#dear forbidden anon

[zyonsay]

Delulu max fans unite ✌️😗

-🚫

In max we trust.

[writers-ex]

we can'ttt forbidden 🐥

okkkkkk forbidden x whatever you say dearest x

[sailoryooons]

Incubus yoongi x reader

Go wild with smut maybe theres fluff and angst too! Love your writing so much

☾ Pairing: Incubus!Yoongi x archdevil!Reader

☾ Summary: 

Sunder (sun·​der) transitive verb : to break apart or in two : to separate by or as if by violence or by intervening time or space Sunder (sun·​der) intransitive verb : to become parted, disunited, or severed

☾ Word Count: 5,297

☾ Genre: Smut, Forbidden Romance, Angst, Fated Lovers

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Vague worldbuilding - this takes place in a Hell setting so.. Lots of talk of literal hell, implied violence and war, themes of classism/species racism, hint of political scheming, depiction of servants who are chained/collared, implications of sex work/incubi being bread specifically for sex work, honestly Yoongi and reader kinda give co-dependant vibes, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, a little bit of overstim, cum eating if you squitn, multiple orgasms, bleeding/scratching/biting, possessive themes… um I don’t know the smut scene is more PrOsEy than straight-up smut. 

☾ Published: Sunday, April 7 2024

☾ A/N: We are using Forgotten Realms (dnd) lore because I was randomly inspired to do so. You need zero knowledge of Forgotten Realms or dnd lore to read this - there is vague world building and references to a plot on the side that I imagine Yoongi and reader are a part of but that does not happen in this little one shot. I just did it for the tension and because I’m out of control. 100% change I got some dnd lore wrong - don’t care, I kinda made it my own in parts as needed!!! Thank you!!! 

☾ A/N 2: Dear anon, I don’t have a clue what this is, but it was inspired by a very specific scene in the movie Troy when Paris (Orlando Bloom) sneaks up to Helen’s (Diane Kruger) room while the Greeks and Trojans are downstairs partying and he’s like hehe let’s bang it out. That’s it. I really hope you like this because sometimes I fill requests and I'm like ..... that probably was not what they had in mind and yet here I am, delivering whatever ??? this is ??

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾Filled Requests ☾ Masterlist  Milestone Request Event ☾ Ask

Note: I don't use my tag list for requests!

A pair of dark eyes in the shadows around the party catches your attention as you listen to Archdevil Belial's drone about his victory in Phlegethos. The fiend’s words fall on deaf ears as your gaze narrows to a deadly point on the man lingering in the shadows across the room, keeping away from the revelry with a single chalice in his hand.

And he’s staring at you. 

You feel your muscles constrict as you flick your gaze away, your heart rate picking up speed as you try and focus on Belial again. It isn’t a story you care to hear about - he’s been droning about his defeat of the Kelemvor worshipers on the fiery planes of Phlegethos. Hardly a battle as much as a skirmish outside of the city gates that demanded his attention. 

Archdevil Belial is none the wiser that the creature he really desires to kill is lurking at the edge of the party, burning eyes on you as he cocks his head and glances toward the empty staircase that leads toward the living quarters. 

There’s a twitch of irritation in your stomach as Yoongi turns and vanishes into the shadows. He is good at being seen only when he wants to, which works in his favor when he enters the hall of his greatest enemies, all in one room because of war meetings against the very fiend who now slips upstairs to your bedroom. 

It was only a matter of time before Yoongi showed up - despite the level of stupidity it takes to show up in the hall of your sworn enemy. Yoongi likes to show off though. He likes to remind his enemies - and himself - that he is not so easily kept out of places that he wants to be. 

Especially if those places he’s being kept from have you inside of them. 

“Thank you for the conversation, Lord Belial,” you interrupt. The devil looks at you with his mouth open, eyes blazing as you interrupt him to dismiss yourself. You feel a small twist of satisfaction. “I must retire for the evening. I am returning home tomorrow before starting my campaign through the realms to ensure my father’s army are being… led properly.”

Belial’s face twitches in irritation. You’re above his station - though not too far - and decorum is everything in matters of spoken insult. “Yes,” he agrees. “It is important for our… figureheads to inspire. The Whip of Asmodeus paints a threatening picture, to be sure. It is hard to be of influence on the battlefield - we do appreciate your efforts off the field.” 

A laugh like cutting glass bubbles from your lips. “You honor me.” You feel the ice in your mouth when you dip your head politely, pretending to be unbothered by the implication that you’re nothing but an empty threat. “I will see you in a tenday, Lord Belial, when I come to inspire in Phlegethos.”

With a curt turn, you cut through the party toward the stone dias. Those in attendance part for you like water parting around a sharp boulder, hurrying to get out of your way. Figurehead or real threat doesn’t matter - you’re the daughter of their lord and by rights their lady. 

Your father sits on his throne of twisted bone and fire ahead of the party, crimson eyes drinking in all that happens from his seat of power. Yet he has missed something incredibly important that now lingers upstairs waiting for you. The thought makes your lips twitch in a smirk as you ascend the stairs to where Asmodeus sits, a giddy tingle in your belly. 

A beautiful incubus boy sits next to the throne on the floor, a gold collar around his neck with a glittering chain that leads to Asdmodeous’ hand. The incubus looks at your father with adoration, gold eyes burning. Mouth agape. Breath catching. 

You don’t know how much of it is performance. It’s always hard to tell with the lower level fiends what is real and what is an act. It’s part of the dangerous game they play, and thought you’re more accustomed to their kind - especially the one lurking in your room - you’re still unsure how to tell the difference with this one.

You catch the scent of honey and vanilla as you step nearer, though the incubus doesn’t look at you. You immediately feel the ebbing power of allure from the creature, battering your senses just being so close. Asmodeus seems unaffected by the battering power of lust radiating from the incubus, but you see the two guards behind him glance toward the creature on the floor. 

You grit your teeth and ignore the twist in your gut, trying not to be irritated. Only one man has power over you this way. It isn’t the incubus’ fault that he’s doing what he was trained to do, but the sudden pitch in your stomach and dizziness you feel around him unsettles you. 

“I am returning to my chambers, Father,” you murmur, bowing deeply. “I have grown wear of Belial’s peacocking.” 

Behind him are two massive Orthons, no less than eight feet in height and wide like a troll. Their horns are curling and battle-scarred, ugly tusks showing from thick, fat lips. The beasts are hellish weapons from wars passed, now assigned to the personal guard of your father. You note that they also did not notice the shadowy incubus slipping into their party and up the stairwell.

It almost makes you tsk. Even for a creature as skilled and powerful as Yoongi, slipping past an entire party full of the most powerful infernals in the realms is impressive. He is, of course, more than just an incubus now, but still. The sheer magnitude of doing it successfully is not lost on you - and makes you worried for his sanity. 

“Sleep well,” Admodeous voice rumbles, his voice like stones grinding together. “Tomorrow, you return to Malbolge and ready to set out on your campaign.” His fiery eyes turn to you and you feel the weight of the burning Nine Hells press against you. “They will feel the crack of the Whip of Asmodeous and know that we are mighty. 

“It will be done.”

“She is as pretty as My Lord is,” the incubus boy purrs from where he sits at the foot of the throne. You glance at him, realizing that his golden gaze has broken away from your father and turned to you. Your stomach twists in equal parts anger, guilt, and disgust as you feel the lick of his power. “The House of Asmodeus is as beautiful as they are powerful.”

Again, it’s hard to discern if the incubus is performing or if he means it. Asmodeus pulls the chain hard, yanking incubus toward him. You hear his neck pop, though it doesn’t break as the creature wimpers at the sudden show of violence. “Do not speak to her, worm. You are nothing. She is the Heir Apparent and Princess of the Nine Hells. You are fodder.” 

The incubus cowers, and ducks his head away from you, curling in on himself. The sensual allure to him lessens distinctly, the energy souring. You feel your fingers twitch as you think of Yoongi. It is not difficult to guess that Asmodeous’ newfound desire to humiliate and dissipate incubi and succubi are inspired by his hatred and inability to rid himself of Yoongi’s stain. 

Swallowing thickly, you bow once more, slipping backward off the dias and toward the stairs that lead upward. No one guards them - there are supposed to be no enemies at this party - and shadow falls over them, the torches flickering as though watching you ascend.

Music and voices follow you up the stairs, the soft click of your shoes against the carved stone louder in the growing silence as you navigate to your bedrooms. The staircase winds and the sounds drift further away from you until it’s only the crackling of occasional sconces and your steps.

Two heavy doors in the west wing of the Citadel belong to your bedroom. The crackling energy of the arcana buzzing along them acting as a lock makes your skin tingle. You mutter the password and feel the pop of magic as it vanishes, allowing you to push heavily against one of the doors to grind it open. 

The room is both yours and not. It was your room for most of your life growing up under the ruler of the Nine Hells, opulent and dark, full of old possessions and heavy, draping curtains to keep out the smoke and ruin, rich art painted by careful hands with red and purple splashed across canvas. 

Now, it feels like a room that belonged to someone else entirely. You’re no longer the vicious little thing that thought would sit on the throne in Nessus one day. You’re no longer the unthinking weapon that Asmodeous uses to maintain order and public punishment. 

A large bed stands on a lifted dais, covered in silks and piled high with pillows. They lay undisturbed as you close the door behind you and mutter the password again, feeling the static of magic seal them shut behind you. It would take a small army to batter through them, thankfully. 

Your eyes scour the room. Embers burn in a smoldering fireplace, offering little light in the dimness of the bedroom. A large sitting area stretches to the right with leather chairs and velvet chaises, tables covered in untouched books and scrolls. 

To the left is an open study, a heavy wooden desk in the middle of the room backed with bookshelf-covered walls and heavy chests locked with tombs inside. You see the cover of a journal flipped open, the only sign that Yoongi had been lingering in your study snooping. 

Your mouth twitches at the corner as you look away from it. Yoongi leaving something out of place is only ever on purpose, a confirmation to you that yes - his visit has double meaning. You might be the primary reason the incubus and favored chosen warrior of a death god has snuck into his enemy’s home, but you’re not the only reason. Of course he is looking for any extra information he can use against his enemies. 

It stings a little more than you’d like. 

Stepping further into the room, you swivel your gaze back and forth, looking for a sign of the slippery man himself. A master of shadows, Yoongi is only seen when he wants to be. Strange, for a fiend whose very nature is to be seen and devoured, to give and to receive, to lure and enjoy. Most of his life has been spent in spectacle, and now he spends it in the shadows. 

Warm breath brushes against the back of your neck, making your skin prickle. “I like this dress.” 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Yoongi’s callused fingers brush up your arm. It’s a ghost of touch but it makes your eyelids flutter shut, warmth thrumming in your stomach immediately. Unlike the incubus downstairs, you don’t feel a magnetic pull that is arcane here. You just feel the pull to Yoongi - a desire that is your own and fueled by nothing else. 

He has no reason to use his charm here. It makes you shiver as you lean backward into him, eager to feel the solidness of his chest and smell the sweet wine on his breath. 

“You always say that,” he purrs, the words low and scratchy. His other hand comes up to brush his fingers up and down your other arm, pulling you toward him full. You melt, fading into him faster than you should. “When will you learn that I will go wherever you are?” 

“Even if it means your own demise? You’re in the Citadel of Asmodeus.” 

“He’s killed me before.” Yoongi’s touch is more solid now, hands exploring your waist and curves, squeezing your flesh, pressing you against his waist. You rest the back of your head against his neck, inhaling cedarwood and sage. “I’m not so easily destroyed.” 

“Don’t.” 

You don’t want to recall the many times Yoongi has been wrenched away from you. Each time a little closer to permanence than the last. Time and time again, he has been ripped from your hands as your father attempts to destroy the fate linking you, to burn it until there is no tether there. 

“You’ve been good,” Yoongi notes. His hand goes to the silk strings on the side of your dress, pulling them undone. “He truly thinks you no longer think of me? That he has succeeded where he has failed a dozen times before?” 

“Yes.”

“His arrogance knows no bounds. He’ll think he’s a god, soon enough.”

You turn your head to the side, brushing your mouth against Yoongi’s. His lips are warm and taste of wine, urging your tongue to swipe across his bottom lip for a taste. “Is he not?” you ask against his mouth, fighting the need to shiver as one side of your dress falls open. “He rules the Nine Hells absolutely.” 

“Oh come off it,” He laughs. “You and I both know that isn’t true, otherwise he wouldn’t be in a civil war. Plus… I have recently acquired Avernus and Dis.” 

You straighten and turn around sharply to look at him, brows furrowing. For a moment, you forget what it is he’s said to shock you. You’re hypnotized by eyes dark enough that they reflect the stars when in the mortal world, a mouth that is soft and sensuous, a gentle, round nose that is opposed to the way he can turn it up at someone in a sneer. A faded scar over one eye - one of many that he's received over the years.

Yoongi is beautiful the way the moon is, distant and cold, but with a glow of softness that is often underestimated. 

You had made that mistake before. A long time ago, incubi and the lower creatures of the Nine Hells hadn’t been a blip on your radar. They were nothing to a princess of the Nine Hells, someone whose entire purpose for existing would be to one day step into ruling over all nine of the realms crushed in your father’s fist. 

Now, you know better. You’d been a silly, arrogant girl then, head filled with dreams of ruling over the dread cities and bringing the dukes and duchesses to heel. You’d never considered that perhaps your existence was more for appearances and leverage than anything else. 

A puppet. 

Belial, was, unfortunately, quite right about that. 

“What do you mean you have Avernus and Dis?”

“The skirmish in Phlegethos was a distraction. The dukes and duchess’ have been so frenzied about making sure they don’t have any disruptions in their rule that Belial scrambled to deal with his, turning his eye away from the others. Mammon… well you know Mammon. He is not a concern, for now. He cares little who holds Avernus and Dis.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I had help with Dis.”

That sours your stomach. “Bel.” 

“He has no love for Zariel. And he’s from Dis.”

“He’s a traitor. You’d do well not to trust him. Who knows when he’ll turn on you if promised something.”

“The Nine Hells are full of traitors.” Yoongi’s deft fingers undo the other side of your dress. “Including me. You think I would not sell out every single one of my fighters for you, hmm?” Yoongi presses a wet kiss to your jaw. You lean your head back to give him access to your throat. “You think I wouldn’t throw away being Kelemvor’s chosen and carrying his mantle for a chance to have you forever?” 

“You do have me.”

“Not in the way we are designed.” His voice is a growl as he bites at your throat, teeth scraping. You feel dizzy in his arms, but he holds you steadfast. “You were designed for me by the wheels of fate, and I for you. All of this - war, death, political scheming - it stands in our way and I would betray the god who gives me my many lives to cut to the chase in an instant.” 

The rage-laced words are an anger you’re familiar with. Two creatures born to exist for one another - more than fated mates. Your very existence tied to Yoongi’s is a matter of universal balance, two threads of fabric that must remain woven together, lest the realms collapse. 

Divine Scales. Two lives bound together that must remain in balance for the rest of the world to exist. You and Yoongi are not the only Divine Scales in the realms, but you’re perhaps one of the most difficult to balance in a world set on keeping you apart. 

You, the daughter of the Archduke of the Nine Hells. Yoongi, an incubus servant whose purpose was to lure, steal, and spy on behalf of Asmodeus. It was an unfit match that your father was set on destroying - his daughter an heir would not be tied to a lowly creature of lust and servitude. 

“Careful,” you murmur as Yoongi peels the fabric from your skin. The air is warm but you feel a shiver anyway, nipples pebbling at the temperature change. “Your god might not like to hear you say such things.”

“He is not my god,” Yoongi mutters. His eyes are hungry, burning with desire as he drinks you in, his fingers gripping the flesh at your hips. “He is a convenience. I need power to take control of the Nine Hells, he gives me power. You are the only being I worship. The only goddess I recognize.” Yoongi sinks to his knees and your stomach flips. He looks up at you, lips parted and pupils blown, eyes so dark you could spill into them and never find your way. “Let me prove my devotion. Let me worship the only divinity I’ve ever known.”

Yoongi’s words are a spell on you, and not because he’s in an incubus, created and bred to be alluring and lead mortals to the Hells to give up their souls. Yoongi’s words have power because he is Yoongi, a being who he designed to be your other half. Another being you love so entirely that you intend to sacrifice the realm you call home, that you actively betray the people you’ve known since you were a child in order to be with him. 

These snatches with him are so few and far between. He fights a war against your father and his archdevils while you unravel them from the inside. Two knives carving away at the system which fights to keep you apart. 

You forget about all of the atrocities committed and to come. You push away the anxiety that Yoongi is thwarting his power by coming to the seat of his enemy’s power, just because he can and because he wants you. 

