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catsteeth · 2 months

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Turn Your Cloak

Benjicot Blackwood x reader

+:✿ One Shot ✿:+

Summary: You’re a Velaryon/Strong princess, daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. You have unhappily left Dragonstone to travel the RiverLands on a marital tour. A marriage to untie the RiverLands with your mothers claim. CW: MDNI, afab reader, violence, misogyny, SMUT, drunk sexual relations, fingering, biting, cum play (sorta kinda), alcohol consumption, mention of arranged marriage, proposal. A/N: your honor, I do not care if he aint bloody ben… he got me during my ovulation cycle so he’s getting a smutty one shot.

Word Count: 6K

You swore, pleaded, and begged your mother not to send you on a marital tour. You wanted to fight for your mothers claim, for revenge, with your dragon Silverwing. A giant beast whose loyalty to you was greater than any other.

You did not wish to be paraded around the realm as if you were a ladder for a house to climb towards the crown. But you knew it was inevitable.

Your mother had no desire to betroth you to the only eligible Targaryen. Nor did Alicent have any desire to wed her trueborn son to the bastard daughter of Dragonstone. And now it was impossible, blood was shed and war was afoot.

In the gantry of Dragonstone, Silverwing stood beside you as you begrudgingly shoved your hands into the leather of your riding gloves. Her feeling your unhappiness nudged you with her snout as she often did. It used to push you to the ground but now you were used to it. You ran your hand up her snout, smiling softly as her nostrils flared and her eyes blinked slowly at you.

Though your smile faded once you saw your mother entering the mounting dock. As she smiled somberly upon you, you looked away from her defiantly. “Must I go?” You asked, your gentle tone thinly veiled your anger.

She stepped closer to you, “I was once in your position myself. The idea of marriage itself once greatly disagreed with me.” She said with a tilt of her head, attempting to console you one last time.

You turned to her, “Then why send me off?” you said in a huff.

With a huff in return your mother began her lecture, “The Riverlands would be an invaluable asset in this war. Deamon has already complicated our position there enough.” Her passion rose in her voice, and her eyes narrowed, “A marriage to a respected house would strengthen our support. But I do not wish to pick a suitor for you, a luxury that I was not granted.” She sighed, letting go of her anger. Understanding your position. “Marriage is partnership. Find someone who you can lean on, someone who has the humility to lean on you. As I did with your father.” She said softly.

You sighed, stepping closer to her. “No one will want me. It will be a great jest to them.” You whispered to her.

Your mother looked upon you with confusion, “Why would you-”

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke, muña. Nyke gīmigon iksan kostōba. Āzma hen Perzys Ānogār. Eman jorrāelagon syt ziry, yn issa gīda naejot mirre iksan daor āzma hen lopor se embar.” “Look at me, Mother. I know I am strong. Born of fire and blood, yes. And despite my love for it, it is clear to all I am not born of salt and sea.” You spoke in High Valyrian in an attempt to hide your words from outsiders.

Your mother looked around paranoid that there might be ears around. She turned to you, holding your cheek in your hand, “Emā se ānogar hen uēpa Valyria isse aōha ānogar. Iksā iā zaldrīzes kipagīros. Dārilaros hen sīkuda Dārȳti. Dārilaros naejot Driftmārki. Iksā iā Targārien. Konīr iksis daor iā lentor bona ivestragon daor.” “You have the blood of old Valyria in your veins. You are a dragon rider. Princess of the seven kingdoms. Heir to Driftmark. You are a Targaryen. There is not a house that could refuse you.” She said with hard eyes and a strong conviction in her voice. Attempting to convince you of your own importance desperately.

You sighed, looking down. “Lī vali jaelagon nyke syt ñuha ānogar se daorun tolī. Jaelan naejot jorrāelagon se sagon jorrāelatan.” “Those men want me for my blood and nothing more. I want to love and be loved.” You said, the sadness in you grew, and Silverwing let out a small whine as she felt it too.

Your mother looked upon you sweetly, seeing so much of herself in you. She ran her hand along the length of your hair, “Nyke nykēla iksin daor biare naejot sagon wed naejot aōha kepa. Yn isse jēda kesā ūndegon, hēnka. Hae nyke se aōha kepa gōntan. Se riñar kessa sagon aōha rovaja biarves. Kesā dohaeragon aōha gaomilaksir lēda rōvēgrie rigle. Mazverdagon bisa ojūdan syt aōha ānogar.” “I myself was not happy to be wed to your father. But in time you will find commonality. As I and your father did. And children will be your greatest happiness. You will serve your duty with great honor. Make this sacrifice for your house.” Her last words were the words of a ruler, not a mother. But you understood her position well enough.

You look towards Silverwing, who’s loving eyes look upon you.

You thought for a moment, even if you married a man you would never be able to take you away from your dragon. And with your dragon, you’d always be free.

You let out one last defiant huff, “What if they are all old and terrible?” You asked like a child.

Your mother sharply exhaled through her nose as she smirked at your attitude. “Fly safely, sweet girl.” She said as she kissed your brow before leaving you to fly.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As you flew over the Riverlands, you approached the large plot of land that the good Lords of Riverland picked for you to receive suitors. You could see the crowds of men like ants below you.

Part of you wanted to command Silverwing to burn them all, the other half of you wanted to keep flying and not look back. However neither part could hold sway in this. If you wanted revenge for Luke, or Rhaenys, you would need to play your role no matter how unpleasant it may be.

As you landed, the men attempted to remain calm and composed. However as Silverwing’s weight shook the ground, and her roar crackled through the air, the men took cautious steps backwards and tried to hold their gasps to themselves. You smirked to yourself as you dismounted.

“You are late, Princess.” Ser Lorent, a member of your mothers Queens Guard said to you.

You bit down on the finger of your leather gloves as you pulled them off, “Well then we’d ought to proceed in haste.” You said with a mischievous smile.

“Introducing, Princess (Y/N). Trueborn daughter of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lord Leanor Velaryon. Heir to Driftmark, the future Lady of the tides and master of ships.” Ser Lorent announced as you sat at the makeshift throne they’d created for you.

And so the vieding began. One Lord after another, giving you the same speech of how honorable their house is, and how loyal they have always been to your mothers inheritance. Soon your patience was running thinner, and thinner.

It was only when an elderly man approached, and began speaking to his worth for your hand. You scoffed to yourself as he did so shamelessly, “My Princess, If chosen I will ensure your safety-”

You interrupted him, “Tell me Lord Chambers, how do you plan on protecting me when you are older than my own Grandsire?” The old man stared at you, his mouth agape as the other men began to snicker, “It is a reasonable question.” You finished.

“My Princess,” Ser Lorent said under his breathe in annoyance,

“I mislike old men who think themselves worthy of any woman.” You said to him quietly.

He sighed “Next,” Ser Lorent called out in a huff.

As you saw the next plain faced boy walking towards the front of the line you turned back to the knight beside you, “Ser Lorent, I am quite tired and quite famished. As is Silverwing.” you said in a desperate attempt to finish this marital tour early.

As you stood from your seat, Silverwing cried out and the thunder in the sky rang. Clouds gathered over the Riverlands, and the winds began to shift. However you were undeterred, paying no mind to it, you continued to walk towards Silverwing who was already laying close to the ground for you to mount her.

Ser Lorent however came towards you, grabbing your arm gently. “A storm approaches,” Ser Lorent warned you.

You looked upon the sky, ready to crack at any moment. But then shaking your head and then resuming your strides towards your beast. “Silverwing has seen worse.”

“I do not think that is wise, my Princess. Silverwing has seen worse in flight but you have not. You lack the experience.” He called out over the sky’s loud rumbles.

He spoke truly, and it frustrated you. You spun around looking towards him, “Well what would you have me do?”

Ser Lorent looked behind him, raising his hand presenting the men that stood there, “We've the Lords of this Land here, they’d be more than honored to offer bread and milk to a Princess.”

You were not at all thrilled by the idea of it. Though as the sky began to crack, and the water fell from the heavens above you, you’d no choice. “What of Silverwing?”

Ser Lorent was much more concerned with your own well being than that of a dragon, one that could manage fine on its own. “Leave the beast for the night-”

You shook your head, and retorted quickly, “I will not leave Silverwing. She’s mine.” You said with strong conviction.

He huffed, growing more frustrated by your stubbornness. “My Princess, the only place with large enough land to accommodate such a beast would be the Raventree Hall.”

“Who occupies it?” You nearly shouted over the growing rain,

“The Blackwoods, my Princess.” Ser Lorent shouted back, loud enough for the Blackwoods to hear it.

Lord Blackwood almost appeared out of thin air as he approached you with his seven sons. The sight made you exhausted at the idea of being under a roof with them, “We’d be most grateful if you and your dragon accept our guest right, my Princess.” You thought of it for a moment, but with no choice you nodded hesitantly, The Lord looked giddy like a child as he turned to his nephew behind him, “Benjicot give the Princess your cloak for Gods sake.”

The lad came to you, holding a black and red cloak. He did not look you in the eye but stared at the ground as he approached you. Once he stood face to face with you, he looked down into your eyes. You felt a shiver down your spine, surely it was due to the frightful weather. He gently placed the cloak upon your shoulders before giving you a slight respectful nod, “My Princess.”

You looked at him with curious eyes, “I thank you.” You said to him, earnestly.

“Fly your beast to the fields of RavenTree, our men will take care of you.” Lord Blackwood shouted.

You nodded, then mounted Silverwing, “Rȳbās, dokimarvose, Silverwing! sagon gīda, rȳbagon, dohaerās, sōvēs!” “Focus, pay attention, Silverwing! Be calm, listen, obey, fly!” You shouted over the thundering rains now roaring through the skies, commanding your beast. To which she as always eagerly obeyed.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

In Raventree you sat at the head of a large dinner table with the rest of the Blackwoods. You awkwardly picked at the food that was being served to you on the finest plates they owned. All the while Lord Blackwood went on and on about their houses' histories. All that you could stand but your patience was tested when the Lord Black wood began to say… “It would of course be a great honor, the highest honor, for the Princess to consider one of our sons-”

Benjicot placed his fork down loudly, as he kept his head low looking over to his uncle, “Uncle, I am sure the Princess would rather eat.” It was as if he could tell the question offended you.

You looked at the dark haired man sitting beside you. His eyes met yours for only a moment before he looked away. You wanted to thank him, but could tell his comment only upset his uncle.

Your eyes stayed on Ben as you said, “I thank you-” Before turning your head to his uncle, “for your hospitality. And I thank you for your… proposals.” You said politely, attempting to hide your discomfort.

Lord Blackwells attention then again turning back to you smiled as he leaned forward at the other end of the table, "I once vied for your mother, the Queen Rhaenyra's hand, before she wed Ser Laenor. I always liked her spirit. She had the true blood of the dragon. Just as I see it in you.” He said with a smile, you suspected it was to be a compliment but it only made you feel dirty.

“Uncle.” Benjicot said under his breath, glaring at his uncle. You could feel the hostility emanating off of him.

His uncle glared back at him, and rather than allow an altercation to take place you interjected.

“Your house honors me, my Lord. I thank you, and the crown shall not forget your service. However, it has been a long day, and I spent many hours on dragon back. I should bid you all a pleasant night.”

The Lord bowed his head, “Of course, my Princess.” He turned to a handmaiden who stood behind him holding a large bottle of their wine. “Jeyne, take the Princess (Y/N) to her chambers.”��

As you followed the handmaiden to your chambers, your loyal knight Ser Lorent followed closely behind you. “Who are you considering, my Princess?” He asked closely to your ear.

You breathed a sigh of relief allowing your snarky personality to resurface, “I am considering many things. None of them are any of those men we saw today.”

You reminded Ser Lorent of the most annoying parts of your mother when she was young. He huffed, “If you do not select a suitor, my Princess… The Riverlands-”

“Would now surely turn their cloaks, I know it.” As you reached your chambers, you turned to him, “Allow me to sleep. I’ll have an answer on the Marrow.” You conceded.

He nodded somberly, “Goodnight, my Princess.” He said before leaving.

You did not sleep however. Your mind was restless. Of all the men you saw today, none offered you anything. None of them seemed to have any humility. Nor did any excite you. You stared out the window of your chambers, watching Silverwing lay in the fields of Raventree. She sighed restlessly, just as you did. You hated leaving her in such weather, but as the rains let up, you grabbed the cloak the blackwood nephew offered you.

And so you snuck out of your chambers, so kindly given to you by the Blackwoods. With the intention of riding Silverwing back home and begging your mothers forgiveness and pray she doesn’t decide on a match for you.

However as you tread through the wet grass and mud towards your gorgeous beast. You unexpectedly were confronted with a rowdy group of Blackwood boys drinking from two large jugs of ale. You stopped in your tracks and stared at them with wide eyes, to which they returned the same look of shock when they saw you. Their loud speaking, laughing, and singing came to a stop once they saw you.

