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randomdragonfires · 2 months

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Pieces of a Woman | One Shot

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | Even when his life takes a turn for the worse, Aemond Targaryen endures.

WARNINGS | 18+; Canon Divergence AU; Smut; Insanity; B&C; Gore; Delusions; Miscarriage; Yearning; ANGST

WORD COUNT | 7.2k

A/N | This is my personal favourite out of all the stories I've ever written, reposted with a new header and all that fun stuff! Beta read by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs ❤️

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins.

They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment the madness had sunk its claws into his wife. He had watched as her once bright and hopeful eyes became empty and devoid of emotion. He had watched as she was pulled into the darkness completely, becoming a shell of the woman she once was.

As much as he wished he could turn back time, he had accepted his fate. He accepted that he would never have his wife back. He would never hold her in his arms again and never get to lay his head on her lap as she embroidered. She would never read to him in her mellifluous voice ever again, despite the fact that he would give everything he had to have her with him once more.

What good was all this power and wealth, if he could not protect his own family? What good was his title as Prince Regent, if he did not have her to stand by his side? If he could not protect his little boy?

His hair, once braided to the side by her deft and nimble fingers with love, remained uncared for, left loose in all its glory. Training his one dark-rimmed, tired eye at the crypt that held the ashes of his heir, Aemond Targaryen let the sadness take him - for when his son’s life was brutally snuffed out, his wife’s very soul had been too.

There was nobody to blame for it all apart from himself.

Ever since their wedding, she had been a steady and calm presence in his life. She was the quiet to his rage, the water to his fire. He had always been a sullen and lonely child that harbored resentment for those who had wronged him, but he felt his heart steadily calm down with every moment he spent in her presence.

It wasn't until he met her that he realized he was lacking love and consideration, both of which he believed had never received before - not like this. She gave him an opportunity to be a better man; one that he took eagerly with both arms.

In return, he was a respectful husband who did his very best. He wasn’t adept at great gestures of love, but he always made sure that his wife woke with a kiss to her hair and his arms enveloping her body. He wanted her to never know loneliness for as long as he lived, he would make sure of it.

For all his reading and knowledge, Aemond was not good at making his appreciation known verbally. Instead, he would bring her huge tomes from the library so he could read to her. These books covered topics that he was passionate about, so everytime he brought one, he was offering up a part of his soul. Who better to give it to than the woman he has sworn his heart, soul and loyalty to?

He needed her. He needed her from deep in his soul, and he needed her carnally, always. She was all that was missing in his life, and now that he had her, he would always need her.

But right now, as her screams erupted through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, Aemond’s heart lurched in his chest, becoming heavier with each passing moment. The babe was arriving, and it would seem that the child was taking her for all that she was. Everytime she groaned in pain, he held onto the railing tighter than ever, as though it would make her pain go away.

They would not let him in, no. Childbirth was a woman’s fight, and the men would have to wait outside - much like the women did when the men went to battle. There was nothing he would not give to hold her hand right now; to tell her that she would be an absolutely beautiful mother, and that all she had to do was summon all her strength and emerge victorious.

As though she had heard his thoughts, her pained wails slowly died down, replaced by the first cries of a newborn. Boy or girl, the babe had an incredibly strong pair of lungs on them, their mighty cries could overshadow even the loudest of thunderstorms. The cries echoed through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, and the servants outside immediately jumped to work. A new royal babe had been born after all - there was work to be done, celebratory feasts to be organized, chambers to be prepared, nothing but the best for a Targaryen.

His mother stepped out of the chambers and laid a hand on his back in comfort. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled in congratulations. “Mother and babe are well, my son. She has made me so proud. The little one is beautiful, he would go on to achieve many great things. Just like you.”

A son. She had given him an heir to carry his bloodline. How would he ever repay her?

He walked into the chambers with speed that he did not know he possessed, his purpose made clear with each stride. The midwives and maids moved to make way for the One-Eyed Prince, and in he went.

She laid in the middle of the chambers, looking like she had braved the worst experience of her life. Her hair was askew, with sweat coating her entire body, her fatigue was palpable. Blood and waters coated the floor, and the chambers smelled like death. The bloody spots on her shift alarmed him, and it concerned him to see his usually happy and energetic wife look so thoroughly worn out. But then she smiled.

Through all her weariness from the challenges of the birthing bed, she had meekly smiled at him - and all was alright in his world again. He held her cheek in his palm and kissed her forehead, heart full from knowing that she was alright. She reached for his other hand, holding onto it like it was the last thing that kept her tethered to reality.

“Are you well, wife?”

The seemingly simple question certainly did not project the waves of concern that had plagued him outside while he waited with bated breath, but she knew. She saw it in the crinkles on his forehead and the widening of his good eye.

“I am now.”

She had braved battle, and had never looked more beautiful to him than she did now. Her voice was hoarse from all the pained screaming, and she certainly had no business being awake right now - but by the Gods, he was the happiest man in the realm.

The maids were done with wiping the blood off of the babe and had handed the boy to her. Aemond knew right then that he would have to compete for his wife’s attention from then on, for his little son had clearly stolen her heart, and his, within moments of his birth.

Her weak voice called out to him once more. “Aemond, husband… look what we made.”

He was exquisite. Aemond reached out to the babe, his son, and his son's pudgy rose finger latched onto his long, sturdy one as he continued to cry. “He has a strong grip. He shall be a storied warrior." She smiles at the possibility, and he cannot help but kiss her hand once more.

"You’ve given birth to a boy as strong as you are, wife.” He watched as she nudged her nose to the babe’s and smiled, her face glistening from sweat and tears. His newborn son’s cries got louder with each passing moment, but despite being a man of silence and solitude, Aemond had never felt more at peace.

“Thank you.”

Aemond would be the first to deny that he was a doting paragon of a husband that the bards would sing about, but he certainly was a good man who loved and respected his wife.

In the days that followed the birth of his child, he had spent every waking moment that he could spare with the pair of them. Both mother and son had the fierce One-Eyed Prince wrapped around their fingers. Between sparring sessions and battling his family’s idiosyncrasies on the daily, his little family had given him quite the reprieve, one that he was infinitely thankful for.

But now, his son is gone, and his wife is too.

“The heirs need to be kept safe. The twins, little Maelor, all three of them,” his mother said.

He may be in the middle of a war, but it was moments like these that seemed hardest to him. Aemond sat quietly by the hearth, in the very same chair where he always rested. His wife used to sit by him or at his feet as she embroidered. Now, her absence was a gaping hole each time he sat.

“Aemond…”

He turned to the sound of his grandfather calling out his name, looking cold and calculated. It did not escape Aemond that he was discussing the safety of his brother's children while he had lost his own child. The irony of it all was stark and jarring.

“Yes,” he curtly responded.

“It is in our best interests that you…” His grandfather paused midway through his words, and Aemond knew well that the man did that only when unsettling news was to follow. “...that you take a new wife. We’re in need of an alliance, and she can be sent to the motherhouse at Oldtown. She will be cared for, she will be fed-”

He saw red. “My son is dead!” The words tumbled out of Aemond’s mouth like shards of glass before he could even comprehend the gravity of his grandfather’s heavy, cutting words.

"My son’s death is on my conscience, his blood is on my hands. I did not do the deed myself, but it certainly feels like I was the one who wielded the knife that killed him.” The people had taken to calling him a kinslayer, and Aemond felt it in his bones everyday - not because of Lucerys Velaryon, but because of how his rash actions had resulted in the death of his little boy.

“My son is dead, and my wife has not been the same ever since. How do you think I can start a new family, with a new woman, when I know very well that I have caused all the grief that has driven my wife to madness? When I caused the death of my own child?”

Aemond Targaryen always made for a menacing sight, but his grandfather was not prepared for the kind of anger that his grandson had kept stored in him - for himself, his wife, and his son. They were not here, and he was angry enough for all three of them.

The Dowager Queen watched the entire conversation unfold, and she held her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat become frantic with each moment that she saw her son in distress. She knew how content he was in his wife's presence, and how much he loved her. To watch a child grow and fester in his own resentment - no mother should have to witness it. And yet, the Gods saw fit to give Alicent Hightower the closest view to her son's heartbreak.

“Get out,” he seethed. Otto Hightower took Aemond’s raw and angry words in stride before walking away, his head still held high.

His mother stood in front of him, held his hand and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, my boy. I’m so sorry…”

She wept until she could not, and it took everything Aemond had in him to not do the same.

When he tossed and turned in his bed in the middle of the night, he would always reach out for her.

She would always welcome his touch and curl into him, her forehead resting on the smooth planes of his chest and her warm breath making goosebumps rise on his skin. He would hold her tight until neither could ascertain where one ended and the other began, and sleep that normally eluded him would come to him faster than anything else.

Tonight, her spot on the bed is empty.

When he woke in a hurry, he noticed the crumpled sheets and the pillows left askew, the only evidence of her having retired to bed alongside him. He quickly rose from the bed and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, wondering as to where she could have gone at this ungodly hour.

Gods, was she hurt?

He did not have to wait for the divine deities to answer, for his answer came in the form of the sweet humming sounds that he had grown to love. He followed her voice as he walked through their apartments, and it led him to the chamber where his son’s crib was kept. She was sitting next to it in her white shift, her head peeping in as she let her hands rest on the crib. She hummed softly and happily, marveling at how beautiful her little boy looked as he slept - looking much like the man she shared her bed with.

Aemond wanted to ask her to come back to bed immediately. The maesters had advised lots of rest for his wife, given the stress of the labors and the damage her body had taken. But as he watched her and his boy, he knew he couldn’t. He needed a moment to drink in the sight of his wife and son - his entire world, all in one chamber.

He held so much love in his heart for them both despite seeing them only with one eye. Perhaps he’d be able to love them more if he could see them with two.

“He’s going to be there when we wake, wife. Come back to bed.”

She turned to him and smiled, a warm smile that he wished he could brand into his mind for all eternity. “Did I wake you?”

“You did not. Your absence from our bed did.”

She chuckled softly, and he walked over to her. He positioned himself behind her chair and kissed her temple, letting his hands rest on her shoulders. “I don’t think I shall ever tire of looking at him,” She said.

“Hm.” His gaze rested on the sleeping babe, tired from all his crying throughout the day.

“My son, a dragon prince,” She mused. “He’ll be charming, strong and intelligent, just like his father.”

At that, he chuckled darkly and she rose, turning around to face him. Her hand found his cheek and he leaned into her touch, leaving a light kiss on her wrist as he held her hand in place. “What’s so amusing, husband?”

“Charming is not the first word anyone would use to describe me, wife.”

“Well, you are. To me.” Her whispering siren-like voice was like music to his ears.

She reached up on her toes and left a light kiss on his brow, and Aemond was quick to hold her to him by the waist, wanting to have this - this quiet solace - all to himself for a time.

Who was he to argue with the woman around whom his entire world revolved? The very one that held his heart in her hands?

He stands in the middle of what used to be their shared chambers and sighs.

The entire room is covered in pieces of her - fragments of her that he desperately clings to for dear life. Robes and dresses that she had not worn in a long time, but still manage to somehow retain her scent. Quills and ink that she used to write her correspondence with, now left to gather dust. Ten Thousand Ships, her favorite book, one that he had given to her as a name day present, laid abandoned on the bedside table.

This was the very same chamber where he had claimed her. This was where he had first admitted to loving her. This was where she had told him that she was with child. This was where they had spent countless nights talking well into the night, their bodies entwined and voices coming out in hushed whispers and low giggles. This was where they had discovered and learned of the passions of the marital bed, together. This was where their marriage had grown and bloomed.