Instead, you focus on the way his mouth leaves wet kisses across your thighs. Yoongi’s fingers press into the back of your legs, holding you to him as his tongue lavs at a small scar on your hip, his teeth nipping the flesh.

Your world falls away as his tongue and mouth suck at your skin. Heat gathers between your legs, feeling the wet ache in your folds as Yoongi purposefully avoids going toward the apex of your thighs, instead showering your inner thighs, calves, and hips with soft kisses. 

Strong hands pry your legs apart. You let him slide your foot over, widening your stance easily. You cannot recall a single person you have ever been pliable for. You are the Whip of Asmodeous, a sharp weapon made to force subservience and delve out punishment. 

You are no whip in Yoongi’s hands. You are silk, sliding through his fingers as his mouth presses closer and closer to your heart. To everyone else, you are a weapon. To Yoongi, you’re just you. A mind to adore, a body to worship. 

Your knees threaten to buckle when the first, slow swipe of his tongue runs up your drenched folds. Yoongi chuckles, the sound throaty. Gently, he lifts a leg and pulls it over his shoulder, providing a counterweight as you stand but also giving him access to your aching cunt, pressing his face close as he licks you from hole to throbbing clit again. 

“Yoongi,” you whisper, a hand shooting to his hair. Your fingers slide through soft, silk strands and twist, rooting him there. He groans in appreciation, focusing his tongue on slow, up-and-down licks, avoiding your clit as he works. “Fuck.” 

He hums, the feeling buzzing through your pussy as he closes his mouth over it, sucking gently. His mouth is wet and warm, tongue soft as it circles your aching bundle of nerves. Your legs feel gummy as you waver, holding onto him to keep yourself standing as much as you are to keep him in place.

Yoongi’s hunger can rarely be sated. He devours you, mouth eager as he sucks and licks at you, lips smacking loudly as he does. You barely register the obscene noise, canting your hips up into his mouth as the pleasure begins to build slowly. 

A hand presses into your ass, pressing you harder against the flat of his tongue. Yoongi opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, looking up at you with fucked out eyes as he urges you to fuck his face at your pace, to use him like a god would use a conduit. 

Yoongi is your conduit, and you are his. You vowed centuries ago to be his whip, a weapon at his command. He vowed to be your shield, your knife in the dark. 

The powers of the Hells would keep you apart. Beyond the impropriety that someone so lowborn could be fated for one of the highest powers among the infernals, the two of you together are too much of a threat. Too much power tied to one another, a divine match that cannot be broken.

Still, they try. 

The two of you have died before. Keeping you dead isn’t easy, though. Neither can truly die while the other lives and no one has quite managed to kill you both simultaneously - a familial crutch that Asmodeus cannot seem to overcome. 

You’d die every day to have this moment with Yoongi, your breath caught in your lungs, sweat beading on the small of your back, head tilted back as your heart beats so loud it's all you can hear. You feel every part of your body coil before there is a moment of white noise as your orgasm crests over, your cunt squeezing, your hand pulling his hair. 

Yoongi drinks you in like he cannot get enough. Gluttonous, ravenous man, pressing into your heat as he sucks. Your hands tug at his hair, the stimulation going from warm and fluid to sharp and biting. He grows a little when you pull his face back by the strands of his hair, a picture of madness with the lower half of his face covered in your slick, lips red and swollen, eyes unfocused. 

You pull and he stands, knocking you back as he does. You stumble the remaining footsteps to your bed, mouths connecting in a tangle of teeth, tongue, spit and cum. You taste yourself on him, sucking his tongue greedily into his mouth as your hands claw at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. 

He complies, letting you push the shirt off his shoulders as he climbs over you, pressing a knee between your legs as he traps your lips in a searing kiss again. Your lips feel bruised where you kiss, his mouth demanding. His hands claw at your hips, pulling you down into his knee, grinding your slick cunt against his leg.

You let out a breathy sound, both from the feeling of pleasure blooming between your legs once again and the warmth of his skin, your hands rubbing across his chest, seeking to chase the inferno within. Yoongi has always been warm, but something hotter burns in him now. Something divine, vicious, and powerful lurking beneath his skin, the unlikely power of a god of death lurking just beneath the surface. 

You know that Kelemvor, the God of Death and Lord of Judgement has chosen Yoongi as a conduit of power because Yoongi seeks the balance of the world - he is a part of the balance of the world. His very existence is paramount to a deity whose very nature is to maintain the scales. 

It doesn’t stop you from wanting to eat away at the divinity under Yoongi’s skin, to drive out the influence that isn’t yours, to assert your dominance over a god and remind him that Yoongi does not belong to Kelemvor, he is not an extension of death. He belongs to you and you alone. 

It is an irrational, violent bout of jealousy that overtakes you for a moment. Your nails rake down his chest a little too hard, leaving trails of blood beneath. You bit his bottom lip a little too hard, the taste of iron and salt spilling into your mouth with his tongue. 

Yoongi smirks against your scarlet mouth, pulling back to look down at you. He knows what it is you seek. Yoongi always knows. Your minds are not connected, but your souls are and there is little you can hide from him. “You cannot rip him out of me, no matter how much you want to.” 

“I will try.” 

“Good.” He leans down and bites hard on your collarbone, making you gasp. “I will tear Asmodeous’ influence from you in kind.” 

Your hands are less harsh as you undo the laces of his pants, pulling them down powerful thighs. Your viciousness cools in the shower of the whisper of his love against your ear and the scrap of his tongue against your skin. Every single part of you burns hotter than the deepest part of the Hells, driven there by him alone. 

You love him - such a simple word could convey it accurately, anyway.

It seems too small of a word, unable to fit the fountain of want, desire, trust, and yearning that spills out of you into such a small cup. You don’t know if love can truly hold everything you feel for him, if it conveys that there is nothing god, archdevil, or fate that would stop you from being here with Yoongi, getting to touch him, to taste him, to whisper into his mouth as he presses the head of his cock into your weeping entrance. 

“You’re mine,” you gasp, rolling your hips forward to meet the slow, powerful strokes of his cock. Yoongi cradles you to him, his hands gripping you tighter as he presses your bodies together, as though you could meld. “Mine mine mine.” 

“I’m yours,” he agrees, voice throaty and strained. “Who else could I belong to?” 

You have no answer. Stars dance behind your eyelids as you move to his rhythm. Yoongi’s skin is heated and sticky as he moves against you. You feel his heartbeat in exact time with yours, twin rhythms. Your arms wind around his shoulders, fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of his neck. You feel the muscle of his back and shoulder flex as he fucks you slowly, each stroke pointed and driving you to the edge again. 

Yoongi’s mouth brushes yours. You breathe in his air, unable to put anything else into words, thoughts consumed with him. With how he tastes, with how he smells, with how he feels. Nestled in the deepest part of you, you feel home. It is such a rare feeling, only discovered here like this, connected. 

It makes your breath catch, barely audible above Yoongi’s low groaning and the loud smack of skin against skin. Your heels dig into the bed, head pressing into the mattress as you throw your head back, unable to do anything but take what Yoongi is giving you. 

His pace quickens, slamming into your cunt with enough force to break you. But you do not break - you could never break with him. You squirm in his hold, babbling and panting and trying to breathe as he drives you to the edge of madness - and then you peak. 

A wild sound escapes you as you seize into him, muscles clenching, cunt spasming. Yoongi’s thrusts turn vicious, fucking you through your orgasm as you clench down on him with a vice grip. His fingers grip the back of your neck, pulling you toward his chest as he leans backward, your legs sliding as he seats you in his lap, fucking up into you. 

“Imagine thinking they could take you away from me,” Yoongi hisses. His thrusts are sloppy and hard, spearing you and sending you hurtling right toward the edge again. You submit to him, head lolling to the side as he takes you. “Imagine thinking that you could defy a prewritten fate that you are mine, that you are anything less than what was made for me.” 

A sob slips through your lips. You cannot think of a response, only able to cling to him as though to say yes. 

“They cannot take you away from me,” he growls. “I will destroy this world again and again if they try. They cannot sunder what is here, they cannot rip you away from me any more than you can rip the stars from the sky.” 

Just as you begin to teeter on the edge, Yoongi slams his hips home, clenching as he comes. “You cannot be anything else but mine.”

It sends you hurling over the edge again, so powerful that you forget where you are for a moment. It is intoxicating, this bliss that unfurls like the flowers of a petal. Nothing exists here but calm water and the scent and taste of Yoongi. There is no war here. No fight to keep you apart. No demands, no expectations. It’s just you and him. Like it was always meant to be. 

Slowly, awareness creeps back toward you. It is a lumbering, lazy thing. You only feel somewhat aware that you’re in a bed and that you feel the heat of Yoongi next to you, the press of his mouth against your shoulder. The aftereffects of sleeping with an incubus are not lost on you, even as a powerful infernal. 

Everything feels melted, like it could fall through your fingers like grains of sand. Perhaps you could float away if you tried, but Yoongi grounds you. The feeling of his hand on your hip and his mouth on your skin is the most solid thing that exists in this world in between, keeping you tethered to something real. Something substantial. 

When you blink away the sticky high of the post-orgasm daze, Yoongi is watching you with soft, round eyes. The burning desire is still there, but at the forefront is adoration. Worship. Love. Anything stronger than words can describe. 

“Are you okay?” he kisses your jaw before drawing back to examine your face. You nod, head heavy. “Too much?”

“No. Not with you. Never with you.” 

His mouth twitches like he’s unsure. You nestle closer to him, closing your eyes as you’re cupped in the safety of his presence. “With Avernus and Dis at your command, you can take Phlegethos,” you murmur. “Mammon will give you Minauros if you can do that.” 

“Hmm.” 

Your eyes flutter open, watching as Yoongi closes his. You can tell by the twitch in his mouth that he is thinking. “I will deliver you Phlegethos.” He cracks an eye open and looks at you, seeing the hunger that burns there. “Belial needs a good whip to put him in place.” 

“The Whip of Asmodeous?” 

“No.” You grin. “The Whip of Kelemvor’s Chosen.” 

[hp-hcs]

violent stalker mattheo riddle.... each guy and girl readers ever spoken to? damn wdym they showed up beaten up the next day and they dont even know who did it ????

i feel like he'd also get violent with reader and ykw .... im so insane id let him beat me bloody .

"i'm doing this because you're not listening to me, sweetheart. how else am i supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn't do?"

hey uh, future requesters: giving me a line of dialogue or smth to build around means i’ll finish your request WAY faster. tysm anon 😭

requests open

prometheus — yandere! insane! stalker! mattheo riddle x gn! reader

wow! there’s a fuck ton of really fucking dark violence, murder, torture, manipulation, abduction, and horrific domestic abuse in this! please be careful if you choose to read this!

1.5k words!

i jokingly took a sociopathy test with a couple of friends earlier today and i scored like really high so uh dunno how to feel about that

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Am I…am I in trouble or something, Professor…?”

Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned and she looked at you over the rim of her glasses. She folded her hands together neatly where they rested on her desk before speaking. “Not for now, no. Relax a bit, dear. The law states that you’re innocent until proven guilty.”

“That’s not- that doesn’t really make me less nervous.”

The professor opened her mouth to speak again when a chime alerted her to an incoming floo call.

With a wave of her wand, the flames flared green and a genial-looking man stepped out of the fireplace. He brushed soot off of his robes and grinned brightly as soon as he caught sight of the professor.

“Minerva! Lovely to see you again. I’m afraid Quincy isn’t going to make it. Corbett is sick, poor thing, so he’s staying home with him today,” the man gushed, evidently quite close with the professor.

“Oh, send them both my well wishes, Hez, dear. Anyway, this is the student you asked to see, Y/n L/n,” she motioned towards you.

The man gave you a cheery grin—far too cheerful for this early in the morning—and held out his hand for you to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mx. L/n. I’m Auror Hezekiah Ackerly. I’d just like to ask you a few questions if that’s alright?”

You dubiously shook his outstretched hand, a bit put off by his bright grin that never seemed to dim. “Sure.”

“Wonderful!” the Auror pulled the second office guest chair closer and sat down across from you. “Let’s get the easy questions out of the way. Do you have many friends? Or maybe a small, close-knit group of people you regularly hang out with?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck kind of question was this?

“Uh, I guess a close-knit group?”

Auror Ackerly summoned a notebook and quill, writing quickly. “Who belongs to this group?”

Seriously, this felt more like being at a psychiatrist’s office than being questioned by a government official.

“Er, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger? And sometimes Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood?”

Seriously, what was going on?

“And do you have any…romantic relationships? Any troubles or issues there?”

Your eyes narrow. “What’re you playing at?”

“Cormac McLaggen was found dead in the Forbidden Forest this morning,” Professor McGonagall cut to the chase, interrupting Auror Ackerly. “You were the last known person to have spoken to him, and several of your peers attest that they heard an argument break out between the two of you last night after dinner.”

Your eyebrows shot up and your jaw dropped. “Dead? Wh- how?”

“That’s what we at the Ministry would like to know,” Auror Ackerly interjected smoothly. “You’re not in trouble, Mx. L/n, but I am here to escort you to the Ministry for questioning.”

Your jaw dropped.

They thought you did this?

~~~

You sat at a table, alone in some room deep inside the Ministry building.

You huffed, folding yet another paper crane from the stack of sticky notes Ackerly had oh-so-thoughtfully left for you after your interrogation.

You set the finished bird on the table, the small pile of origami cranes you’ve made while waiting slowly getting larger.

Peeling off another sticky note, you started folding another when a nice-looking man in well-pressed robes entered the barren room and stopped in front of your table. He looked down at you with mild bafflement.

“L/n, I presume?”

“That’d be me,” you mumbled, adding your newest crane to the pile.

The man smiled gently before waving a hand over your paper birds and enchanting them to fly.

You tried to hide your awe as you look up at the cranes that floated and soared around the room.

The man smiled at your reaction. “It’s quite nice to finally meet you, Mx. L/n. You’ve been the topic of many a discussion today.”

“I’d imagine so, yes,” you said dryly. “Not many teenagers accused of murder coming through the department, huh?”

He grinned. “Not really, no.”

The man pulled out the other chair at the table, sitting down across from you and rifling through the thick manila folder he held.

“Are you here to interrogate me some more?” You asked suspiciously. “Ask Ackerly, man. I already told him everything I know.”

He laughed. “No, I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m your lawyer, Mx. L/n.”

You blink. “I don’t have a lawyer. My family can’t afford that.”

“You always have the right to an attorney, Mx. L/n,” he said kindly as he held out his hand to you. “Octavian Foxglove, Esquire.”

“Y/n L/n, but you already knew that,” you greet, shaking his hand.

He smiled again.

He was a very smiley man.

He laid out the manila folder and turned it around on the table so that you would be able to see it.

The first paper on top was a copy of your school records, with a bright red PRIMARY SUSPECT stamped over the top of your picture.

You grimaced.

Your lawyer nodded sympathetically. “There’s a photo underneath that page, by the way. Supposedly the last photo we have of McLaggen still alive and, uh…it’s not looking great for you, in all honesty.”

You moved your school records page aside, finding a standard moving photograph paperclipped to the inside of the file.

It showed, quite clearly, you speaking with Cormac McLaggen in a hallway. Picture-Cormac angrily threw his arms up in the air and silently yelled at picture-you, while your body language in the photo loudly screamed ‘furious & upset’.

He was right. It wasn’t a great look.

“And there’s only one thing I need you to- oh, where is it?” He dug through the inside pockets of his robes, procuring a pen. “Aha! The next page has a simple contract. I just need a signature stating that you either accept me as your public defender, or would like to request someone else from the Ministry to handle your case.”

You nod, flipping the page to the contract he indicated. Mr. Foxglove smiled again and held the pen out to you.

As soon as your fingers made contact with the pen, you vanished.

~~~

You stumbled blindly, almost falling to the floor before a hand caught your elbow and steadied you.

“Easy, careful.”

You whirled around, surprised to see a different man in Mr. Foxglove’s clothes. He held his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

“Woah- slow down, kid. You’re fine.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m- was your lawyer,” he shrugged and smiled. “Augustus Rookwood, at your service.”

It dawned on you. “It was a portkey,” you breathed. “The pen. It was a portkey, wasn’t it?”

“Clever kid,” he sounded impressed. “Now c’mon. The boss wants to see you.”

You followed the man without complaint; half out of curiosity, half out of the knowledge that Augustus Rookwood was an Azkaban escapee charged with at least forty counts of first degree murder.

Pretty simple choice.