“My Lady!” One of the boys said as he hid the jug of ale behind his back.

The one beside him smacked the back of his head, “She’s not a lady, she’s a princess!” The other loudly corrected.

You raised your hands up, “Sh!” You commanded, not wanting Ser Lorent to hear.

The eldest looking one began to stammer, “Princess, I- I apologize we thought you were abed.”

You waved your hand in dismissal, “It’s quite alright.” You wrapped yourself in the cloak for warmth, “It’s your home.” The boys looked at you with confusion. They did not want to question a princess but they really had no idea what you were doing out in the fields after such a storm. “I could not find sleep. So I took to a walk.” It technically was not a lie.

The boys looked at you in silence, unsure of what to say or do. Until the younger boy revealing his jug of ale from behind his back, “We’ve ale-”

The boy offered you, but soon a familiar voice rang out within the group of lads. “A Princess does not drink our shit ale.” Benjicot said as he stepped forward.

You however did not need your honor defended against a drink. A drink you so badly needed, “I’ll drink it.” You said stepping forward and grabbing the jug and taking a swig.

And soon enough you were as tipsy as the rest of the lads, and walking along the fields of the Blackwood land. You found yourself actually enjoying yourself. The boys were kind, and amused you. In fact you couldn’t think of the last time you’d laughed.

The boys gasped as they saw your large beast fly across the sky. Her form covers the light of the moon for a moment.

You smiled as you looked upon her, “Silverwing. She bonded with me when I was a girl the age of ten and two.”

“Can we ride on it?” The younger blackwood boy asked innocently.

“Don’t be daft, the beast would eat you alive!” The eldest boy said, scolding his younger brother.

Amused you smiled as you pasted the jug of ale back. This time Benjicot took it from you. His hand gently brushed against your own. When his warm skin touched your own, you felt a chill. As if you’d never been touched before. You looked into his eyes. He didn’t seem so hard, his gaze was warm. You didn’t want to look away, and you didn’t want to move your hand. And from his stare you could tell neither did he. Until his gaze was ripped from you as six other men approached from down a tall hill.

Ben took the jug of ale from your hands, “Bracken cunts.” he grumbled as he stepped in front of you, “Take the Princess back to Raventree Hall.” He ordered as he glared at the men approaching you. Though none dared to touch you.

“Fitting!” One of the men in yellow said, “A bastard belongs with a Blackwood.“ They laughed.

“What did you say?” Ben hissed, attempting to step towards them but one of the other blackwood boys held him back.

The man in yellow pointed at you, “The bastard’s dragon ate five Bracken cows.” He shouted.

Before Ben pushed his cousin off of him but before he could do or say anything else, you spoke up, “I would see to it that your house was given their worth doubled for your trouble. But your words are treasonous and above all a great insult to my mother the Queen.” You spoke calmly but your tone was dark and deep.

The Bracken stifled a laugh, stepping closer to you, “Your false Queen mother is a whore. What Velaryon has hair like that?”

Benjicot stepped closer to the Bracken, blocking his path to you, “You wouldn’t dare.” He said, holding onto the hilt of his dagger. Ready to take the Brackens tongue for his words.

As your heartbeat rose, a large thud shook the ground beneath your feet. Silence that followed rang loudly. But not as loudly as the rumble of a heavy growl Silverwing made as the large ghastly beast began crawling down the tall hill. She began to open her mouth, with the heat and light of fire emanating from it.

“Daor! Likiri, gaomagon daor nābēmagon, Silverwing!” “Be Calm, do not attack, Silverwing!” You commanded, and she obeyed. She let out a sigh, and a whine, eager to protect her rider.

“Jikagon, kisalbar va tolī nuspes.” “Go, feast on more cows.” Your command pleased her well enough as she took to the sky once more. The flap of her wings and a large gust of wind pushed some of the Brackens into the mud.

Your eyes went back down to the Brackens, “I just saved your very life. You might wish to thank me, by leaving my presence.” The men scattered, running back over the hill.

Benjicot turned back to you, “I’ll see you to your chamber.” He said with a huff as he walked past you.

As you followed the lads back, they were silent, aside from the youngest Blackwood making a few comments of how exciting it was to see a dragon up close. To which his older brother smacked the back of their head.

Once Benjicot and you reached the door to your chamber, he stood there for a moment, trying his hardest not to look at you. As if he were restraining himself from something.

“I enjoyed myself tonight. You have a charming family.” You said attempting to ease the awkward silence.

His eyes finally found yours, unable to resist your gaze any longer. As you looked up at him, his dark hair messied from the night wind. His nose was slightly crooked no doubt from another fight. Something he seemed to enjoy. You found his temper to light a heat within your body. As did his gaze. It was lustful and warm.

Your eyes fixated on his lips, he’d a small scar from his top lip to his nose. Perhaps it was from when he was a babe, or again, another fight. You didn’t know but wanted to, it was strange you had no interest in any man other than ogling at the nice looking ones from time to time. But you never had any interest in them as persons.

As your eyes still lingered on his lips. You looked back into his eyes, to see he himself was fixated on your own lips. He began to lean in closer to you, and you began to lean in closer to him.

But he regained his control over himself, he bit his lower lip in restraint. Shutting his eyes, and swifting walking away. Leaving you in the hall.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You did not return to your room. No.

You went back to the fields. You felt as though you were proven right. No man would want you. You were a bastard and the subject of many jokes amongst the highborns. Why would he want you?

Your emotion took hold of you, regrettably. It was apparent as Silverwing began to crawl towards you, whining as she felt your pain. You loved your bond but hated that it would impact her in such a way.

So you embraced her, running your hand against her scales as you sang softly to her. “Drakari pykiros, Tīkummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa, Saelot vāedis. Hen ñuhā elēnī: Perzyssy vestretis, Se gēlȳn irūdaks, Ānogrose, Perzyro udrȳssi, Ezīmptos laehossi, Hārossa, letagon, Aōt vāedan, Hae mērot gierūli: Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī.” “Fire breather, Winged leader, But two heads, To a third sing. From my voice: The fires have spoken, And the price has been paid, With blood magic, With words of flame, With clear eyes, To bind the three, To you I sing, As one we gather, And with three heads, We shall fly as we were destined Beautifully, freely.” She purred and chirped at your song, calming her just as you knew it would.

You smiled as she calmed, and in turn you felt peace as well. Until-

A familiar voice beckoned out “Your song is quite nice, your voice is beautiful.” You turned around to see Ben. You felt some anger towards him. But refused to allow him to think that you would care.

You nodded, “Thank you.”

“What does it mean?” He asked gently, much more gently than he spoke to any other person that day.

You looked at him with curiosity, “It’s a song we sing to claim them. Though I find it calms her.” You looked away from him coldy, and returned to pet her.

He swallowed hard, unsure of how to approach you, “I apologize for being… cold earlier. It was beneath me and you’d not deserve such treatment.” He said cautiously, you could tell he wished to say more but did not. He stepped towards you, “What are you doing here?”

You looked at him once more, your spirits softening for some reason. Strange as apologies never seemed to work on you. You sighed, “Debating whether I should flee to Pentos now that the skies are clear, or marry the oldest man who vied today.”

“You said he was older than your grandsire.” He said, holding in a laugh at the memory of your insult.

You smirked at him, “Well hopefully they’d not live long enough to consummate the marriage.”

He bit his tongue as he smirked back at you, “You don’t talk like a Princess.” He shook his head.

You turned to face him as you stepped away from Silverwing, “Oh! You’ve met many?” You teased as you walked closer to him, “What are you doing here?”

His smile faded, and his eyes hardened, “Those cravens cannot speak to a princess-to you as he did. They were undeserving of your mercy.” He said angrily.

You smirked and walked closer towards him, “Rivermen are made of mud, stubborn.”

Davos sat down on the ground in a huff, “I should beat that Bracken cunt into the mud.” he said as he bit on his knuckles, still fuming.

You however still found it not only amusing but excites your body, “I dare you.” you said with a mischievous grin, holding back a giggle.

Davos looked at you with wild eyes, blood lust perhaps. It made a shiver run down your spine as he stood and began to march back to the fields. As he was gritting through his teeth, and storming up to the Brackens still on the field. You followed him giddy, practically skipping behind him.

As he marched over the tall hill, he could see the Bracken that had levied insult to your parentage earlier that night. He was stacking wood, and unluckily for him, alone.

“Oi!” Davos yelled as he and you approached the Bracken.

The fight was hardly fair. Not that Ben was larger or even stronger than the Bracken. But the way he fought was brutal and savage. The Bracken could not keep up with him. In the end the Bracken was a bloody, whimpering mess. And Ben was bloody, and dirtied from the mud.

As he got off the Bracken, he was panting from exhaustion, but once his eyes fell back onto you, his gaze softened.

It grew a heat in your body. As well as a guilt. You walked up to him in hast, your eyes clouded by lust. You grabbed his face into your hands and kissed him deeply. His hand found your jaw, attempting to pull you deeper into the kiss as if it were possible.

Afterwards, you and Ben practically dragged one another back to Raventree and more specifically back to your chambers.

You began to disrobe. Beginning with the cloak he’d given you earlier that day. “I think I might be a poor influence on you, My Lord.” You said as you threw the cloak onto the bed.

“Or I you.” He said as his eyes roamed your form lustfully.

You kicked your muddied shoes off, “Mayhaps both.” You began to untie the laces of your gown, “Still… Tonight was anything but dull.” You were left in your shift and small clothes. “Even when you are drunk, you fight very well.” You said as you crawled onto your bed.

Ben walked up to the end of your bed, looking down upon you with undignified thoughts, “Ah, well, those bracken swines couldn’t fight a babe.” He rasped, “I shouldn’t be swearing in front of a Lady, a princess no less.” He said as he cupped your cheek as you kneeled on the bed in front of him.

“I like it.” You said as you took his hand, looking at his bloodied knuckles, “Besides, I am hardly a lady.”

He shook his head with a soft smile, “No, you could be my Lady.” You looked up at him, somehow surprised by his words, “Your days would be easy and nights safe, not that you’d need it.” He rubbed your knuckles with his thumb.

Humility, was that what your mother spoke of? A man who could tell when his lady held her own?

“You did not vie for my hand today in the woods. But you do now, here in my chamber.” It was partially a jest, and partially not. You did not wish to be bedded and discarded. You did not want another jest to be made of you.

His eyes darkened again, “It is an insult to you. To have each man from their houses come to bid on your hand. As if you’re a mare to breed.” He shook his head in disgust.

You smiled softly at him, “You’re unlike other men.”

“In what way?” He asked earnestly.

“You’re not an imbecile who thinks himself entitled to me simply because you’ve a cock.” You said with a smirk, and he chuckled softly at your vulgar words.

He shook his head, “You owe me nothing. However I must ask of you one thing.” He said softly.

“What would that be?” You asked, looking up into his warm eyes.

He took your face into both of his hands, “All I ask is all of you, forever. Claim to your hand in marriage.”

You felt time slow, as if it stopped just for you both.

You’d ogled knights fighting in tourneys, or sparring in the yards. You’d met hundreds of Lords and can recall many you found comely. But none of them made you feel this way. None made your body weaken, and shake. None made your heart quicken. None made heat splash across your cheeks by their gaze alone.

You never thought you’d accept a marriage by a man you’d only met meer hours ago. But he didn’t feel that way. He felt as though he’d been yours a lifetime, and you his.

‘that must be the ale’ you thought. And even if it was, which it wasn’t, Out of all the men you’d seen today he would have been your pick.

You nodded, “You have it.”

You stood on your knees on the end of your bed. Wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a gentle kiss. He sucked gently on your plush lower lip, sweetly and slowly. His hands grasped your hips tightly. Leaving dirtied and bloody hand prints on your shift.

“We shouldn’t, I am bloodied, dirty,” He said reluctantly.

You looked into his eyes, heavy with lust, “Then you should stop touching me with your eyes.” You smirked, and he smirked back at you, his eyes still running over your form, “Besides, I like it.” You said into his lips.

He kissed you passionately, and then bit your lip making you wet. You whimpered as you pulled away, slightly surprised by his boldness. “You are a bad influence, my lady.” He leaned his forehead against your own, and looked into your eyes deviously.

“Your lady?” You teased

“My Princess- my queen.” He said in a whisper as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“Call me my name,” You said with a smirk as your eyes stared at his lips.

“(Y/N)” He smiled as he stared at your lips as well. “My (Y/N),” He whispered into your lips. Kissing you again, passionately.

His hands gripped your plush sides, running them up and down your back, running them through your hair, and soon enough he let go of any restraint as he ran his hand down your front, between your breasts, over your stomach, and between your thighs. You let out a small gasp as you felt his fingers move over your clothed cunt.