If he walks a little further, his feet will take him to the adjoined room where his son used to sleep - but try as he might, he does not have the strength for that. Not yet.

He sits by the edge of their bed, the sunlight passing through the windows in streaks of yellow gold. He closes his good eye, hoping for a little time to adjust to the light. Perhaps if he closes it hard enough, he will be able to picture her sitting by the window with her focused eyes trained on her embroidery or one of his books, waiting for him to come back to her after his daily duties.

His nose flares at the unearthly reminder that his wife is no longer his by side. She had been full of happiness and life, and she had brought light into his life. He welcomed it for as long as she was around, but now that she was gone, he closes his eye and avoids it like the plague, much like he does with the sunlight that now warms his skin.

Her world has become dark because of him. How can he sit in the light in good conscience, when he knows he has lost all right to it?

The waves crashed by the shores of Blackwater Bay and she sat on the sands, watching them. She had a book in her hands, and a basket of food that she had the maids prepare for them to take.

Her eyes closely followed her husband as he held their baby son’s hands upright, his little pudgy feet resting over his huge boot-clad ones as he led them forward. The little boy’s gurgling and laughing echoed through the wind, and she took a bite of a juicy apple while holding a book in her other hand.

They were the picture of a happy family, the stories of whom may be immortalized in songs for years to come.

He had not yet begun to walk, and his words were all a blubbering mess - but Aemond Targaryen was not known for being patient. He insisted on guiding his son to his feet so his first steps would come to him quicker, and spoke to him in High Valyrian in hopes that his first words would be in his native tongue.

Her boys had walked all the way toward her with her baby’s toes pressing onto Aemond’s feet harshly. He picked him up and held him then, and his son’s hands landed on his eyepatch. It had become his favorite little plaything these days - the boy took to wrangling it off his father’s head and swinging it with his two fat fingers until he grew tired - that was if he did not notice the sapphire first. By the Gods, if he did, he would insist on taking that off to play with too. His son, like him, had a taste for the finer things in life, it would seem.

“He’s taken well to the waters, I think,” she said. Her fondness for the little lad and her husband was evident in her face as she watched them. Her son had taken to swinging his arms in all directions, occasionally hitting his father’s face.

“Water does not mix with fire and blood. He should not be taking so well to the waters.”

“Suppose he can embrace it all then. Perhaps he’s… special.” She rose to meet her son’s eyes, leaving a kiss on his cheek. The boy smiled, a handful of his father’s alabaster hair in his hands as he pulled. Aemond winced, and she giggled.

“Zaldrītsos…” Aemond murmured, a quiet plea to his son to stop. It fell on deaf ears, but he did not mind. [Little dragon]

A maid had come to inform them that their presence was requested in the keep, and Aemond handed the boy over to her before walking back to give his wife his hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and rubbed her hand with his before leading them away, their steps slow and relaxed.

“We should have another,” she said. Her smile, the source of all his content, was as bright as the sun. “You should take me tonight,” she murmured then, eyes quickly blackened by lust. He watched as the girl with childish wonder transformed into a seductress, and he lost even before he tried - defeat had never felt sweeter.

He could never deny her anything she wanted.

“Do you want me, wife?” He muttered darkly as he halted his steps, turning towards her. He held her by the waist and kissed her brow, waiting for her to respond.

“I always want you,” she murmured, eyes fluttering at the closeness of his lips. Her bright eyes sought his lilac one as the sound of the waves rippled through the air. “I also want to bear you another child. Would you like that, husband? Another little babe for us to love…”

He nodded and kissed her, pouring all his passion into it as he devoured her lips. “You do look beautiful, belly round and full with my child.”

That night, he choked her name out like an urgent prayer while he spilled into her, his peak following soon after hers. He then peppered kisses across her face and neck as the smell of sweat and coupling engulfed them, while she held onto his hair and let her hand wander over it in a soothing manner. He rubbed a hand over her belly, praying that his seed had taken. If not, he would seek her out and touch her everywhere once more - he would never be tired of her.

If another child was what she desired, then she shall have it - for how could he ever deny her?

The burns and injuries had ruined any spirit Aegon may have had as King.

He had watched his brother as he grew into a fierce protector of his family soon after being crowned. Ser Criston had made clear the dangers that they posed to Rhaenyra with their very existence, and it was all Aegon needed to grow into his role as the rightful monarch. However, he had gotten ahead of himself and underestimated his skills as a dragonriding fighter and gotten himself hurt.

Aemond’s role as Prince Regent was something that he slid into seamlessly - he had always known that he was the better fit for the throne after all. His first action was to ensure the safety of his own wife, Helaena and her three children.

“They’ve been moved to our father’s old chambers. Deep in the Holdfast, far away from any possible intru-”

“I know where the chambers are, Aemond. Will you shut up? You’re giving me a headache.” Aegon interrupted, words slurred as he sipped on Arbor Red. The wine sloshed in the cup as it moved in his unsteady hands.

His eyes were trained on his brother, a tired and tested man who was now incharge of running a Kingdom. Aegon knew that the crown was heavy, but it did not compare to the weight of the world that Aemond always carried on his shoulders. It only seemed to have gotten worse since his son’s death and his wife’s isolation.

“Does she fare any better?”

“No.” It is all Aemond wishes to say on the matter.

While he may not want to speak of the family he had lost, Aemond knew that he would protect those he was left with every breath in his body if need be. He may not have been there for his little boy, but he would die before he let a hair on any of his remaining family members’ heads be touched. The regret of being an inadequate husband and father pricked at him like the heat from the bright blaze of the fire in the hearth, and he walked out with purpose.

He knew where he was going next. After all, his feet always carried him to her at nightfall.

When Aemond came home dripping wet from the rain that had drenched him at Storm’s End, he was convinced that he had ruined everything good that he had. He could not imagine a simple scratch on his little boy without feeling angered - how could he expect Rhaenyra to simply accept her son’s death?

He had to get them safe. He had to keep them safe. He had to keep them safe. Safe, safe, safe.

She had just left the babe with the nursemaid and come to their chambers to find a moment of quiet before her son’s inevitable crying began again. Her eyes widened when she opened the door to find her husband completely drenched, looking like he was inviting death with open arms. He may as well have.

“Aemond..” She rushed to him immediately, hands going to his damp hair and clothes. “Gods did it rain on your ride back home? Let me fetch you some clean clothes and something to dry yourself with.” He reached out to her before she could go too far, and she gasped at how cold his touch was.

It was always warm, and tonight it was not.

“Stay, please.”

“I need you to put on something warm first, Aemond. You’ll catch a chill.”

She was too distracted by his wet state to notice the tears mixed with the raindrops. He said nothing as she walked away and brought back fresh garb for him to change into. She quietly bade that he raise his arms and he obeyed, not having the strength to do anything else. Slowly, each garment fell with a wet thwack to the floor and she took to wiping all the water off of him.

His grave silence unnerved her immensely, and she knew something was wrong. She would wait for him to say it.

She dressed him in a linen undershirt and breeches and took him to his beloved chair by the fire, in hopes that it would warm him up and encourage him to tell her of what plagued him. He sat in silence for a long while as she sat cross-legged on the floor, her forehead leaning on one of his thighs while her finger drew mindless patterns on the other.

His hand always reached for her hair when they sat like this, but tonight, that was not the case. She looked up at him with inquiring eyes, and as he caught her vision with his one eye, he did not have the heart to tell her what he had done, but he had to.

“I killed Lucerys Velaryon.” His voice is hoarse and the words are choked out with difficulty, and while the weight of his actions hit him hard, it was harder to watch his sweet wife’s concerned face morph into something else entirely.

“What?”

“He was sent as an envoy. I only meant…” He gulped, and the tears fell freely once more.

She quickly lifted herself up and straddled him, holding his face in both her hands. Her fingers caught every tear that fell in quick succession. “Tell me, go on.”

“I only meant to scare him. I need you to believe me, I did not mean to kill him.”

Her husband was a proud man, and it made her stomach churn to see him sound so broken. She feared that she may not like what she was about to hear, but she had promised to be his other half for all his life, and now he needed her.

He may be fearsome, but he was not a cold-blooded murderer. He did not mean to kill him - but how much weight did his intent hold, now that the boy was dead?

“I believe you. Go on.”

“The dragons…” He let out a hoarse breath and she continued to wipe at his tears with the tips of her thumbs - softness that he right now felt very undeserving of. “Arrax breathed fire at Vhagar and she retaliated, she bit into the dragon’s neck and Luke fell, so did Arrax.”

She felt light headed with worry. How could she stomach the thought of a young boy falling to his death from the skies? How could she, when she was a mother to a little boy herself?

His uncle, Daemon, was going to come for them, Aemond was sure of that. But he could not bring himself to think of much else as he watched his wife digest all that he had told her, never once ceasing to remind him that she believed him, even if nobody else would.

When they rose, Aemond’s anger knew no bounds. The possible consequences ran through his mind as he pushed his desk onto the floor with brute force. The sharp edges of her vanity had drawn blood from the back of his hand as he moved in frustration, and she was quick to hold onto him and remind him of her presence. He was not alone, he had her.

“Take me. Take it out on me.” Aemond could not think straight, and she could not bear to see him hurt himself, any more than he already has. It is this very thought that drives her to take his hand and lay it upon her clothed chest.

He took her from behind that night, hands clutching onto her bouncing breasts. Every string that was stretched had snapped with each rough thrust into her, the sounds of skin slapping skin somehow seeming too rough that night. “We’re going to be fine, wife,” he groaned - and she did not know whom he was trying to placate - her, or himself?

“I will keep you safe, the both of you.”

When he was done with her, she was left looking ragged with dried tear tracks on her face. He wanted to apologize - it seemed as though he hurt everything he touched, and after his now dead Stong nephew, his own sweet wife was his latest victim.

She held him between her breasts that night as they both wept, at a loss for words at what he had done. She did not know how to comfort him or rid him of the guilt or paranoia that his mind now played host to.

What she did know is that her husband needed her, and that she was not going anywhere. So when he suggested sending her and their son away, fearing for her safety, she begged him to let her stand by his side.

“If something were to happen to me, there would be nobody to protect you and our boy.”

“If something were to happen to you, our son and I would much rather follow you than brave many years alone.”

He reluctantly gave in, thinking that an increased guard and his constant presence around them would be enough to keep them unharmed.

How wrong he was.

He had walked away only for a moment.

His wife had wanted to eat some cake during the night - he suspected that she was with child again. Little did he know that it was the last moment of their happy marriage. The sight that he had walked back into was something that would never fail to haunt him.

Dead guards, a whole litany of them. His wife in her bloodied white shift, holding onto their son’s decapitated body. All the light in her eyes had dimmed as he stood frozen in place, his eye widened at the harrowing sight before him.

She wailed as she clutched the corpse to her chest, with no care for the injuries on her own body, or the blood of their babe that was now mixed in with her own.

“My boy, my precious boy…”

The rest of the royal family soon followed and his mother pulled her away from the babe’s lifeless body. He fell to the floor with no one to hold him, and Aemond could do nothing but watch. Aegon’s angry calls for his nephew’s head to be brought back along with the killers slipped into one ear and slipped out the other, and he went numb as he realized that the consequences of his actions had caught up to him.

Him, he could understand. But his sweet wife, his little son? What had they done?

A son for a son.

The rational part of his mind would have argued that Luke’s death probably left Rhaenyra feeling the same tragedy that he was faced with - but he was anything but rational in that moment. His fists clenched as his knuckles met the wall, and Aegon had to physically restrain him from walking out to catch the rats himself.