It looked like you were in a wealthy aristocrat’s house. Er, mansion, more accurately. The hallway you were walking down was old and stuffy and dusty, and the overall aura of Dark magic that permeated the very air of the house sent shivers down your spine.

Rookwood led you down a flight of rickety stairs to the first floor, and then down a narrow hallway and into a study, where he left you without another word.

The study itself was old. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust except for the pristine and polished bureau right in the center.

(Obviously, ‘the boss’ was sitting at this desk.)

((Villains tend to be predictable like that.))

However, you were surprised to see that ‘the boss’ was-

“Riddle?”

He looked up at the sound of your voice, a wide grin spreading across his face as he hurriedly got up from his desk.

“Y/n, darling, hello!” He gushed, practically skipping over towards you before pulling you into a very uncomfortable hug. “Sweetheart- oh, I’m so glad you’ve made it here safely! Rookwood really is my only competent assistant; I must be sure to give him a raise.”

You froze up at the unexpected hug, your arms remaining stiffly by your sides. He let go after a moment, but remained just a bit too close for comfort.

“Hopefully the Ministry didn’t give you too hard of a time,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a guilty grin. “I promise Ackerly’s a good man. When he’s, y’know, in control of his own body.”

Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “What?”

“Just a little Imperius, darling, no worries. Did you like your gift?”

You blinked, thrown off by his rapid changes in subjects. “Uh- gift?”

He smiled proudly. “McLaggen? He won’t bother you anymore, see?”

All the color drained from your face.

“You killed Cormac?”

He nods, grinning. “Uh-huh. I heard what McLaggen said to you last night in the hall, and I don’t like when other people look at what’s mine.”

“Yours?” You repeat, your lip curling in disgust. “You’d better not be referring to me.”

Mattheo paused, looking at you in confusion. “What else would I be talking about?”

You scoff in shock, shaking your head. “Yeah, nope, I’m out.”

You turned around without further preamble, marching out of the room and towards the front door that you’d passed earlier. Mattheo laughed and followed you out of the study at a leisurely pace, seemingly unworried.

“Where are you going to go, darling? As far as the general public is concerned, you’re on the run after brutally murdering a classmate. You’re Wanted with a capital W, sweetheart.”

“I’ll figure it out,” you snarled, storming towards the front door.

“Y/n…” He warned, drawing his wand and pointing it at you. “Get back here. Now.”

“Fuck off.” You spat over your shoulder, not sparing him another glance.

That was clearly not the thing to say. As if in slow motion, you heard a dreaded word fall from his lips.

“Crucio!”

You were struck with pain that was so overwhelming, so blinding, so agonizing, that you were sure you were going to die.

You were only half aware that you’d fallen to the floor at some point as wave after wave of unbearable pain crashed over you. You could feel your bones creaking and grinding together, your skin splitting apart only to knit itself back together just to be torn apart again, like you were some fucked up wixen version of fucking Prometheus.

You were only vaguely aware that you were speaking, pleading. Pleading not for the Unforgivable to be lifted, but for him to just end it, end you, entirely.

“K-kill me! Kill m-me…please!” You begged, blood trailing down from the corner of your mouth and smeared across your chin. You must’ve bit your tongue hard for it to bleed like that, and the sting from that wound while you speak is just too overwhelming when combined with the pain from the Cruciatus Curse.

Then all at once, it stops.

You gasp for air, your entire body trembling and numb as you lay sprawled across the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

Mattheo kneeled down by your side and cupped your face in his hands with a kind of tender gentleness that felt deeply wrong coming from him.

“See, I’m doing this because you’re not listening to me, sweetheart. How else am I supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn’t do?” He cooed softly, gently wiping the blood from your chin with the sleeve of his shirt.

You flinched back at his touch. Your body—still wracked with uncontrollable quivers and trembles—tried in vain to crawl away from him.

“Oh no, honey- hey, honey- I promise it’s all over, okay? You were so so good for me. But you see now that you’ve got to stay with me, right?”

Your jaw quivered and your still-stinging tongue felt thick in your mouth, yet you managed to spit vicious hatred towards him.

“G-go to hell.”

A flurry of emotions crossed his face: surprise, anger, guilt, and disappointment; all of which were topped by the underlying aura of pure sadistic glee that exuded from him.

“Oh? Do you need another lesson or two before you learn?” He sighed and shook his head patronizingly. “Very well then, darling. Crucio!”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

taglist! @gayaristocrat @slytherinboysappreciation @lemonaderiddle @h-------n @yournogoodalone @knave-hearts @schaebickel @lexacantsleep @big-brother-problems @darkcharmx @cyberbl4de @amandajonhsson @megannxn @catz-80 @ghostiesen @fruityfrog505 @coysa @fruitypebblesstuff @mildlyuninformative @glittervame @cayaevans1 @lizeylavender @cloudydaysinmydreams @ironickarkatlover @ahead-fullofdreams @tachyon-girl @jaythes1mp @lovelyfandomqueen @ashisgreedy @mothermah3m @siuspider @ineedtogetalife11 @cherry-berry-ollie @cherriosxfish @a-hopeless-romantics-blog @fallingblackveils @ldrsog @linde0s @ghost-tyr @booksouflette @h0treader @maraudersforlife2005 @ahano @miah-macaroni @whatislifes-stuff @iara-ximena17 @goth-blackcat @dutifullyfuturisticwizard @docackerman @mizu-mc @tiacordelia02 @mingyuethesimp @luvlli @dracoshusband @verychaoticgay @thathogwartsjedi @lisbethpisbeth @remusily @daliah-xxo @rainy-darling @corinneeagles @sle1epy @averys-place @shibble @i-love-sirius-black7 @azu-202029 @artemismckinnon @lostboychimera @yukimaniac @annegrey

[livelaughlovesubs]

do you write for nanami? if you do, i have a req :3

au where hes still with us (sniffles) and being a sorcerer is more of an on-the-side thing, and he's like an overworked office middle class guy whos also a wizard on the lowkey. sometimes he works so much he even forgets his birthday. but you didn't. ohhh no you did not. you're at home patiently waiting for him, and all you want is to spoil him for the night because he deserves it!! he deserves to just be taken care of, given the care he needs, maybe a little overstim in the process, but it's all with good intentions... (right?)

SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OMG 😭😭

anyway...... requesting a sub!nanami x softdom!female!reader with a little overstim <3 (out here exposing my service dom fantasies)

idk if you do emoji anons, but if you do can i be 🎱 anon? tysm!! i love your works and i hope your have a lovely day/night :) <333

So taking care of nanami on his birthday? Consider it done. Also welcome 🎱 anon, I’m happy about all my new anons ^^

Dom!reader x sub!nanami

Warning: blow job (reader giving), teasing, marking - hickeys, fluff, use of pet names

Hands moving across the table, reaching for the dirty porcelain. The sound of plates being stacked could be heard, and you swiftly placed the dishes on the counter. Nanami tried to help, carrying the cake over to the refrigerator, though you stopped him. “Let me do it, it’s your birthday today! You are forbidden from working.” You declared, snatching whatever he was holding away and putting it in its rightful place yourself. “My birthday isn’t that important, just let me help.” He was such a gentleman, but you still stayed stubborn. Today was his birthday, yet he still went to work, he even did overtime. That’s not acceptable, at least now you should lift some burden off his shoulder.

Right, that was your plan. To take care of him, make him feel loved and happy. Also most importantly, not let him do any chores. Even if it doesn’t look like that, he also has to rest. You really adored him which is why you wished he’d take care of himself some more, and have a mesmerising birthday of course. So why did he look so troubled? You told him not to help. Instead of relaxing he looks uncomfortable or awkward. Just sitting there, watching you do it all. Seems like this part failed a little.. then it’s time to move onto the next one.

Still determined to make him enjoy himself, you brought him to your shared bedroom after watching a movie. “Could you please sit down, my dear?” You asked him, while slowly stripping your clothes. Until you were only in your undergarments. In the meantime the Blondie sat down, a slightly hesitant look on his face. He wasn’t sure what to do, since you’ve been taking everything upon yourself the entire time. His hands wandered to his belt, gaze never leaving your body. Before he could get rid of his belt, he felt your hands on top of his, stopping him gently. “Leave it all to me, alright?”

Nanami felt really embarrassed now. What was he, a kid? Why would he need help undressing himself? Despite his inner turmoil, he still let you do whatever you wanted. It looked like you planned all of this just for him, thus he’ll try to play along. The last thing he’d want is to inconvenient you. Slowly you pulled his belt out, then your fingers wandered up to his collar. He felt a slight tug as you pulled on his tie, untying the knot. Then you gently, and carefully unbuttoned his deep blue shirt. You were only focused on him, and nothing else, pupils glancing at his face every now and then. A smile spread across your features when you saw him furrowing his brows. “You can take off those glasses now.” You whispered, one hand reaching for his cheeks, caressing him while the other still held his dress shirt. His own hand moved upwards and took them off, placing them on the nightstand.

“Such beautiful eyes, don’t hide them from me all the time, hehe.” “I’m not hiding anything from you.” You sure hoped that was the case, considering how he thinks most of the stuff happening at work isn’t worth mentioning. Now that that was out of the picture, you resumed your previous antics, opening one button after another. Soon it revealed his muscular body, and you couldn’t help but stare. You have always loved everything about him, from the head to toes. Yet right now you were sure his torso was your favourite. How beautiful his skin was, as well as the little, barely visible scars from battles; or his firm chest with those cute nipples.

You moved your face closer to his, hands on his pecs now as you kissed him, locking your lips with his. His lips were soft and you were like in a trance when you kissed him. Before he got to enjoy it you pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. It was way too short for him, but he didn’t complain, he could never get mad at you. Afterwards you started kissing his neck. So carefully and tender, that it felt like a feather brushing over his skin, it was almost ticklish. His breath sharpened by a notch when you started groping his chest, squeezing that place with your fingers. In between kisses and smooches, you made sure to whisper into his ear, showering him with compliments. “I’m so glad to have you, my handsome and beautiful boy.” This continued for a bit, and soon his entire collarbone area was covered by red spots. Some hickeys were on his torso too. “You look gorgeous right now.” you commented on those trails of marks you left behind, before fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

You didn’t strip him entirely naked, only enough that you get to touch him wherever. Pulling his pants and underwear down a little to free his cock. He groaned a little when you wrapped your hand around his shaft, rubbing the part that is connected to his pelvis. “Y/n, darling.. don’t tease today.” Immediately your attention wandered to him again, shushing him with your finger as you said, “don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, I’ll make you feel good today.” A light chuckle, then you played with his tip. The adoration you had for him was genuine, and visible in your eyes.

The way you looked so confident and eager to make him feel good was so adorable in his eyes, and he just can’t help himself but fall even more. Sighting a little before it turned into a breathy moan, “uhh,..huh.” Your delicate fingers were touching all the right places, and soon he was fully erect. One of his hands was clutching the sheets, while the other reached out to your hair, stroking it gently. This surprised you a little, but it wasn’t too bad so you let him be. Then you moved lower, until your lips were inches away from his dick. You let your saliva drool down, afterwards you licked his tip as a tease. “Hmm- i told you not to tease.” “Oh? Guess i forgot that then~” an adorable giggle followed, coming from you. He was truly lucky to have you here with him.

While he was still admiring the relationship you two have build, you took him into your mouth and sucked. Trying your best to avoid any teeth and using your tongue to roll it over his tip. “Ughh- haa..” his grip on your hair tightened. Normally you’d push his hand away, though today was a special occasion. Sweet moans and the occasional gasp spilled from his lips, eyes now clenched shut. Sometimes he’d bite his bottom lip too, to try and keep his voice down. You just continued taking more of him, using your hand to jerk off the rest that didn’t fit. “Darling.” He called out to you, but stopped mid sentence to compose himself. It was getting harder and harder to speak, or to think.

He could feel every fever of his being pulsing, his heart pounding like crazy. The blood rushed to his face and abdomen, making the rest of his limps go numb. Strength was leaving his legs and arms slowly, all while more and more pleasure flourished within him. How his body convulsed every time you licked his tip, or when the inside of your mouth clenched down on him. It felt warm and soft, so good he could feel himself getting closer to the edge.

“Ahh.. keep going, just like that.. please.” Finally he finished his sentence, pleading with you with a meek voice. You didn’t plan on stopping anyway, instead you wanted to make him beg you to stop at the end of this session. Smirking to yourself as you kept doing your own thing, enjoying the noises he’d make. Did it really feel that good? Was what you would have liked to ask, but this is fine too. As long as your lovely boyfriend looks ecstatic and full of bliss, you were content too. Out of nowhere his grip righted by a lot, enough to make it hurt for you. He mumbled apologies while saying, “ah.. I’m clo-close.. haa, sorry., darling…”

What a lucky boy. If today was any other day you would have punished him. Fine, guess you were going to be especially merciful with him. You didn’t mind the slight sting his tug brought you, mouth and hands still working on bringing him over the edge. He let go of your hair in the last minute and clasped it over his mouth. A silent moan left him, then a repressed groan followed. “Nghhnmmm…!! Ahhh..ugh..” his voice was beautiful, you could listen to him all day. Even though his hand wasn’t in your hair anymore, you still didn’t move away. Letting him cum in your mouth, before you finally moved back. When your lips left his dick you made a wet slurping sound, then swallowed everything he offered to you. “Delicious~” you smiled innocently as if you didn’t just make him see heaven.

Suddenly he moved closer to you, sitting up and hands grabbing your cheeks now. “Nanami? Is something?” You wondered, but that curiosity soon got replaced by shock and a joyful feeling you haven’t felt for a while. He kissed your forehead, cupping your face with his hands as he whispered, “I’m glad i can spend my birthday with you.” All while smiling so tenderly, with a calmness and warmth that was unfamiliar to you. Only sometimes he’d get emotional enough to be like this, and whenever he did, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again. “Happy birthday, nanami.”

[maria-tries-to-write]

Hi! I saw that your requests are open, if it's ok and within your rules, I can ask, Aemond being obsessed with his half sister (daughter of Aemma and Viserys), who defended him after the Driftmark incident, along with Alicent

Aemond Targaryen being obsessed with his half-sister would include:

A/N: I feel horned to wright you ask, my dear anon! I'm deeply sorry, I think maybe run a little out the topic, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it! Also, PLEASE, READ THE WARNINGS!

SUMMARY: the journey of Aemond Targaryen, trying to have a taste of the forbidden fruit: his own half sister.

WR: f!reader, reader has long hair, violence, murderer, fire, mentions of groping, non-con groping, Aemond being Aemond. Once again, PLEASE, READ THE WARNINGS!

WORDS: +4.2k

Being the second daughter of Viserys and Aemma meant getting the utmost care and affection from your dear father, the king.

Also meaning being completely despised by your older sister’s ex best friend, Alicent, now Queen of the seven kingdoms.

Alicent done everything to make sure her kids hated the blacks as much as she did, poisoning their minds with paranoias and conspiracy thoughts; however, none of this seemed to change the mind of her second son, Aemond.

Being considerably older than him, you, Rhaenyra’s younger sister, were the prince’s object of affection, much to his mother distaste.

You’ve always thought how cute your half-little-brother clung to you at every royal event or sought your presence at the Red Keep.

Since he was just a kid, you couldn’t help but indulge on his clingy tendencies.

Without fail, Aemond always ran to your comfort when he was feeling too overwhelmed by Aegon’s bullying, burying his face on the space between your shoulder and neck.

You would calmly soothe him down, rubbing his back and lightly rocking him side to side.

However, time proved to be harsh, making you face a cruel dilemma.

It was night at Driftmark, everyone were supposed to be sleeping, yet, the shouts put everyone on their feet, looking for the commotion.

You slammed the doors open, facing little Aemond being stitched up by the maester.

You gasped, horrified, running to his side, but you were violently shoved by Alicent, who were throwing daggers with her fiercely gaze.

“You, stay away from my son!” you wobbled a few steps back. Aemond seeing this, got up from his chair, yelling at his own mother, but unfortunately got even more hurt in the processes by the pinching of the needle.

“Sweetheart, calm down, I’m here—“ “Don’t touch me!” Aemond shout out, slapping his mother’s hand away from him.

Viserys, trying to keep the situation under control, asked to Alicent to let you pass, which she complied with resistance.

Seeing her son immediately hugging your waist while rubbing his cheek on the fabric of your nightgown, made her bitter. This was supposed to be her job, giving comfort to her son on this difficult situation; not her rival’s sister.

After all the commotion and Rhaenyra being stabbed by Alicent, you were tasked to stay with Aemond on the nursery, again, by the prince’s begging and to his mother distaste. One more time, Alicent felt rejected by her own son.

