's pretty hard to believe! but it's true."

genji laughs. "you're funny."

"i am?"

"yeah," he replies. his dark eyes are sparkling a bit, and although you can't see it, you can tell that he's smiling beneath the mask.

you look away from his face, your gaze falling to his hand. it's still in the air, close enough to your cheek that you can feel the warmth, but not quite touching you. he seems... strangely hesitant to touch you, so you decide to take the initiative.

genji's eyes widen a bit as you reach out and cup his face, brushing your thumb across the sleek metal of his mask.

"are you planning to keep this on?" you ask.

genji freezes in place, visibly caught off guard by your question. "i–"

you giggle at his reaction. "hey, no pressure. it doesn't matter to me. i'll still think you're hot either way."

"i fear you'll change your mind about that," he mutters.

you frown, unsure of what to say. "there really isn't anything that could make me change my mind about you, genji. but seriously, do whatever you're comfortable with."

he makes a quiet noise in response, and you can see in his eyes that he's thinking carefully about what to do. after a few seconds of silence, he holds your wrist and moves it away with one hand, then carefully removes his mask with the other. you can't help but stare, not only because you're surprised that he actually chose to remove his mask, but because he's even better looking than you had imagined– scars and all.

he looks at you, eyes filled with uncertainty, and clearly a bit uncomfortable.

"you're staring. sorry to disappoint. i can put it back on, if you'd prefer..." he says quietly, as if he's ashamed. it's sad, enough so to distract you from your mission of keeping things clean and simple.

you shake your head and wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him with a reassuring smile. "i'd prefer if you didn't, actually. i can't believe you didn't tell me you were so good-looking underneath that mask."

"i... don't think that's a term i'd use. not anymore, at least," he says, not meeting your gaze. "but i'm glad that you think so."

genji hesitantly puts his hands on your hips, his eyes fixed on the logo on your hoodie. he doesn't seem to know how to react to your compliments, but there's a shy smile on his face nonetheless.

"i mean, i thought you were hot enough before. it never occurred to me that you could manage to be even hotter," you tell him with a smirk.

he looks up at you, blushing profusely, and you're filled with a sense of satisfaction. "i, um, didn't realize you felt so strongly about me."

you look away, deciding to ignore that comment, and begin to trail one of your hands from his neck to his collarbone, then down his abdomen, which was unfortunately covered by his clothes.

"well, the mask is off. that's one thing down," you say, toying with the hem of his hoodie. "just a few more to go."

genji doesn't hesitate to reach down and tug off the hoodie, discarding it on the floor. he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath, and he also wasn't wearing his usual metal plating. his right arm and part of his right upper torso are still made of flesh, as well as most of his midsection. the left side of his body is cybernetic, but it ends just above his hips. you find yourself staring at the intricate and seamless fusion of metal and muscle, your attention focusing in on the sharp outline of his hip bones.

a question pops into your head, but you don't have the audacity to say it out loud– is his dick cybernetic? the thought had never occurred to you before, but you also had never seen just how much of him was still made of skin and bone. honestly, it didn't matter to you either way, but it was an interesting thought. guess i'll find out soon, you think.

genji is staring at you with a strange look on his face, and you're suddenly worried you may have said something out loud.

"something wrong?" he asks. "you look... confused."

"i do?" you ask, surprised. "i was just... curious. about the cybernetic stuff. i've never really seen it up close."

"i see."

you walk over to the bed and climb on top of it, beckoning genji over to you. he follows, but stands still beside you.

"come here," you say, reaching for his hand. "i want a closer look."

he smirks and nods, quickly climbing into the bed and positioning himself on his knees between your legs. you trace the outline of his abs, running your fingers along the border of skin and metal, taking in every detail, and then you realize that he's staring at you again.

"what?" you ask.

"you're overdressed," he says. "i want to look at you, too."

"oh," you pause, realizing that you were in fact still (mostly) fully clothed. "you can take the hoodie off."

genji's hands immediately move to pull at your top. you reposition yourself to make it easier, and you watch as he tosses it into the now-growing pile on the floor alongside his own jacket.

you can hear his breathing grow shallow, and you look back up at him nervously. he's staring down at you with wide, dark eyes, with his hands clenched into fists atop his thighs.