“She needs you. She needs you. She needs you. Listen to me, Aemond!”

Helaena had collapsed onto the chair entirely, repeating ominous words that he did not register at all.

“Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese.”

Aegon had gone to join in the hunt for his nephew’s killers, and she kept rocking herself back and forth at the sight of the blood that now painted the walls and floors of her brother’s chambers until she was led away. Aemond stood, all alone in a pool of his son’s and wife’s blood.

When the Silent Sisters were led into the chamber by his grandfather, Aemond froze. His wife had held their lifeless son to her breast as she cried, but he could not bring himself to look at him, much less touch him.

Hours later, with patches of his own son's blood soaked through his clothes, he had gone to see her. He held her in his arms as she sobbed through the night, trying to push him away with each firm hit to his chest. Aemond shushed her over and over to no avail, holding her closer each time she tried to separate herself from him. Sometime during that night, her eyes had become lifeless; a deep abyss. The sight of it finally drove him to tears too, with his good eye becoming a glistening violet ring floating in a sea of angry red.

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins. They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment when the madness had sunk its claws into his wife.

It was right then as he held her, comforting her and apologizing like a madman for tainting her life with his presence.

The moonlight diverged through the stained glass windows that directly faced the room where she now resided. She had been kept in these chambers before their wedding, and she often spoke of how beautiful the lights were when they fell directly onto the corridors, reflecting the colors of the glass that they slid through. He wondered if she still thought the same. He wondered if she even looked.

In the day that followed their son’s death, they had burned their little boy and watched as his body was wheeled around the streets of King’s Landing for their benefit. Aemond had wanted to retch then, but he held his wife tight as the people empathized with the kind princess whose time as a doting mother had been brutally cut short.

She fared worse - she looked dead in her eyes, and he was sure she was lost on the inside too. He did not know if she even sensed his hold on her as she kept muttering their dead boy’s name in a series of weak whimpers.

Two days later, she had lost their second child. He held her from behind and rocked her gently as the blood flowed from between her thighs for hours, the babe coming out in clumps of bloodied skin, having never drawn breath. Every moment of his wife’s torture plagued Aemond’s existence, and he questioned his abilities as a protector while grieving his son and his unborn child all alone.

The Gods were cruel to him in their games. They made him watch as his son’s life was taken, and they took bits of his wife’s mind and soul with each passing day. He supposed that this was the hand that kinslayers were dealt.

It was a slow death for Aemond, and it had begun the day his son was killed. Now he had to watch as his once vivacious wife completely lost hold over all her senses, and lived in a world where he could not reach her.

On some days, she would receive him with love, as though his presence in her life had not destroyed her completely. He would be able to revel in her touch once more, if only to simply be able to remind himself that she was still alive - in body, if not soul. He missed her, his wife, his woman, his entire heart. But his actions had killed her from the inside - did he have a right to his yearning anymore? He did not want to know, for he feared that he may not like the answer.

On other days, she would be the complete embodiment of madness. She would fight the maesters and scream at them, begging for them to let her die and throw herself off the window. She would pull at her beautiful hair, blame him continuously and shriek, mourning the loss of their child.

When she was done, she'd lower her voice and murmur words into the air. Speaking to no one in particular, almost like a ghost, she'd fidget with her dress and say, "His body twitched after they hurt him. My baby boy suffered. Oh, my boy!"

He may not have wielded the knife that removed his head, but his actions caused it. He may as well have killed his son himself. Guilt was not an emotion that Aemond Targaryen knew well as a boy, but it was all he now knew as a grown man.

She would bawl and cry at him to go away. She would scream at him to leave her alone, and blame him for killing her children - and rightfully so. And though it pricked at his heart, he would come back every night.

He wonders how she is feeling tonight. He wishes she was ignorant and unaware, for he is desperate for her touch, her company. It has been weeks. He is brought back to reality when the Maester’s gown billows behind him in the night wind.

“Your Grace.” he bows.

“How is she?”

“Somewhat calmed tonight and not lucid, my prince.” The old man sighs before continuing. “The Princess continues to ask for her little prince. We have given her milk of the poppy, so she may fall asleep soon enough.”

“Hm.”

He is mildly relieved to hear that she is not herself tonight - for it allows him to relive some of their happier days.

In his hand is a book - Ten Thousand Ships, the very one that he had gifted her. He dismisses the maester and his stewards follow behind him. Aemond walks into the room with his mind steeled, ready to be brave - for himself and for her.

“Husband! Come, come!” Her cheery voice is not quite hers, and it unnerves Aemond - her words are not from her heart, and it takes everything in him to not fall to his knees and apologize once more for what he has done to her. “The Maester said our boy’s learning to walk! Did you see him? I was promised that you would bring him tonight! Where is he?”

Gone, where we cannot see him, he wants to say. But how could he, without wanting to throw himself at her feet in regret? “He is tired. All that walking has exhausted him.”

“I suppose, yes! They tried to force me to take that vile concoction once more tonight, I managed to push it away and evade them! Look!” His gaze follows her hand and sees the spilled milk of the poppy on the floor. His wife was a calm and steady woman, and now she was behaving like a child and mistreating maesters.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You should not do that, wife. It is not proper.”

He holds her hand and kisses her knuckles, before leaning his head back to look at her. Her hair has not been combed today, and he gently turns her around to run his fingers through her hair, digits trembling at touching her once more. She could come to at any moment and remember who had caused her such distress, and then she would cry until he walked away - the very real possibility rakes at Aemond, so he remains prepared for her to push him away any time now.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

"I know. I drank it the second time. I'm sorry."

He then turns her back to face him and notices the dark rims around her empty eyes. He sighs and lets out a long, heavy breath. If he was drunk enough and she was unaware, he would fool himself into thinking that they were alright. But they aren’t.

“It is time to go to bed, wife. Will you come with me?” I love you, I miss you and I am sorry. Will you come back to me? Please?

He kisses both her eyelids and leads her to the bed in her shift. He gently helps her lay down, following her immediately as he lays next to her. She leans into his hold seamlessly and he tightens his arm around her - it hurts him how despite her madness, her penchant to seek out his touch never changes.

He takes the book from the bedside table, and she squeals. “Will you read to me tonight, husband? I do love it when you read to me. Perhaps a quiet moment between the both of us before the maids bring our son back? You know how he makes a fuss and refuses to give us a moment of quiet!” She laughs, and Aemond holds his tears back once more.

“Of course.” He kisses her temple.

He begins reading and the dry sounds of his throat lull her to sleep in his arms as he rakes his fingers through her hair. When she has completely drifted away from him, he allows himself a moment of thought and kisses her on the lips - watching as she murmurs his name.

He had taken her to wife, and sworn to protect her from any harm that may come her way. In the end, the only one she had to be protected from, was himself. He failed her, and now, he would not rest until he picked up all the pieces and put her back together.

When morning comes, she may still be unconscious of her surroundings and allow him some more time, or she may be lucid and scratch at his face until he leaves her alone. The uncertainty kills him, but he will allow himself to enjoy her tonight.

It was on this very day that he had kissed her for the first time, in the Sept, between the statues of the Mother and the Father. On this day, four years ago, they were married.

And on this day, he continues to read to her because she had asked, even when she had fallen asleep - for how could he ever deny her?

BONUS CHAPTER FOR THIS FIC, HERE.

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MASTERLIST

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cower-before-power · 3 months

Text

As Mortals Do

Pairing: Gale X Fem Reader

Summary: As much as you enjoy being with Gale in the Weave, you love being with him just as he is more- aka All The Ways Mystra Missed Out

Warnings: Implied sex, very light grinding, mentions of oral (both on Gale and reader), I guess a smattering of angst?? But mostly soppy romantic, sexy fluff. MINORS STAY AWAY!

Word Count: approx 1300

A/N: I haven't written anything for ages but I'm obsessed with BG3 and Gale, just had a little idea and decided to jot it down. I hate hate hate Mystra, Gale deserves all the love and adoration just as he is, and this is me giving it to him haha. I'm not a Weave sex expert, nor do I know for sure if Gale and Mystra did it outside the Weave, but this is my fic and I'll do what I want!

Mystra is a fool, you think.

It’s not a new thought. You often find your mind turning to the goddess, and the depths of her raging stupidity. How she cast aside a man so full of love and devotion, a man whose heart bled worship and loyalty, a man who gives and gives and gives. A man like Gale Dekarios deserves to be loved as much as he loves, to be held near and never let go of.

Her loss is your gain, you think to yourself smugly, as you lay on your lover’s chest, the two of you basking in the sweet afterglow of your lovemaking. Gale is all yours now. His mind yours to delight in, his body yours to lose yourself in, his heart yours to cherish as the precious thing that it is.

You do not intend to replicate her mistakes.

“I can hear the gears in your brain turning, love,” Gale’s rich voice rumbles softly under your ear. “Spare a thought?”

You prop yourself up on an elbow, allowing yourself to drink deep of his satisfied visage before you answer. Gale is truly a vision after you’ve wrung pleasure from him, eyes aglow and face flushed, happiness exuding from every pore. You keep the image tucked close to your heart, a special treasure for you and you alone to revel in.

“I was just reflecting on the folly of your previous lover, darling. As I often do.”

Mystra’s name no longer brings pain to his dark eyes. Instead, he quirks a brow, no doubt curious as to the train of your thoughts.

“Oh? And in what way do you find fault in her this time?”

You brush your fingers along his cheek, his forehead, the slope of his nose. His skin is warm and slick with sweat. “I couldn’t help but think how foolish of her to never have you like this, in this mortal plane. She missed out greatly.”

Gale catches the hand tracing his face, bringing it to his mouth to kiss each of your fingertips. A shiver of delight skitters up your spine.

“How do you figure that?” He asks, lips moving to press more kisses to your palm, your wrist. You want to melt into his gentle devotion, but you have a point you wish to make. Gently, you prise your hand from his grasp, settling it over his beating heart.

You grin down at him. “Don’t mistake me, sex in the Weave is incredible. Every time you take me in there, I’m drowned in ecstasy. Our very souls meeting, entwining like that? It’s not something I ever thought I’d experience, and I’m thrilled I get to. With you.”

Gale smiles at that. “I’m glad to show you those delights, my love.”

“But,” you lean forward and press your lips to his quickly, gently. “as pleasurable as the Weave is, it skips a lot of my favourite parts.”

Gale’s mouth opens, no doubt to inquire what you mean, but you silence him with a firmer press of your lips.

“Your ethereal paramour did not have many glorious experiences, darling,” your breath mingles with his as your lips brush teasingly. “She did not get to feel the smoothness of your lips the graze of your beard against her skin as you kiss her. Or how it bites deliciously against her sensitive inner thighs.”

You nip his bottom lip softly, relishing in the hitch of his breath and the flutter of his lashes.

“She did not smell your scent, sandalwood and mulled wine and bound leather, and how it mixes with the musk of sex and passion into an elixir I wish I could bathe in.” To drive your point, you lower your face to rest in the crook of his neck, inhaling a generous lungful of said aroma. It sends a visible shudder right through you, and you feel yourself already wanting for your wizard again.

Your tongue sneaks out to lave a long stripe up the side of his neck. and the soft groan that tears from Gale’s throat makes your whole being positively ache with need.

“She did not taste your sweat, the salty tang of your spend. She did not feel the wonderful heaviness of you on her tongue, the little twitch right before you spill. Or see the way you look so thoroughly and splendidly debauched after I’m done with you.”