Her only wish were to let Ser Cole stay with you at her son’s bed, fearing that Rhaenyra, who were sleeping at the nursery as well, attempted against the prince’s life.

Now at the ward, with a damp cloth, you cleaned the caked blood on Aemond’s hair. Brushing your fingers through his locks, you said “Some day, you will have the most beautiful silver hair of the kingdom.”

“Do you like… my hair?” the now one eyed prince asked, thanking the gods the lights weren’t strong enough to show his flaming cheeks.

You laughed, delighted by his cuteness “Of course I like, silly! Unfortunately, you’ll have to take a lot of baths to wash away the reddish stains.”

Aemond took a mental note to never cut his hair ever again.

“May I ask you something?”

With a gentle smile, you agreed “Of course!”

“Why did you defend me? Why didn’t you defended your nephews?”

You took a moment to pick the most appropriated words “Even though I’m very disappointed at your words, I would never wish any harm to come for any of you.”

Sensing the drop of your mood, the prince asked what happened. Sighing, you explained “Me and my sister will leave the Red Keep, Aemond.”

The little prince’s life turned upside down. Widening his only eye, he begged for an explanation, trying to cover his wobbly voice.

“Me and my sister talked and we decided that Red Keep is no longer safe for us.” “What do you mean?! I have Vaghar! The biggest dragon in the seven kingdoms! I can protect you!” he fisted your arms, as if you were going to vanish in front of him.

You lightly chuckled, petting his cheek “I appreciate your efforts, my brave prince, but our family is in the verge of a war. Leaving and letting things calm down is the best decision for now.”

“But…I don’t want you to leave! Take me with you, if needed, but please, don’t leave me alone!” now full crying, he caged you on his frail embrace, sobbing uncontrollably.

Returning his hug, you brought him to your lap, taking extra care to not touch his fresh wound “My little prince, you know I can’t bring you with me, your mother would kill me. It do hurt me to separate from you, but you must understand that there’s no other way. Besides, there’s nothing stoping me from visiting you or sending you ravens!”

Aemond stoped crying, now just enjoying your warm embrace as long as he could “But it won’t be the same…” “I know, my love, but it’s just a provisional measure. I’ll reunite with you sooner or later.” You said finally, kissing him gently on the top of his head.

The next morning, everyone prepared for your sudden departure. Rhaenyra informed you it would be better if you leaved as soon as possible, which Aemond strongly disagreed.

Out of the castle, your dragons waited for you, already equipped with everyone of your belongings. Turning to say good bye to your favorite prince, you and Aemond shared a hug; obviously with everything monitored by Alicent.

Seeing you flying away shattered his heart in a billion pieces. It felt like he couldn’t breath, as if a hole opened up on his chest. He felt lonely. Never wanting to feel this way ever again, Aemond promised that the next time he saw you, he wouldn’t let you go.

The years passed. Every single day, religiously, Aemond wrote you a letter, informing you of everything he did or planned to do in the day.

You happily read all of his letters, glad to know that the young boy was not as depressed as you thought he would be due to your departure.

So, as fast as you could, you wrote him back as eager as him, alway commenting something he told on his own letters, just so he knew you read and payed attention to every single word he draw on the paper.

But, after a few months, Aemond stopped receiving your letters. It came to a point where he would spend all day pestering the servants interrogating the whereabouts of your letters.

Completing a whole month of no news about you, Aemond snapped. He destroyed his bed chambers, breaking the furniture, slashing the curtains and ripping his book off the shelves.

Ser Cole and Harold were sent to contain the enraged prince, who kept screaming and kicking, while the Queen tried to reason with her son.

When the prince stopped slashing around and started to cry, Alicent cocooned him on her lap, “She promised” he murmured between sobs “she promised she’d never leave me…”

Years passed. Daemon and Rhaenyra, now husband and wife, travelled to King’s Landing to defend Jacaerys and Lucerys right to the iron and driftwood throne. Not passing this opportunity, you flied along with them to the Red Keep.

It’s been a long time since you received a letter from your favorite little-half-brother. You were a little hurt at the beginning, but then you started to be a little reasonable: maybe he was busy with Vaghar or his training. So, you opted to send Alicent letters asking for permission to visit her son. Unfortunately, you never got a response.

After the coldly reception of Alicent and Otto, you accompanied your two nephews to the training grounds.

Immediately, you spotted a man with wide shoulders and a beautifully long silver hair cascading his broad back. He was sparring against Ser Cole, your sister’s late knight.

Making Criston surrender, applauses erupted from the grounds. “Well done, my Prince.” congratulated the knight, still panting “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys” he dismissed Criston’s flattery “Nephews, have you come to train?”

Aemond turned to Lucerys and Jacaerys, but he was caught by surprise when his eye landed on you.

Ethereal as ever, your now longer hair was braided expertly on a beautiful bun, assenting your features. The heart of the one eyed prince beat uncontrollably inside his chest.

Sensing his eyes upon you, you greeted him “My prince, it’s been a while.”

Aemond, not knowing how to carry with the conversation, agreed “Yes, it’s been, my dear half-sister.”

Seeing the interaction between the royal family, the crowd started to dissipate. Jacaerys e Lucerys left the training grounds as well, glad that the prince’s attention was not on them anymore.

Now all alone, you approached the eye-patched prince “Can we talk?” not taking no as an answer, you locked your hands on his arm, making Aemond get stiff.

So many years has passed, but you still caused him the same effect. Silently, the prince enjoyed the innocent contact, loving the felling of your torso rubbing against his toned arm.

“Long ago, you stopped sending me letters. Why?” you asked, bluntly.

“You never answered them, so I stopped writing.”

Stopping in your tracks, looking straight into his eye “The few that I received, I answered them right away. But suddenly, you stopped writing. Why?”

Scoffing, the prince replied “As I said before, my dear half-sister, you stopped writing, so did I.”

“I never stopped trying to reach you out, Aemond. I even sent your mother a raven, but she said you did not want to see me. So I ask again, my dear prince, why did you put me on arms length?”

Immediately, something clicked inside the Targaryen’s prince head. Obviously it was the doings of his own mother; she never liked you in the first place. But Aemond thought that, at least, after the incident at Driftmark, Alicent would warm up to you, but apparently, he thought wrong.

His blood started to boil. How dare his mother try to stay in the way between you two? His nostrils flared up; he locked his jaw tightly, gritting his teeth.

Feeling your soft hand, now smaller than his, interlocking your fingers pulled him away from his enraged state “Aemond, what—“ “I’m really sorry about this misunderstanding.” he apologized, engaging a hug.

Got by surprise, you hesitantly put your hands on his back, slowly giving into his embrace.

Aemond finally felt at peace. Feeling your hands around him and how his toned arms circled your waist, almost made him forget of his rage against his mother, almost. Sniffing your scent for the last time, the prince left you, promising to talk and explain everything to you after he was done with his business.

Dropping his reassuring smile, the prince stormed into the keep, going straight to his mother’s bed chambers.

Not even greeting Ser Cole, Aemond locked the doors as soon as he passed through them, only listening to the knight’s knocking.

Hearing all the commotion, Alicent beelined to her living room, facing her second son “Aemond? What are you doing here? You can’t enter my bed chambers like that, what if—“ “Spear me from your lecture, mother.”

Feeling shocked by her son’s harsh words, she continued “And this is how you speak to your mother? Your queen?”

Aemond smirked, mockingly. Suddenly, the young man caught his mother by her throat, lightly lifting her from the floor, letting her balance herself on her tiptoes “Don’t pull the ‘your Queen’ card right now, mother. If you haven’t noticed, my patience is running thin.”

Alicent fisted her son’s wrist, trying to sooth his grip. Seeing that he not even bulged, she cried out “Aemond, plea—“ “As I said before, my patience is ending. I’ll give you one chance, and believe me when I say few got this benefit: did you barred my half-sister’s letters?”

The queen’s eyes winded, but she stayed silent, probably paralyzed by fear. Seeing her state, Aemond did not needed a verbal answer: just looking at her gave away her guiltiness.

He let her break free, making Alicent instantly tear to the ground, coughing and gasping for air, uncontrollably.

Aemond’s jaw was tightly shut. Feeling betrayed by his own mother, he started to rant “You knew how important she was to me, and still, you deprived me of seeing her and did not even let me get news from her! You left me in the dark, and you saw how it was killing me, but even so, you did nothing!”

The prince’s voice escalated along with his rage, which was increasing with time. Feeling the need to take his anger on something, he threw the coffe table against the wall, making the Queen gasp in horror.

“Aemond,” she tried to reason with her son “I did this only to protect you! I thrust her as much as you do, but you must understand that the circumstances—“ “Don’t you dare lie to me again!” he slammed his hands on another table “Admit you were jealous of her, of her proximity to me. You always despised her, there’s no need to lie!”

Rilling up as well, Alicent exploded “Of course I always hated her! She’s Rhaenyra’s sister, Aemond! She would do anything to help her kin! To stole your brother’s throne!” with tear cascading her cheeks, she continued, approaching her son “And of course I was jealous, Aemond! You’re my son! Mine! But you never ran up to me when you were sad, hurt or happy! It was always her! Even at Driftmark, when her own nephew stabbed your eye, you ran up to her! You didn’t even let me accompany you at the nursery! And—“

Sobs interrupted her speech. But now that she started to talk, she was not going to back off “Do you think she genuinely loves you, Aemond? Like I do?”

The prince looked at her with warning eye “Watch your tongue.”

Feeling bold, Alicent continued, not listening to her son’s threat, facing him fearlessly “Don’t you ever thought that, maybe, she just treated you well to do this? Put you against me? Your own mother? Don’t you ever thought that she’s as cruel, manipulative and a whore as much as her—“ “Don’t you dare talk about her like that!”

Aemond pounced on her mother, now fully strangling her. His knuckles were white with his bruising grip, eye completely fogged by hatred. His nostrils was flaring up, teeth gritting madly.

With the little oxygen that lasted on her lungs, Alicent was able to call out to Ser Criston Cole, who immediately opened the doors, running to save the Queen.

Along with the knight were Otto Hightower, who coincidentally were passing by his daughter’s corridor.

“What in the seven hells happened here?” the hand lord exasperated, demanding an answer.

“We had a heated discussion, father” Alicent explained with her voice sore due to her son’s strangulation.

Sensing he wouldn’t get no more details about the incident, Otto coughed, as if putting an end to the matter “I was going to remind you of tonight’s dinner, which begins on a few minutes. Our king decided to attend it, so I was going to ask my Queen to ask her children to be on their best behavior.” Otto gave Aemond a meaningful look.

“I don’t care what this discussion was about. What matters is that this behavior can’t happen again during the dinner. Are we clear?” Alicent silently nodded, while Aemond stayed motionless by his grandfather speech.

Later, the whole house Targaryen sat at the fancy dining room. An uncomfortable silence dominated the group, tension so thick it could be cut by a knife.

King Viserys, as usual, tried to reason with his family that was bound to break in two, yet only he denied to see the truth “With that being said,” the sick king, with the help of his loyal wife, stayed up “me and my dear second daughter discussed and agreed that, in the name of peace, she shall be betrothed to her half-brother, Aegon Targaryen.”

Aemond’s heart stopped beating. The whole time, his infuriated gaze was directed to his mother, who would avert her own with all of her might; but now, he gazed incredulously to his father. He didn’t even notice when he stood up from his chair, flying to his mother’s throat.

Caos broke loose in the room. The king was immediately withdrawn from the scene, leaving Daemon alongside the others guards to separate the infuriated prince from the Queen.

On the other side of the chamber, you saw how animalisticly your dear little half-brother acted. He was no longer that sweet boy that easily cried with his older brother’s bullying: now he was a man, and a very dangerous one.

You cried hopelessly: how things take a turn like that? You thought that agreeing to the betrothal, you could finally reunite your family, but instead, here you are, seeing who was once your favorite person in the world trying to kill his own mother.

Even though Aemond were the best swordsman on the realm, he were not able to defeat Daemon and all of the Keep’s guards. “Lead the Prince to the dungeon. Tomorrow morning we will discuss with the small council what shall be decided of the prince’s future.” as Otto commanded, the guards escorted Aemond, who was now unconscious.

You offered yourself to accompany Alicent to the nursery to check upon her bruised throat. As expected, Ser Cole went along, only a few feet away from you.

“I’m so sorry with what happened, my Queen.” you morned, while helping Alicent walk through the hallway “I know prince Aemond since he was just a little kid. I would never expect such a horrifying act from him. It seems like I don’t even know him anymore.”

Moaning in pain, Alicent commented “I think both of us never truly knew him.”

Getting to the nursery, seeing the state of their Queen, the maids promptly took and laid her on a bed reserved to the royal family.

Staying by her side, she started to softly cry “I never should have tried to stay between you two, you know?”

Trying to stop her crying, you gently brushed her messed hair out of her face “Shhh… I must confess I don’t know what you are talking about, my Queen, but you shouldn’t be blaming yourself for what happened.”

Giving you a saddened smile, Queen Alicent continued to apologize “I appreciate your kind words, my dear, but I do have a portion of guilt on Aemond’s behavior.”

Gulping, you finally asked “If I may ask you: what could you have done to make him have such a reaction, my Queen?”

Seeing your confused eyes and caring acts, she confessed “I barred all of your letters to prince Aemond, and I also lied about him not wanting to see you.” your heart clenched, but still continued to sooth her hair down.

“And why would you do that? What would you gain from it?”

Alicent nipped her lips “I was afraid and jealous. My paranoia took over me. I was convinced that you were only being nice with my son just to destroy my family. Also, I’ve always envied how close you two were. Aemond never loved me like he loves you.”

“Nonsense, my Queen. Aemond always told me how he wished to make you proud. That’s why he’s so dedicated.” you brushed her off, with a little giggle.

“Well, it can also be true, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried his best just to impress you, my dear. My son’s crush on you didn’t go unnoticed by me back in the days.” she too giggled, remembering how flustered the boy got when others brought you up. Obviously, back than she disapproved vehemently, but seeing how caring you are, Alicent couldn’t blame his son for falling for you.

“You are so gentle and caring, I don’t blame my son for falling for you.” she looked straight into your eyes “I’m sorry for making things come to this point. If I never have felt insecure and suspicious of you, things would may be different.” she sobbed once again, feeling regret consuming her soul.

“Don’t blame yourself, my Queen. You did what you thought was right to protect your son.” you embraced her, like you used to embrace Aemond. Feeling her tears stain your dress, you let Alicent pour her heart out.

Calming a little, she sat up, encasing your hands between hers “Now that I know your genuine feelings, I must apologize for misjudging you. Yet, now that I know my son’s true colors, I’m afraid I’ve put you in danger my dear. I don’t want my son to rot on a cell, but my heart wouldn’t bear to bring you anymore harm.”

Your reassuring smile faltered. If Aemond was able to hurt his own mother, you feared what he could do to you. But even so, a part of you still believed he would never touch you.

Cupping your cheeks, Alicent continued “Now, listen to me, dear. It’s clear that Aemond is completely obsessed with you, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. We must take this opportunity, and send you as far as we can!”

You looked perplexed at her “Wait, but what about my betrothal? And my family? You?! What makes you so confident that Aemond won’t go after you for answers?”

Grunting in frustration, Alicent still insisted “We and the council will figure something out. Please, let me help you scape, as a form of apologizing for all the caos I brought to you.”

With the Queen’s begging, you couldn’t help but agree with her plan. Unfortunately, your conspiracy plans was cut short due to the shouts coming outside the nursery.

“Fire!”

Smelling the scent of smoke, you looked terrified at the Queen who ordered “Fast, we must reach the outside!”

Throwing her arm o your shoulders, you and Queen Alicent stumbled through the flaming hallways, crumbling with the fire.

Finally reaching the gardens, you could breath properly, coughing out the smoke off of your lungs. Once again, your feelings of security was throw out the window when you heard a loud roar.

Immediately, Vaghar stomped on the Keep’s wreckages, spitting fire at the only way out of the garden.

“Shit.” Alicent cussed, trying to stand up doing to the impact of Vaghar���s landing “We are cornered!”

Feeling despair pumping on your veins, you tried to run anywhere, getting the Queen’s wrist.

However, sensing her stillness, you turned back, facing Alicent being impaled by Aemond’s sword.

Letting out a gasp of horror, you let go of her wrist, trying to run away, but you stumbled, falling to the floor.

Retrieving his sword and cleaning it, Aemond tuck it on his belt again, now approaching you warily. “There’s no need to be afraid. Now no one can stop us from staying together.”

“You killed her…” you stated, still in shock, while gazing at her dead body a few feets away from you.