"damn," he breathes. "you're... really the most attractive person i've met."

it's not as though you had notably low self-esteem or anything, but genji's reaction was far more than you expected, and the attention makes you feel embarrassed.

"that definitely feels like flattery, but i'll let it slide," you reply. you're mostly teasing him, but you're also kind of serious– 'most attractive person i've met' is an extremely bold statement to make, especially coming from someone with a track record like genji's.

"flattery? you really think so?" genji asks, seeming to be genuinely taken aback by the accusation.

"mm, it doesn't really matter," you reply, desperate to cut this conversation off before it derails. come on, y/n do not get your feelings involved in this, damn it.

genji leans over you, propping himself up with one arm and lifting your chin with the other. he stares at you with an intimidating intensity, but you can't bring yourself look away from him.

"i'm not that kind of man anymore," he says, his tone serious. you look down at his lips, and before you can form a response, he kisses you.

the kiss is just as intense as the stare he'd been giving you, and it takes a moment for you to register that it's even happening. once you kiss him back, it grows into something more needy. his tongue finds its way into your mouth, and you try your hardest to suppress a whine. you reach to tangle your fingers in his hair and subtly pull his body closer to yours, while genji cups your face with his free hand, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your cheeks.

the kiss seems to go on forever, progressively becoming more sensual. you're so lost in the moment that you temporarily forget that you need to breathe. eventually, both of you pull away for air, lips slightly puffed, and eyes half-open, filled with desire.

you press one of your hands against genji's chest, the other still toying with his hair. he's slumped against you, now leaning against his elbow instead of his hand. your body is flush against his, and you can feel his hard-on pressing against you. you softly grind your hips against him, creating just enough friction to cause you both to inhale sharply.

genji looks down at you, his eyes slowly grazing over your body. he sits up, leaning back on his haunches, looking as though he was deep in thought.

"genji?"

your voice doesn't draw his attention back to your face, but he responds, brows still furrowed. "yeah?"

"touch me," you tell him, almost begging. "please."

he smirks. "sure."

he leans back over you, his face so close to yours that you can see every detail of the scars that paint his skin. the two of you stare into each others eyes, and he pushes your underwear aside without even glancing down. his human hand cups your face, and the metal one assumes its position between your legs.

the sensation of cool, smooth metal against your clit elicits a gasp from you, and genji seems hesitant. he draws his hand back, staring down at it with a forlorn expression.

"sorry," he says. "i... kind of forgot."

you reach for his wrist and pull his hand back to where it had been, shaking your head.

"no, it's fine. you don't need to apologize," you tell him. he still looks unsure, but he doesn't argue.

genji toys with your clit with expert precision, and as much as you enjoy it, your patience starts to wane. as if he can tell, he directs his attention elsewhere, carefully and almost hesitantly inserting two of his fingers into you. you whimper at the feeling, clenching around the unfamiliar texture. it's an entirely new feeling– putting metal there was never something you thought to do, nor did you ever really imagine what it would feel like– but it's good. it's obvious that genji is worried he'll hurt you, or that you won't like it, and you have what you hope will be an easy solution to his concerns.

you bite your lip, looking up at him with your best 'fuck me' eyes, and let go of the restraint you were trying to show. you didn't want to look desperate, but clearly he needed more reassurance that you wanted this– that you wanted him. a string of swear words, interrupted by panting and lewd noises, leaves your mouth, and you rut your hips against his hand, urging him to go deeper.

it seems to work. the dark look that was lingering on genji's face was replaced with a spark, and his movements become more free, no longer limited by the shackles of his insecurity. his well-earned confidence starts to shine through, and you smile in satisfaction, but only for a moment. with genji now seemingly returned to his former playboy glory, you find yourself unable to think straight, too busy writhing under his touch, crying out his name and clenching at the sheets.

"i could get used to hearing you say my name like that," genji comments, a teasing grin on his face.

oh god, please shut up, you think. it was almost as if he wanted you to fall in love with him or something, which was definitely not a part of your plan– in fact, it was the exact opposite of what you wanted.