You climb atop him, hands braced on his chest as he grips your hips harshly. Gods above, he is a truly beautiful sight. You think you are the luckiest woman in all Faerun, to have such a man beneath you.

“She did not get to feel how warm you are inside her, how delicious it feels to be flooded with your seed. How connecting in that base, physical manner can feel just as wonderful as a merging of souls.”

To emphasize your words, you grind your hips against his, mewling softly at the feel of him growing between your thighs. Gale himself is practically panting, his sweet brown eyes nearly swallowed by dark lust, his own hips rutting up into yours mindlessly as he hangs on your every word.

You lean over him, chest to chest, face to face. Close as close can be, just the way you always want to be.

“She missed out on so much you have to offer,” you whisper, “and I’m not sorry for her. I’m greedy, all of this-intimacy, unconditional love, an equal partnership-with you is mine and mine alone.”

Gale snaps then, leaning up to capture your mouth in a voracious kiss. You sigh and sag into him, letting him devour your mouth as his hands wander the expanse of your naked skin. His kiss excites, his touch inflames, your bodies melt together like they were made to be entwined.

You firmly believe they were.

Lips meet, tongues dance, sighs and groans mingle in the soft moonlight. You soft whimpers of delight however, are soon abruptly turned into a squeal as he flips you under him. “Gale!”

Your wizard simply smiles down at you in awe and reverence. You think his eyes might be glassed with unshed tears. “My love, your words….I would ask if you truly mean them, but you’ve been quite the persistent one in making me believe my own worth.”

You return his smile. “I am annoying in that way, aren’t I?”

“Doggedly so,” Gale teases, kissing your nose as it scrunches up at his jesting. “But, I appreciate it. More than even my verbose vocabulary can explain, if you can believe that.”

You giggle. “My wizard of words? Unable to explain something? I certainly cannot believe it.”

Gale’s smile turns salacious. “No matter. I’m learning the benefit of expressing myself physically when words fail me.” He shifts, hard as steel against you, and a moan strangles itself in your throat. “Now, my love, my light, my darling precious gem, shall I express my feelings on your lovely speech with my body? Allow you to enjoy all the things you just praised so eloquently?"

He shifts again, and you cant your hips upwards with a whine, desperation seeping into your pores. You want to have him, again and again again, unending, unyielding. You feel like you might go mad if you don't.

Gale’s reciprocation of your hunger shines down upon you like the sun. “Let me indulge in you, sweetheart,” he croons lowly, “let me bring you to the heights of pleasure. In all the corporeal ways that mortals do.”

Your heart cracks open, joy overflowing. There is no greater bliss. He is bliss, in all that he is and all that he gives to you.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, as Gale presses in and consumes you whole. “As mortals do.”

#gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale bg3 #bg3 x reader #gale baldurs gate 3 #baulder's gate 3 #my writing #gale x reader

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tomorrcwz · 2 months

Text

✰ TO BUILD A HOME, L. HAMILTON

[ preview ] Lewis has grown softer, more domestic and slighty more protective of you since knowing you're having a baby, and you're absolutely loving it whenever you shower together or travel to races.

[ tw ] pregnant female reader, showering together (but not sexual!!)

[ req ] hi can I request for lewis. Where y/n is pregnant and him being so protective and domestic and soft with her. No smut if possible just fluff. You may add some angst if u want thank youu

. previous | masterlist .

home | the domestic side of him

The day starts off fairly normal as Lewis gets up before you, gently kissing your forehead that causes you to shuffle closer into his touch, and tries to move Roscoe, who's tangled between your arms, to go out for a quick morning jog. Through the dog has other plans, lowly growling at him, a sign that he much rather spend time in your presence — you have always shared a close bond but since falling pregnant, rosc wouldn't leave your side, even before Lewis or you knew of the baby. It's endearing to your partner, seeing you with his first child, all cozy in the family bed.

So Lewis decides to go on a jog alone which doesn't take him more than half an hour. He much prefers more being home with you and he has undertake the task of making you breakfast and shower your hair, something he has never realised could be so romantic and domestic. There was a time you both showered together but it was after having sex or to have a quickie, however it was never with the pure intention of taking a shower to get clean and fresh to start the day. But he loves the change, and he likes to take care of your hair, be it massaging your scalp, de-tangeling or whatsoever. And he's quite serious about styling your hair to whichever style you prefer.

In fact he hopes to get very good at it to do his child hair's, through you say he's already unbelievable fantastic with his fingers and claim that he has the eyes for it. You'll giggle and exclaim happily of his hidden talent, and talk on and on about how he should be a hair stylist after ending his racing career. His response is without a doubt everytime the same. "Get your facts straight, pretty girl, I'll only do your and our children's hair", to which you'll react with a shy smile and an i love you. You truly mean those words. There's no one you've ever met in your life that has captured your heart like him, takes your breath away like him, touches you like him and loves you like him. He's passionate about life and your romance, never backing down when your relationship hits a rough place, is strong willed and loves deeply. Loyalty, trust and communication are the big three in your love bond, and you push each other every day to the best version, to feel confident and appreciated.

The man besides you is your equal and you're his, without a shadow of a doubt.

You can confidently speak of each other as your home because home is not a place but a person and Lewis is your person and father of your unborn child. Its the truest form of love and peace, comforting and warm, healthy and free. With him, there's no pressure, he stands throughout every problem on your path, let it be work or small silly things like a broken flower pot — he'll offer his companionship, idea and listens, doesn't matter if he actually has the time to do so with racing and media stuff going on, he makes the time.

Its funny actually which lengths you go for another without being married — something that irritates your father greatly as he believes you have to put a ring on the finger when you love someone this way. He can't understand how it's working for you and Lewis but he reluctantly respects it. Has to, he has no other choice because Lewis and you are endgame as Charles, your man's future teammate, mumbles whenever he's joining you for lunch or a small getaway. The monegasque has a soft spot in your heart.

Returning home, Lewis is still catching his breath as he steps up the stairs towards your bedroom. You sit there, Roscoe's head on your thight as you turn a page over your newest reading over, eyebrows knitted together in wonder of what's going to happen to the protagonist. A certain calmness flots the room, the lightness of the sun dips you in a glow and Lewis thinks you look like a mystical goddess. He really broke every possible imagination and desire with you, his darling pretty girl.

"Good morning, pretty girl, slept well?", he asks, moving forward to give you a kiss on the lips. You're welcoming it, hands looping around his sweaty shoulders as he sits down next to you, tilting your head to the side to get better access. "Slept very well but missed waking up next to you", you pout after breaking the kiss, "want to shower together, handsome?"

"Thought you'll never ask", he laughs,"up you go." He stretches his hand for you to grab, helping you sit up and then stand on your feet. Then, unexpectedly, one of his bulky arms wrap around your middle and the other under the back of the knees, manhandling you in his arms. You squeek like a little girl but you recover fastly, mushing your face between the space of where his shoulders meet the neck, and nip on the skin playfully. Lewis' grip only tighten, smacking a kiss on the crown of your hair.

In the bathroom, he puts you down with ease, watching you carefully while doing so. "Everything's fine baby, thank you for your service", you mutter sleepily, the corners of your mouth lifted. Wordlessly, he takes the hem of his your t-shirt, waiting for your consent to pull it over your head. It makes your heart flutter — after all this time Lewis is still a gentleman. "Please do it", you consent, arms in the air. He does and he also removes your shorts and underwear before getting nude aswell and taking your hand in his to guide you to the shower.

Said shower is large and has a small seating space, something Lewis insisted on adding when you announced your pregnancy. It's an incredibly good investment and lifts up the shower space.

Lewis takes the showerhead and turns on the water, waiting for it to hit the temperature you like (and doesn't burn him) before rinsing his body hastily and wets your body and roots of your hair. After that he puts the showerhead into the intended holder in a way it waters your head and stands right in front of you, stomachs touching. You look him in the eyes, leaning in. "Give me a kiss", you plea, lips puckering for his to meet yours.

"Only because you asked so nicely", he mumbles, breath fawning over your face, causing heat to creep up your cheeks. Without asking, Lewis takes the shampoo bottle out of your hand. "Let me do it", he says softly, gazing concentrated on the blop of clear shampoo in his hands, which he then rubs in his hands, causing it to bubble.

You peek his cheek, grabbing his body shampoo and massage it into his skin, his broad shoulders first and move on to the abs, only stopping when Lewis fingers work the product in circular movement into your hair.

"Can't wait for breakfast", you sheepishly declare as your stomach rumbles loudly, breaking of the quiet humming you have started since his hair are in your hair. "What's on the menu today, Lew?"

"I made blueberry muffins yesterday—"

"With chocolate on top?", you interrupt him, excitement glistening in your eyes as you drown in his rich brown ones.

"Yes, knew you'd want them like that."

Smile lines draw in the corner of his eyes, and dimples show, and maybe, just maybe, you fall in love with the man in front of you a little bit more — if that is even possible.

"Oh I love you", you hum, feeling the water spray on your head to wash the shampoo away. After, Lewis applies conditioner to the ends of the hair.

"I love you", he sincerely answers, and he truly means it, you can see it in his eyes and body language aswell as the feeling — the whole vibe of the room screams of love. You can't explain it but it is the truth. "And the little one", Lewis continues, hands leaving your scalp as he bends down to kiss your bump, taking away your breath with how loving he is.

Back in 2008 when you first met, Lewis wasn't delicate and even in the beginning of your relationship it lacked, resulting in you feeling not as appreciated as you should've been — the man had been too focused on his job and was wild in a sense that sometimes made you slightly uncomfortable. You in return couldn't communicate openly, scared he'd break your heart in thousand pieces, and let him get his ways. It took you a while for opening up, growing together and fall in love even more. But all the pain and stress paid off, now you can't imagine not walking those milestones of growth hand in hand.

"Might be a house-husband after 2026 and make you stay at home too. We could have more children if you want, and enjoy retirement together with our babies."

Its truly a dream, however you know that this is not going to be your future in a few years yet.

Shaking your head to the side, you signal him your answer. "No baby, you'll race your car to the top and gift our baby the eight championship trophy, alright? You can't just stop your passion, I won't allow it", you firmly share before taking on a much calmer tone . "But I'd like to not work for a while, take care of the babe and visit you whenever we're ready."

"I don't even know if I want to keep racing but you can't definitely stay home and maybe write that book you always wanted to."

"You have enough time to decide, don't pressure yourself, okay?", you hush, relaxing as he untangles the knots in your hair.

A low sigh vibrates in his chest. "Okay."

"How do you even know I write on a book?"

Lewis stiffles a snicker. "I'm your man, of course I know when you're up to something and you have said to the Lilys that you're working on a novel based on formula one. Hope it is inspired by me, pretty girl."

"And if it's inspired by the rising star Ollie Bearman?", you tease, making him laugh.

"Both of us know that the books about me or the technical stuff", he responds in confidence. "Have to say, you really do love that kid, huh?"

"He's a great kid, and so young", you stretch the 'o' of so long, "really want to pinch his cheeks whenever I see him."

"He is and you're such a mum to him."

"Ollie says I'm his grid mum which makes you his grid dad. Ain't that cute?", you tell him, closing your eyes as he rinses the conditioner off and puts body gel all over your body.

Your partner doesn't reply but you know how much he likes the brit, going as far as giving him tips for his f2 season. To you it's another confirmation that he's capable of having children.