Cooing at you, like you used to do to him when he was still a child, he tuck a strand of hair that stubbornly stayed on you face “I had to, or else, they wouldn’t let us be together. Now we are free to do as we please; we could even marry.”

“…marry?” you repeated his words, dumbfounded “but, I’m already betrothed to your brother, and I never saw you in—“ “Shhh… there’s no need to worry your pretty little head about this right now, okay? That drunkard is no longer of our concern, I already took care of him.”

Still petting your hair, you scrambled with your words “I-But… I don’t want to marry you! You were my little brother, remember? I could never see you in that way!”

Aemond let out a joyous laugh, too excited to finally have you all to himself to be angry at your denial “Don’t worry, darling; you’ll have enough time to you recognize me as a man, and in the future, as your husband.”

You didn’t react when the prince’s lips crashed hungrily at yours. In your catatonic state, you could only think about how your life came to this moment, being fervidly groped by the man you once adored. Your family was dead. Now, you were all alone with your little half-brother, who claimed you as his. Realizing your future, you could only cry silently.

[luminoustarlight]

anakin would make sex soso messy but so hot. like it’s even hotter bc his hygiene is impeccable and he smells great n all - but he just gets messyyy in bed. like he wants to see you striped all over w his cum, wants to spit on u (and vice versa sometimes), loves getting u wett asf. and his hair WILL be messy like those waves are jus so ugh mussed up in the most gorgeous way. & all that combined w his incessant dirty talk makes the experience feel so forbidden between you two. i can’t deal. this def also applies for james kelly/clay my FAVS

pls cld i be 🫧bubbles anon hehe <3

oh YOU ARE RUINING ME WITH THIS MY DEAR BUBBLES.

anakin has STAMINA too. he can go all. night. long. so even if you’re tired and you’re spent, anakin is gonna keep going and he wants to see you a wreck. he wants to see the spoils of his cum dripping and dried between your legs.

he’s the kind of guy who will degrade you while also praising you and i will die on this hill.

“my good little cum slut. look at you. my beautiful mess.”

when you say “more” he says “greedy little thing. haven’t i given you enough?”

“it’s not enough that i’ve cum inside of you, on your pretty little tits, in your mouth? what’s next? want me to cum in your tight ass? huh? is that it? dirty whore.”

🍒 sin saturday

[tosomeonessomeone]

Unbound.

words・ 5.3k /pairings・Lee know x Afab!reader / genres・ slightly angst, don’t worry there is a happy ending/ warnings・ mentions of violence and a fake suicide letter.

This amazing anon send this incredible request, hope you enjoy it ✨ My darling, you made me forget my university duties just to write this amazing piece. Dear Lord, I hope you enjoy it. The credit is all yours for this amazing idea! L.MH X AFAB READER - slow burn forbidden love (slight angst) but happy ending! Also imagine the song is old😅 if you’re able to it’s set in the older days (language is more well spoken and mannered etc..) Y/N slips out the window. She was wearing a commoner outfit as a disguise. A hood over her head, given that she was the princess, her father would naturally never allow her to leave the palace grounds. She walks into the popular dive bar that she had heard about by the other commoners. She sits to the side, amazed by the man's captivating voice and performance of "Call Out My Name" by The Weeknd, but quite emotional (or any other song of your choice). She stares at the man, his voice is beautiful. The lighting is perfect and ambient, and when the charismatic singer catches her eye, seeing the awe written all over her face, he sings harder. After looking for a second longer he instantly recognises those beautiful eyes. ‘The Princess,’ he thought. (i’ve left it open if you’d like to carry on this scene!) A fresh prisoner was later thrown into a cell a few days later. Upon realising the lyrics that echoed the cold walls, one of the many prisoners was singing very quietly as she walked by, the princess asks the guards who it was, to which they respond that it was a new prisoner who entered the castle grounds without permission. She gives the order for all the guards to leave and enters the prisoner holding area. The singing paused, "Princess," was murmured from the dark cell. THE REST IS UP TO YOU :D if you’re confused the singer is Minho! ✨

Y/N's heart raced as she slipped out of the castle window, the cool night air enveloping her in a cloak of secrecy. Dressed in a simple commoner's attire, she pulled the hood over her head, concealing her identity from the prying eyes of the palace guards. Her father, the king, would never approve of her nocturnal excursions into the bustling town below.

Stepping onto the cobblestone streets, Y/N marveled at the sights and sounds of the common folk going about their lives. Lanterns cast a warm glow, illuminating the narrow alleyways and quaint shops that lined the bustling marketplace.

Guided by whispers and rumors, Y/N found herself drawn to a dimly lit pub tucked away in a quiet corner of the town. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, she was greeted by the scent of ale and the soft murmur of conversation. The atmosphere was alive with anticipation, the air thick with the promise of secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Taking a seat in the shadows, Y/N watched as the crowd hushed, their attention drawn to the stage where a lone figure stood bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. His presence commanded the room, his voice weaving a spell that held everyone captive.

As the first notes of the song filled the air, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. It was a melody she had never heard before, yet it stirred something deep within her soul. Mesmerized, she watched as the singer poured his heart into each word, his voice a haunting echo of longing and desire.

And then, their eyes met.

In that fleeting moment, time stood still. The world faded away, leaving only the two of them bound by an invisible thread of fate. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she gazed into the depths of his soul, recognizing something familiar yet unknown in those dark, soulful eyes.

Lee Minho felt a jolt of recognition surge through him. Those eyes, he thought, as he continued to sing, each note infused with newfound fervor. They were the same eyes that had haunted his dreams, the ones he had glimpsed in passing at court gatherings and royal ceremonies.

The intensity of her gaze spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the connection they shared, hidden beneath layers of duty and expectation. For a brief moment, their worlds collided, converging in a silent understanding that defied the boundaries of status and privilege.

As the song reached its crescendo, Minho poured his soul into each verse, his voice a reflection of the emotions swirling within him. In that dimly lit pub, amidst the curious stares and whispered rumors, he sang not just for the crowd, but for her – the princess who dared to venture beyond the confines of her gilded cage.

And as the final notes hung in the air, Minho held her gaze, a silent promise echoing between them. In that fleeting moment, he knew that their encounter was no mere coincidence, but the beginning of a journey fraught with challenges and obstacles, yet brimming with the possibility of a love that transcended time and expectation.

As Y/N hurriedly made her way through the bustling streets, her heart still resonating with the echoes of Minho's soulful melody, she felt a sudden tug on her arm. Instinctively, she tensed, ready to defend herself against any potential threat that lurked in the shadows.

But as she turned to face her assailant, her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in disbelief. Standing before her was none other than Lee Minho himself, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.

"Please, forgive my intrusion," Minho spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "but I could not let you leave without knowing... without understanding."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, torn between the thrill of his proximity and the weight of the forbidden allure that bound them together. She searched his eyes, seeking answers to the questions that lay heavy on her heart.

"What is it that you seek?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, her resolve faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze.

Minho reached out, his touch gentle yet determined, his fingers brushing against her cheek with a tenderness that ignited a spark within her soul. "I seek only the truth," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity, "I am Lee Minho, your highness."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Lee Minho knelt before her, his words reverberating with a solemnity that stirred something deep within her soul. "Rise, Minho," she whispered urgently, her voice tinged with urgency. "Please, there's no need for formalities."

Minho obeyed, rising to his feet with a grace that belied the intensity of his emotions. His eyes searched hers, a silent plea for understanding lingering in their depths.

"We must be cautious," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of the street. "If they were to discover my true identity, it would spell disaster for us both."

Minho nodded, his expression tinged with understanding. "Minho," Y/N whispered, her voice laden with longing and vulnerability, "please, call me by my name."

Her plea hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting them across the vast expanse of uncertainty and fear. In that moment, she longed to shed the weight of her royal title, to revel in the simple intimacy of being seen and known for who she truly was.

Minho's eyes softened at her words, a tender smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Y/N" he murmured, the sound of her name a melody that resonated deep within his soul. 

As they walked through the winding streets, Y/N could feel Minho's gaze burning into her back, his questions hanging heavy in the air like unspoken secrets. She quickened her pace, her heart racing with the weight of her own uncertainties.

"Why did you sneak out of the castle, Y/N?" Minho's voice broke through the silence, his tone tinged with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Y/N paused, her steps faltering for a moment as she struggled to find the words to explain the tangled web of emotions that had led her to this moment. "I needed to escape," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "To breathe, to feel alive... even if just for a fleeting moment."

Minho's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze searching hers for answers that even she could not fully articulate. "But why now? What drove you to take such a risk?"

Y/N hesitated, her thoughts racing as she grappled with the weight of her own desires and fears. "The walls of the castle were closing in on me," she admitted, her voice tinged with sorrow. "I needed to remind myself of who I am... of the woman beneath the crown."

Minho listened intently as Y/N spoke of the burdens she carried as the future queen of her realm, the weight of duty and expectation pressing down upon her like a heavy cloak. Though he could not fully comprehend the intricacies of her position, he knew one thing for certain – he wanted to make her feel alive, to help her rediscover the essence of who she truly was.

With each step they took through the moonlit streets, Minho sought to unravel the layers of Y/N's identity, to peel back the facade of royalty and reveal the woman hidden beneath. He understood that her heart longed for freedom, for the simple joys of life untethered by the constraints of tradition and obligation.

And so, Minho took a firm grip on her wrist, Y/N allowed herself to be led through the labyrinthine streets until they emerged into the heart of the village, where a vibrant fair was in full swing. The air was alive with the tantalizing aroma of sizzling food, the melodic strains of music, and the infectious laughter of revelers lost in the moment.

As they stepped into the bustling square, Y/N's senses were overwhelmed by the kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that surrounded them. Colorful banners fluttered in the breeze, casting playful shadows against the cobblestone streets, while vendors beckoned with trays of steaming delicacies and glittering trinkets.

Minho's eyes sparkled with mischief as he surveyed the lively scene, his smile infectious as he offered Y/N his hand, inviting her to join in the festivities. Without hesitation, she accepted, her heart pounding with excitement as they wove their way through the throng of people, their laughter mingling with the joyful cacophony of the crowd.

They sampled exotic dishes from far-off lands, their taste buds tingling with the flavors of adventure and discovery. They danced to the rhythm of the music, their bodies swaying in perfect harmony beneath the starlit sky. And amidst the chaos and revelry, they found a moment of peace, a respite from the demands of the world beyond.

For Y/N, it was a glimpse of the life she had always longed for – a life unfettered by the constraints of royalty, where she could revel in the simple pleasures of the present moment. 

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Y/N found solace in the clandestine meetings with Minho, each encounter a precious treasure hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. Sneaking out of the castle became a ritual, a secret escape into a world where titles and expectations held no sway, where she could simply be herself, free from the weight of her crown.

In Minho, she found not only a kindred spirit but a true friend – someone who saw beyond the facade of royalty and embraced her for the woman she truly was. Together, they laughed and talked, sharing dreams and secrets beneath the twinkling stars, their bond growing stronger with each stolen moment.

In Minho's company, Y/N discovered the beauty of simplicity, the joy of living in the present moment. Whether they were strolling through the bustling marketplace or sharing a quiet meal by the riverbank, every experience was imbued with a sense of wonder and possibility, a testament to the transformative power of love.

And amidst the laughter and the shared moments, Y/N felt something stirring deep within her heart – a flutter of emotion that defied rational explanation. Was it admiration? Affection? Perhaps even love? She dared not speak its name, afraid to confront the tumultuous sea of emotions that threatened to consume her fragile heart.

But in the quiet moments of solitude, as she lay awake beneath the cover of darkness, she allowed herself to entertain the possibility – the possibility that in Minho, she had found not only a friend but a soulmate, someone who understood her in a way no one else ever could.

And as she looked to the future, uncertain yet filled with promise, Y/N knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, she would face them with Minho by her side, their love a beacon of hope in a world shrouded by darkness. For in him, she had found not only friendship but the true essence of her own heart.

As the moon cast its silvery glow over the labyrinthine streets, Y/N ventured out into the night, her heart heavy with anticipation and longing. With each step, she searched every familiar corner, every hidden alcove, hoping to catch a glimpse of Minho's familiar figure amidst the shadows.

But the streets remained empty, devoid of his presence, and the silence echoed with the hollow ache of disappointment. She dared not speak to anyone, fearing the consequences of being recognized, of having her secret world exposed to the unforgiving light of day.

With a heavy heart, Y/N retraced her steps, her footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy upon her shoulders, casting a shadow over the once-familiar landscape. And as she returned to the confines of the castle, a sense of loneliness enveloped her like a suffocating shroud, the emptiness of her heart echoing in the cavernous halls.

In the solitude of her chambers, Y/N allowed herself to succumb to the melancholy that threatened to consume her, her thoughts consumed by the absence of the one person who had come to mean so much to her. She wondered where he was, what had kept him from their clandestine rendezvous, and whether he was safe.

The very next day as Y/N made her way through the dimly lit corridors near the dungeon, the haunting melody of the prisoner's song echoed against the cold stone walls, tugging at the strings of her heart with an inexplicable urgency. Ignoring the curious glances of the guards, she pressed forward, driven by a sense of determination that burned bright within her chest.

Reaching the entrance to the prisoner holding area, Y/N issued a commanding order, her voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty that lingered beneath the surface. "Leave us," she commanded, her words carrying the weight of authority.

The guards exchanged wary glances but obeyed, their footsteps echoing into the distance until only silence remained, broken only by the soft strains of the prisoner's song.

With each step she took, Y/N's heart pounded in anticipation, her pulse quickening with the knowledge that she was about to come face to face with the mysterious singer who had captured her attention so completely.

And then, she saw him – a solitary figure huddled in the darkness of his cell, his features obscured by shadows yet somehow familiar. As their eyes met, a shiver of recognition coursed through Y/N's veins, her breath catching in her throat at the realization of who stood before her.

"Princess," his voice was barely a whisper, filled with a mixture of reverence and disbelief.

Y/N's heart quickened as she stepped closer to the cell, the dim torchlight flickering against the cold stone walls. "Minho," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the dungeon.

Lee Minho stood up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the sudden presence of light. His rugged features softened as he gazed at the princess standing before him, her regal demeanor contrasting with the darkness surrounding them.

"Princess, what are you doing here?" Minho's voice was hoarse, filled with a mixture of surprise and concern.

Y/N reached through the iron bars, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the rough surface. "What are YOU doing here?!" Y/N's voice trembled with a mixture of concern and disbelief as she confronted Minho through the iron bars. Her heart raced with a myriad of emotions, each one vying for dominance in the tumultuous sea of her thoughts.

Minho's expression softened, a flicker of sadness dancing in his eyes as he met Y/N's gaze. "I... I had no choice," he confessed, his voice heavy with regret. "I was caught trying to enter the castle grounds without permission. They saw me as a threat, a trespasser in their world."

Y/N's heart ached at the pain in his voice, the weight of his words sinking deep into her soul. "But why, Minho?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and desperation. "Why would you risk everything to come here?"

Minho's gaze met Y/N's, his eyes reflecting the tumult of emotions swirling within his soul. "Because I couldn't bear to be apart from you," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "Every moment without you feels like an eternity, every heartbeat a reminder of the void you've left in my life."

Minho watched in astonishment as Y/N, the princess, rose to her feet with a newfound sense of determination, her regal presence commanding the attention of all who stood witness to the scene unfolding before them. In that moment, he saw her in a different light – not just as the object of his affection, but as a leader, a force to be reckoned with.

With unwavering resolve, Y/N turned to the guards, her voice ringing out with authority. "Release him," she commanded, her words carrying the weight of her station.

The guards hesitated, their eyes flickering between the princess and the prisoner, uncertainty etched upon their faces. But they knew better than to defy her direct order, and with a solemn nod, they set to work unlocking the heavy iron bars that had held Minho captive.

As Minho stepped into the cool night air, his heart heavy with the weight of their parting, Y/N remained standing in the dimly lit dungeon, her gaze fixed upon the empty cell that had once held the key to her heart. In that moment, she felt a sense of resolve wash over her, a determination to defy the odds and carve out a future where their love could thrive.

With unwavering determination, she whispered softly to Minho's retreating figure, her voice barely above a whisper yet filled with conviction. "Go," she urged, her words carrying the weight of her resolve. "Find sanctuary beyond these walls, and know that I will find a way for us to be together."

Minho turned back, his eyes widening in disbelief at the promise that hung in the air between them. In Y/N's unwavering gaze, he saw the reflection of his own hopes and dreams, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to engulf them both.