“You ever had a man touch you like this?” He rasped into your lips, “It’s alright if ye have, I just want to know how careful I got to be.” He whispered.

You shook your head, “Only my own.” you whispered back.

“I’ll be careful,” He said as he placed his palm cupping your jaw, and his fingers tangled in your hair.

You shook your head again, this time with more conviction, “Don’t be.” You said slightly louder. His eyes stared into yours, as he slipped his hand into your small clothes. Slipping his fingers into your warmth. You moaned softly, and your face contorted to the pleasure. He relished in it. Watching you take the pleasure he was giving you. Loving your sounds more than he thought he ever could. “You feel like silk… Velvet…” He whispered into your lips, his mouth grazing over yours. It was as if he was breathing in each of your moans.

You grabbed a hold of a handful of his dark hair, Pressing his forehead into yours even more, “That feels… good.” You whined, “So good.” You said as he began to kiss your neck.

“You smell like dragon fire.” He said as he inhaled your scent, as if it were intoxicating. His fingers were still toying with your cunt.

He was doing such a good job, you turned your head to whisper into his ear, “You want to ride a dragon?” You asked mischievously with a smirk.

His face left your neck, looking into your eyes with devotion, “Only one.”

You bit your lip looking at him, You stifled a laugh. “Do the biting again, maybe I’ll let you.”

And so he did. He kissed you as if he were a starved man. Biting your lip as you commanded. His fingers motions quickened. He used two fingers to pump in and out of you while his thumb circled your clit.

He sloppily kissed you, from your lips, to the side of your mouth, to your jaw, and finally your neck. Breathing in your scent as he bit and sucked at the sensitive skin of your throat. The pleasure was so great, you felt yourself clenching around his fingers.

Your moans got louder, but he’d not have anyone other than him hearing them. Not let anyone know you, an unwed noble lady, were doing such an indecent act. So he pressed his mouth to yours, practically breathing in your moans to hide them.

You clenched around his fingers tightly as you came. You shook and shuttered as you held onto his shoulders for dear life.

He continued to pulse his fingers into you, helping you ride out your climax, until you were resting your head on his shoulder. A whimpering and panting mess, like the Bracken.

As he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive cunt, he looked at his wet fingers, taking them into his mouth.

You looked at him with exhausted half lidded eyes, “Vulgar.” you said, as if it didn’t make your cunt hungry for more.

“Ah, but you don’t taste vulgar at all.” He said as he held you closer, “You taste sweet like wine.” You said nothing, just looked at him with confusion and a smirk, “You don’t believe me?” He asked as he pressed his lips against yours, and pushed his tongue into your mouth. You tasted yourself on his tongue, and he was right, you did taste sweet.

“Mphmm…” You moaned as your tongues dances together.

Your hand found the tenting bulge in his breeches, you palmed it excitedly, wanting more.

He begrudgingly took your wrist, “I cannot-” He said shutting his eyes, as if looking at you would cause him to break. “We may be drunk, I may be the hardest I’ve ever been, and you the most beautiful woman I've seen… But I cannot.” He said, attempting to convince himself.

“You do not want to?” You asked sweetly.

His eyes went wide at your question, and brows narrowed. “I want to, Gods know that I have wanted to sense I saw you ride that beast into the Riverlands. I thought that I would be able to, but I’ll not sully you without the Gods knowing I’m yours.” He spoke earnestly.

You held in a laugh, “I’d not take you for a pious man.”

You held your face in his hands, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the realm. “I’m not. But you're sacred to me, I don’t know why.” He shook his head.

You smiled softly, “Then take this,” You said as you pulled off your small damp small clothes, “something for you to worship.” You with a cheek grin.

He bit his tongue as he grinned at you. He grabbed hold of your small clothes, shoved them into his breeches for later.

He gave you a final kiss before leaving you for the night.

Finally, you found sleep.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The next morn you began to prepare for your flight back home.

As you put your leather riding gloves on, you looked out to see the members of House Blackwood coming to bid you farewell. Ben following behind, smiling at you.

Lord Blackwood approached you, “My Princess, I do not wish to pester you. However, have you considered perhaps a member of House Blackwood?” He began to ask once again.

You however now had an answer, and delivered it quickly. “The Blackwoods are an ancient house. Once ruled as kings of the Riverlands.” You smiled, “It’d be a great honor.”

Ser Lorent, who was reading his horse, could not believe his ears that you’d made such a decision so quickly.

Lord Blackwood was eliated and attempted to remain composed. “You honor us greatly, Princess.” He let out a breathe to calm himself, smiling widely, “Perhaps our eldest son Samwell-”

“Benjicot.” You interrupted. “If he is willing of course. We are the same age, I feel it will make an equal union.” You explained.

However he was not about to deny you, nor question your decision. As long as he’d the last name Blackwood that was all that mattered. “Very wise, my Princess. Fly safely, we shall see one another again.” He smiled and you smiled back with a nod.

As he left you, Benjicot approached you, as he did his uncle passed him. Patting him on the back excitedly which only annoyed and embarrassed him.

“Princess,” He bowed his head to you, keeping formalities in front of the knights of your mother. He held out a scroll of parchment.

You took the scroll, looking at the wax seal of the sigil of house Blackwood. “What is this?” You asked softly.

“A written proposal of marriage.” He said, holding in an eager smile. “Something to show to your mother. I wish for her to understand my intentions.” He said earnestly.

“I should return this to you before I leave.” You said as you handed him his cloak that he’d given you the day prior.

He shook his head, “Keep it.” He said, stepping closer to you. “You’ll have something of mine, and I something of yours.” He said in a hushed whisper. You smiled softly, and Silverwing purred.

You looked at her, petting her side gently, “She likes you, I think.”

“I should hope so.” He said, intimidated by the large beast. You smirked and giggled softly, “I shall write to you.” He said as you mounted Silverwing.

“I would like that.” You said looking down upon him, hooking yourself into your saddle. “Geros ilas, ēva nyke ūndegon ao arlī.” You said to him sweetly.

“What does that mean?” He asked,

You smirked down at him, “Perhaps one day I will teach you.”

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multific · 3 months

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The Wolf and The Rabbit

Cregan Stark x Reader

Summary: The meeting between the wolf and the rabbit never ended well. The wolf would devour the poor rabbit in seconds. And yet, this wolf would never harm the poor bunny.

When your betrothal was announced, it came as a surprise to you.

Cregan Stark is a feared warrior and for a reason.

He was brutal and killed men without a flinch. His sword drowned in the blood of men.

And yet, it was you he chose as his wife.

You have only met him once, when you were very young, both of you were actually. At the time, he called you a scared little bunny.

You didn't pay much attention to him, you only stayed in his father's Kingdom for a couple of days.

Sure, your house might not be as strong as his, but you held a great name. With a proud father and mother, you were a true Lady.

A Lady who was now declared to become the wife of Cregan.

"But Father, why me?" you asked your father who looked so proud.

"The word came from him, he chose you as his future wife."

"But... why?" you asked rather quietly as you looked at your mother.

"It doesn't matter why. He chose you, it is all that matters." your mother replied.

And soon, you were in a carriage, being delivered to him, wearing your finest dress.

You looked out of the small window of the carriage, letting out a long sigh.

"Why me?" was the question in the back of your head at all times.

As the carriage moved down the road, in between the trees, heading further and further North.

You knew he would be waiting for you.

He would be standing there.

You wondered how he looked, how he had been since you had last seen him.

From the tales, you knew he was fierce and strong. You couldn’t imagine what he looked like. As a young son, he was often told how he would be handsome.

You couldn’t see it. But you were only a child, now you were a woman.

Things might have changed.

You at least hoped they did.

You let out a sigh as you got closer and closer. The nervousness grew deeper and deeper in your heart as you got closer.

Soon, you arrived and the door to your carriage opened. The cold immediately hit you.

It wasn’t the kind of cold when you could see your breath, but you knew what was coming.

Winter.

Not so different from your home.

Home.

This was your home now.

This will be your home now.

You grabbed the servant's hand as you got out and soon, you saw him.

His hair was shaved on the sides. He was handsome.

Damn him.

Even from afar, you could tell, he looked handsome.

He wore fur over his clothes, keeping him warm as he stood tall and proud.

He rolled his shoulders back as he saw you. You could see how he let out a sigh.

“Lord Stark, I am here to announce you, Lady Y/L/N from the House of Y/L/N. As you wished, your bride is presented to you.”

You bowed your head as you were introduced to him. You didn't look up or anywhere, but soon, you did look up.

Your eyes locked with him for the first time in a long while.

How cold and dark his were.

“How could I forget this Little Bunny.” He said with a smirk for a smile.

You just kept your eyes on him.

“My Lord.” You said as you waited for him to lead you into his home.

Lord of Winterfell had a home which looked incredible.

Snow has melted in some places, yet it is still present.

You liked it.

You were left in the hands of a servant who showed you the castle, The Great Keep.

And finally, your room.

"Lord Stark was very adamant about your sleeping arrangements," she said before she opened the door to his chambers. It was his. There were no questions about it in your mind.

The room felt and smelled like a man. It made you very nervous.

You were about to be a wife, his wife. It was up to you to make the Stark name strong and give him children. And that petrified you to no end.

“Why me?” you still asked yourself.

Even when you were left alone to catch a breath, your mind was running.

Soon, you were asked to join him during dinner.

You sat in the chair right next to him, to his right as he sat at the head of the table.

It was a feast, so many different food was placed in front of you, fruits you have never seen.

"I had them make everything as I do not know what you like, as of yet." his voice sounded strangely soft.

It almost didn't fit him.

And yet it did.

His eyes didn't meet yours, he only focused on the food in front of him.

"Thank you." you suddenly said, surprising both of you as you began to eat.

"Wine?" he asked and you nodded as a servant poured you a glass. "It is one which your father sent. Hopefully, it will make you feel more at home."

"Thank you," you said once more as you continued to eat. What felt like the first time in forever, you ate as much as you wished.

"You sure can eat." he suddenly said and you became aware of everything all at once.

"I'm sorry," you said as you pushed your plate and looked at him. "It is just... delicious."

"I'm happy you like it, I didn't mean to make you stop or anything," he said as he pushed the plate back in front of you.

"Oh, okay," you said as you continued to eat. Occasionally you looked at him, only to see that he was avoiding your eyes.

You wondered why he was doing it. You wanted to ask, ask how he ended up choosing you from all the women he could have chosen, he chose you.

Out of all the princesses and ladies, he wanted you. But why?

You will have to find out one way or another.

But for now, you were taken to get washed even if you insisted that you were more than capable of doing it yourself.

You were quick to learn that Cregan Stark didn’t like the answer no.

And so, as you were bathing you asked one of the servants, “What kind of a man is Lord Stark?”

The servants looked at you with a smile.

“He is a wonderful ruler.” One of them said.

“I wish to know the real answer, not a political one, please.”

“He is a good man. A true warrior, he is always practising his sword, and he is a great leader. He always keeps his word. He will be a good husband.”

She did look as if she was telling the truth. At least that helped you to some degree.

But even if it wasn’t true, you feared that she would have not told you. After all, who would?

You knew the two of you would share a room, maybe you could get to know him more intimately.

At least you hoped to, but as soon as you got into bed, the soft furs embraced you and you almost immediately began to fall asleep.

You woke up the next morning.

His side of the bed was cold, which made you wonder if he even slept.

You were dressed in warm and beautiful fur as you headed out to the garden.

Although winter was almost here, and every tree and flower lost their colour, you still enjoyed the garden very much.

The lady who showed you around kept telling you stories about the garden and soon, you entered the training grounds.

"My Lady, we probably shouldn't be here," she said but you just dismissed her and continued on.

You didn't want these men to think that you were only a decoration, a pretty little thing too afraid of some blood and sweat.

But what you found rather interesting was Cregan. He was in the middle of practising his sword and all you could focus on was his muscles as he moved.

"Princess," he said when he saw you.

You were not a princess, you told him before, but he didn't care.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

"I'm having a walk. L-"

"Let me show you around," he said as he left to quickly put his sword down. You looked at the servant who had been walking with you, she simply bowed and left without another word.

You stood there as the men kept staring at you. You tried to softly smile at them as they kept murmuring between one another.

You knew those looks too well.

It made you so uncomfortable.

Finally, Cregan arrived back and you two quickly left the training grounds as he guided you back to his home.

"Do you believe in soulmates, Princess?" he suddenly asked and you looked at him in shock.

"Soulmates?"

"When I was a young pup, my mother told me a story. She said that every person is born as a half and it is up to them to find their other half. You see, she said in the beginning, men and women were one, but we angered the Gods and they separated the whole into two. It is said all of us a doomed to find our other half. And many of us don't while others do."