Australia | the protective side of him

After ranting on and on of how you are still allowed to travel by plane, Lewis gave finally, even though he was visibly not alright with it, but he shut his mouth to hinder upsetting you. The pregnancy demands enough of you already and he doesn't want to be the person, who's taking away the fun. Also he's selfish, wants to have you and your unborn child by his side as long as possible.

But in his mind roams the thought of if you would've been better off in England with your families around to keep you company as he races against time, trying to be home as much as his job let him. He despites the many races on the calender that keep him away from his family that consists of you, his lovely girlfriend, the baby inside you and his first child Roscoe. Truly devastating.

Currently you gather everything you need for the day, stuffing a pack of tissues, lip balm and whatnot in your colourful totebag, Lewis had bought you in Mexico last year because he thought it was fitting and now you carried it everywhere you could. Somehow the colours blend quiet nicely with your outfit that considers of a fan made vintage styled shirt with his name, racing number and face on, and a pair of black pants. Between the space of your collarbone rests a necklace with the number 44, something quite possessive — revisiting the memory, Lewis can't help but bite his lips.

Two days before taking you to your first ever red carpet, the fia gala, a rather stupid man had flirted with you as you were waiting for Lewis to finish up business. You had worn a lovely dress, causing his eyes to follow your ever movement as you separated from him to get a drink (he wanted to rip that dress off you later on, too) and then that man came onto you, smirk etched on his face, trying to lure you in a conversation. In that moment Lewis felt incredible jealous and promised himself to mark you somehow — to which you unknowingly agreed as he gifted you a necklace with his number on it. To you the gesture was very lovely, a promise of being each others keeper, but to Lewis the necklace bought him satisfaction and calmed his nerves.

"Don't look at me like that, Lew", you laugh, catching his gaze in the mirror as you put on your earrings.

"Don't know what you mean, pretty girl", he husks, eyes fixed on your butt. Those pants show your curves off and if it wasn't for the time pressure, he'd spend the day in bed, loving you.

"You're a horny bastard", you mutter, catching him stare. "My ass looks great it them pants, no?"

"Sure thing", he mumbles, crossing the room to give you a hug from behind, chest pressing against your back, making you all mushy. He gently lifts your bump and you hum happily. It feels unbelievable good.

"You should do this everyday, baby."

A sigh tumbles in your boyfriend's throat as he sees the time of the clock — you're already behind schedule. "I should. 'M sorry to break it to you but we have to go now, pretty girl."

You moan. "Don't want to, this is so much better."

"I know", is all Lewis says, letting go of your bump before grabbing your chin to face him. You closed your eyes when his lips crash down on yours, the scent of his perfume filling your nostrils. The scent isn't too strong and is fairly new because you can't stomach the old one. "Love this perfume so much", you share after breaking the kiss, foreheads touching.

"Better be, you've chosen it, pretty girl. Let's go, hm?"

"Okay if you insist."

Arriving at the paddock, you're quick to lose Lewis to his engineer for a quick snack, you know the paddock club makes. The walking takes you just under ten minutes, but it's long enough to make you slightly sleepy again, a regular occurrence that started back in the early stages of working full time. The pregnancy only adding a bit to it.

As you stand waiting in line, you strike up a conversation with vcarbs reserve driver liam lawson, a funny guy, and let him vlog your conversation with the promise of him paying for your snack. The talk is all silly, your chest heaving strongly as he cracks another joke.

Though the vibe breaks when a man rushes besides you, shoulder bumbing against yours forcefully and sending your body stumbling into the driver, who's quick reflexes save you from a nasty fall.

Regulating your breath and removing your hand from Liam's arm, your anger comes through. "What a fucking wanker, next time I'll see him he'll fly straight in those bushes." You point to your left where a row of yellow blooming bushes sit in pots.

Liam's booming laugh attracts the attention of a few guests but neither of you care. It takes him a minute or two to stop, however the amusement is still painted on his face.

"Understandbly, call me if it happens, yeah?", he says, moving up to order himself a coffee and your snack. "Can I put this in my vlog?"

"Yes why not", you shrug, sole focus on the vegan treat in your hands.

"Let's go back to Mercedes, y/n, don't want Lewis to rip off my balls if he gets to know this situation."

You agree and guide him to your man's garage, greeting the buzzing flow of employees and fans alike. A smile adores you face as you make your way to Lewis, grasping Liam's arm in the process, causing some people to raise an eyebrow and the kiwi to blush slightly under their stares.

Sliding under Lewis arm to shuffle closely to him, he wordlessly accepts, listening to Bono's rant. He doesn't even notice the blonde kid next to you, way to absorbed into Bono's talk.

Eventually he does greet you, kissing you till a tiny moan escapes your mouth, and looks away from you, eyes falling on the Kiwi, who's side is pressed to yours — right besides him isn't any space left, just the wall and he guesses you must have pushed him into the space. It doesn't make him less dominating, arm pressing you further into his side to create more space between them, and he grabs the necklace to correct the way it lays, so the 44 can catch the attention if anyone is stupid enough to look at your tits in his presence.

The younger man doesn't react to his attics, but he's respectfully keeping his distance.

"Hey man, all good?", greets Lewis, handshake included.

"Nah yeah, fine."

Shallowing your bite of the treat, you bring up his vlogging. "And then he promised to buy me this in turn for vlogging our conversation. Maybe I should do that too, your fans would love it, Lew", you gush.

"We could, but we shouldn't. Want to keep you all for myself, pretty girl of mine", he mutters into your ear, hot breath fawning over the sensitive skin, "won't share what's mine."

Heat creeps up your neck and you're glad your hair isn't styled up today.

"You silly man", you giggle like a school girl, loving how he calls you his.

"I don't want to interrupt you by whatever you have going on but I wanted to tell you Lewis, that some cunt, shouldered her. Nothing happened, I catched her, but you should know", Liam rants, waiting for the older man's reaction while your wide eyes hang on your man's face, which morphs into a harden expression.

"Thanks Liam for telling", he grinds his teeth," because this one", he sends you a pointed look, "wouldn't have told me."

Swallowing, the kiwi presses a no worries mate and steps away, probably going back to his garage. Meanwhile you wait for Lewis' lecture and he doesn't disappoint. "You should've called, y/n, how often do I have to tell you that? If something happens, you instantly call me and I'll answer."

Before he can get really into it, you speak up. "Liam was there, wasn't he? He helped me and I'm not hurt, see?" You move your arms to let him inspect it. There's no sign of bruising.

"He was but next time you'll call, okay? I don't care if anyone is there to help you, you will call me, okay?", he voices his demand. "Don't want anything to happen to neither of you."

"Fine", you huff, face mushing into his muscular chest.

"And don't bring any boys here."

"Not fine", you groan, "he's like a younger brother. Fucking annoying but can't wait to send gifts for the baby and us."

Lewis stays silent, angling his body to hug you fully, and peeking your head.

The loudness of the race weekend suddenly quietness and all he hears is your relaxed breathing, that comforts him like nothing else can.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton

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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

Note

hey can you please do tom x hufflepuff reader hcs??

Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader headcanons.

(A/N: idk how this ended up being so long. i got carried away. i love tom. i love his complexity. i could write about him forever. anyways, enjoy:))

tom riddle and a hufflepuff reader would be damn near polar opposites, and there are a few reasons why i say this->

tom is a very reserved man, yet undoubtedly driven by an ambitious and power-hungry nature, always seeking dominance and control in every aspect of his life.

hufflepuffs, on the other hand, are known for their kindness, their loyalty, prioritizing the well-being of others over personal ambition.

tom riddle is the type of man who is not afraid to deceive others for personal gain, while hufflepuffs value fairness and honesty in each of their interactions.

not to mention how tom is emotionally restrained, rarely displaying vulnerability or empathy, while hufflepuffs are known for being emotionally open and expressing genuine care/understanding for others.

i believe tom would be rather annoyed by hufflepuffs, perhaps even put off by their loud, outgoing nature, but i also feel as though he would respect them more than other houses because they are known for being more by-the-book.

i believe this pairing would be WONDERFUL for him, and i’d imagine it’d go a little like this->

perhaps you and tom would be involuntarily paired up for an assignment, an unlikely collaboration that tom figured would be an easy mark for him.

originally, he’d find himself irritated by your constant cheerful and optimistic nature; finding it rather absurd that you weren’t at all fazed by his cold, cunning attitude.

there’d definitely be initial clashes between the two of you, disagreements of methods, but tom would find himself stunned as you met every one of his suggestions with a positive, passionate attitude, not daring to get discouraged or frustrated with him.

your unwavering optimism would be shocking to him. especially in the face of his calculated cynicism. it’d be then, that tom would be astonished by your dedication and genuine passion for learning, a rare quality to obtain.

his initial cold, guarded demeanour would slowly begin to fade.

tom would find himself beginning to pay more attention to you, his curiosity extending to outside the confines of the classroom.

he’d begin to wonder if your genuine kindness is truly authentic or merely a manipulation tactic, leading him to question the sincerity of your character.

which he’d only question because that’s the way his mind works.

he’d never known someone so open and genuine like you. he’d convince himself you had ulterior motives.

however, tom would quickly observe that your authenticity extended universally, and was not just directed at him.

your small acts of kindness and interactions with strangers became evident, and he’d witness your unwavering positivity even in the most challenging situations.

he’d notice how thoughtful you are, how you’d spend your free time maintaining the Owlery, ensuring it’s well-kept and sanitary.

he’d watch you from a distance as you continually brought the owls food and water, giving them attention and love which was something you did upon your own accord, without expecting any compensation.

it became clear to him that you did these things because you genuinely loved to do them, not because you wanted praise for it. and at this, tom was completely taken aback.

your radiant smile, capable of lighting up any room, would become a revelation to him, leaving him puzzled about how he initially overlooked this aspect of your character for all those years.

it’d be here that inner turmoil would begin to brew within tom as he’d have no choice but to acknowledge your ability to see the good within everything and everyone, and especially within him. something not many people are capable of.

as time passed, you couldn't help but notice a gradual softening in him.

during your collaborative sessions on the assignment, he became more receptive to your ideas, actively seeking your thoughts.

surprisingly, he started engaging in conversations beyond the project, asking about your day and exhibiting small changes in his demeanour that were entirely new to you.

tom was breaking, his walls slowly being chipped away by your infectious smile and enthusiasm.

the unexplainable shift in his perspective both intrigued and unsettled him, as you became the catalyst for awakening emotions he never believed he could feel.

he’d try to fight back, he’d try to get himself together, but it was useless. you were in his head, and there was no getting you out.

however, given the fact that tom struggles with showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, he’d try to be as subtle as possible with his interest in you. hoping that you’d eventually catch on.

perhaps he’d begin with small gestures, like gifting you a book on rare and beautiful magical creatures, saying that he noticed it in the library and thought of you, believing you might like it.

it would not go unnoticed by you just how considerate this was, and just how much he’d begun to take awareness of your interests.

you found yourself engrossed in the book, a sight that never failed to bring a subtle smile to tom’s face whenever he spotted you across the hall.

observing you immersed in the pages made him quietly content, often requiring a conscious effort on his part to break himself free from the captivation.

his brain would be screaming, “what the hell am i doing?” but he wouldn’t be able to deny just how much he loved seeing you enthralled by the gift.

the feeling was intoxicating, and wholly unfamiliar; he needed more. he needed to do more.

perhaps the next move he’d make would be to gift you a rare enchanted plant, after having noted your love for herbology.

he’d present the plant to you in a subtle way, saying that he’d found it while taking a stroll through the forest and thought you’d like it.

he’d go into details about its properties, its rarity and how to effectively take care of it, even though he knew you already knew all of this.