With a silent nod of gratitude, Minho disappeared into the shadows, his heart filled with renewed hope and determination. For in Y/N's whispered vow, he found the promise of a future where their love could flourish, unfettered by the constraints of duty and expectation.

As days turned into weeks, Minho's heart grew heavy with each passing moment of silence from the princess. Despite the whispered promises and vows of devotion, he couldn't shake the gnawing sense of unease that lingered at the edges of his consciousness. The absence of communication weighed heavily upon him, casting a shadow over his hopes for their future together.

Meanwhile, within the walls of the castle, rumors began to swirl like tendrils of smoke, carrying whispers of the princess's forbidden love. With each passing day, the whispers grew louder, the truth of Y/N's affection for a commoner spreading like wildfire through the halls of power.

As the rumors reached the king's ears, his rage knew no bounds. His daughter, the princess, the future queen of the realm, entangled in a romance with a mere commoner – it was a betrayal of the highest order, a stain upon the honor of the royal family.

Fueled by fury and righteous indignation, the king's wrath knew no bounds. He raged against the injustice of it all, his mind consumed by visions of betrayal and defiance. The very thought of his daughter consorting with a commoner filled him with a sense of profound betrayal, a wound that cut deeper than any sword.

Alone in the grand chamber, Y/N stood before her father, the king, her heart heavy with the weight of his disappointment and fury. The air crackled with tension, the echoes of his rage reverberating against the ornate walls adorned with symbols of their noble lineage.

Her father's voice boomed through the chamber, each word a thunderous indictment of her actions, a condemnation of the love that had led her astray. "You have brought disgrace upon our family name," he roared, his voice laced with anger and betrayal. "To consort with a commoner, to forsake your duty as a princess – it is a betrayal of the highest order."

Y/N stood in silence, her gaze fixed upon the floor, her heart heavy with the weight of his words. She had known that defying her father's wishes would come with consequences, but she had never imagined the depth of his fury, the extent of his disappointment.

As the king's tirade continued, Y/N felt a surge of defiance rising within her, a quiet resolve to stand firm in the face of adversity. She would not apologize for following her heart, for daring to love someone who saw her for who she truly was, beyond the trappings of royalty and duty.

With a quiet resolve, she met her father's gaze, her eyes burning with a fire that refused to be extinguished. "Father," she began, her voice steady despite the tremor of fear that lingered beneath the surface. "I cannot deny the depth of my feelings. I cannot forsake the one who has captured my heart, even if it means defying your wishes."

The king's eyes flashed with fury, his expression darkening with anger at her defiance. "You dare to defy me, your own father, your king?" he thundered, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and outrage. "Know this, daughter – if you dare to see this commoner again, I will have him executed without hesitation."

Y/N's heart clenched at the weight of his words, the enormity of his threat looming large in her mind. She knew that to defy him would mean risking everything – not only her own life but the life of the man she loved.

And yet, even as she stood on the precipice of uncertainty, she knew that she could not turn her back on Minho, could not abandon the one who had shown her the true meaning of love and acceptance. For in his arms, she had found sanctuary, a refuge from the storm that raged within her soul.

With a silent vow, Y/N braced herself for the trials that lay ahead, knowing that no matter the challenges they faced, she and Minho would face them together, united in their love and unwavering in their resolve. And as she turned to leave the chamber, her heart heavy with the weight of their forbidden love, she knew that their bond would endure, steadfast and unyielding, bound by the unbreakable ties of their hearts.

Under the cover of darkness, Y/N stole away from the castle, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision. In the quiet stillness of the night, she left behind the only life she had ever known, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridors like whispers of a farewell.

With each step, the weight of her father's threats pressed down upon her, a suffocating burden that threatened to consume her spirit. The thought of a life without Minho, without the freedom to love and be loved, filled her with a profound sense of despair.

And so, with trembling hands and a resolve born of desperation, Y/N penned a letter, her words a silent testament to the depth of her anguish. In it, she confessed her decision to end her own life, to escape the tyranny of her father's wrath and find peace in the quiet embrace of death.

Leaving the letter behind as a silent farewell, Y/N fled into the night, her heart heavy with grief yet kept by a glimmer of hope. With nothing but the clothes on her back and a small pouch of coins clutched tightly in her hand, she set out into the unknown, determined to carve out a new life for herself, far from the shadows of the past.

As the first light of dawn broke upon the horizon, Y/N disappeared into the embrace of the night, her fate unknown, her heart aching with the weight of her decision. And as she vanished into the depths of the unknown, she knew that her journey was just beginning – a journey fraught with peril and uncertainty, yet filled with the promise of redemption and renewal.

As Y/N slipped through the quiet streets, her heart pounding with each step, she knew that her destination lay in the arms of the one she loved. With every passing moment, the weight of her decision pressed down upon her, a heavy burden that threatened to crush her spirit.

And then, as she reached the familiar threshold of Minho's dwelling, her heart leaped with anticipation, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him standing before her. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, the world fading away until only the two of them remained, bound by the invisible threads of fate and forbidden love.

Minho's eyes widened in disbelief as he beheld the vision before him, his heart stuttering in his chest at the sight of Y/N standing there, her presence a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf them both. He couldn't believe his eyes, couldn't fathom the reality of her standing there before him, her beauty illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight.

Unable to speak, unable to move, Minho stood rooted to the spot, his gaze locked with hers in a silent exchange of longing and desperation. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the echo of their hearts beating as one, the promise of a love that defied the boundaries of time and circumstance.

And as Y/N stepped forward, her hand outstretched in silent invitation, Minho knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment when their love would transcend the trials and tribulations that had threatened to tear them apart. With trembling hands, he reached out to her, his fingers intertwining with hers in a silent vow of solidarity and devotion.

In the throes of emotion, Minho's heart pulsed with an urgency he couldn't contain. With a surge of longing and determination, he closed the distance between them, his hand tenderly cupping Y/N's cheek as he drew her closer.

In a moment of pure desperation and unbridled passion, their lips met in a fervent kiss, a culmination of all the longing and yearning that had simmered between them for so long. It was a kiss filled with the intensity of their love, a silent declaration of their unwavering commitment to each other.

In that fleeting instant, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away as they lost themselves in the intoxicating embrace of each other's lips. It was a kiss born of desperation and longing, a testament to the depth of their connection and the power of their love.

And as they finally pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, their eyes met in a silent exchange of understanding and devotion. In that moment, amidst the quiet intimacy of their shared embrace, Minho and Y/N knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of their love.

As Y/N revealed her plans to Minho, her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable carrying the weight of her decision. With trembling hands, she showed him the sack of coins, a symbol of their newfound freedom, a chance to start anew in a world untainted by the constraints of royalty.

As she spoke of her letter, her voice quivered with emotion, the weight of her words a stark reminder of the sacrifices she had made to be with him. "I am dead to my royal life," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But with you, Minho, I am alive in ways I never thought possible."

Minho's heart swelled with a mixture of awe and disbelief, his mind reeling at the magnitude of her sacrifice. To leave behind everything she had ever known, to forsake her birthright in pursuit of a love that defied the boundaries of tradition and expectation – it was a testament to the depth of her devotion, a testament to the power of their love.

In that moment, amidst the quiet intimacy of their shared revelation, Minho knew that he had found not only a lover but a kindred spirit, a soulmate who understood the true essence of his being. With tears glistening in his eyes, he reached out to Y/N, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a silent gesture of solidarity and acceptance.

"Together, we will forge a new path," he vowed, his voice tinged with reverence and gratitude. "A path free from the shackles of our past, free to love and be loved without fear or reservation."

With a sense of urgency driving his every movement, Minho hurried to gather the few possessions he had accumulated over the years. His hands moved with purpose as he packed the essentials into a bag, his mind focused on the task at hand – to ensure that they had everything they needed for their journey into the unknown.

As he secured the last item into the bag, Minho's heart swelled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This was it – the moment they had been waiting for, the chance to leave behind the confines of their old lives and embark on a new adventure together.

With a sense of determination coursing through his veins, Minho led their horse to where Y/N stood waiting, her eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Gently, he helped her onto the horse, his hands steady as he settled himself behind her, their bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other.

As they checked to ensure that they had everything they needed, Minho felt a surge of excitement building within him. They were leaving behind the familiar comforts of home, venturing into the great unknown with nothing but each other to guide them.

With a silent nod of reassurance, Minho urged the horse forward, their journey unfolding before them like a tapestry waiting to be woven. And as they rode off into the distance, their hearts filled with hope and determination, they knew that no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, united in their love and unwavering in their resolve. 

As they rode away from the village, Minho and Y/N stole one last glance over their shoulders, their eyes lingering on the familiar sights of the world they were leaving behind. The village, with its winding streets and bustling marketplace, seemed to shimmer in the fading light of dusk, a testament to the life they had known, the life they were leaving behind.

And there, in the distance, loomed the imposing silhouette of the castle, its turrets reaching toward the sky like sentinels guarding the secrets of the past. For Y/N, it was a symbol of duty and tradition, a reminder of the life she had been born into but could no longer abide.

But as they rode further and further away, the castle and the village began to fade into the distance, their outlines blurred by the passage of time and the promise of a new beginning. In that moment, amidst the quiet stillness of the evening, Minho and Y/N knew that they were leaving behind more than just a place – they were leaving behind the constraints of their old lives, the expectations that had bound them for so long.

With each passing moment, the horizon stretched out before them, a vast expanse of possibility and adventure waiting to be explored. And as they rode into the unknown, their hearts filled with hope and anticipation, they knew that no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, united in their love and unwavering in their resolve.

For in each other's arms, they had found the courage to defy the odds, to carve out a future that was uniquely their own. And as they disappeared into the fading light of the evening, their hearts ablaze with the promise of tomorrow, they knew that their love would be the guiding light that led them through the darkness, a beacon of hope in a world filled with uncertainty.

[insomniakisses]

Hi, I am new in your blog and have a request, could you make an Alpha!Rhaenyra and Omega!reader where the reader is Rhaenyra's younger sister and both are in love with each other but Viserys doesn't allow them to marry, so the two go to Dragonstone to marry and consummate their marriage

sorry if there are any words wrong english is not my first language

Forbidden Love

Character: Rhaenyra Targaryen (HOTD)

Warnings/notes: Omegaverse au, mentions of arranged marriages, incest, sister!rhaenyra, alpha!targaryen, omega!reader, fem!reader, your dragon is the cannibal, nicknamed chomp by cowboy anon and me, sexual scenes later on. NSFW MINORS DNI (Viseyris is an omega lets be honest sooo Alpha! Alicent and Omega!Viserys)

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NO!” You wince at the sound of your fathers voice carrying through the halls, knowing exactly what it is he is refusing, the marriage between you and your older sister rhaenyra had been a topic of discussion these past months. Ever since the death of laenor velarion, she seemed intent on marrying you.

You couldn’t argue, having loved her for a while now. There was however a great many obstacles to overcome before any type of marriage could be discussed.

The main, and most obvious obstacle was the king and queens adamants that the two of you would not marry. For your father, you knew it was simply that he wished to marry you to a stark to further cement an alliance to from north. Whereas, you weren’t certain on the Alicents reasoning. Perhaps it was that you would be a praised and perfect consort to rhaenyra, strengthen the publics reasonings for supporting her claim. Maybe it was that she saw you as her own and to think of you mated to her once friend, now enemy would be hard. You would never truly know the reason and you didn’t care all that much. You simply yearned for the comfort only rhaenyra seemed to grant you.

Taking a deep breath you entered the chambers of your father, alicent bolting to stand and welcome you in with a hug seeing thankful for the presence of someone not screaming at full volume.

“Father, please.”

You let out with a whine and he sighs cupoing your face before shaking his head. “My dear daughter, you are already promised.” He concludes flopping down in his seat as if the matter was simply over.

“BUT FATHER-“

“Enough! Your father needs to rest and I am quite frankly sick of hearing about this nonsense, seven hells!” Alicent all but roars, the alphas tone coming harsh and you whine in submission on instinct.

She softens at that, “come my dear,” she grabs you face leaning to kiss your head “you too should rest. Busy day tomorrow you will travel north to meet your betrothed.”

You sigh in defeat your eyes watering slightly at the feeling of how trapped you really are and you push her off angrily whipping your tears as you run to your room ignoring rhaenyra’s calls after you as you head to your chambers.

-

The sound of your door opening and closing alerts you from your place in bed. Climbing to your feet you make your way to the door freezing with a gasp when you see a hooded figure standing in the dark. As if sensing you were about to scream they made quick movement to you clasping their hand over your mouth.

“Shhhh baby, its me” you feel your whole body relax hearing her voice.

“RHAENYRA!” You whisper yell glaring as you slap her shoulder, she simply chuckles pulling you to her and placing a few kisses to your head.

“The boys are asleep and our dragons saddled, we should make haste” she whispers moving to wrap a cloak around you oblivious of your confusion.

“Make haste? Make haste where, where are we going!?” She smiles cupping your face ever so softly “To get married of course!”

You stare at her her in complete shock, “But the king-“ she rolls her eyes, “our father, will have to deal with it” she cuts you off leading you out of your room and through the secret passages until you were out of the palace, and in the dragon pit.

The soft chirps of Syrax and Chomp greet you as they make their way out from the dragon pit. Rubbing his snout you climb on chomp as rhaenyra sets off on syrax signalling for you to follow.

When you both land, she dismounts first moving to help you down and pulling u into a soft kiss before passing you a bag full of wedding clothes for you. Turning around and starting to dress into her own.

Now fully dressed you turn to each other walking hand in hand to the alter where the ceremony begins. You both go through the motions, until your cutting each others lips, drinking from the cup and leaning in for a soft kiss.

-

Your heart flutters at the knowledge your finally married, and you know she feels the same when she moves to pull you against her kisses you a few times before grinning against your neck.

“Well you may be my wife, but now I need to make you my mate” she smirks.

You blush as she picks you up, helping you to get seated on syrax before sitting behind you. She makes a point of kissing at your neck the whole ride her hand roaming wherever she felt like it.

The rides quick landing on a cliff somewhere that she had set up a few blankets and when you land she helps you down sending syrax off to give you guys some privacy.

She makes quick work of undressing before capturing your lips with hers. Her hands eagerly pulling the clothes from your body until you lay naked under her.

She cups the side of your neck and places gentle kisses and love bites till she reaches her desired target your scent gland that she places her mouth on and starts sucking and licking at letting out a deep rumble when you let out a whine and grip the back of her neck.

“Patience sweetling” she hums moving to capture your lips with her own in a wet kiss.

“Rhaeny-“ her lips on yours cut you off, moving to rub at your clit while she continues the kiss. The moving of hers on yours becoming faster and more heated both of you moaning into the kiss as she picks up the pace she rubs your clit.

“Seven hells” she grunts against your lips “so fucking wet for me” shes cocky, in the way she speaks, smirk pulling at her lips as she continues her kisses. Trailing her lips lover and lower taking the time to grope and suck at your breasts. Pinching the buds between her fingers and rolling and tugging at them cooing in fake sympathy when you whine and moan in response. Leaning to suck harshly at your skin.

“So so pretty, my baby, my sweet sweet sister all mine to use and breed” she groans, running her tongue against the skin of your thighs sucking and nipping the soft skin leaving purple and red marks in her wake. A trail leading right back up to your neck where she had started.

“P-please” you beg bucking up into her face as you clench around nothing your hole just begging to be stretched and abused by her thick cock.

“Patience baby, gotta make you nice and wet to take me don’t want to hurt this pretty little pussy now.” She seemingly takes pity on you then licking a stripe from your hole up to your clit. Her lips wrapping around it and sucking gently as she held your legs open her cock leaking pre against the mattress as if crying for her to give it some attention.

She gives your cunt a few more licks before focusing again on sucking your clit pushing two fingers into you slowly. “I know sweetling i know, be patient baby I promise to make it feel good” she coos when you whine in discomfort the feeling of something entering you for the first time slightly painful and uncomfortable.

She focuses on soft deep thrusts of her fingers twisting and curling them as she sucks your clit, moaning against you when she sees you reach to play with your tits. Biting your lip as you stare down at her. It spurs her to go faster until she has you cussing and crying out as your juices run down her chin and you shake clenching hard around her fingers as an orgasm rips through you.

“Mm,” she moans licking her fingers and lips clean as she moves up your body. “Think your ready baby”

Moving to rub her tip against your pussy she gathers your juices along her cock, pushing in slowly as she rubs your clit pulling you into a deep kiss.

Her thrusts start slow and deep getting you used to the stretch and weight of her big cock, before she slowly begins picking up the pace. Your pussy sucking her in with ever thrust and pre spurting into you every time you clench around her. She fights her every urge to jus grab your hips and pound, wanting your first time to be gentle and soft.