"don't... say– fuck," you want to tell him not to say things like that, but you're overwhelmed with the feeling of your fast-approaching orgasm. what unfortunate timing. "gonna cum."

genji picks up the pace, unable to decide if he wants to look at your face or at his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you. you attempt to clench your thighs together, though genji's body blocks the action, and as you come undone, he decides the best thing for him to look at is your expression.

you squirm beneath genji, eyes squeezed shuts and knuckles turning white from the force with which you're grasping at your bedsheets. he watches carefully, taking in every minute detail of the way you look when you cum, while still fucking his fingers into you as you ride out the high of your orgasm. once you still, he slides his fingers out, the matte grey now slick and shiny. you open your eyes just in time to watch him pop his fingers in his mouth. he looks back at you through half-lidded eyes, a devious smirk on his face as he watches your already blown-out pupils widen at his actions. to add icing to the cake, he licks his lips, and suddenly you think 'wow, i'd let him do anything to me'.

"god," you mutter, shifting awkwardly. you were trying to rub your thighs together at the thoughts coursing through your mind, but genji was in the way.

you trail your eyes along his body, coming to a halt at the bulge in his joggers. you reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging them down to the middle of his thigh, but the position he was sitting in prevented you from getting them any further. genji climbs off of the mattress and yanks his pants and boxers off himself, then proceeds to do the same with your underwear. the intensity of the hunger between the two of you was so thick it was almost physical, and you can't pull your eyes away from him.

to your surprise, his dick was made of flesh. not that you had any complaints either way– it was just unexpected. you take a moment to admire him, then reach out to pull him back into the bed with you. genji resumes his position between your legs, lifting them up so that your knees are at your chest. the two of you both look down, watching in anticipation as he slides inside of you. he slowly pushes himself in farther, continuing until he bottoms out.

you both moan, almost in sync, at the sensation, and make eye contact again. genji positions his arms on either side of your head and touches his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes, as you dig your nails into his shoulder. one of your hands finds its way back to his hair, gently tugging at the spiky black tufts, keeping him as close to you as you could.

it doesn't take long for genji to find a good rhythm, his thrusts deep and and on the slower side. each movement coaxes noises out of you– his name, mostly, but a few mewls and downright pornographic-sounding moans as well. he kisses you again, lustful and passionate, and slides his hand into your hair to cradle your head. he pulls away, trailing kisses from your jawline to your collarbone, a few of which will surely leave some faint marks. you're not worried about that though– the only person who'd have the gall to comment on it was cassidy, anyways.

"you sound so pretty," he mumbles into your neck.

your breath catches in your throat at his words, and your grip on his hair tightens slightly. he sounded so so hot, it sent a shiver down your spine. "mm," is the only response you can manage.

one particular thrust hits perfectly, and you short-circuit, digging your nails deep into genji's shoulder and whimpering his name. he lifts his head to look you in the eye, his eyes honing in on your lips. his movement becomes more insistent, and he kisses you again, muffling your moans.

for the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room were that of your needy whines, genji's panting and occasional grunts, and the soft skin-on-skin contact. genji was surprisingly much more gentle than you'd anticipated, affection dripping from every action. it was enough to make you start to feel a bit of regret about the whole 'one time only' spiel, but you couldn't really focus on that when he was looking at you, and touching you, and fucking you the way he was.

with the stimulation of genji inside of you, and the way he was purring praise and sweet nothings into your ear in between the barrage of kisses, it didn't take long for you feel your climax coming up. from the way genji was beginning to become more shaky and haphazard in his movements, you could tell the same was true for him.

"genji," you whisper. "i'm gonna cum."

he hums in response, furrowing his brow. "me too."

a few seconds of silence pass, and then genji looks... lost. "uh, where should i...?"

"wherever you want," you say, not really thinking. 'inside' was the first thing that came to mind, but that felt weird to say. was it weird to ask your coworker cum inside you? yeah, probably, but it couldn't be any weirder than the fact that you were having such intimate, needy sex with your coworker in the first place, right?

genji slows down and looks at you with wide eyes. "what? no preference?"