he knew you absolutely loved the fact that he cared for these plants just as much as you did. this was all part of his plan.

and of course, at this point, you’d have the hunch that he was into you; but being as perceptive and intuitive as you are, you’d know that pestering tom or trying to force him to admit feelings would be useless.

the man moves at his own pace.

so instead, you’d invite him to join you as you cleaned the Owlery, wanting to spend more time with him. the two of you would gradually become closer and closer, tom’s harsh demeanour fading away with the wind with each passing day.

and even still, tom hardly made any advances. tom hardly wanted to put himself in a vulnerable position. he wanted to be sure you wanted him before he ever revealed his intentions.

if he was touchy with you, he’d never insinuate it was because he’s into you. he’d kiss you on the cheek after walking you back to your dorm for the night, and then act like nothing ever happened in the morning.

and this might have annoyed some, but not you.

you understood that this is how tom was, and you admired him for it. you were entirely understanding. you wanted him to open up on his own terms, and you were willing to wait for him.

eventually, tom knew he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. he knew he needed to make you his. he knew he’d do fucking anything.

and this feeling would only multiply as he spotted you across the courtyard, speaking to a boy from your house.

your smile was glowing, your laugh was radiating, and the feeling this sight inspired inside tom’s heart could have been enough to ignite the entire castle into pure fucking flame.

whatever he was doing at this moment didn’t matter anymore, he only had one objective in mind.

making you his.

without waiting for you to finish your conversation, he’d interrupt, stating he needed to speak to you.

you’d smile, sensing his urgency, and follow him over to the far side of the courtyard, looking out at the breathtaking view of the faraway valleys and mountains.

as soon as tom was content with your seclusion, he’d cup the back of your head and crash his lips to yours, kissing you with enough fervour to make up for all the days and weeks and months he’d wished he’d have made a proper move.

pulling back, he’d meet your eyes. “i need you to be mine,” he’d whisper, as though the words scared him. “you’ve made me feel things i’ve never known possible, you’ve broken me down without effort. you are the most beautiful, genuine woman i’ve ever met, and i have been falling in love with you for months…i can’t hide it anymore, i need you…”

the words would be music to your ears, the joy unfathomable.

of course, you’d be his.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomriddle x reader #tomriddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #tomriddle smut #tomriddlesmut #slytherin boys #slytherinboys #slytherin #hufflepuff reader #hufflepuff #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle #tom riddle ai #mattheo #mattheosmut #mattheo riddle smut

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taeghi · 10 months

Note

CAN U PLEASE WRITE AN ENHYPEN MFM THREESOME!!! i love ur writing and i need this lol <3333

triad of hearts || (m)

⁂ pairing : boyfriend!jake x reader x boyfriend's bestfriend!heeseung

⁂ summary : what happens when your boyfriend finds out you have feelings for his best friend?

⁂ warnings : SMUT, pure filthy smut. minors dni!

⁂ word count : 5,600

⁂ taglist. : @whoslai @lufcxx @mimikittysblog @chiiiiiiiiis @weyukinluv @starggukies @prettykia @novacontreras @seuomo @luvitria @nshmrarki @seongslutt @bleepsnorp @enhaz1 @enhastolemyheart @luvleyk @heeverseblog

the sun cast a warm glow through the curtains of the cozy apartment where you and your boyfriend jake, and his best friend, heeseung found themselves spending a lazy saturday afternoon together. the atmosphere was relaxed and filled with the familiar sounds of laughter and easy conversation.

the living room was adorned with comfortable furniture and decorated with trinkets that showcased the shared memories of the trio’s adventures. the couch was strewn with colourful cushions, a soft throw blanket draped over its arm, inviting anyone who passed by to snuggle up. the coffee table adorned with a few empty cups and a board game they had played earlier, bore witness to the laughter that had echoed through the apartment.

you sat beside jake on your couch, your heart filled with so much affection for him. you cherished your deep connection and admired his unwavering support and understanding. your relationship was truly built on trust, love, and shared dreams. an you were grateful for every moment you spent together.

however, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of butterflies in your stomach whenever heeseung was around. his magnetic personality, quick wit and genuine kindness had captured your attention from the first time you met. heeseung was more than just jake’s best friend; he had become a great friend to you as well, someone who you could confide in and rely on.

as your trio lounged in the living room, you engaged in light banter, reminiscing about your college days and sharing stories of your recent lives. you found yourself stealing glances at heeseung, his infectious laughter resonating in your ears, and his warm smile lighting up the room. you admired his intelligence, passion for music and his ability to make everyone around him at ease.

jake, oblivious to your internal struggle, leaned back on the couch, one arm casually draped over your shoulder. he shared playful conversation with heeseung, their bond as best friends evident in their easy camaraderie. jake’s presence brought comfort and familiarity to you, and you cherished the way he made you feel safe and loved.

as the afternoon stretched on, your emotions became entangled internally. you yearned for the freedom to express your true feelings but you also felt an overwhelming sense of loyalty and commitment to jake. you grappled with the fear of disrupting the harmony of their friendship and the potential repercussions on your relationship.

your heart ached as you imagined the possibility of jeopardizing the beautiful connection you had with jake. you reminded yourself of the love you had built together, the countless moments of happiness you had experienced and the future you had envisioned. but deep down, you knew you were attracted to heeseung and you had to navigate these emotions delicately.

but, unbeknownst to you, jake had noticed the stolen glances and the subtle change in your demeanor whenever heeseung came over.

when heeseung left that night, jake, his playful nature ever present, couldn’t resist the urge to confront you about it. with a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips, he turns to you, your eyes meeting.

“y/n, is there anything that you wanna share that’s going on in the beautiful mind of yours?” jake asked you, his hand coming up to brush fallen hair out of your face. “anything about heeseung in particular?”

you could feel your cheeks flush slightly, caught off guard by jake’s perceptiveness. you felt a mixture of panic and relief, unsure of how to respond. your eyes darted towards your lap, not being able to look at jake anymore. “jake- no, nothing. you know we’re just friends.”

jake’s smile breaks out into a laugh as he listens to your reply. his eyes twinkle with amusement at your shy demeanor. “c’mon y/n, we’ve been together long enough for me to see how you act around someone you like. i can tell there’s something more there. and it’s perfectly okay. just be honest with me.”

your eyes widened in surprise, your heart pounding in your chest. you searched jake’s face for any evidence of anger or jealous, but found nothing but warmth and understanding.

you gulp, “you mean, you’re not upset?”

“no, not at all. i know you still love me, and you’ve developed feelings for heeseung as well. i trust you completely.” jake’s warm smile matches the rest of him. “besides, it’s not like i haven’t noticed the way hee looks at you, too.”

you feel your breath catch in your throat, eyes widening with a mix of surprise and relief. the weight of all your unspoken anxieties began to life, replaced with a newfound sense of openness and honesty.

“you’ve noticed?” you ask your boyfriend curiously.

jake nods, “of course. i may be your boyfriend but i’m not blind!”

you laugh at him, “so you’re really okay with it?”

with a shrug jake nods again, “yeah, but how’re we going to tell, heeseung?”

your apartment was filled with anticipation, the air thick with nervous excitement. you and jake sat side by side on the couch, their hands intertwined as you prepared to have a conversation that would change the dynamics of your relationship forever. you had spent countless hours discussing your desires and fears and now the time had come to share your intentions with heeseung.

your heart raced in your chest as you stole a glance at jake who met your gaze with a reassuring smile. your love had grown and evolved and you had come to a realization that you and jake wanted, or needed to have a threesome with heeseung. your hearts beat in unison, filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts, signaling heeseung’s arrival. jake rose from the couch and went to welcome his best friend, inviting him into the apartment heeseung was so familiar with. heeseung entered the room, a warm smile spreading across his face as he greeted his friends.

“hey, guys! what’s going on?”

jake motioned for heeseung to take a seat, his voice filled with mixture of nerves and determination. “we have something important to talk to you about, hee.”

heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed as his curiosity piqued. he settled into a chair that he’s sat in a million times before, his eyes darting between you and jake. “alright, what’s up?”

you take a deep breath, summoning all of your courage possible. you looked into heeseung’s eyes, your voice gentle as you speak. “heeseung– i see the way you look at me.” you notice the hard gulp heeseung takes as his eyes widened, “and i know you must see the way i look at you two, so. uh, we were just wondering if uh, uh,”

“if you’d be willing to have a threesome.” jake finishes for you, almost nonchalantly.

heeseung instantly starts laughing when jake finishes the sentence. and it makes you want to be sucked back into your shared couch you love so much. “are you guys serious?” when you and jake both nod heeseung seems to calm down, “i mean, sure why not?”

jake and you exchange a look of excitement, anticipation filling both of you. “really?” you ask your boyfriend’s best friend.

“yeah, but when?” heeseung shrugs, sitting back comfortably into his chair.

“uh, now?” you suggest, and you can’t possibly miss the way heeseung and jake look at each other, being able to read each other’s minds so easily after being friends for half of their lifetime.

instantly, heeseung and jake are pulling you to your shared bedroom. their expressions filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, like they had planned this moment together.

jake provided reassurance, his eyes filled with love and deep understanding. your heart raced with anticipation and vulnerability. heeseung followed closely, his presence offering an additional layer of comfort and support. his eyes met yours, conveying a mix of warmth and friendship, assuring her that it was all going to be okay.

as you entered the bedroom, jake left your side to light the few candles you had in your bedroom. the soft glow casting flickering shadows across the room, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and romance. your bed was adorned with plush pillows and silky sheets, inviting her to sink into its embrace as heeseung pushed you down onto the bed.

“should we uh, talk about what’s allowed, or something?” heeseung speaks, his eyes glancing up from you to jake. jake shrugs and looks at you to answer.

“i trust you, both. anything’s okay. if any of us want to stop then we say red, right?” you look at jake with a comforting smile. heeseung nods, agreeing with the one term you’ve come up with.

with sense of reverence, jake and heeseung sit next to you on the bed. their fingers starting to caress your shoulders. their touch is both tender and respectful, so different than how it will be again in such a short span of minutes.

jake’s first to grab your face and pull you into a kiss, grabbing the hem of your crop top and lifting it up over your breasts. your bra is leaving your breasts from being completely exposed. jake doesn’t hesitate to massage your right breast with his hand.

you glance over at heeseung, who’s watching your boyfriend grope your tit and he seems hesitant.