"I do remember my mother told me the same story."

"Then you must understand my feelings. When I first saw you. We were young and I didn't know back then what my feelings meant. However, now I do. We were meant to be. We are soulmates."

"You must be joking, Sir Stark. How can you believe that?"

"I believe it because I feel it. Do you not?"

"I-" You didn't want to say no, because truth be told, you never actually thought about it. But if you were honest with yourself, you did feel a certain pull towards him. "I'm not sure. Is this why you chose me as your bride?"

"Who else could I choose but you?" weirdly, you understood him, you should have thought he was crazy.

And yet you didn’t.

In your heart, this all felt so right.

“I used to watch you, Princess. Even as a young boy, I knew, there was something special between us. I asked for your hand in marriage because of this connection which I believe in. Do you also feel it?" he looked so hopeful.

His eyes shone as he took a step closer and held both of your hands in his.

"I asked your father for your hand but now, I ask you, Princess. Will you marry me?" you took a deep breath.

"You say such sweet things. Talking about destiny and love, Lord Stark, but how do I know you are truthful? How do I know your words are more than a deception to get closer to my family?"

"I had a feeling you would fear as such. It is why I tried to best my home with the things you like, to properly welcome you. Since I cannot share my feelings with you. I had a new library put in, since a garden in this weather would not hold."

"I will be your wife, Lord." you suddenly said. "Not because of your library or garden, but I do feel the same you claim to. And I'm tired of pretending that I don't. Ever since we were children, I never forgot about you. Even if it was so long ago." you looked into his eyes and they shined with happiness.

"My Love, I promise you will not regret being open about this. I plan on keeping you safe and happy. And tomorrow, after our wedding, I will give you an eternity filled with joy and love."

You believed him, you really did, after all he sounded extremely sincere.

You placed your hands on his chest as he pulled you in for a hug.

You knew this was the beginning of your forever with him.

---

The wedding went well. Suspiciously well.

You expected some kind of disaster.

But nothing.

You two were wed, and celebrated along with the guests.

Your parents were proud of you, you could see it in their eyes, but they also told you multiple times.

You danced, drank and had an amazing time at your wedding.

It was the very first time your husband kissed you and it felt as if everything just fell into place.

As if all of your hidden feelings came to the surface.

Then, years passed.

You heard of a war coming and you feared the worst.

You were with your first child when the news about the Dance of the Dragons came to Winterfell.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon came to ask your husband for his help during the war.

Of course, Cregan promised the Prince his men and sword.

"What bothers you, My Love?" he asked the same night, in the dark of your chambers as he sat on the bed while you stared at the fire.

"I fear my child will grow up without a father."

"I know how much you hate war, My Queen, but-"

"No buts Cregan, I understand why war is coming and I understand why you choose to partake."

"Then you must understand, I am doing it for our child and their future." he stood up and knelt on the floor in front of you. "I promise you, I will be back before our son is born."

"Or daughter." he laughed a little.

"Or little princess. You are right."

You put your hand on his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone.

"I love you, My Wolf."

"And I love you, My Wife." he moved his head and kissed your palm before he picked you up and carried you to your bed.

It might have been a simple story. A simple love story.

But it was yours and you knew it was special.

With a strong and dedicated husband, who would go to war for the future of your child and you.

Who trained a dozen wolves to protect you, who always made sure to not only tell you that he loved you but prove it to you in any and all ways that he could.

House of the Dragon Collection

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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the-joy-of-knowledge · 9 months

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Becoming an Intelligent Woman

My Dears,

There is no greater goal than being a fine woman who is intelligent, kind, and elegant. As much as we all want to be described with these adjectives, it takes a great amount of discipline to get there. It is very doable only if you are ready to put in the work.

Here are steps you can add to your routine in the next 4 weeks that will make you 1% more intelligent than you were before. This is a process that should become a habit not a goal. It is long term, however, I want you to devote just 4 weeks into doing these steps first and recognize the changes that follow.

Watch documentaries: This is the easiest step, we all have access to Youtube. Youtube has a great number of content on art, history, technology, food, science etc that will increase your knowledge and pique your curiosity. I really did not know much about world history especially from the perspective of World war 1 & 2, the roaring 20s, Age of Enlightenment, Jazz era, monarchies etc but with several channels dedicated to breaking down history into easily digestible forms. I have in the last 4 weeks immersed myself into these documentaries. Here are a few I watched:

The fall of monarchies

The Entire History of United Kingdom

The Eight Ages of Greece

World War 1

World War 2

The Roaring '20s

The Cuisine of the Enlightenment

2. Read Classics: I recommend starting with short classics so that you do not get easily discouraged. Try to make reading easy and interesting especially if you struggle with finishing a book. Why classics? You see, if you never went to an exclusive private school in Europe or America with well crafted syllabus that emphasized philosophy, history, art, and literary classics, you might want to know what is felt like and for me this was a strong reason. Asides that, there is so much wisdom and knowledge available in these books. In these books, you gain insights to the authors mind, the historical context of the era, the ingenuity of the author, the hidden messages, and the cultural impact of these books. Most importantly, you develop your personal philosophy from the stories and lessons you have accumulated from the lives of the characters in the books you read. Here are classics to get you started:

Animal Farm by George Orwell

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald

Candide by Voltaire

Paradise lost by John Milton

3. Study the lives of people who inspire you: I dedicate one month to each person that fascinates me. I read their biography (date of birth, background, death, influences, work, style, education, personal life) For this month, I decided to study Frank Lloyd Wright because I was fascinated by the Guggenheim Museum in New York. I began to read about his influence in American Architecture (Organic architecture, Prairie School, Usonian style), his tumultuous personal life, his difficult relationship with his mentor (Louis Sullivan), his most iconic works etc. By the end of the year I would have learned the ins and outs of people I am inspired by through books and documentaries. Here are other people I plan to learn more about:

Winston Churchill

Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis

Ada Lovelace

Benjamin Franklin

Helen Keller

John Nash

Isabella Stewart Gardner

Caroline Herrera

Ernest Hemingway

Catherine the Great

Ann Lowe

My dears, I hope you enjoyed this read. I cannot wait to write more on my journey to becoming a fine woman. I urge you to do this for four weeks and see what changes you notice. Make sure to write as well, it is important to document your progress.

Cheers to a very prosperous 2024!

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creulsummer · 29 days

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Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours- and my kingdom is as great. You have no power over me.

#labyrinth #labyrinthedit #filmedit #filmgifs #movieedit #moviegifs #fyeahmovies #80sedit #nessa007 #userdiana #cinemapix #userbbelcher #chewieblog #sarah williams #sarahwilliamsedit #jennifer connelly #mine #mygifs

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unusual-suspects · 1 month

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my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great. you have no power over me.

#Goth #whimsigoth #dark aesthetic #aesthetic #elder emo #mystical #dark #darkness #witchy #witchcraft #pagan #gothic #witchcore #spooky #eerie #labyrinth

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 months

Note

For the jace and baela scene, reader could be a Tyrell or dornish? I saw that you liked them. I want her to be light and sweet and compassionate, but able to hold jace’s character.

When I saw this scene in the leaks, I had to re-write it...and add the cuteness the show did not

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Jacaerys had not been present when Rhaenyra's great plan turned into a carnage. His hatred for the dragonseeds was so strong you fear he would have taken a small pleasure watching them burn.

A shiver ran down your back at the images.

You thought it was cruel of the Queen to block the doors when Vermithor blazed fire on the dragonseeds who tried to get inside. But you understood Rhaenyra’s decision. There were other dragons on the island. Wild ones. These people all had a drop of Valyrian blood in them. They could claim one of the wild dragons...and turn on her — as Jacaerys feared.

By eliminating them, it lessened the chances of someone claiming a wild dragon and using it against her.

After a bearded man named Hugh finally claimed Vermithor, you went looking for your betrothed. He was not outside with Vermax, nor in his chambers.

Noticing the frown on your brows and your pacing in the corridors, a guard informed you that he saw the prince heading to the library hours ago. You thanked him, and found Jacaerys sitting at a table with a hoard of books around him. He must have come here when he saw the dragonseeds arriving on Dragonstone.

From your angle, you could see a pout on his lips as he rested his head on his fist. His back was to you, so he didn’t see you come in.

‘’It does not befit a prince to pout.’’ Your tone was teasing and light, contrasting to his sulking.

‘’I’m not pouting,’’ Jacaerys denied, not moving.

You took the stack of books from the chair next to his and set it on the table so you could sit on the chair. ‘’What would you call it, then?’’ You raised a brow and poked his pushed out lips.

It usually put his pouting to an end, but his face stayed icy. ‘’I’m reading,’’ he said, turning the page of the book before him.

‘’While your mother waits?’’

He ignored your question, still upset and bitter about the bastard dragonseeds.

A part of you understood Rhaenyra's desire for wanting riders for the two unclaimed dragons. She never thought it would be possible, but Adam of Hull proved to her that the Valyrian blood in bastards was strong enough to claim Seasmoke. Having more dragons on her side will benefit her against the Greens and Vhagar.

But another was aching for Jacaerys. He was made fun of all his childhood for his non-Valyrian features, and these bastards were praised for succeeding in claiming a dragon.

‘’You’re angry,’’ you stated, rubbing his back in an attempt to sooth him.

You’ve been comforting him a lot lately, but nothing you knew seemed to work today.

Jacaerys finally turned to look at you, his eyes hard from his anger. ‘’Aren’t you?’’

You released a breath. ‘’I don’t see what good it would do.’’

‘’They are insults to us. To what makes us Targaryen. If any common lout can ride a dragon, then—’’

‘’That does not make you common!’’

In the year and half you had known Jacaerys, it was striking to you that he had nothing of a common-born. He was raised as royalty, and educated like a prince — an heir. He was well-behaved, silver tongued, and the son of Queen Rhaenyra. He carried her royal blood.

He glanced at you again, then turned away to stare at the table. ‘’You know what I am…’’

‘’I don’t care,’’ you said truly.

In Dorne, bastards were not looked down upon the way they are in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. But they did not inherit from their parents the same as their legitimate children. They were acknowledged, cared after, but never allowed to claim a crown or title that had not been given to them.

‘’You are the crown prince,’’ you continued, ‘’the son of the rightful Queen, and here you are sulking because you believe that if not for the dragon, or the trappings of your station, that you are nothing.’’ You took Jacaerys’ hand in yours, chuckling lightly. ‘’Do you believe you are the first noble heir who was not sired by his noble father? Such is the way of the world, Jace, and in resenting it, you only diminish yourself.’’

Jacaerys leaned his head back on the chair, still pouting. ‘’Easy enough to say. I’ve heard the whispers the whole of my life.’’ You could hear the deep rooted trauma and scars in his voice.

‘’Then prove to them that you are worthy. Get up and take your place by your mother’s side. You and she had your differences lately, but she’ll never replace you by one of them. No one can replace a mother's first son.’’

He was silent for a few moments, staring at the ceiling of the dark library, and took in your words. No one can replace a mother's first son. She had him when she herself was a child. There was no one she loved more than him.

Jacaerys turned to face you, his eyes softening. Your reassurances made him see reason. He was still upset, but he found comfort in your words.

He gripped your hand, and pulled you close. Closeness was his way of finding comfort. When you were settled upon his lap, his hands went to your hips, holding you against him.

Even then, you noticed he was still pouting. You thought the gesture was utterly cute, but you wouldn’t tell him that.

You gently tilted his head to look at you and leaned down to kiss him. ‘’No more pouting.’’

—

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#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #house of the dragon #hotd

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draczrys · 2 months

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Would you write something about Cregan Stark getting married to a reader of a house of your choice and thus sealing alliances and being fluffy?

WINTER ROSE. ❨ cregan stark x tyrell!reader ❩

since your birth, the third child and only daughter of highgarden’s lord, your fate had always been a marriage for political means. your elder brother would inherit the title, the other set for life as a knight of the seven kingdoms. you were a girl and your purpose was to marry well and secure a strong alliance for your family.

it didn’t take long to come to terms with what your life would look like. you would come of age and be sent away to the lord that would benefit you most. for your family, you would do it. but, every night, you would kneel by your pillow and pray that your husband would at least be kind —- it needn’t be true love, like the stories you often read. as long as he wasn’t cruel.

“cregan stark has been named the new lord of winterfell and is in need of a wife,” your father announced one morning, amidst the feasting hall. “i have sent a raven to offer your hand and he has accepted.”

your mother beamed, grasping your shoulders proudly. “my daughter, lady of winterfell.”