"um, i mean," you cut yourself off, biting your lip to suppress a moan. "i was gonna say inside, but like... up to you."

"are you serious? you want me to..."

so it was weird, you think, instantly regretting that you spoke. "do whatever you want."

genji stops moving, and you let out a pitiful involuntary whine.

"i'm asking, what do you want?"

does he want me to spell it out for him? you wonder. fuck it.

"i... want you to cum in me, genji," you say, looking him in the eye with a serious expression. you ignore the fact that your cheeks are almost literally burning, and also opt to ignore the little voice in your head chastising you for being so awkward.

a choked noise escapes him, and his face turns pink. he promptly hides himself in the crook of your neck again. after a few more thrusts, you can feel the burning pleasure of your orgasm reaching its peak, prompting you to cling tightly to genji. he leans back to watch, and as you clench around him, he loses his composure as well. a soft chorus of each others' names and 'fuck' fills the room as genji fucks you through your orgasm, neither of you breaking eye contact. genji leans in for another kiss as he cums. this time is somehow even more passionate than the others, and you immediately miss him when he leans back and pulls out.

you almost let an 'i love you' slip out, but immediately realize how stupid that would be, and opt to just shut your mouth entirely instead. a silence falls over the room, with the both of you breathing heavily and casting shy glances at one another as if you didn't just have passionate, unprotected sex. genji moves first, sliding into the bed beside you and propping his head up on his hand.

this is definitely going beyond what this was supposed to be, you tell yourself, but really, you're not mad about it. sure, the plan was originally for you guys to have meaningless sex and then pretend it never happened, but that plan started to crumble almost as soon as he walked through your door. you were still worried that you were reading too far into it– maybe he was like this with everyone he slept with.

"can i... be honest with you?" he asks. you nervously look over at him, an overwhelming sense of dread filling your stomach.

"yeah, of course," you reply casually. acting calm and collected when you were pretty sure you were about to hear something you really didn't want to hear was a trait you'd quickly adapted as an overwatch agent, and damn, were you thankful for it right now.

"i... haven't been with anyone in a long time," he admits. "like... since the accident."

you stay quiet. you're unsure of what to say, and you can tell he's not done talking, anyway.

"i couldn't fathom anyone wanting to be with me, considering... you know," genji sighs and averts his eyes. "i've liked you for so long, but i didn't think you'd be interested in me at all. i'm... barely even human."

you're still quiet, trying your best to process what he's saying.

"oh, yeah, sorry. i know you said this was a one time thing, and that's fine. i just thought you should know that you treating me like a person... and making me feel wanted... it means a lot," he continues. "even if it was just sex, i enjoy being around you."

"i'm... really in over my head," you mutter, mostly to yourself. "this is really unexpected, honestly. like, all of it. everything."

genji's face falls, and you realize that you misspoke. he shifts uncomfortably and starts to sit up, obviously preparing to leave. you reach for his arm, wrapping your hand carefully around the metal.

"not unwelcome, just unexpected. i... didn't want to get feelings involved because i was sure they wouldn't be returned," you explain. "you seemed kind of unapproachable. i was taking a shot in the dark."

genji laughs a little. "i seem to give that impression. it's not really the case... or at least, not with you."

you gently pull him back to your side, holding his face in your hands and giving him a quick kiss. you can't find the words to convey the emotions you feel, so you hope that touch would suffice. he presses his forehead against yours and wraps an arm around your waist, and the two of you just lay there, basking in each others' presence. this was... an unplanned turn of events, but you were much happier with this outcome.

"hmm. so much for the whole 'no strings attached' thing, huh?" you say quietly. "looks like there's definitely strings. lots of them."

genji laughs again, and you find your heart skipping a beat at the look on his face. yeah, there were so many strings tethering this man to your heart. you wanted to tell yourself that weren't sure how exactly you ended up like this, but the moment you saw him take off his mask and show you his most well-kept secret, you knew there was much more than sexual attraction there, and that there was no going back.