Shes kissing you softly as you moan into each others mouths, her hips picking up speed and she pulls all the way out before slamming back in you move to rub your clit while she gropes at your chest. Another orgasm rips through you as you yell out her name and a string of cuss words. “FUCK RHAENYRA! SHIT OH GOD! Mmm FUCK!”

You clench hard and she gasps closing her eyes. “Thats it baby fill me up” you groan and she can’t take it anymore, loud yell filling the room as she freezes spurt after spirt of cum filling you deep.

“Mm fuck you have the best fucking pussy baby” she kisses at your neck hips stuttering and dick still twitching from her orgasm.

Moving to pick up your legs she pins them against your chest moaning when she slips deeper.

“Ready for some more baby?” She smirks rubbing at your clit as you moan eagerly clenching around her cock silently begging for her to fill you up more. Give you all her cum and make you round with her pups.

[zyonsay]

This is what I get for only having 2 socials [tumblr and Snapchat] fr

-🚫

But smart choice. I only have tumblr and insta. Im specifically stopping myself from getting anywhere near tiktok

Im Never going back to that hell hole

ALSO idk if yall care, but im back in my Call of Duty phase and 🤏 this close to make a cosplay acc on insta

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Good afternoon! Can I request a fic with Claude Frollo x an albino!Fem!reader who is a very strict and prim aristocrat whom Frollo is madly in love with and is trying to win her over? thank you in advance!

My pale star

warning : kinda fluff, kiss, tiny comfort, implied obsession

Info : OMG I loveeee the concept of your request dear anon and the albino reader I had already an idea on what I want the outfit to look like. I really hope you like it and have fun reading ;)

cover by me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the bells rang for morning mass, the metal clashed and the rich and poor rushed to the church to cleanse themselves of their sins, she was among the masses.

He had always seen her, his white flower, his star that stood out from the crowd and that he could only see at night when she shone so beautifully.

He himself on his horse, which rode like a shadow through the streets of Paris, made his way to the church, always sending his carriage. Snowball knew he had to gallop quickly to get there before the people arrived and the judge arrived.

He got off his horse in front of the wooden door and got there a minute before she did. In his hand was the mass-produced ring, which he put back into the kelien casket when he saw the carriage arrive from the dark wood.

The horses white as the clouds overhead, white as the moon and the stars, white and pale as his favorite. His darling, his love, she had him completely under her spell.

It had been like a witch ever since he had seen her when she had lifted her veil to wipe away the tears that seemed to be in her eyes like the stars ever since he had looked under the clothes of the fine veil it had been true for him she was the most beautiful thing on this planet, free from sin and taking him with her.

All she had to do was return his love and it would be perfect. Watching as the Kutcher brought the horses to a halt and the diner jumped from the back of the carriage and opened the door, the first thing he saw was her white gloves.

He had only ever seen the light-colored fabric except for one day, but it only added to her extraordinary beauty. The white dress with the reddish ruffles embroidered by hand.

The long sleeves and slippers and on her head the veil under the white hood which only gave a hint of what her hair might look like. ,,Greetings this morning, my lady, may the Lord have mercy on your soul," he greeted her as he dismounted his horse and walked over to her, luiefe saw that she only looked at him with her eyes and held her head high.

She was an aristocrat, her father owned several plantations and textile weavers, her mother died in childbirth and she was the only child who could dispose of her own money as she wished.

,,God bless you judge and this city" she said something for the first time one morning as she went to the statue of St. Mary and left him behind. Frollo knew breaking etiquette would be an insult to her and her family he had to do it differently he had to woo her.

His angel, his lovely star as he went to the rows of wood himself and said the prayer. But his eyes kept looking at her as she lowered her head, the veil covering her. But he had seen her pale reddish eyes under the embroidered fabric that hung over her face.

He wanted to understand what was "wrong" with her, that this sin was a punishment from God, which is why she always prayed. But what was sin to her was everything to him. He wanted her like the forbidden, desirable fruit of the apple tree.

The minutes passed, the sun rose over the city and the stained glass of the windows shone on her and he fell, looking at her in color instead of white.

He lit a candle, folded his hands, and felt the ring's box in the pocket of his robe before he watched her again as she slowly rose from her kneeling position, wiped the dust from her dress and walked to the exit.

Before the people came, the people of the normal lower population. ,,My lady please wait I have heard of the good news of your lord father's factory" he began and was pleased to see her pause and wait for him.

Her hands folded in front of her dress, she watched him as best he could see under the veil. ,,I had taken the liberty of contacting him...and asked for an invitation to hear your playing your harp," he explained, knowing that she played her harp in her family circles and among her closest confidants.

He couldn't quite tell if it was indignation or exasperation that flashed in her eyes as she stood to resume her posture as an aristocrat.

,,My lord father will make a decision in your favor, I presume. Please, if it is convenient for you Judge Frollo, come to my estate and I will play for you," she replied and was about to turn away from him when he brought a ,,Wait please" after her, she paused turning her head slightly and shaking her shoulders as he handed her the casket.

,,A gift as a token of my gratitude for your generosity," he said, smiling gently as her fingers brushed over her gloves, feeling her warmth for a moment before she tucked the small box into her long sleeves.

,,That...that's very kind of you Lord Frollo, thank you" she said quietly not full of conviction more like she was embarrassed as if this fire in him had caught her for a moment.

,,Please, for such a beautiful flower, it's the least you can do," he said as a matter of course and bowed slightly as she curtseyed and stepped out of the church first, the sun flashing as the wood was opened and disappearing again as it closed.

But Frollo stayed behind, knowing that he was one step closer to her heart, she was open, he had seen it, had felt its lovely warmth and fire. There was only one last thing to do that night and she would be his.

The evening couldn't come soon enough for him. The sun was slowly setting, bathing the city in gold, but he knew that once he visited her and listened to the sound of her harp, it was only a matter of time before he would use the ring he had given her.

Her apartment, though a little smaller than his own, was lined with magnificent stone, wood and statues, the entrance lined with pictures and books, and Frollo knew he would find her in the music room.

Knew as he walked through the front door that he would hear the sound of her unnaturally pale hands wiping the pages. Her singing soft and beguiling he felt his heart beat faster. He wanted her.

He wanted her when he saw that she had taken off her veil, her fingers were not covered by gloves and he saw the silver ring with a moonstone on it. ,,You're more beautiful than any star out there in the sky," he had flattered her for a moment, watching her stop crying as she turned her head away, not yet wanting to believe his words.

,,Please my lord enjoy the play...if my appearance disturbed you the Judge I can cover myself too" she said quietly almost whispering as if she was afraid that someone would hear them both. But he only shook his head in confusion as she stopped playing, rose from her seat and came to him.

,,Your look my pretty pale flower quite the opposite it's a pleasure to see you every day" he said and let his fingers run over her ring on her finger saw how she moved back to avoid the contact almost shco was too close.

But only almost, as it was true in the Bible Eve would give in to temptation and Adam would still love her more than anything. ,,Your body is my personal carnal pleasure...you are the most beautiful thing on this earth my love" he purred and his other hand brushed a white loose strand of hair behind her ear of her elaborate hairstyle.

He saw the shame in her reddish eyes at his words, but it was the shame that made her cheeks slightly flushed. ,,You-You don't know what you're saying, Frollo," she murmured, lowering her gaze to her dress, her fingers nervously playing with one of the bows.

But when he told her to look at him again, overcoming the last few moments between them, he felt it. He finally felt her warmth on his lips as he kissed her softly, holding her body gently with his hands.

Knowing that he had committed a sin for the first time but seeing that beautiful look of love in her face as she did not break away from him, her hands remained around his and something like devotion flashed in her eyes, the judge knew that his pale flower finally belonged to him forever until the last stars in the sky would fade away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ria-coolgirl , @nunezs-stuff , @magmabayvi , @aliensthegreat

[sgiandubh]

T is the weakest link, find out the truth about his “real” life and we will have answers to so many of our questions.

Dear Weakest Link Anon,

I couldn't agree more, based on my own (and other like minded people's) research. We knew Mordor's national sport is Compulsive Lying, but the contrast between cold, hard, real facts and the absurd narrative that is never questioned across the street is still shocking.

I explained many times already the reasons that prevent me from publishing and commenting my findings. I can only encourage you to make a simple research on public business databases. It's all on screen, of course...or, in this case, it's all on those websites. Costs are low.

His real life has nothing glamorous about it.

And yes, I know the main argument peddled by the Idiot Twins all day long, every day God makes: a legal document is FACT, TRUTH and an undisputable sign of marital bliss.

These people mentally live in a grotto (calm down, it's about Plato, here). So, according to them, the following legal document MUST come from a legit democratic country, right?

Right?

This is a quote from Stalin's Constitution, ratified by the Eighth Congress of Soviets of the USSR in December 1936, just after the First Moscow Trial of the Party's dissident groups.

By 1937, the Great Purge was building up momentum. The privacy of millions was violated, while many (so many) were tortured, tried in haste and disposed of. Millions of letters were opened, their content scrutinized. The madness temporarily stopped in earnest only with the outbreak of WWII. 1.2 million people were killed in the process.

At the very same moment, other millions of people firmly, even sincerely, believed it was all for the best, FACT, TRUTH and the only possible way reality should look like.

Like in Stalin's Soviet Union, critical examination and contextualization seem to be forbidden in the Land of the Soviets Best Fans Ever. Any questioning or unorthodox behavior is met with kindness: 'the mental ward' is the last trend. It immediately made me think about the fact that in the same Soviet Union, after the war, dissidents were not labeled as political criminals, but as 'psychiatric ward patients'.

The easiest, cheapest and most effective way of ostracizing. And one of the main reasons C's Oscar promo campaign was a resounding flop.

Meanwhile, tax debts, failed projects and flimsy whereabouts seem to tell the pertinent story for your ask, Anon.

[cat-mentality]

PLS ELABORATE ON THIS [the theory on which eggs fit which sins]

OKAY BUCKLE UP ANON!!!! This is straight up tin foil hat territory, i'm just like manifesting from nothing because it is incredibly fun in my mind

For this to make a little of sense i'm going to consider Purgatory as my catholic school taught me- A place where the sinners go to repent to their sins, either for all of eternity, if the sins are too big or too terrible, or until they have been forgiven and i'm taking Dante's inferno as my guideline on how this whole thing operates.

I'm also going with the theory that Black Cucurucho was the one responsible for taking the eggs/scaring them away, maybe to make them vulnerable and fall on his trap, is my personal theory that the Black Cucurucho is literally the anti-Federation, as in order versus chaos and as such he is looking to destroy everything the Federation is building and using the egg's to do so (and also Cellbit!!! If it's not the Rebels giving him the information i bet on Black Cucurucho more than the Feds themselves).

So, basically: The eggs get kidnapped by this new strange force (not evil per say, not more than the Federation itself, but less interested in pretending not to be, like the Anfitrião in Ordem Paranormal) and they get stuck in Purgatory, who is made by 9th circles, divided by the type of sinners they are set to punish. The tickets are the passage to get into the circles, Virgil acted as Dante's guide in this case the train will be responsible for taking them from one circle (island) to the next IF they manage to complete whatever task will be set in their way.

I believe the placement of each egg (in my delulu head) has less to do with their own sins, as the Black Cucurucho is not really interested in them but rather in the suffering he can inflict on the parents using them, but in the mortal flaw he sees on their parents.

Chayenne i would put being stuck in the 1st circle, Limbo. It's the less worse of the nine as it is the place where the unbaptized and virtuous pagan stay, endlessly walking in eternal darkness.

Why you ask me?

Well Chayenne IS the son of the Angel of Death. His other father is also a being blessed by death (or cursed with life, your pick). He worships the Blood God. He is dear to the Goddess of Death herself.

What's more pagan than that?

Besides Chayenne IS virtuous himself, he is a warrior, devout to the Blood God however not for bloodlust, but for the desire of protecting those he loves and cherishes. Little Chayenne, walking endlessly searching for his siblings, praying to his fathers' goddesses to shine a light, to show him the way, to protect his siblings, but receiving nothing back as the goddesses is forbidden from interfering with the living, even the ones toying the line into her realm.

I actually changed my mind and we are putting Tallulah in the 2nd circle, Luxury. Now, we about to play loose with the definition of luxury here as this is the circle where the damned are tormented with strong winds that drag them through hell, i'm focusing not on Luxury as a carnal sin, but rather the element of desire.

And for this we are going to consider Wilbur as the parent being punished, not Philza.

Wilbur who left for fame.

Wilbur who left for months and months and months. Who lusted for the world, who wanted to be known, who wanted to be adored, who lusted after a life of his dreams.

Wilbur who in his lust for the world forgot the one person who always considered him her whole world.

Tallulah lusting after safety, lusting for a place to belong, lusting to leave a mark in the world so that it doesn't forget her, trying to grab onto anything to prove her worth and her value but now being stuck in those winds. dragged without a destination, powerless and alone.

Pomme is then in the 3rd circle, Gluttony. The 3rd circle is the circle for those who were gluttons, who over indulged, are now stuck in pits of dirty, freezing mud, tormented by Cerberus and also a storm of snow, hail and thunder.

Etoiles, always hungry for the next fight, for the next dungeon, for the next opponent.

Baghera always hungry for answers, for things she cannot have, cannot do (she wants an explanation about what happened to her, she wants to save her friends when she cannot even save herself, she desires for the world to be good and kind).

Antoine, always hungry for power, selling his soul, his family, to achieve it. Devouring faces, devouring stories, devouring lives, swallowing everything whole until he doesn't even know who he was supposed to really be.

Pierre always hungry for connection, for warmth, hungry for those he meets, trying to fill the void in his heart with the temporary warmth of another body.

Pomme hungry for adventures, hungry to prove that she is worth of love (she remembers, those first days, the distrusts, the coldness, the way they considered not taking her and she never wants to feel that cold), Pomme being stuck, helpless when she knows so very well that helplessness gets you killed, that it makes you weak and unworthy.

The 4th circle, Avarice is empty, of the eggs at least. A respite, as much as they can have in that place.

They find Ramon in the 5th circle, Wrath. Localized on the Styx, the river that cuts through the Purgatory, made of boiling water and blood, that is the place where the wrathful are locked on eternal fights on the surface of the river, on the bottom the sullen are forever stuck drowning on the things they never got to say.

Fit who lived his whole life in a desolate wasteland where fighting was the only thing he could do. Fit who knew no rest, no peace, no sound of those fighting and those dying.

Fit who fought his whole life, who is still fighting, who doesn't know how to rest, who doesn't know how to forgive, who chokes on his wrath, who forces it down his throat because he wants to be better but anger was all that he knew during most of his life.

Fit who looks at those people in their eternal battle, bleeding and making others bleed for no reason, with no end in sight, with no real purpose but to cause harm, and feels at home.

Ramon who tries so hard to be light, to support and help his father in whatever he needs, who drowns his own feelings because he doesn't want to bother others, because he wants to be the rock they can lean on, drowning at the bottom of the Styx.

Leonarda is on the 6th circle, Heresy. This is the circle where the sinners had the intention of sinning, the one destined to those who denied the existence of god, who went against the beliefs of their time, and now they lay on open graves as fire burns them.

And what is Foolish if not a non believer?

He believes in no god, no authority, no deity. He believes in himself, he believes in his family, he believes in what he thinks is right.

Oh he plays pretend of course, he smiles at the Federation, he works for them, he joins the Ordo, he participates in their reunions, but do he believe in any of them? Does he commit to one dogma over the other?

Of course not.

Foolish is a non believer. He will join the side that offers him the most, he will betray them as easily as he joined, he will jump from a place to another as long as that keeps his family safe, as long as that is what is better for them.

Foolish who sins and smiles as he does so.

Little Leonarda who believes in her Pa above everything and anything else, burning in a never ending fire. Little Leonarda who doesn't give a fuck about anything else as long as he is okay, as long as he is by her side, who would follow him into whatever mess he got himself into, who couldn't care less about other's morals or expectations, who would gladly sin as long as they are together.

Richarlyson is on the 7th circle, Violence. This circle is actually divided in three parts but i think only two would be used the Valley of the Phlegethon where the ones who were violent against others were submerged on a river of the blood of those they hurt, and the valley of the suicidal, where those who were violent against themselves became either trees, eaten by harpies or chased by hungry dogs.

And well, it's self explanatory isn't it?

Who has spilled more blood than Cellbit? Between the war, the prison and not the Island he has enough blood on his account to drown them all.

Forever? Oh there are bloodbaths in his past too. There is rage that blinds, that takes hold of him and only leaves when he is standing in the aftermath of a carnage.