“we are in need of his banners and he needs our grain and cloths for the winter,” lord tyrell explains, shrugging as though it were simply a swap of goods and not the life of his daughter. “it is a fair exchange.”

by the next moon, you were departing the green and gold covered fields of highgarden and journeying north on the roseroad. the colder it became, the more you missed the sweet sun and elegant surroundings of your home. northerners were rough and unforgiving to outsiders, each one you met along the way adding to the dreaded image of your husband.

the first time you laid eyes on cregan stark was when you were taken along the path to the godswood. he was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. but his tall build, stoic features and steady gaze made you shiver —- even under the furs you’d been given. he had the look of a northerner, but did he have the heart of one too?

“by the old gods and the new, i name you man and wife,” the septon concluded the ceremony, unbinding the cloth wrapped around your hands. expectant eyes looked on, forcing a blush upon your face as you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to cregan’s cheek.

if you were to confess under the eyes of the godswood, you were afraid of cregan stark. his eyes were unwavering, lips fixed in a permanent frown. other than his vows of marriage, he hadn't said a word. neither of you were elated to be trapped into a marriage of convenience, but you knew you hadn't any choice in the matter. at the least, he could look like he was enduring it.

sat now at the top table in winterfell's great feast hall, your new husband at your side, the celebrations were growing louder the longer the wine was being poured. you sat quietly, barely sipping at your cup. only when the loud, booming voice of cregan's men rang out did you come back to the present.

"a toast, to the new lady of winterfell! may she be as beautiful under our lord as she is beside him."

the laughs that emulated from it made you grimace, so used to being treated as the perfect lady, protected from all things becoming to a man. you knew of sex, the people of the reach having always been open about their bodies and pleasures, but the northern aggression that came with it was foreign to you.

"to the bedding ceremony!"

the ladies at highgarden had warned you of the tradition that came at weddings, the entire party parading around the newlyweds as they stripped and consummated the bond. it was daunting enough to take your new husband to bed, but to be watched by tens of strangers? it had your heart suddenly hammering out of your chest, every muscle tensing in a cold shock.

"enough!" the commanding voice of the man by your side cut through the cheers, silencing the hall in an instant. it was the first time he had spoken since the ceremony, current volume making up for the silence. "there will be no bedding ceremony. anyone who protests will meet the sword at once."

whilst everyone else cowered under the threat, you felt yourself relax with a warm relief. cregan turns to meet your surprise, both his eyes and tongue turning soft as he speaks just to you now.

"you may retire, if you wish."

nodding gratefully, you follow the gentle hand of your lady-in-waiting out of the busy feast and along the strange halls of the cold castle. even your chambers are cold, the climate seeming to cling to the stone around the bed. the silk nightdresses you had brought with you do nothing to shield you from it, so once your lady departs you begin to forage through the chests for something to keep you warm. eventually finding a smaller set of furs amongst the others, you drape it around your shoulders and relish in the heat that comes with it.

"is everything to your liking?"

jumping in shock, you turn on your heels to find cregan stood at the doorway, just about filling the whole space. his eyes flicker down to the furs -- his furs, covering you and a small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

"i'm sorry," you stumble quickly. "it was cold and it was all i could find."

cregan's head shakes, dismissing your apologies. "it's alright. everything here is as much yours as it is mine, now."

you smile, head falling bashfully to glance at the floor. "i hadn't expected everything to be so... different here. it will take some time to adjust, i think."

nodding in understanding, cregan crosses the room to stand in front of you. you feel yourself shiver under his gaze, watching him study you amongst his territory. hesitantly, his hand slips from under his own furs to reach for your own. you let him, both of you treading new water as your learn each other's touch; the smoothness of your palms, the rough pads of his thumbs, the heat that encompassed your chilled knuckles. the sensation is wonderful, like two puzzle pieces slotting together.

"whatever you need to help you enjoy your new life here, no matter the extent, it will be my honour to find it for you," cregan tells you, the kindness in his voice a pleasant welcome. "you are my wife now, it is my duty to make you comfortable."

feeling your cheeks warm, rounding with the first genuine smile in days. your heart swells and the feeling that this marriage might just be okay fills you, so much so that you find yourself reaching up to kiss cregan's cheek once more. unlike the bonding of the vows, this one is genuine and of your own volition, expressing the gratitude you could not find words for.

"i can sleep elsewhere for the night, if you would wish..." cregan continues, clearing his throat to distract from the small blush that creeps past his skin.

"no, stay," you tell him, squeezing his hand. "perhaps we could talk, learn more about each other."

the suggestion eases you both. cregan agrees, using your hand to guide you towards the bed, only leaving for a moment to fetch you more furs for the night. he potters around, changing for sleep, and the domestic scene lets you relax into the pillows.

it wasn't a marriage for love - yet. but perhaps it could be, with time.

#⚔️ ﹐ writings.#hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd drabbles #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark fanfic #tom taylor #hotd x reader

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thewritetofreespeech · 2 months

Text

A Whole New World

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: in the wake of all the rats abandoning ship, you ask Aemond to leave King's Landing with you as well. [sort of in the vein of my tv show series?? mostly because I want to keep it seperate from the rest of my HOTD stuff that is more book related. part -X XX XXX]

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

“Let’s leave this place.”

Aemond looked up at you from his table. Maps and plans littering the surface. There were not enough hours in the day to make headway on a plan to attack or thwart Rhaenyra, so they had moved into your bedroom. “We will leave for Harrenhall in a few days’ time.” He told you. “We will be off soon enough.”

“No, I mean leave this place.” You told him. “Leave Westeros.”

Your husband looked shocked at your suggestion. Understandably. “You would have me leave Westeros. Leave my birthright.”

“It is not yours Aemond.” It was a bitter truth, but a truth none the less, and you were the only one that could tell him that without threat of death.

None of this was supposed to be theirs. Aegon nor Aemond. Deep down they all knew that. Knew that Viserys had not wavered in his final moments on who his favorite child was. Who his first and only was. Alicent could have given the former king 100 sons, and it would not have made up for the one he lost with his first wife. “Rhaenyra now has 7 dragons to our 1 with her dragon mongrels taking flight. Besides which her armies.”

“I have Vhagar!” Aemond shouted in anger. Rising to his feet. “The oldest, strongest, largest dragon in all Seven Kingdoms.”

“And a pack of wild dogs can take down a lion if their numbers are great. I am not trying to upset you Aemond, I’m simply following the maths.”

The prince took a deep breath though his nose and turned from you. Annoyed that you were right, but clearly didn’t want to admit it. “You want me to abandon the city, ney? Run away and hide like the rest of those cowards!”

Aegon had left the city, for his own protection. To where, you could not be sure. That may have been by design as many whispered about how Aemond would kill him in his bed if given the chance. You knew he wouldn’t do that; if for nothing else than the simple fact that it would be dishonorable to murder a cripple in their bed unarmed. His mother had been missing for days at a time now. Uninterested in the war efforts since her dismissal from the council. Such was her right, but the fact that she wouldn’t look you in the eye these days did not grant you comfort on what the former Queen was thinking. The rest seemed to slip out under the cover of darkness. Less and less people seemed to be in the castle. The rats saw that the ship was sinking and were abandoning it quickly.

“I don’t want you to ‘run away’ Aemond. I want you to live.”

Aemond huffed and turned from you again. “Better to die in battle then wither in obscurity.”

“And if you die, and Rhaenyra takes the city, what of me then? Die an honorable suicide like the Queens of old? Be a political prisoner here until the Queen forces me to marry one of her bastard heirs as a good will gesture?”

That got Aemond’s attention. The idea that you could die not nearly as infuriating as the thought that one of Rhaenyra’s “strong boys”, or even her Targaryen brood, would touch you. “That would never happen.”

“You’re right. It wouldn’t. Rhaenyra would have to kill me. If not for the simple fact that I would not bend the knee, but also for the fact that I am a charge to her claim.”

Your hand came to rest at your stomach. Still the same, but not for long. Aemond’s eye followed your hand, and his expression turned to shock before you raised his face to look at you with your other hand. “There are more world out there, my love. Across the Narrow Sea. Beyond. We could take Vhagar and make a new kingdom like your ancestors. We don’t have to stay here and fight over this one. We could have so much more.”

Aemond’s gaze dropped from your hold, but he took your hand at his cheek and held it. “You would have me abandon my family? Turn my back on them?”

“Have they not turned their back on you?” They blamed Aemond for everything. As if he put Aegon up on that stage and gave him a crown. You weren’t naïve enough to think your husband was blameless in his actions during this war, but they were looking for a scapegoat at this point and Aemond was the convenient target. “We are each other’s family now. We are all that matters.”

“Daeron….”

“He can come with us.” You felt maddened to the point of tears. You were fond of Daeron, the few times you had met. A sweet boy who was free of this place. Though you would honestly say anything to Aemond at this point to get him to come. “Helaena too, if you wish. We will fly to some far away place like Aegon and his sisters. Just please….please…let us leave this place.”

Aemond seemed to think about it for a long moment, before he gave you his answer and that was the end of it.

In the morning, Vhagar took flight over the city. Whether she went to Harrenhall with her rider or parts unknown, no one could know then. What was sure, as the histories tell us, was that it would be the last time the great dragon, her rider, or his wife ever came back to the city.

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etheries1015 · 10 months

Note

Because I have favorism towards the fae myself (And I'm sorry this is suggestive)

Remember Malleus' voice line about touching his hornes? Now, reader just touches them whenever they can be reached (like when Malleus is using their lap as a pillow) or stroking his tail whenever it's wrapped around Reader. Without realizing it's doing things to him.

Oh my gosh. Don't apologize for suggestive content, I love that shit. Feed me more of it. Heuheuheuheu.

Feeding a Faes hidden desires

Featuring: Malleus Draconia <3

General warnings: Gender neutral reader

18+ / suggestive content minors please don't interact~

It was difficult for Malleus Draconia to open up to people, he had to be the face of pure perfection for the sake of his kingdom. Every action he took, every word he said, would reflect upon Briar Valley and put his position as a prince in either light of greatness, or foolishness. The former was not an option for Malleus Draconia. He was given the best of the best when it came to his studies and academics, except, unfortunately, sex ed.

He understood the bare minimum of course, for reproduction was important for keeping the bloodline of the Draconias strong. What he was not well versed in, however, was the feeling of lust that came with reproduction. He never knew it could feel so... dirty.

When he had agreed to allow you to touch his horns when you insisted, he had no clue what kind of...desires this would stir up in him without realizing.

You had asked the draconic fae to touch his horns and his tail, and he spent a few times urging you otherwise in fear of harming you in some way. Yet it did not take him very long to feel curious and begin to imagine how your hands would feel upon his horns and extremities, starting out purely out of curiosity and the desire to be closer to you.

The first time you touched his horns was in the comfort of the lounge, he bent over for you to touch and feel them freely before being interrupted by Sebeks outraged cries of blasphemy. Since the moment your soft fingertips pressed against the roughness of his obsidian horns, he felt his body shudder at the contact, and something in him he decided to ignore screamed in his mind that it was perhaps a...dangerous endeavor. He had managed to suppress himself from such thoughts and desires, even allowing you to (on occasion) touch his horns and tail at your request. Never for too long, for when the thoughts returned he made a quick excuse to end the session. He wanted to respect you and your soft touch- not sully the romantic gesture with lustful thoughts.

He was often searching for your touch in many different ways, in hugs, cuddles, gentle kisses, holding hands...yet a few months and almost a year, he could feel himself become far more greedier. Malleus would notice the slight changes in himself when you would reach up to grab hold of something on a shelf, the way your shirt rode up your stomach ever so slightly, the way your hands would draw circles around the title page to get a feel for the book, he almost felt himself envious of the piece of literature. He told himself not to lose control, to hold himself together like a proper gentlefae, allowing you to only touch his draconic features on the rare occasion he felt he could keep himself properly composed.

Yet now there you were, in your room in Ramshackle dorm, sitting upon the lap of your lover gently caressing his smooth black horns absentmindedly. It was a comfortable atmosphere for you, being held lovingly by your tall fae significant other in silence while pouring your love and affection into your little pets upon his horns. You muttered a "beautiful..." before leaning up slightly...

and placing a kiss upon his horns.

Malleus let out a sudden high-pitched "urgh!" of surprise, his tail squeezing your waist slightly. Your eyebrows raised in shock, pulling away to look at your now flushed lover, feeling a bit of...excitement from down below. He suddenly removed his tail from your waist and seemed to want to move away from you, until you pushed your body on top of his own, straddling his waist and feeling his arousal between your thighs.

"I-i'm-" He gulped and let out a low moan, his hands shaking hesitantly mid air, not certain where he should place them, "I'm sorry- this is incredibly unbecoming of a king-" You hushed him with a rushed kiss and shook your head, the kiss lasting only a moment prior to you pulling away face as flushed as his and forehead pressed against his own.