"thank you," genji says, pulling you out of your trance. "for... overlooking my flaws, liking me as i am. you're truly the most beautiful person i know."

you smile at him, feeling your heart quite literally melt at the way he's looking at you.

"you're beautiful, genji," you tell him. and he was. the scars and metal that made up his body weren't flaws– they were a part of him, therefore they were beautiful, too. they weren't something you had to overlook to find him captivating, but you'd tell him all about that at another time.

[angelltheninth]

Money Sees All

Pairing: Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, banter, sex pollen, power dynamic, biting, size kink, breeding kink, Zhongli has his dragon traits

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Commission for @zhongrin! The title of this fic is inspired by "God Sees All" cause the song is a banger.

You followed close to your Lord, at his side, definitely out of place in the Red Light district. If Zhongli was bothered by the things on display, the nearly naked men and women, he didn’t show any indication. This wasn’t what you were here for after all. “Are you sure its in this place my Lord?” You looked around at the people snickering at the two of you entering one of the brothels.

“Even a god needs a whore.” They’d whisper, making your ears burn. Zhongli looked down at you with gentle golden eyes, his hand sneaking up your arm, the marks slightly rough on your skin.

“Do not listen to them. We’re only here for a lead.” This place was one where a lot of money turned, a lot of people passed through, so someone should know if the sex drug that Zhongli had heard whispers about passed through here or not. He himself wasn’t interested in it, however it was hurting his people, he needed to put a stop to it.

You were his right hand woman, so of course you aided him in it. You helped take down the criminals, much to his dismay. He was a protective god, “I’m much tougher then you give me credit for my Lord.” You’d wink at him, a playful smile on your lips as he patted you on the head for a job well done. Lately his hand began to linger there, to trail down your cheek, to brush against the corner of your lip. No, no, must be your imagination. He was a god, Zhongli, Morax, Rex Lapis. You were a mortal, just a temporary assistant.

Perhaps that’s what made you dip you fingers into the bag of drugs and taste them, the loneliness. It tasted so sweet, it smelled sweet,it made your head spin and your pussy grow slick in minutes. It was a mistake.

“What have you done little one?” Zhongli’s booming voice made you flinch. He stood at your door, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. His hand quickly flew over his face to block the sweet scent, yours and that of the pollen. “You know what that does to humans. Its not meant for you.” The room spun, your eyes locking on him, your god, your boss as heat traveled down your flushed cheeks to your core. “It’s my fault.” His voice was a breathy sigh, “I know you humans have your curiosity. It’s why this happened in the first place. But you off people should have known better.”

The words did nothing to scold you, instead they made you rub your thighs together as you sat on the floor, your clothes making it entirely too hot. “I know.” You whined, “I’m sorry. I-ah, god!” You slumped forward, head spinning, hand sneaking between your legs, shame blooming on your cheeks as you rubbed your needy clit in front of him. Hot tears began to roll down your cheeks as Zhongli’s mouth dropped open. He should have never seen you in this state. No, correction, you should have never been in this state to begin with. “But I needed to get rid of it.”

“Get rid of it? The sex pollen?” His voice was slightly deeper then normal, eyes flashing gold, hands fisting into the cream colored robes.

“Lonely. I was... I thought it would help but... fuck...it hurts... it hurts... its so empty... need a cock...” More specifically, you needed Zhongli’s cock. “Need to... be filled up...”

“Filled...?” The word was almost snapped in half from his growl, his pants tenting at the front, “You need... someone to take care of you.” You barely noticed the door slamming closed as strong arms picked you up and tossed you on the bed, sharp claws making short work of your clothes and his own. He could get new clothes, he had the money for it, he was a god, and you his beloved second in command. “Apologies. This drug is meant for us gods, it can... enhance the experience. However it’s very excise, and very dangerous to humans unless... treated properly.” He let you run your hand up his arms, feeling the marks sneaking up, feeling his silky hair fall free under your fingers, the ribbon falling bedside your head, his tail thumping, thumping and coiling back and forth.

This wasn’t first time you’ve seen him like this, his tail, his sharp claws, his fangs clenched, his horns poking upwards, but it was the first time you’ve seen him look this feral, this out of his own control. And his cock... fuck how was that gonna fit.