“it’s okay, seungie, you can touch me, ya know.” you tell him, and his eyes glance up from your breast to your face, a sheepish smile on his face when he realizes he was holding himself back for no reason.

when heeseung leans forward, pulling your bra cup down to expose your nipple, he doesn’t hesitate anymore and sucks your nipple into his mouth. jake is quick with your other bra cup, pulling it down to expose both of your breasts now. jake’s fingers squeeze your nipple, making you moan out in pleasure already.

heeseung stands up just as jake’s right hand starts to trail down your body, cupping you over your shorts. jake’s mouth attaches itself to your nipple, sucking it into his mouth sharply. heeseung quickly gathers himself into the situation as his hand comes up to circulate your throat. heeseung kisses the top of your nose, as if saying “this is it” before delving his mouth onto yours. his mouth on yours is so different than how jake’s feels. but you love it.

as heeseung’s tongue explores your mouth for the first, jake’s hand slips into your shorts, you hear him chuckle when he feels how wet you are. jake’s fingers start to massage your clit into circles, making you moan into heeseung’s mouth.

heeseung pulls away from your mouth and throat, letting you make eye contact with your boyfriend. jake’s fingers are pressing into your clit harder, making you moan out to him, letting him know that he’s making you feel so good already. you feel heeseung start to unclasp your bra from behind you, slipping it off of your shoulders with your shirt.

jake smashes his lips onto yours, both of your lips forming smiles as you kiss. your hands trail down jake’s lean body, feeling the hints of his abs under his shirt as you kiss.

when jake pulls away from your face, heeseung is quick to grab your jaw, making you turn away from jake. heeseung’s eyes glance down your bare body, “you look so fucking good.” you smile up at him at his compliment before he’s pulling you back into another kiss. his tongue roams your mouth, but it doesn’t take away from jake’s tongue swiping at your nipple again.

heeseung gives you one last quick kiss before he’s pulling away and going towards his jean button. jake presses a kiss into your temple as he stands away from you as well, his hands roaming your chest as he does, not being able to stay away from you before he trails down to your panties again. jake’s hand finds its pace as heeseung’s leading your hand to his cock.

when your hand reaches his cock you gasp slightly, not expecting it to be so long. its a lot different from jake’s. its thinner, and paler and definitely longer. and the red tip is pulling you in, wanting to quickly put it in your mouth. your hand starts jerking heeseung’s cock slowly, almost teasing him.

heeseung’s hand finds it place back on your throat, adding pressure on it to make your head be thrown back onto your shoulders as you still sit up on the end of your bed. jake’s lips find yours as you can look up at him again as he stands beside you, his fingers relentless as they circle your clit.

“so fucking sexy,” you hear heeseung mumble out into the room, barely above a whisper as his words blend with your moans leading into jake’s mouth. jake’s tongue darts across your lips, wanting access into your mouth, which you grant him.

heeseung suddenly pulls onto your necklace, pulling you away from jake to look at him. a mischievous smirk plays on his lips and it only intrigues you more into what this night has to offer.

heeseung’s hands grab your shoulders and pull you so you’re on all fours, your face eye level with ihs hard, pretty cock. you feel jake’s hands on your back, trailing down and hooking onto your shorts. your boyfriend easily takes off your shorts, leaving you in only your panties. jake’s hand smooth your ass before he delves into your pussy, eating it out from behind.

you’ve always loved jake’s tongue. it never took long for you to cum on jake’s tongue since he was so fucking good with it. he was always able to reach every spot of your pussy that would be able to make you feel so good. you moan out a curse with your boyfriend’s name, loving the way his tongue easily finds and circles your clit.

heeseung’s hands are on your face as soon as jake’s tongue enters your pussy, guiding your mouth to his hard cock. his cock is almost instantly in your mouth. heeseung’s hands landing in your hair as you try to take the most of him at once, wanting so badly to please your boyfriend’s best friend.

your moaning from jake’s tongue switching from fucking deep inside of you to swiveling around your enlarged clit. you can feel cold air on your pussy from how sloppy jake is making your pussy. he’s practically making out with it. your moans only further please heeseung as his dick drives further down your throat. your tongue doing circles around his member before sucking in your cheeks around his cock.

“oh my god, yes.” heeseung moans out, his head falling back onto his shoulders as you bob your head up and down his hard dick. “that feels so fucking good.” heeseung’s hands stay in your hair, helping you fuck his dick into your mouth.

you hear jake behind you taking off his jeans, not wanting his tongue to come off from your pussy. “you taste to fucking good too, baby. always.” you hear jake mumble and you imagine just how wet and glossy his lips must look right now, mixed with his spit and your juices.

jake’s hand slaps your ass and then grabs it, making you groan against heeseung’s cock. then his hands grab the inner part of your thighs, flipping you over onto your back and off of heeseung dick.

jake and heeseung start to undress themselves, and you struggle to find where to look. your boyfriend’s body is athletic and tan, meanwhile his best friend’s is pale and lean. both of them are beautiful and you can’t believe what’ about to happen.

“do you want to go first, seungie?” jake asks heeseung with a smirk.

heeseung glances at you and when he meets your desperate look he agrees. jake and heeseung switch spots and heeseung pushes your legs up. he’s more rough with you than jakes and you love it. heeseung puts one of his knees beside your body on the bed and the other remains on the floor as he stands. jake crawls onto the bed so he’s sitting beside your head, his hard dick hanging around your face.

“condom?” heeseung glances up at you both as he’s about to put his dick inside of you.

“baby?” jake glances down at you for an answer.

“it’s fine, i wanna feel you raw.” you tell heeseung, trying not to laugh at heeseung’s face when you reply. jaeke only laughs and leans over your face to peck your lips.

heeseung doesn’t hesitate to slip his cock into your wet pussy, groaning as your walls begin to grip his cock. you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips when heeseung lifts one of your legs onto his shoulder, his hands holding you down onto the mattress on your ribs. his cock quickly finds a drilling pace, and fucking you roughly.

jake’s hand circulates your throat, successfully blocking your oxygen as heeseung quickly pounds into you. his cock even feels different as he slides in and out of you. it curves less than jake’s does, but it’s veins make sure to rub perfectly against your walls.

you keep eye contact with jake as his best friend fucks you and his hands around your neck.

heeseung’s fingers quickly enter your opened mouth, collecting your saliva before his fingers are emeting your clit and roughly circling it like jake was doing earlier.

“oh my god, hee!” you cry out, eyes switching back and forth from jake and heeseung.

“yeah? does his cock feel good, y/n?” jake’s voice is deep as he asks you, fingers tightening around your throat as you try to nod. “like feeling another man’s cock deep inside of you?” his fingers completely let go for you to speak verbally now.

“y-yes, jake, feels so good.” your voice is shaky and out of breath.

jake leans down and kisses you while heeseung’s pace does not let up. his fingers practically sliding around your pussy as his cock continues to pound into you from and upwards angle.

one of jake’s hands is squeezing and tweaking your nipple, while the other one is keeping your head up so you can acth heeseung fuck into you. you’re trying to not let your eyes keep rolling into the back of your head as heeseung starts hitting your g spot everytime he pushes into your wet walls.

heeseung drops your leg, letting it encircle his waist now. at the movement, jake decides to press the tip of his cock against your lips, waiting for you to open your mouth. when his dick enters your mouth he doesn’t hold back from the groan he releases. “fuck, yes.” your boyfriend's voice is guttural as you suck your cheeks in to surround his cock.

“i want you in my pussy too, jake.” you look up at him through your lashes, your neck moving to wet your boyfriends dick. at the mention, heeseung pulls out of you, and jake follows so they’re switching positions.

jake’s lifting your leg up with his hand, pushing it so your knee is towards you and he so so easily slips his dick inside of you. heeseung’s at your head, kissing your forehead softly, so much different than how he was pounding into you a second ago.

“did so well for me already, baby.” heeseung’s whispering into your hair, making you moan out at his words and jake’s dick finding your g spot instantly. jake’s cock curves more than heeseungs, and he knows your body so well already that your g spot easily findable.

jake’s thumb starts rubbing your clit as fast as he’s pushing in and out of you. heeseung’s switching from watching your boyfriend fuck you to watching your face contort up into pleasure. heeseung’s hand wraps around your throat again as he nods at you, understanding how good you must be feelings.

“you look so fucking good, our good girl.” heeseung speaks to you, his voice raspy and it turns you on more.

“oh god, yes!” you cry out, your back arching from the pleasure, “don’t stop! don’t stop!” it’s hard to speak with heeseung’s hand wrapped around your throat but you don’t mind, just needing to tell them to not sotp as the pleasure was building in your stomach.

you hear jake moaning out softly as he fucks into you at a steady pace now, his thumb not stopping on your clit either. “god, your pussy’s so tight, baby, yes.” his words make you clench around him more as they go straight to the coil in your stomach. you love the attention from both sets of eyes, both of them wanting to make you feel good, both of them not leaving your side as the pleasure continues to build and build.

jake drops your leg, his hand reaching for your breast again, knowing how you love your tits played with during sex. heeseung’s hand leaves your throat and starts to guide his dick into your mouth gently, wanting you to be prepared for the incision. as his dick enters your mouth he lets out a quiet, deep groan. a groan that you would’ve missed if you weren’t paying such close attention to him.

you let heeseung start to fuck his dick into your mouth at his own pace. so now jake and heeseung are using both of your holes, pounding into you at the same time. jake’s grip is on your rib cage as he starts pulling youd own to meet his thrusts.

“oh my god, baby.” jake’s eyes roll the back of his head as he watches you get your mouth fucked by his best friend.

heeseung pulls his cock out of your mouth, loving the way a string of your saliva and his precum connect his cock to your lips before his breaks. jake pulls his dick out of your hole completely. you watch lazily as he bends down and starts to tongue fuck your pussy again. you moan out his name at the realization that he’s eating your juices and his and heeseung’s precums all together.

“just like that,” you let out tiredly, the pleasure making your eyes roll to the back of your head again. you feel heeseung push your hair out of your face and then he’s mocking jake’s position earlier and holding your head up so you can watch your mouth messily eat you out.

you see jake’s tongue swipe in and out of your folds and his mouth, his eyes closing as he fully concentrates on making you feel good. “that’s it baby, tell jakey how good he makes you feel.” heeseung speaks into your ear.

“feels- feels so fucking good, jake. please.” you tell him desperately, moving your hips against his face now.

heeseung presses kisses into your neck and presses lazily. and jake responds with a deep groan against your heat, making you jut your hips into his mouth at the vibration.

jake stands up, setting the pace for heeseung to stand up again, and then both of them are re-entering your holes. they find a pace quickly which you allow them too as you lay there, pleasure taking over your body and mind.

your shared bedroom is full of swears, moans and groans as the three of you are being taken over by the pleasure you’re all giving and receiving. the room smells of sex and sweat and neither of you feel as if you're even close to being done. you see jake cover his mouth with his hand, a sign that he’s close but trying to put off. and heeseung’s eyes are completely closed as he continues to fuck his hard dick into your mouth. he loves the way you just know to circle your tongue around his tip every time he stalls at the back of your throat.

heeseung pulls out, giving you some time to breathe as jake continues to thrust his cock into you. you don’t notice him looking around your room, but feel him get off the bed. “hey, what’s this?” heeseung asks and jake stops fucking into you. you swallow harshly before turning to look at heeseung who’s now holding your vibrator that’s plugged into the wall.

jake breathlessly lets out a laugh as he glances from heeseung to you, “do you want the vibrator, baby?” you nod in response, hearing heeseung’s laugh match jake’s.

“how about you show me how you like to use it then?” heeseung asks into your ear. he’s holding your vibrator over your body, letting you grab it from him.

as you turn on the vibrator, the noise fills the bedroom. jake slips out of your pussy and you shiver at the feelings of your walls clamping over nothing. heeseung and jake switch spots again. now your boyfriend is at your head and his best friend is in between your legs.

when you let the vibrator hit your clit, a loud moan escapes your mouth from sensitivity. your whole body arches forward, and it’s jake grabbing your hair that pulls you back so you’re flat against the mattress. you hear both of them laugh at your reaction, but you feel too good to say anything.

you feel heeseung start to push his dick into your pussy again, along with the vibrator pressing straight onto your clit. jake leans down, giving you a deep kiss as he jerks his cock off with a free hand.

“oh-oh my god,’ is all you can say over and over and over again as heeseung starts to push short and deep thrusts into your pussy with his cock. jake’s other hand massages your tits again.

“fuck, you look beautiful, right now.” heeseung tells you, his hands holding onto the underneath of your thighs for support as he fucks into you. the vibrator threatening to make you cum at any second now.