"It's natural," You comforted him, "Do you...like it when I touch your horns, Mal...?" You hesitated your inquiry, his response a simple and slow nod giving you confidence to move your hands back to his horns and begin to rub them intimately. You felt his body twitch below you and his tail wrapped itself around your thigh, voice trembling. You hadn't seen the fae prince so shaken up before, so uncertain, so vulnerable. Only in front of you would he allow himself to lose such control.

"Are you...are you certain? I haven't any...experience," He muttered against the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you tightly as if to console himself.

"It's okay," you murmured, hands removing themselves from his horns much to his whining displeasure of the sudden warmth disappearing from them, before shuddering once more as your attention shifted to his tail. Your finger trailed the scales and you felt him twitch between your thighs through his pants as his excitement stirred with every touch you placed upon his extremities.

"I...want it too," You purred.

Malleus's desire gauge was now at 100%

and you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into.

~~~~

Masterlist

#Twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #malleus #malleus x reader #Malleus draconia #Malleus draconia x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland fanfictions #twst fanfics

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ozai-the-bonsai · 3 months

Text

Like Lovers Do

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You and Daemon would dream about marrying each other before both of you became victims of political marriages, very much against your wills: he was sent to the Vale and you to the Riverlands. However, when your lord husband passes away, you return to King’s Landing, only to find out that your childhood sweetheart is now wearing a crown of his own.

A/N: I am finally back for the Daemon x reader fics, you lovely people! I hope you still remember me after that loooooooooong gap... Anyways, I once again wrote too much and couldn't even get to the point I was heading - I intended this story to be a one-shot but it seems I will be writing another chapter for the spicy stuff ;) I hope you enjoy it! (I am also open to any Daemon requests you might have for me!)

Warnings: I am not a native English speaker, strong language

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina

You had almost forgotten the way his voice sounded.

Fourteen long years had it been, the last time you were given the privilege to let your eyes wander on his handsome face as long as they desired.

You had expected time to have changed you in all the possible ways anyone could ever imagine, the years you had spent at the Riverlands being no different than a bird in a cage did harden you to your very core; however, the moment his sweet voice reached your ears again, you felt yourself melting just as you did when you were six-and-ten.

For the first time in fourteen years; for the first time after you had left King's Landing, you were feeling the warmth in your heart again, waking up from its deep slumber, melting the frost that used to be your heart.

At first, you hadn't even believed it when you heard the whispers roaming the castle about the return of the Rogue Prince.

"Prince Daemon is back," the whispers had said, "and he is wearing a crown."

King of the Narrow Sea? You had thought to yourself, following the crowds into the Throne Room. Is he going to challenge his brother now? Have the years turned him completely mad?

And now, you were watching him, King of the Narrow Sea, give up his crown to King Viserys.

He really is back.

After the ceremony in the Throne Room was over, the Royals and the Small Council moved to the Godswood to celebrate the Prince's victory over the Triarchy. You weren't quite sure whether it was expected of you to join them; however, upon seeing the way your father looked at you, you decided to follow them. Your heart was racing as if it was trying to break free from your chest.

Your father's position in King Jaehaerys’ and after him King Viserys’ Small Council had allowed you an easy, enjoyable life within the walls of the Red Keep, allowing you to share the early years of your youth with Prince Daemon, growing up alongside him.

Until he decided it was time for you to marry a rich lord and be shipped to the Riverlands, of course. You had known long before your father made his decision that you would, sooner or later, have to marry someone - preferably some lord from one of the Great Houses.

However, you had expected your father to come to you with this delicate matter first, instead of shaking hands with the lords as if he was doing some kind of trade.

"I do not care about some stupid lord in the Riverlands," you had told your father upon hearing the terrible news about your future. "I am going to marry Prince Daemon, Father. How can you even begin to compare him with any other man in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Prince Daemon is going to the Vale," your father had responded in a cold voice. It made you realize he had wished for you to become the Prince's wife perhaps even more than you yourself had. "It has been decided that he is to take Lady Rhea Royce as his wife." Upon seeing the tears beginning to form in your eyes, your father had held your hands. "I am sorry, my sweet girl, but there is no other way."

Even though you had known all these years, deep down, that your father's only wish was for you to have an easy, wealthy life (and at the meanwhile keeping his good connections, and establishing relations with the strong houses), the anger you had been feeling never really faded away.

Yes, you had led a wealthy life for the last fourteen years; however, being the second wife of a (compared to your six-and-ten self) fairly old lord had taken all the happiness you had ever known from you. It was almost as if you had forgotten how to enjoy life...

After arriving at the Godswood - since the Red Keep was enormous, it always took ages to get from one place to another - you too poured yourself a glass of red wine as you stood beside your father. King Viserys and some other members of the Small Council were talking with Prince Daemon, mostly about the war against the Triarchy.

Somehow, it seemed like Daemon didn't even notice you were there, maybe he didn't really recognise you after all those years - you couldn't say.

Until King Viserys saw you standing next to your father, the Master of Coins.

The King's face lightened with a bright smile as he turned his eyes to his younger brother, placing his left hand on Daemon's shoulder. "Brother, you surely remember Lord Beesbury's lovely daughter," the King spoke with a delightful tone. "She has, too, recently returned to King's Landing."

The world froze around the two of you when Daemon's purple eyes met yours. Every other person standing there with you faded away, and all the other sounds melted into silence until it was just you and him, the same memory playing in front of your eyes.

"I am going to make you my Queen one day," Daemon whispered in your ear. "I promise you."

You were out at the Godswood, sitting under the moonlight - both of you had to be around sixteen, it was shortly before the calamity that was your marriage.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. "So you plan on winning me and the Iron Throne?" You asked him, only to earn a cocky smirk.

"You would be surprised to see what I am capable of, my Lady."

I have seen what you are capable of, my Prince, you thought as you came back to reality. You were breathing heavily. Capable of winning a war without the support of the Crown, earning your very own crown - but you still gave it up to your brother.

To prevent the awkward silence from getting any longer, Daemon quickly wore his famous smirk as he nodded at the King. "Of course, how could I not," he spoke with a charming aura surrounding him. Taking a step towards you, the Prince held your right hand gently and brought it to his lips. "It has been many years, my Lady." The Prince told you. "Though, it is somewhat unfair that the years have not touched your beauty, not in the slightest."

The poker face, which only showed a humble smile fitting of a lady of your position, would never give away that you were, in fact, dying inside. Feeling his lips and his touch for the very first time in fourteen years had hit you like a wall of bricks.

"You flatter me, my Prince," you spoke with your best I-am-a-noble-lady tone. "Congratulations on your victory."

Before continuing the conversation with his brother and the other Lords, Daemon gave you a small nod - only you realised that he had allowed his eyes to linger on your face longer than they needed to.

[Time Skip}

"I wasn't expecting to see you here again, after all those years."

Hearing his velvet voice, you raised your head to look at Daemon, who was standing to your right. Fixing your silver dress and crossing one leg over the other, you waited for him to continue speaking.

"Why aren't you at the Rivenlands?"

You raised an eyebrow at the Prince as you responded while mimicking the same cocky tone he always used. "Why haven't you been at the Vale all those years?"

The edge of Daemon's lips curled upwards as he shook his head, he was wearing a red, long-armed tunic under his long, black cloak - proudly carrying the colours of his House. "Your attitude hasn't changed even in the slightest, love."

You rolled your eyes at him, keeping your attitude, not letting it falter under the heavy weight of the love your heart still carried for him. Of course, it would have been a lot easier to give into your heart's whispers and welcome him with arms wide open; however, you had grown overmuch furious with him over the years.

First and foremost, he had broken off every damn contact with you at an instant as soon as you had left King's Landing. You haven't heard from Daemon for fourteen years. News and gossip about his doings had reached your ears, of course, but not from Daemon himself.

And second, it had hurt you too fucking much when you saw he had done nothing to fight for your love. As the Prince, he could have had more of a say in the matter than you, but all he had done was tell you goodbye and disappear into the night. That was the last you had seen of him, fourteen years ago.

At first, you had thought that perhaps, Daemon had found the idea of marrying Lady Rhea Royce more appealing than marrying you. Until the news had reached the Riverlands about the Rogue Prince's failed marriage - not long after, he had returned to King's Landing, never to visit the Vale ever again.

Rhea Royce had never been what Daemon desired, and apparently, you too - else, he would have at least tried to find a way to arrange something, anything.

Placing your hands on your lap, you asked. "Can I be of further assistance to you, my Prince?"

"You can start by providing me with an answer, my Lady," Daemon said, arching an eyebrow in your direction. "Why did you return to King's Landing? Has your lord husband got a place in the Small Council now?"

"He has passed away," you spoke with a low voice while playing with your fingers. "A few months ago."

The Prince licked his lower lip. "I would wish to offer you my condolences, love," he spoke, "but I have never liked the sight of that cunt."

Your eyes widened with shock upon hearing his words, you hissed between your teeth. "Seven hells, Daemon!" The Prince shrugged in a careless manner. "Show at least some respect to the dead!"

"Will you be staying here?" he asked, earning a nod from you. "Why not stay at the Riverlands?"

This time, you turned your eyes away - his intense gaze was making you feel dizzy. "There is nothing for me there, at the Riverlands. My late husband's eldest nephew holds the Lord title now." Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward to pour yourself some wine. "You see, we didn't have any children to inherit my late husband's position, hence there was no more need for me."

Upon feeling Daemon's hand closing on top of yours, you quickly raised your head to look at him. Gently, the Prince took the carafe from your hands to pour you a glass of wine. With slow movements, he handed you the glass.

"I thought the whole idea behind you marrying that old man was to provide him with heirs," Daemon spoke, his purple eyes lighting with curiosity. He didn't even explicitly ask about the reason behind the failure but you could easily read it from the way he looked.

"We did try, for years, but..." Taking a moment, you took a big sip from your wine. "He could have tried with a dozen other women for another ten years and it still wouldn't have changed anything."

Daemon pursed his lips upon understanding the meaning behind your words. "I see, this explains why he didn't have any heirs from his first marriage, too." You nodded. "Good riddance, should I say now? At least you are free from that burden of yours."

"As if you cared about me or my burden," you snorted. Upon seeing the confused look inside his eyes, you first drank your half-empty glass - all at once - and then stood up. Raising your head, you looked Daemon in the eye, your faces standing dangerously close to each other. "It has been fourteen fucking years, Daemon," you spoke with a low voice but still, your fury could be heard in every word. "And not one fucking raven from you. You just walked away from my life, as if I meant nothing to you!"

Towards the end, your tone tended to become higher, thus you took a deep breath to keep yourself under control. From the corner of your eye, you could see Queen Alicent and your father taking a curious look in your direction.

With his left hand, Daemon held you firmly on your right wrist as he whispered, looking down at you. "You meant everything to me," he put emphasis on each word. "Don't you dare act as if you don't know it."

Your chest brushed against his with every breath, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. At that very moment, the only thing you wanted was for Daemon to push you against the stone wall behind you and kiss you until you couldn't remember your own name anymore.

With slow movements, Daemon leaned into your ear, his warm breath brushing against your neck. You didn't even realise you were pressing your lips against each other - your breaths were heavy, your head felt dizzy and you slowly got drunk with his smell surrounding you.

"Do you have any idea," the Prince whispered in your ear, his voice full of sex appeal. You could melt right then and there, inside his arms. "How many nights I have spent, thinking about you?"

Back then, when you were both young and in love, Daemon had never touched you other than sharing small kisses (and rarely not-so-small kisses) for you wanted to wait until marriage.

In retrospect, you believed your younger self to have been too naive and, well, young - after seeing one could in fact do whatever they desired as long as it was discrete enough.

Now, all the lust and desire you both had been bottling up for years came to the surface.

Holding onto the last bits of your will, you took a step back, putting some visible distance between Daemon and yourself - so that you could think clearly once more.

"Then why," you asked, your voice sounding weaker than you wanted it to. "Why did you disappear from my life?"

The Prince cast a quick look at the curious people around you - some of the council members seemed kind of interested in your conversation with Daemon since they were sending curious looks in your direction every other second.

Muttering something under his breath - he was probably cursing at the nosiness of the people - Daemon quickly put on one of his most charming smiles. "Perhaps the lady would like to grant me the honour of dining with her this evening," he spoke with his velvet-like voice as he took your hand and brought it to his soft lips. The mild wind was causing his silver hair to sway ever so gently. "Where we can discuss further, as long as she likes."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Of course, you knew what his true intention was. This invitation was more than just a dinner where you could both scream at each other about the fourteen years you have lost - it was also to make up for all that time.

Your brain was shouting at you, telling you that you were making a big mistake - the Prince was still married, even though his marriage had been a bigger failure than yours - but your desires were stronger.

"I would love to, my Prince." The words left your lips before you could even think.

Daemon winked at you before leaving Godswood. "I will be waiting for you in my chambers, love."

#daemon x reader #daemon x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #hotd #hotd fic #daemon x rhaenyra #matt smith #game of thrones #smut

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girlwiththoughts13 · 3 months

Text

The Blackest Green

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader/ Daemon Targaryen x F!reader

Warnings: Incest/ P in V /infidelity/ Age-gap/Minor breeding kink/

Word count: 4k

~~~~~

Aemond Targaryen was an intellectual. The cost of being the object of his elder brother and young nephews jests, was that there was no place he could turn to. With no dragon, no companions, no love, his studies of the histories, his mother tongue and his extensive training with the sword, soothed the ache of his inadequacy.