Mike does not mind blood. Never has, never will.

And who hurts Pac more than he does himself? Who hates Cellbit more than he hates himself? Who blames Forever for things, more than himself?

They may turn their rage against the world, may bath it into blood, may spill it until rivers form but they drown themselves in it too.

And Richarlyson? Little boy who saw too much, who knew death and suffering too early, who lives at war with a part of himself who wants nothing but to hurt and destroy.

Finally, Dapper is on the 8th circle, Fraud. This circle has ten pits in it, each designated to a type of sinner with their own punishment, raking from being whipped by demons to being submerged into boiling tar or being dressed into shiny clothes who were as heavy as lead.

And what is BadboyHalo if not a fraud?

Who even knows who he truly is, what he truly thinks? Probably not even himself.

This is a man of many layers and many masks, a man who presents himself in any way he thinks is right regardless of what he truly feels or thinks, this is a man who will lie to anyone, including himself.

This is a man who embodies every single sin punished, who could easily be put into any of the pits. Is he not a seducer? Is he not a liar and a thief? Corrupted by his own darkness? A hypocrite, to others and to himself? Does he not sow discord, does he not give bad advice?

And isn't Dapper too much like their father? Little Dapper who lies and lies and lies, who hides behind her own masks, who is now being punished because they do not know who they truly are underneath all the masks.

And the 9th circle, the last one?

Betrayal.

Sometimes the only way to leave hell, to leave Purgatory, is to be worse than the devils.

[genshin-impact-writings]

omg I was thinking a LOT about a certain scenario and your event was like a blessing.

I was wondering if you could write Royalty AU with Alhaitam as a royal advisor and reader as the monarch?

You can include but you don't have to: forbidden love + the quote "I love you. You don't have to say it back. I just wanted you to know."

Hope I gave you something fun to work with!

Anon, this was the perfect combination of prompts, thank you so much for sending this in! <3 I really had so much fun working on this one! This is my first time writing for Alhaitham though, so I hope he's not too ooc. Have fun reading and stay safe, dear anon. :)

Prompts: royalty AU + forbidden love + “I love you. You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.” (1k followers event: Alternate Universes)

Only you and you alone – Alhaitham x gn!reader (royalty AU)

“The royal family of Inazuma sends their regards. They greatly appreciate your invitation but have to inform you that they cannot attend the festivities this year.” Alhaitham’s voice is calm as ever but over the years, you have come to know him well enough to notice that he’s not happy about their rejection. He has worked hard to finally put an end to the ongoing dispute between Inazuma and Sumeru that started long before you inherited the throne from your parents – and he’s rightfully upset about them still holding onto their grudge. 

“That’s unfortunate,” you say. Though there’s only the two of you in the conference room, you’re carefully choosing your words. As the ruler of this kingdom, you cannot afford letting your emotions get the better of you, as it would be highly inappropriate to lose your temper. “I was hoping they’d recognize the opportunity to conclude peace between our kingdoms.”

“They should be honored that you even considered inviting them to the Sabzeruz Festival.”

You sigh. There’s no point in denying that your trusted advisor has a point there. The Sabzeruz Festival is one of Sumeru’s most important celebrations, commemorating the birth of Lesser Lord Kusanali, your nation’s beloved goddess. Getting the opportunity to partake in this celebration is an honor, indeed. Unfortunately, the Inazumans seem to think otherwise. Or perhaps they’re just trying to get under your skin by declining your invitation.

“It is what it is and we have to accept their decision,” you eventually reply and pinch the bridge of your nose. It’s been a long day, filled with conversations and meetings and tiring smalltalk, and you’re exhausted. A part of you wants to excuse yourself to lie down and get some rest. But these meetings with Alhaitham are important, not only because he’s your advisor but also because you genuinely enjoy being around him. You’re both always so busy that these meetings are almost the only opportunity to spend time with each other. And you know that it’s probably selfish and highly inappropriate – but you still find yourself craving his company when he’s not around. He’s your safe haven, your lighthouse in the stormy sea of politics. Without him, you’d be lost.

“Is everything alright?” Alhaitham’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, tone a lot softer than usual. It almost sounds as if he’s worried about you. “We can adjourn this conversation to another day if you wish” he adds when you don’t reply, “there’s not much we can do about these political issues anyways. Not now, at least.”

You’re not ready to say Goodbye to him yet, so you politely decline and reassure him that you’re fine, ignoring the quiet voice in the back of your head that’s telling you to get some rest. 

Alhaitham tucks two fingers beneath your chin and gently turns your head, so that he can examine your face. “You look tired,” he says but you’re too distracted by the warmth of his touch and the unusually gentle expression in his eyes to reply anything. It’s good that it’s so late – if someone came in now and saw the two of you like this… you don’t even have the guts to even imagine the outrage that would follow. Because even though Alhaitham’s a member of the royal court, he’s still not of noble blood – and you know that there are people out there who’d jump at any chance to get rid of him and take his position as your advisor. 

You have to protect him from them. 

You give yourself exactly five more seconds before you pull away from his touch and straighten your back. “I’m alright,” you assure him. “Please don’t worry about me.”

“I’m your advisor, it is my job to worry about you.”

“That’s not entirely correct. Your job is to worry about politics and these stubborn Inazumans and help me figure out what to do with them.”

Alhaitham chuckles. “Well, my advice won’t be any useful if you pass out from exhaustion, no?”

You join in his laughter. Others surely would claim he’s overstepping his authority by saying things like this but to you, it’s comforting to know that he’s looking after you. “Alright, you might have a point there.”

“I know.” His gaze softens. “Leave it to me to figure out a way to solve the dispute between Sumeru and Inazuma and get some rest. You deserve it.”

You’re tempted to ask him to escort you to your room, just to get a few more minutes with him. Instead, you push your chair back and give him a brief nod. “Thank you. Good night, Alhaitham.”

He watches as you make your way to the door. Only when it has closed behind you does he reply, “Good night… (Y/N).”

* * * *

It’s the first day of the Sabzeruz Festival, and you swear, your kingdom has never looked more beautiful. The streets are decorated with beautiful flower arrangements and lights, and the streets are filled with people, conversations and laughter. The smell of delicious food lingers in the air, tempting and full of promises. Everyone looks like they’re enjoying yourself, and that alone is enough to make you happy. You have always cared about your people, sometimes even a little too much, but to you, that is what makes a good monarch. These people are the backbone of your kingdom, and it is your sacred duty to take care of them.

The other thing that puts you into such a good mood is the fact that Alhaitham is by your side as you roam the streets of the capital. He has linked his arm with yours to make sure you don’t get lost in the crowd, and you have a hard time stopping yourself from smiling like an idiot.

You’re aware that you don’t exactly need the royal advisor to accompany you to a festival but he’s much better company than some of the other members of the court. And he gets bonus points for not forcing a conversation on you when you just want to take all the different impressions in. (He also gets bonus points for being so damn handsome but you’d rather bite your tongue off than admit that.)

“It’s such a shame that Inazuma decided to miss out on this,” you say when you pass a booth that sells different kinds of sculptures and works of art. On first glance, you can spot colorfully painted candle holders and plates as well as portraits carved out of wood, showing Lesser Lord Kusanali and various creatures from your kingdom’s folklore. There’s also a portrait of yourself and one of your parents, the late royal couple. 

The shop owner bows when he notices you examining his goods, and you smile at him and tell him that his works are stunning before you continue your way to the Grand Bazaar, the beating heart of the capital. It’s a beautiful place, lively and artistic, and by far your favorite spot during the Sabzeruz Festival. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Alhaitham asks. You beam at him. “Very much.”

He nods, not quite able to hide the smile that plays around the corners of his mouth. But then again, there’s probably no point in denying that it makes him happy to see you like this. You act like someone has taken a massive weight off your shoulders. It’s good that you finally get some time away from politics and responsibilities, not only because he knows how much you worry about the conflict with Inazuma, but also because he just adores this carefree and upbeat side of you. You’re like a comforting ray of sunshine in an otherwise clouded sky. 

Alhaitham is not an idiot – he’s well aware that he’s head over heels in love with you. Others might be convinced that he’s not capable of genuine love, but they don’t know him. They don’t know that he has learned to carefully lock up his true feelings during the years he spent at court where every single word, every single emotion can be used against him. If someone knew how much you truly mean to him, he could lose everything.

And yet, just for a couple of seconds, he allows himself to admire you, to indulge in the breathtaking beauty of your smile and the way you’re still holding onto his arm, although the Grand Bazaar is much less crowded than the streets and you could let go if you wanted to. But you’re not letting go, and that alone is enough to make him wish that this moment could last forever.

But of course, it doesn’t. 

* * * *

“Please excuse my really poor choice of words but I have never heard so much bullshit in my entire life,” you say as soon as the door has shut behind you. Only Lesser Lord Kusanali knows how you have managed to keep calm in this farce of a meeting with the envoys Inazuma has sent to your kingdom a couple of days ago. 

Next to you, Alhaitham chuckles. “I honestly was thinking the same thing.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. Queen Ei might be stubborn and abides by her beliefs and her beliefs only but this isn’t like her. I wonder if there’s something about this dispute my parents haven’t told me.”

“Maybe. Do you want me to conduct investigations? I could get the Matras involved, too.”

You stop him with a wave of your hand. “Later, perhaps. Right now, we should focus on clearing our heads and take a break from politics. Care to join me for a walk through the gardens?”

“My pleasure, Your Highness.”

At this time of the day, the gardens are mostly empty, and so there’s no one to stop you from brushing your hand against Alhaitham’s as you wander around, passing beautifully arranged flower beds that are filled with Padisarahs and Sumeru roses. Neither of you speaks a word, you just enjoy each other’s company and the warmth of the setting sun on your skin. Your hands are touching again, and before you even know what is happening, Alhaitham has intertwined his fingers with yours. He’s still looking straight ahead, acting as if nothing happened, but you stop in your tracks and stare down at your hands. (You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming. Perhaps you fell asleep in that dreadful meeting?) 

“Is this not what you wanted?” Alhaitham asks, and albeit his voice being smooth like butter, the insecurity in his words is obvious – at least to you. “I’m just… surprised,” you say. I never assumed you liked me too, you want to add but you don’t. There’s always the possibility that you’re just imagining things. That, and you have sworn to protect him from those who are after his position. 

“I know this is not exactly appropriate,” Alhaitham says, letting go of your hand, “and I apologize if I misinterpreted anything. I just-“

“No,” you interrupt him, although you know you probably shouldn’t tell him the truth for the sake of protecting him. But you don’t want to lie to him. Not anymore. “I want this,” you add and reach out for his hand again, “I’m well aware that we could get into serious trouble for this but… all I can think about is how much I want to be with you.” 

You pause and take a deep breath. “Alhaitham, what I’m trying to say is: I love you. I have loved you for so long now, andI know I shouldn’t tell you but…” When he doesn’t reply, you begin to panic. “You – you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

“Oh darling. Why on earth wouldn’t I say it back?” The tender, loving tone of his voice is enough to make your knees wobbly, and you fear you’re going to melt on the spot when he steps closer to you and leans in, so that your lips are almost touching. His next words are meant for your ears and your ears only. “I always thought it wasn’t in the cards for me to fall in love with someone. Yet, here I am, so deeply and genuinely in love with you that I can barely put it into words.”

“Show me, then,” you whisper. 

It’s like he has only waited for your permission because in the blink of an eye, his lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you. He takes his sweet time, moving his free hand to the nape of your neck to pull you closer while you wrap an arm around his shoulders. It’s everything you ever wanted. And in that moment, you’re convinced that something that feels so good cannot possibly be wrong.

When Alhaitham pulls away, he gently rests his forehead against yours. “I would break all rules to be with you,” he says. You let out a shaky laugh. “I’d prefer if you didn’t. There must be another way for us to be together. Perhaps we can-“

Alhaitham silences you with another kiss. “Shh. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

You smile. “Okay.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider reblogging, liking and/or leaving some feedback. I'd really appreciate the support!

Taglist: @kaeyas-beloved @caesars-bubbles @the-gayest-sky-kid @ajaxstar

[aoteyam]

Avatar | ATWOW: FIC RECOMMENDATIONS

This is for anyone else who is searching for certain avatar (wotw) fics; I’ve got you.

Important note: many of these fics are nsfw so please check for “MINORS DNI” notes or warnings ⚠️ and don’t forget to follow and support these writers ✨

I was suppose to post this a month ago but school kept me hella busy and I didn’t have the energy to post anything but here it is now😃 I also imma start binging this as well!! Enjoy!

Main library; ext blog (soon to be posted)

First: JAKE SULLY Fanfics | Catergory:

• A •

Avatar the way of water | Jake sully x fem!reader @avatarl0v3r

Avatar @/avatarl0v3r

A new star @anangelwhodidntfall

• B •

Becoming Jake Sully’s mate @ronwestbreeze

Born to die @xoxomelanie

Boundaries @cyberfreaky

• C •

Cute things Jake does with you @tojigasm (p.s Everyone thank this author for feeding us with Jake fics 🤍✊🏻)

• D •

Dacryphilia Jake @truetogaia

Daddy’s girl: Dad!Jake @/anangelwnodidntfall

Did you forget something? @avatarbyamara

Different worlds @/teytiri reposted by another blog*

Discipline series @coffeeandbookskeepmealive

• E •

electric @weasleytwinwheezes

Exchanging cultures @/truetogaia

• F •

Far from home @rayassecretlife

First time with dilf Jake @/truetogaia

First time @persefolli

Flaws n all @/persefolli

Forbidden secrets @/ rayassecretlife

Forgive me @tiredmamaissy

• G •

Good enough @/anangelwnodidntfall

• H •

Hold me, please @/truetogaia

• I •

Insecurities @/cyberfreaky

Interstellar activities @/truetogaia

I don’t recognise you anymore @/persefolli

I’ll do better (dad!jake x daughter!reader) @/anangelwnodidntfall

I mean it @/avatarbyamara

I see you @heirtothekingdom

• J •

Jake + Bimbo!reader

Jake + crybaby!reader @'tojigasm

Jake + fluffy sleep @/tojigasm

Jake + fluffy smut @/tojigasm

Jake + giggling during sex @/tojigasm

jake + hair pulling @/tojigasm

Jake + mutual masturbation @/tojigasm

jake + overwhelmed @/tojigasm

Jake being needy @/truetogaia

Jake being too rough with reader @/tojigasm

Jake nsfw visuals @/tojigasm

Jake pussy eating drabble @/tojigasm

jake smut drabble @/tojigasm

Jake sully and physical touch @/ronwestbreeze

Jake sully fingering pregnant reader @/tojigasm

Jake sully headcannons @/truetogaia

Jake talks @/justasimps-blog

• K •

kin @suuuupernovaaa

Kiss it when he eat it @/tojigasm

• L •

Little secret @/Tiredmamaissy

lightweight @/teytiri

• M •

My dear mates @/ronwestbreeze

• N •

need you @/persefolli

nga yawne lu oer @/suuuupernovaaa

Nightmare:Jake sully @/anangelwnodidntfall

nisngum @/suuuupernovaaa

O

• P •

Picasso (dad!jake x daughter!reader) @/anangelwnodidntfall

Polar opposites @justasimps-blog

Q

• R •

Raw doggin @/truetogaia

Reflection @/cyberfreaky

• S •

Says beauty herself @/avatarbyamara

Scandal @/persefolli

Shallow end list @/ronwestbreeze

Smitten @/anangelwnodidntfall

Sneaking around with daddy @/persefolli

Songbird (dad!jake x daughter!reader) @/anangelwnodidntfall

Stressed Jake x reader @/truetogaia

Stress relief @/justasimps-blog

• T •

To you worlds away @/ronwestbreeze

The scientist @/avatarl0v3r

Thick skull @/ronwestbreeze

Thigh-riding @/cyberfreaky

Those chatoyant eyes @/truetogaia

Thought I lost you @/anangelwnodidntfall

Tits or ass? @/justasimps-blog

Trust your people @sunsents

• U •

Unsteady: (dad!jake x daughter!reader) @/anangelwnodidntfall

V

• W •

Weak saga: Runner up @/persefolli

We’re a team @/avatarbyamara

When he hisses at human fem reader @daydreamerbunny

Who am i to love you @/tojigasm

Worth it @/avatarbyamara

X

• Y •

You fuckin brat @ring-anon-official

Z

[elegantwoes]

alicole is so hot

That they are, dear anon. Not just because they are being acted by two very good looking people (Olivia and Fabiel are very very good looking), but also in dynamic. I am sucker for a good lady/knight dynamic. Combine that with some forbidden romance and I am sold.