“I will make it fit.” Shit, you didn’t realize you spoke out-loud. Your shame didn’t prevent you from fingering in and out as he watched, still slightly conflicted, “I promise I... I do care for you. This won’t change anything between us.” Won’t it really? You can’t imagine that fucking your boss wouldn’t change anything in your dynamic.

Maybe in the future, “Am I not gonna be your whore?” You asked, remembering what those people from the Red Light district said.

“Tonight you are. But do not think that I would think of you as lesser for it. I will always cherish you and our bond. If anything...” He rolled his hips forward, long, slow thrusts pressing over your fingers then over your pussy when you moved your hand away, needing more direct contact, “...this is just another side of you. And me. What kind of god would I be if I didn’t take care of all my followers. Especially one so... divoted.”

“My Lord I hope that you... that I can please you.” You hooked your legs around him, locking them above his tails, feeling the warm scales brushing against your heels. You expected slow, you thought he had some semblance of control but if he did it vanished the moment your pussy walls tightened around his tip. He wastes no time thrusting into you needy, wanting pussy, listening to the moans that follow from your lips.

Zhongli pulled you into each of his thrusts, his hands tugging your hips with his as he feels you take him to the hilt. You can see how much he cared for you, each thrust meant for your pleasure, each deep stroke making your breath shaky, that smile across his lips as he sees your pleading and panting face taking him. His briefly left yours to look at your neck, “It might hurt a little but, some pain might help as well.” His tongue licked over his fangs, long and rough and making your pussy clench as you imagined that inside of you, tasting you.

With shaking fingers you guided him close, lips almost touching before he passed them by and bit down on your shoulder. “Zhongli! I- my Lord!” You didn’t know what name to cry out when you came so you used all of them in quick succession, your pussy getting more slippery with each of his deep thrusts, “More, more, more, more. Not enough.”

“Not enough? I know what you need.” His tongue licked over the bite mark, proud of the scaring it will leave, “You need my seed. You need to feel full of me. You need your God, your Lord, to breed your cunt full of cum.”

The thought of his seed going deep into your womb and breeding you?! All of these thoughts are making you forget that you are being fucked by the man who is your God. All you care about is the pleasure he gives you.

With one hand on your hips, he slammed his hips against yours in a punishing rhythm while his other hand battered your clit, skilled fingers flicking the hard nub repeatedly until you felt nearly. Zhongli let himself go with a harsh growl, burring himself to the balls as he came, thick ropes of sticky cum filling your womb.

God he might be but he allowed himself to slump forward and into your embrace, pushing his cock forward and almost making you lift your hips to accommodate him. “Are you... this was... uhm... thnk you, my Lord.” You hid your face in his shoulder, his hair tickling your hot cheeks. You were unwilling to let go of him, scared of the face he would make once this fog of lusts lets up.

Instead of a harsh scolding you felt a rumbling inside his chest, a hand cupping the back of your head, the other wrapping around your back, thumb rubbing soothing circles along the base of your spine. “Thank you for allowing the honor of helping you. That being said, we should get rid of this stuff, otherwise I’m afraid we won’t be leaving your bed.”

“A... tempting thought.” Your eyed the bag still open on your desk, moaning as you felt Zhongli’s cock stir. “But if you’re here with me, you’d help me if I were to... have an accident again?” Your answer was one of Zhongli’s very rare laughs and his tail reaching over for the bad, taking some of the dust on his tongue and giving you a deep kiss.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Cassandra Pentaghast is a really interesting character and for me a big part of that is how she absolutely does not want to be the inquisitor. In Dragon Age 2 we see her desperately trying to find Hawke (and it's implied the Warden) to lead the inquisition and she's SO eager to put this new possibly-not-even-Andrastian-not-even-human in charge at the beginning of inquisition that she will gaslight gatekeep girlboss her way into doing so. Once you reach skyhold she even bows out on wartable meetings. She has 0 interest in Any Of That actually and will go to bizzare lengths to take herself out of the picture.