As well as the shameful lusting of his half-sister Rhaenrya's child. He couldn't recall when he developed these feelings for the girl but he knew he resented himself for it. She was the only one of Rhaenrya's children that inherited valyrian features. Sliver hair that you always wore in a simple braid in order to allow the rest of your locks to flow long down your back, striking violet eyes that looked straight through anyone who gazed into them. You were a mystery to him. He couldn't tell whether you were a bastard or the true born daughter of Laenor, as it seemed Rhaenyra had made you all on her own. However, your beauty went beyond your mother's, it was fact in his mind that no one would ever be able to compare. When you smiled or your eyes met his, his chest burned, his heart attempting to free itself from the confines of his chest and jump into your hands. Regardless, you were the enemy to Aemond and he would not allow himself to fully indulge in these sinful thoughts, your brothers were menaces and although you never participated in his humiliation he had no doubt you were just as savage as the rest of them.

After his eye was taken his hatred grew for Rhaenrya and her bastard children, but as much as he tried, this hatred did not extend to you. To compensate for the immeasurable loss and to eliminate any strife between the families a marriage pact between Aemond and Rhaenrya's daughter was made. Although deep down they all knew that this would not uphold the weight of the growing divide.

You were allowed to journey back to Dragonstone with the rest of your family, only being 10 summers old, it was agreed that you would not wed until you flowered.

That day came at the age of 5 and 10. On the dock leading to your ship, Your mother, the crowned heir stood tall in front of you, looking to you as the great leader you knew she'd be. But you could tell by her misty eyes and the slight tremble in her movements, sending you away to the greens was breaking her heart as it was yours. It was not your desire to leave and be thrown to the wolves who would surely tear you apart for the blood that ran through your veins.

"You must be strong, my girl, you are my heir, the future queen of the seven kingdoms, don't forget that and don't let them forget it either" You nodded hastily as she brought you into a tight embrace. Over her shoulder you locked eyes with your step-father Daemon who had fought very hard to break this betrothal but to no avail. His hand rested on the pommel of Dark sister knuckles white with tension. Daemon had spent these many years on Dragonstone teaching you.. about everything. He said it was to prepare you for the land you would one day rule. He gave you a curt nod which you knew was his way of saying goodbye without all the sentiments. Rhaenrya slowly detached herself from you in a way that let you know she didn't want to. She brought her hand to your check and softly stroked the skin there, staring deeply into your eyes to commit you to memory. There was a very real possibility she would not be seeing you for years to come.

"We won't be there for the ceremony but I'll be in here every step of the way, I promise" She rested her free hand on your heart as a tear slid down your face.

"Goodbye mother"

Being married to the one-eyed prince was not at all the death sentence your brothers had made you to believe it was. It was simply fine. Your arrival to kingslanding was well received and your wedding celebrations were beautiful. No expense was spared for the favorite child of Queen Alicent, no matter how insignificant his station was as a second son. Somewhere along the lines you and Aemond found a way to coexist in peace..in a semblance of care. You would break your fast together, watch him train, ride your dragons and perform your martial duties. Marriage had at last allowed Aemond's heart to open the door to the room that was always meant for you. He knew that you cared for him but it was your love he was after and he had no doubt he'd successfully receive it one day. In the one year you were married your womb did not bare the evidence of his seed, however, he had much fun with the process of conceiving a babe, therefore there were no complaints from him. He instead took this time without children to learn about you as you were. Your favorite color, flower, time of day. You would humor him only when you felt like It; you were greedy with your time and attention, mainly spending that with your grandsire. When he died it broke your heart you had much love for the man and would visit him regularly. But there was an eagerness to ride and alert your mother yourself of her new title of Queen.

One tug at the locked doors of your chamber and you knew what you tried so hard to ignore. Mere hours later Aemond entered your chambers, you wasted no time rushing over to him before he even fully closed the door, grabbing his lapels and pulling him close.

"Tell me what has happened and don't lie to me" Tears were already pressing against the back of your eyes.

"Viserys is dead" Aemond turned into the fearsome man that everyone knew him as, cold and unyielding. "Aegon will be his successor" The moment the words left his lips you released your hold and let out a sharp gasp as if someone had knocked the air from your lungs. "He will be crowned before the masses as his family stands behind him-loyally" You look up at his insinuation that you'd ever support that drunken fool. A scoff escapes you.

"Do you think I will stand behind a usurper? My mother is the rightful Queen and I her heir" Your voice gaining more volume as you spew the proclamations.

He hand reaches out for your arm, pulling you harshly to him "You're my wife, you will stand beside me, without argument" Though you give no further fight, you rip your arm away and turn toward the bed. Aemond lets you go, granting you some reprieve.

Unlike Princess Rhaenys you were not able to escape. Aemond was highly paranoid and had kept you with him at all times. Going as far as moving you into his chambers; Although he was gone for most of the day with you locked within the room with nothing but the walls and your own thoughts as company. Alicent visited you once, attempting to coax you to see things from her point of view. You told her that her and her false king could go fuck themselves.. she never returned.

Night fell and with it came harsh winds that rattled your windows. You regularly added more wood to the hearth to keep yourself warm. It was there you found yourself when Aemond entered the chamber. His steps were erratic and his breaths uneven. "Has anyone been in here?!" Gone was his usually calm and quiet voice replaced with a manic tone. "The door only opens by your hand husband" you answered sarcastically. Your humor vanished at once when he hasty made his way to Maegors tunnels ensuring they were still sealed. You stared into his back remaining seated. "Has something happened?" It was as if he forgot you were there with the way he jumped to you.

He walked quickly and kneeled before you. Hands resting on your hips. "You must know it was not my intention... Vhagar she just.. she wouldn't listen to me anymore..you see" He whispered his eye trained on your stomach. You placed one hand on top of his. "Okay, okay, I hear you, tell me" you were gentle with your voice and touch, understanding this was what he needed from you. Aemond inhaled deeply and finally looked up.

"I killed Lucerys"

The world turned early quiet which then gave way to a ringing so loud it drowned out whatever he was saying. You saw his lips moving fast before your eyes began to blur. His hands beneath yours suddenly burned, so you pulled away from him all together, standing. Your weight was too much for your shaking legs, you made it all of two steps before collapsing, forehead pressed into the ground, mouth beginning to let out pained wails. Your little brother, too kind, too gentle, dead and in such a violent way. Aemond crouched beside you and put his hand on your back wanting nothing more than to comfort his wife. You crawled away from him, screaming all the while. "Get away from me!!"

You made it to your vanity using it as a crutch to lift yourself from the floor. You made quick work of grabbing the small dagger hidden beneath the furniture, the one Daemon had gifted you on your 2 and 10th nameday. You pointed the dagger at him. "I'll kill you". Lunging for Aemond with the intent to kill but no real power behind it. He grabbed your arms and held them high above both of you. "I'm so sorry, my love, stop" Retraining you was no real struggle for him. The dagger dropped to the floor as the fight continued. When he released your hands your palms opened flat against his chest as you pushed him, then again, then a slap across his cheek "Kinslayer" push, slap, "Fight back!" you yelled straining your voice. Wrestling a bit to lower your arms he crushed you into an embrace holding you there as you cried and squirmed. His head rested on the top of your own, whispering apologies.

Since then you scarcely saw Aemond. He avoided you like the plague not wishing to see the anger and hatred in your eyes. You were at abed when your doors were thrown open. You sat up immediately knowing Ameond would never enter your rooms in such a way. The stench of wine and debauchery that was Aegon's signature scent invaded your nostrils. He stumbled his way over to you, calling your name, laughing all the while.

Aegon took a seat at the end of your bed and extended his upper body to you. "Sweet sister, are you not so lonely without your dear husband?"

"What is it that you want Aegon?" In no mood to entertain his idiotic tendencies.

Ever the jester on a mission to embarrass his little brother at every turn, Aegon retold the accounts of his late night adventure in the city. How he went into a brothel and found Aemond curled up in the arms of the madame of the establishment like a new born-babe. It was nice he said how Aemond still found himself with his first woman. It was at times difficult to understand with the crude words and his growing laughter. By the time he was done he had gotten drowsy enough to lay his head down. The soft snores that emitted from his mouth let you know he was down for the night. Aemond the kinslayer, Aemond the unfaithful husband. How much could you take of the shame he forced upon you. With a new determination you knew the fool had left the door unlocked and as Aemond assured the kingsguard there was no way for you to exit, it was unguarded.

Cannibal wouldn't have been tamed into the dragonpit. There was no point attempting to find him there. He wouldn't be to far either, not without his rider. In the long hallways, you pulled your common looking cloak around your self tighter, paying special care to hide your sliver locks. Sending a quick prayer to your gods you pushed open the chamber and it gave way without fuss. Entering you made swift strides to the tunnels in Daemon's old chambers. Once again opening with just a shove.

Somehow you made it to water, a little off from the docks to avoid being seen. When you bring your pointer and middle fingers into your mouth you ready yourself to make it worth it, you let out a loud whistle. There won't be a second chance until people come looking for the source. A beat of silence passes than another. Suddenly you hear the distinct flapping of wings and the wind blowing harsher in your face. Thank the gods cannibal does not let out a roar, as if he's aware of the delicacy of the situation. When he lands at your feet, lightly as he can, you break for his back to climb atop him. Once properly situated he flys high above in the sky, no commands leave your lips but you know where he's taking you, home.

Rhaenrya was restless. The loss of her son and the enslavement of her only daughter. The taking of her throne, her inheritance. The greens had taken so much from her. And yet she still hoped foolishly to avoid war. It was a tiring thing keeping Daemon at bay. He smelled blood. As if he didn't already want Aemond Targaryen's head on a stick for taking you from him, now he has murdered Luke and Rhaenrya was doing nothing about it. He was fully prepared to fly to the red keep and bring you home. It's this same argument he brings to the war room, hovering over the painted table.

"I can go personally. No one will expect my arrival" Daemon is determined facing his new Queen. Jace stands between Baela and Rhaena believing no one to be as affected by your absence than his step-father. "Yes because no one would do something this rash Daemon" Rhaenrya counters. "If we send anyone at all it should not be someone of your high station Prince Daemon" Rhaenys wisely counseled. This meeting was one for those who shared blood, no other lord was present in the room which Rhaenrya was glad of.

"She's the heir to iron throne the longer we wait the faster they''ll kill her" His words were rough to convey the urgency. "Alicent will not kill my daughter" There was still faith in her heart that their friendship during youth held importance to Alicent. "Oh just like she wouldn't take your birthright Rhaenrya? Or kill your son?!" A feign chuckle followed by a huff of bitter words

"Enough! She's my daughter Daemon, Mine and I have decided there's nought to be done for the time being" Rhaenrya commanded the room as now was her right, Rhaenys let the corner of her lip curl forward at the prince's reprimanding. Daemon gives the Queen a cold stare before stomping out of the room.

Rhaenrya sighs while turning to her son walking toward him. "I will bring your sister home, I have not abandoned her, but there are right and wrong paths to go about it and Daemon's way is the wrong one" Jace always thought that all of Daemons 'ways' were the wrong way, he gave a nod to his mother "I know mother, I know"

"DRAGON!!" Knights scurried around the fortress attempting to arrange the scorpion with haste. "Alert the Queen now!"

Grateful that she had not gone to bed after her spat with Daemon, The Queen made her way to the top of the watch towers to oversee the scorpions. They were in position and awaiting her command. Her violet eyes scanned the skies when she spotted the dragon and their rider. A strangled cry escaped her "Stop! It's my daughter!", The knights made quick work to dismantle the weapon "Stand down it's the princess"

Rhaenrya practically ran down the steps. She felt as if her eyes were deceiving her and you'd vanish once again. She stopped a foot away from you as you climbed down your dragon. There was a pause when you hit the sand, taking each other in before you both ran into each others arm. She pressed your head into the top of her breast holding you there, rocking you gently back and forth. "Oh my girl, my sweet girl" She grabbed the sides of your face with both hands looking you all over "Are you hurt?"

"No mother, I'm okay, I'm home" You cried, tears falling.