But she's...one of the more obvious choices. She's already a folk hero who symbolises heroics for the chantry. She is powerful, and commands respect and attention from those around her even if she's not a 'people person'. She was the right hand of the divine and worked well within that role as far as we are told. She is not a templar, she is a Seeker, but one not involved with What Went On With Cole and Gang In Assunder so much so she's as neutral as the chantry probably wants to get when it comes to the mage vs. templar conflict.

But she wants to nope out SO BAD. She is DESPERATE not to be in charge. She hates it. Doesn't want it. She doesn't want to be Divine either, and I think that builds a lot on all this.

IDK man i think it's such an interesting part of her character and the way that she interacts with the Herald.

[motherofdogs1010]

Little Darling II (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual smut, dry humping, stripper!reader, mentions of prostitution/sex work, language, mentions of nudity, drinking, canon Peaky Blinders violence

A/N: I've seen a lot in interest in my story and a few people asking for a taglist, so if anyone interested, comment below! I'm still new to posting stories on Tumblr so please be patient with me ❤️ thank you for all the love, I also write on Wattpad ❤️

Also if anyone knows any good accounts that make dividers and banners for multiple fandoms, let me know! I plan on expanding into more fandoms like House of the Dragon and Law and Order: SVU!

💋 Dividers @firefly-graphics 💋 Banner @vase-of-lilies

Part I Part III

Y/N yawned as she stretched her body, she lightly slapped her cheeks in a effort to finish waking herself up as she moved about her kitchen. Last night's shift proved to be a good one thanks to the Peaky Blinders that had attended and the lap dance she had given to Thomas Shelby.

She rubbed her eyes as she moved about to begin getting her breakfast ready. Working as a dancer might not have been ideal for some women, but the money was worth it as she was managing to use some of it towards her mother to help with her father since his failing health had put them in an troubled position.

After breakfast and getting herself ready for the day, Y/N grabbed her small handbag, wicker basket and hat, walking out the front door and locking it as she began to make her way to the market to buy food for her parents.

As she walked down the street, she heard the rumbling of a car beside her and she glanced over to see him.

"Hello there", Thomas Shelby called out to her. "Y/N right?"

Y/N felt her pace slow a little as shock came over her... how the fuck did the man find her? Cherry would never out her, they wore masks to hide their identities to prevent trouble that the working girls get from men and angry wives.

"Hello", she answered back with a unsure look. "What can I help you with, Mr. Shelby?"

He slowly followed her down the street, she passed by some people who quickly walked by them as she stopped and sucked in a deep breath, turning to look at the man.

"Just wanted to know when you're working next, Little Darling", he smirked, his voice teasing.

Her eyes widen a little in shock and anger as she gritted her teeth as he stopped the car, leaning back in his seat and she approached the door.

"Didn't Cherry tell you 'no talking about the club'?" she hissed, Thomas chuckled at her.

She hated how attractive the man was; the lap dance that she had given him the night before gave her a real close-up of his features and she was able to tell he found her attractive.... well, she could also feel how attracted he was to her but he did respect the rules of not asking for sex or a blowjob from her since that was against the policies Cherry had put in place.

"She did", Thomas said, amused as he began to light a cigarette. "But I haven't been know for being a rule follower, love."

"Who blabbed?" she demanded, he grinned a shit-eating grin.

"I believe her name was 'Sugar'", he replied as he took a drag of the cancer stick.

That damn bitch... Sugar, or Annie as she was actually called, had it out for her for weeks now for some unknown reason.

"I'm not telling you", she replied, "have some other dancer service you."

"Why don't you come on in?" Thomas asked, reaching over to open the passenger door. "I'm sure you'd be more interested in discussing... our matter of affairs in here."

Narrowing her eyes, she pursed her lips as she moved to sit inside the car and shut the door behind her. She placed the basket in the backseat as she stared at the man, who took another drag of his cigarette.

"We have no matter of affairs", she said, "I performed a service for you, that was it."

"A service?" he said, "you're making it sound like you had my cock in your mouth."

"Oh, don't be so vulgar", she said with a roll of her eyes. "If you wanted your cock wet, you could go see Lizzie Stark like every other man."

"Lizzie doesn't move like you do, darling", Thomas said.

"Unfortunately for you, if you want another dance", she said, gathering her things, "you either find another dancer down at the club to give you a dance or you wait."

"Wait for what?" he asked as he watched her get out of the car.

"For when I'm working."

With the money she made, she managed to get enough food for her parents for the next week or so; carrying the now heavy basket, she walked up the steps to her parents' home, lugging the heavy wicker basket as she knocked on the door.

She waited a few moments before the door opened, revealing her mother; her hair was tied up as she wore a shawl around her. Her parents were older, Y/N having been a miracle baby of sorts from what her mother would tell her because of her mother having been pregnant with her later in life.

"Y/N", her mother said with a tired smile. "You're father will be happy to see you."

"I brought you food", she answered, her mother's hands came to caress her cheeks.

"My sweet girl", her mother said before letting inside.

After going inside and leaving the wicker basket of fresh food in the kitchen, she left her mother to walk to her parents' bedroom, where her father seemed to be most of the time.

She found him sitting in bed as he just stared out into nothing.

"Hi dad", she greeted, sitting on the edge of the bed.

But he just continued to stare into nothing.

It was a day later when she went into work, Cherry was eagerly awaiting her when she entered from the back entrance. All dancers especially were meant to enter from there since The Scarlet Letter prided itself on its secrecy of the dancers, the girls may know each other under the masks, the customers did not.

Well, they shouldn't... except that bitch Sugar apparently was running her mouth as Y/N seethed.

"Y/N", Cherry grinned, pushing her strawberry blonde hair from her forehead. "You have repeat customer."

She sucked in a deep breath through her nose as she lowered her purse onto her vanity before saying, "Sugar's been running her mouth to customers."

Cherry's grin fell and a deep frown replaced it, "She's being a rat?"

"Seems like it", she answered as she moved to the wardrobe. "Ratted me out to Thomas Shelby."

"And by coincidence, he's here tonight", Cherry said with a shake of her head.

Y/N pulled out a blood red piece, the bra was made differently compared to the ones that were popular; instead of making her breasts flatter, this bra accentuated them, cupping them in vibrant lace and shimmer. The underwear was different as well, not like the shorts that she would normally wear under dress, but instead had thin string that went around her hips, red fabric covering her ass and front just enough to leave imagination to wonder.

"What did he want?"

"Wanted to know when I'd dance again."

Cherry was silent as Y/N moved to the drawers on the vanity, opening it and pulling out a matching mask.

"I'll have another talk with Sugar, let her know she's on thin ice."

She had those pinned curls again, a red feather on the side of her head where the hair was slicked up against her; the matching sinful red lips pouted as she slid down the pole. Tommy watched with a cigarette hanging, she was like a siren calling to him with those half-lidded, bedroom eyes that were haunting him.

Tommy knew Arthur and John were somewhere in the club, probably getting dances in the private rooms but he had to wait. He saw her sway her hips as she held the pole, he could feel his pants begin to tighten a bit as she slowly dropped down into the splits, a wink sent his way.

Y/N found herself straddling Thomas Shelby again, her head tilted as she stared down at him.

"I see you waited", she said, "didn't take you for having patience."

"In the right situation", Thomas said as he leaned back in the chair. "I can be a bloody saint."

She began to grind her pelvis down in his, a groan escaped the man as she loosely wrapped her arms around his neck, her tits in his face as she moved like a seductress. Unfortunately, her grinding down on him added stimulation to her clit, making waves of pleasure begin to take over her.

"Awful rule you've got here, no touching."

Suddenly, she felt his grip her hips before grinding back up into her, a startled gasp escaping her as he grasped her chin and knocked off her mask.

"Too bad I don't like following them, darling."

He smashed their lips together and she moaned at the searing, hot feeling that seemed to tingle her body as she continued grinding... well, more dry humping down on Thomas.

She knew it was only going to complicate things, but at the current moment, she ignored it for the minutes of pleasure the man was giving her.

TAGLIST

@amanda08319