Rhaenrya and her daughter made their way back into the castle, hand in hand. The queen leading them back to the war room, where she instructed a guard to alert her family to gather. The weight in your chest disappeared when the door gave way and you knew you were in the presence of your true family. Jace spotted you first and stepped forward to wrap you in his arms. He stepped aside to allow your cousins Baela and Rhaena to give you quick embraces followed by "I'm glad you're safe cousin".

Your mother tugged you to her side once again to assure herself you were safe.

A moment passes, all cries and laughs, when the door crashes open. Daemon wordlessly moves forward into the room making a beeline for you. He brings his arms around you when your within reach and stares into the eyes of Rhaenrya over you shoulder while having you in his hold, still upset you had to make your escape all on your own which could have resulted in your death. He turned his head so that his words would only reach your ears.

"Gōntan pōnta renigon ao" Did they touch you? Daemon does not know what he would do if he hears of any wrongdoings brought upon you, his sweet dragon, his purest little girl. "Daor kepus" No uncle.

He steps back and allows you to be swept back into Rhaenryas arms.

It had taken a while to convince your mother that you would be okay in your chambers alone. There was no greater desire than to sleep in the safety of your acestral home and forget the war to come. You sat at your vanity in nothing but your shift combing your hair after a much needed bath. The warmth and weight of a palm fell on your shoulder, you shuddered.

"Kepus" you turned head and he moved his hand to catch your chin and tilt it up. Daemon had never seen such a beautiful sight. A siren if he ever knew one. He was convinced that you had bewitched him. His gentle niece, so eager to learn from her uncle.

"Skorkydoso gōntan ao jiōragon hen, gōntan aōha valzȳrys jikagon ao kesīr?" how did you get out, did your husband send you here? As much as he believed in your strength, he was surprised to see you escape on your own unscathed too. "Daorys iksin jurnegēre, nyke geptot" No one was looking, I left, you shrugged, there really was nothing more to it and It didn't matter now.

You stood to your full height but your uncle towered over you nonetheless. Daemon stared down at you with the same lust he did those few years ago. His hand came up to your shoulder once more this time dragging your sleeve down, freeing one of your breast. he repeated this action to the other, never breaking eye contact as your shift pooled around your feet. His big hand came around your jaw and his thumb stroked your lips softly, barely there. Hand falling down to your neck which he grasped tightly, jealously had a hold on him at the thought of the one-eyed bastard laying his filthy hands on your soft skin. Skin that belonged to him, that was made by him.

You came up on your tip toes in attempt to catch his mouth with yours but he pulled back slightly, a smirk gracing his face. He leans down and you turn your face so his lips meet your cheek which he delivers gentle kisses onto. When you face each other your noses brush together, not being to wait any longer you both press your lips together. His tongue invades your mouth reacquainting himself with your taste. His fingers lace into your moonlight hair, puling you more deeply into him, his other hand falls to your lower back, he lifts you and walks toward your bed where he drops you at the edge of it. You fall back on your elbows and watch as he kneels and brings his hands to the back of your thighs spreading your legs wide for him. He pounces at your center, like a man starved, eyes closing at your sweet essence swirling on his tongue. You throw your head back and let out a quiet moan. Daemon slowly brings one finger to your entrance teasing you before it slips in easily from your wetness and his salvia. He adds another as he sucks at your clit. A shriek rushes out with your building release. Just as you're about to jump off the edge he pulls aways and presses kisses to your skin as he works his way up. From the top of your mound, to your belly, collarbone, neck, jaw, cheek, and when his bulky body that covers yours entirely rests between your legs he smashing his lips on yours once more.

Your fingers rush out to undo his laces of his breeches and the ties on his loose shirt which he shrugs off promptly. Daemon lays atop you bare, his length gliding across your glistening cunt. "Aōha valzȳrys gaomas daor qogralbar ao sȳrī gaomas ziry?" Your husband does not fuck you well does he?

Thoughts of the whore he is coddled by invades your mind. Ever since you were girl you craved a man. You would not find Daemon in the arms of anyone much less a whore play-acting as a babe. No this man above you was all fire and blood in its truest form-and nothing made you more wet than the thought. He taps your cheek "Answer me" switching to common tongue.

"No Kepus, when he laid above me, I'd imagine it was you. I'd remember all the times you were inside me, how good it felt" You pant out. Daemon groaned at your words, pushing inside you. On instinct you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting out a sharp gasp. Long has your shame gone of lying with your mother's husband; Especially when he thrusts hard instantly hitting the spot deep inside you that only he has ever reached. Daemon grunts when he removes himself from your warmth bringing his hands to your waist and flipping you around, dragging your hips up and smoothing a hand down your back, he puts his cock back inside you and begins rutting into you like an animal. You push back against him and he brings one hand around you to furiously rub at you clit. "Uh kepus I'm coming" You cry out. The wave of your orgasm is so intense you feel your cunt clench tightly in an attempt to squeeze him out of you. Daemon stuffs himself back in and chases his own release. "Iksan jāre naejot dīnagon ñuha rūs isse ao" I'm going to put my babe in you. "Everyone can see who you spread your legs open for".

"Yes! Kepus please finish inside me, I want your seed" With that and the tightening of your pussy, Daemon releases with a shout, his cock twitching inside you, seed coating your walls. When he pulls free you feel his seed run down your thighs and onto your fresh sheets.

Daemon moves to lay on his back and pulls you to his side so your head rest across his chest. His hand caresses your arm up and down, it's a nice comfortable silence, and in this moment you can both pretend that it is each other you are married too and there's no threat of war.

"Your soon to become a widow" He promises

"Good"

#aemond targaryen #daemon targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction

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itsonlydana · 5 months

Note

Heyy I just wanted to ask if you could write something for Thranduil x gn!reader just something really light and fluffy maybe like how he takes care of reader what they do in a day and just spending time together doing romantic things and reader really just enjoying life without a care in the world... (Deine Fanfictions sind soooo super ❤️Ich stecke grade sowas von in der Prüfungsphase es ist echt Gold wert wenn man deine Stories zu Lesen hat🤌🏻 )

Spoil Me, Pamper Me, Love Me | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x gn!reader 👑

a cozy day spent with Thranduil

warnings/tags: none, fluff!

words: 1,4k

an: such a lovely request; had such a fun time writing it :) take the elvish terms of endearment with a grain of salt.. i literally googled them lmao but i made sure to use gender neutral names. [Ich wünsche dir viel Erfolg bei deinen Prüfungen, anon! Ich hatte meine im Februar und hoffe du kommst da gut durch <3]

+ masterlist + rules +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Being Thranduil's beloved comes with positives as well as negatives – he is a king, a leader after all, and most of his waking hours are dedicated to keeping up his political alliances.

This spanned from week-long travels to other kingdoms to meetings that could last long enough for most of the day to pass without seeing each other much.

Many of these affairs do not require personal attendance though and only expect Thranduil to correspond through letters; a convenience you both treasured admits all the dragging conferences at round tables that were more draining the less importance of the topic to be discussed – even a royal elitist like Thranduil, who took great pleasure in all things rich and extraordinary drew the line after twelve hours of staring at two types of wood to repair a bridge.

Paperwork days – as you called them – were the perfect opportunity for lazy mornings between you and Thranduil. Drowsily cuddling underneath silken sheets that caught the sunrise in their translucent fabric, shutting out the world for unhurried fooling around in each other's arms and with only your giggles and his huffed laughter carrying any indication you were awake at all.

Breakfast was served in your shared chambers and instead of getting up and dressed you took the small feast in bed, unbothered by the missed chit-chat and gossip that eating in the great hall brought forth for Thranduil's kisses are much sweeter than anything anyone could have done.

There is nothing the Elvenking wouldn't do for his significant other, including providing you with the ripest fruits to feed you only to lose himself in peppering kisses to your lips – chasing after the taste of the fruits that colored your lips red and pink.

"The sweetest," Thranduil mumbles, his lips moving from one upturned corner of your mouth over the bow of your lip to the other corner where he breathes another kiss into the crinkle of amusement that makes no effort of hiding across your whole face.

You are sprawled across the bed, still in an airy night robe that's pushed up to your thighs to leave room for Thranduil's hands to gently caress the skin.

The elf himself towers over you, the comfortable weight of his lean yet strong body pressing down on you as his hair falls over the both of you like a curtain of starlight. Your hands trail over his muscles as kisses the spot behind your ear that has you giggling and nudging your knee against his abdomen to push him away.

"Stop, my King–" you laughed, hands sprawled across his chest without any real strength behind them, "you know I can't stand this teasing!"

You feel the pull of his grin against your skin before you hear the rumble of his deep laugh. "I do, meleth e-guilen, I do," Thranduil says, and tipped his nose against yours, "but that makes it all the more tempting."

Your hands trail up to his shoulders and gather some of the light strands of hair, sweeping it over his back. His skin glows in the sun pouring through the window, thrumming under your touch, and with him draped over you, one warm leg between yours, the heat travels to you even if his broad back blocks out the golden light.

"Awful," you huff, "you are nothing but a dreadful lover, keeping me trapped here in bed." Like your hands on his chest, the words carry no harm behind them or any attempt to push him away from you.

If anything, you revel in the attention he peppers you with. The last weeks had dragged you apart and moments like this, where you had to think about nothing except for your lover's care toward you.

"Awful?" he repeats in a playful tone and makes a move to sit up. "Whatever did I do to deserve such harsh treatment?"

Instead, he quickly grabs you by your waist and before you can realize what's going on he has flipped you over, laughter bubbling up your lungs and spilling out while he falls back onto the mattress, pulling you with him and leaving you to topple over across him.

His fingers dig into your sides, holding you down onto him so you can't even escape the tickling that he dooms you with. "Awful, they say! I will show you dreadful, you minx."

Whenever you do make it out of bed eventually, hair all messed up by his hands, Thranduil insists on dressing you.

He treats you like you are made out of glass, warming up the milky creme in his hands before he massages it into your skin so that the chill doesn't bother you, and he sits behind you on the bed while he combs through your hair.

"Looks like thrush nested here," Thranduil chuckles. He barely evades the hand you swipe back at him as you snort indignantly. "Careful! You will scare the birds if you are not mindful of them"

The curse you throw at him instead has him gasping at the pure filth that leaves your mouth that, after hearing his reaction, curves into a smirk. "Get back to combing, Your Majesty. I do not have all day."

"Your word is my command, guren vell."

Thranduils lips kiss your neck, featherlight and then again, lingering. You sigh and let your head drop backward, falling to his shoulder, and blink up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes full of adoration.

His smile lights up a fire in your heart, the softness of it on marble features a reason to go to war just to see it again and for you to be the only recipient of this gentleness with which he wraps his arms around your middle, the hair comb long forgotten, that fuels the fire for all eternity.

On any other day, the duty to dress you would lay in the hands of your most trusted servants or your own, though nothing reached the level of wonderful that Thranduil made you feel right now, helping you to flowy robes.

For you, he even sinks to his knees, the only being alive that deserves this honor of the Elvenking kneeling in front of them, and you smile down at the crown in his hair, the silver circlet glittering just like his cerulean eyes in the midday sun, as he fixes your shoes for you but not without breathing more kisses on the inside of your calf which he carefully holds.

"Shall we walk through the gardens later?" Thranduils hand falls to your lower back on your way through the intricate floors of the underground palace, evoking a pleasant buzz in your stomach.

"We could go riding out," you muse, thinking back to the last time you and Thranduil had taken out the royal elk.

Thranduil steps closer, ignorant of the servants and elves rushing past you with lowered heads and bows, to nip at the curve of your pointed ear.

For everyone else, it looked like he had just kissed you, but his teeth grazed the delicate skin in a hidden manner.

That's how the public display of his utter devotion to you goes; loving kisses that – away from prying eyes – turn completely devoid of etiquette, as well as his hands that never seem to leave you, whether it's in the form of a simple pressure in your lower back or resting on your side to hold you close to him.

Thranduil did not need to put you on display for everyone to know you were his, the expression in his eyes told the story of a King completely in love in a way that didn't need flashy gems or luxuriant robes; not that those weren't gifts you regularly found yourself unpacking nevertheless.

"Whatever you wish for. My heart is your loyal servant," Thranduil vows, smiling at the bright-eyed expression you gift him at that.

The letters on his desk could wait for a day longer, he had all of eternity to manage his kingdom.

Thranduil spends the rest of the day tied to your side – or behind you on our royal moose, as you take him outside to the forest, Thranduils arms around your waist and his chin propped up on your head, as you let yourself fall into his chest. In these woods, with your beloved's sharp senses taking in all of your surroundings even while he busies himself with twirling the fabric of your robes between his fingers or drops kisses to your shoulder and neck, you are completely safe.

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