“feels, so- so good,” you repeat yourself and can only see jake’s sly smirk as he looks down over you.

“yeah?” jake speaks to you, “my baby feels good with seungie’s dick inside of her?” when you nod jake presses a kiss into your head, “yeah? almost like you’re a slut.” your walls clench around heeseung’s cock and it makes him jerk forward harder into you, a straight chain of events. “say you’re our slut.”

you have to gulp down the salvia in your mouth before you can speak, “i’m your guys’ slut.”

heeseung groans at how obedient you are, your juices pooling out and around the bed sheets now.

“then if you’re our slut you can take both of us, right? i know you want both of us in your tight little pussy.”

“oh god, jake!” you cry out, your hand coming to clasp onto jake’s arm that’s holding him up over you. “yes! i want it!”

“heeseung, stop.” jake commands the other man, which he immediately does. you take the time to glance at heeseung’s face. his black hair is pushed out of his face, and there’s sweat dripping down his forehead. his pupils are dilated from pure pleasure. heeseung slips out of you as jake begins to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” jake grabs your sides and helps pull you off of your back and so now you’re sitting atop him, his cock lazily pressing against your pussy. “you really wanna take me and seungie?”

“yes, please.” you start grinding down onto his cock, “want it so bad.”

jake throws his head back at your response and groans.

“okay, baby, sit back on my cock for me.” you lift yourself like jake says, and sit down again with his cock positioned into you. you both groan as his cock slides deep up inside of you. he fucks into your slowly for only a few thrusts, wanting you to get comfortable with the position. “okay, hee, c-come here.” jake stammers as he feels your walls clench around him at the thought that heeseung will also be inside of you.

you feel heeseung crawl behind you, and you gasp for a moment when you feel his cock start to push beside jakes.

“it’s okay, y/n.” heeseung whispers from behind you, pressing a kiss into our shoulder, “remember our safe word?” when you nod heeseung presses a kiss into your neck and biting, making sure to lick the spot after to make you shiver.

heeseung starts to push more and more into you, the stretch is a lot, even though both boys are doing their best to distract you. jake’s got his thumb pressing soft circles into your clit, and heeseungs biting and licking every spot possible on your neck and shoulder.

with a final pop into your pussy, heeseung enters and it makes the three of you hiss together. the two of them continue trying to distract you until you’re nodding and telling them to move.

they move slowly at first, together. their dicks rubbing against the others and your wet walls. it feels so dirty and sloppy but you love it. everytime they push in a loud wet squelch comes from your pussy, showing just how wet your pussy is. jake’s hand leaves your clit and instead massage and tweak both of your nipples, making you throw your head back onto heeseung’s shoulder. but jake’s previous hand on your clit is replaced by heeseung, and then you’re truly being stimulated everywhere.

you start to meet their thrusts, wanting so badly to finally come undone, together with them.

it only takes a few more thrusts from the three of you as one to get you to come. your words being mixed with moans and their names as you’re telling them to not stop. the orgasm is hard when it hits you from being built up so many times to just not cum. from so long of taking each of their dicks and tongues the orgasm finally snaps and it’s making you feel so fucking good wrapped between your two favourite people.

your orgasm makes your walls tighten and get even more wet, which triggers heeseung’s and jake’s orgasms as well. you feel both of their dicks twitch against each other in your pussy as he slowly thrust into you and then their cum as well. it’s so dirty as the three of your cums mix together in your pussy walls, but it only turns you all on more.

when they stop moving, you finally flop over, both of their dicks slipping out of you and making you cringe at how empty you feel. but the tiredness soon takes over and you can’t do anything about it. you feel both of them moving around on the bed. and you hear them whispering and moving around the bedroom. you feel kisses on your shoulder, and then warmth of a blanket being pulled over your body. you’re too tired to physically smile, but you’re definitely smiling in your head before sleep consumes you from being so mentally and physically exhausted.

the soft morning light filtered through the curtains, gently casting a warm glow over the bedroom where you lay nestled between jake and heeseung. as you slowly stirred awake, you felt a comforting sense of love and security enveloping her.

and some pain from the night before.

you blinked your eyes open, the events of the previous night flooding your mind. you glance at jake, his peaceful face inches away from your own, and then at heeseung who was still gently sleeping beside you. a smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you realized the feelings you had all explored together the night before.

jake stirred as he felt your gaze on him. his eyes met hers with a sleepy and loving smile on his lips that you love so much. “good morning, pretty.” his voice is raspy when he speaks.

“morning, baby.”

heeseung began to stir, his eyes fluttering open as he adjusted to the new morning light. he met your gaze and a soft smile spread across his own face.

“morning guys, how are you feeling?”

“sore, but happy.” you speak truthfully and laugh when both of them whine and apologize for your pain.

jake reached out, intertwining his fingers with yours, “i had a lot of fun last night guys, i’m glad we did it.”

“me too,” you reply instantly and both of you turn to heeseung.

heeseung chuckles, “yeah, me too.” he reaches over and pushes your fallen hair out of your face.

“would you guys want to do it again?” jake asks you both, almost shy.

heeseung nods and then turns to you, “yeah i would,” you reply honestly, “but not right now because i am still so so tired.”

both of them lean in and kiss your checks, all of you giggling together with a promise of a next time, and next time after that, and a next, next time after that.

but for now, you all huddled in close, forming a warm, cuddle of warmth and pure affection. in that moment, all of you were aligned, and you all shared something special. you all felt a sense of peace and contentment while you allowed yourselves to drift back to sleep, your bodies intertwined and hearts connected. the soft rhythm of your breathing even out together.

as you surrendered to the embrace of peaceful sleep, you found solace in the knowledge that you were surrounded by love, acceptance and a shared commitment to one another’s happiness. and together, the three of you would continue to explore your relationship, whether your actions from the night before complicated it or not. together, you will allow yourself to bloom and grow, caring for each other with understanding, and cherishing every moment of your special connection with your boyfriend and his best friend.

@ taeghi, 2023. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

#smut #enhypen #enhypen smut #jake smut #heeseung smut #jake #heeseung

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dawndelion-winery · 2 years

Text

In Your Way

Getting them to notice you

Ft. Arlecchino, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone

Arlecchino:

Naturally, to run an orphanage, one must have staff to care for the orphans

You seemed enthusiastic enough about the job, though whether it was an actual passion for helping the children or for the generous salary, she'd never truly know

Still, your actions were sincere enough

She did tell you to report to her regularly, but she hadn't expected you to drop by so often

Each time, you had a thorough report of the children's progress and growth, along with your personal suggestions on what they might need

And every time, she'd approve

She sometimes finds herself musing if she'd ever had someone watch over her like that, brushing away the thought with a huff as she returns to her work

What she didn't know was that a strong motivator for your frequent reports was to see her

Your diligent, skillful lord harbinger who entrusted so much to you

You had hoped doing a good job would earn her praise, or at least make you an irreplaceable subordinate

But she had seldom commented on it, the most you'd gotten out of her being a "Not bad, keep it up"

Still, it was enough for your throbbing heart for her to find you reliable, and so you continued to do your best

And then she decided to take a look at your work for herself

She was shocked to find the children beaming at her, and she quickly found she had you to thank for that, since you'd attributed so much of what you had done for them to her benevolence

Indeed, it was the sort of loyalty necessary to raise soldiers

For the first time, she smiled at you. And your heart stopped

"I look forward to more of your good work, my faithful y/n."

Capitano:

Who doesn't love a gentleman?

He'd stepped in when a higher ranked agent was picking on you and you'd been smitten since

You still fondly reminisce about the way he held his hand for you to take, encouraging you to get stronger

You also recall rising through the ranks, eager to prove him right in having faith in you and finally meeting him again after so long

It made your heart flutter when it turned out he did remember you

"Weren't you that recruit I gave a little nudge to some time back? Mm, it seems I was right about you. Now how else will you prove your worth to me?"

You've never seen his face, but fr the sound of his voice, you swore he was smiling at you with pride

He was the one - the one you'd follow into the heat of an uncertain battle with complete faith because that was the sort of strength and charisma he carried himself with

And oh what a sight he was when he fought, as beautiful as he was ruthless, and graceful as he was strong

How many of the harbingers would hype their soldiers with such confidence? A promise to win?

Perhaps it was that confidence in him that led to you taking that bolt of electro for him

"Have I proven my worth, lord harbinger?"

"Not until you return a hero you haven't. And you will, because I promised."

Dottore:

It wasn't uncommon for students at the academia to be passionate when presenting their topic of research to the class

But there was something about him that stood out from the others even if you couldn't pinpoint it

It could've just been the fact that his ideas were,,,less than humane yet he spoke of them so clinically as though it hardly mattered

But you liked to think it was the way his eyes, already a startling crimson, seemed to light up as he spoke of his thesis

More than the average student's curious experimentation, he was ambitious unlike any other, claiming that with time and resources, he'd be able to create a god

Insane as it sounded, the more you listened, the more you found yourself believing he could

And so began your puppy love, trailing after him as you sang his praises

He had tried shooing you off, thinking this was some prank

But when the people who antagonised him for being a freak began to target you for associating with him, he soon realised that wasn't the case

Insufferable as you were to keep clinging to him, he found himself intrigued by your strange 'loyalty' - if he could call it that

It started with him letting you sit around the lab as he worked so you wouldn't be picked on the moment he shut the door on you

Then he started sending you out on errands for him, surprising you with the trust he was giving you (little as it was)

As you spent more time with him, you grew to enjoy each other's company, and you had finally grown out of your one sided pining

You realised how fruitless it would be, to long for someone who had already devoted himself to his dreams

But hope was a funny thing, and as you prepared to bid him farewell and best of luck on his journey, his hands found yours first

"C'mon then, assistant. I've plenty more to do, and if this forsaken palace of fools won't give me what I need, we'll have to take it ourselves."

Perhaps you had become close after all, if he was insistent on bringing you with him

Pantalone:

There is nothing bankers are better at than rolling money until they're rolling in it

As such, they naturally require substantial collateral for and equally substantial loan

Which was why he was quick to decline you a loan for your business venture despite your insistence that you'd succeed

"As well thought out as you make it out to be, your proposal is simply too outlandish for us to gamble on. Be a dear and stop giving my staff a hard time, they've seen you often enough this past week."

Well, if the Northland Bank wouldn't give you a loan, you'd get the bank himself to give you money

You'd put far too much time and effort into the hopes of achieving this little business venture of yours and you just knew it'd be a success if you could only have a few months to get it going

So what other choice did you have than to attempt to seduce the ninth harbinger and have him fund you

You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you'd thought he'd at least humour you a little instead of having the guards see you out

But you'd be damned if you gave up there

Thus came the game of cat and mouse and for once, Pantalone was the one who had to hide

It rather irked him and so he caved, if only to have you stop tracking him down

And you being the kin soul you are offered to return his investment by making him a shareholder<3

"I'll play along then. But mind you, if you lose this little game and fail to pay me back, I'll simply own you in exchange."

A terrible gamble but one you took nonetheless, much to his surprise, since he'd hoped the situation would scare you into leaving him alone

Even moreso when you did succeed and slapped his money back at him

"Now about that loan so I can expand-"

"It's still a no."

"What?"

"Our current arrangement works just fine, no?" he said, slipping you a blank cheque. "Consider this...a personal investment."

Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @euphoric-author @paradise-creator @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @serenenation @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @howlantic @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating

Obligatory @cxlrosii and @i23kazu , my beloved Dottore kisser and Capitano kisser

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #arlecchino #capitano #dottore #pantalone #arlecchino x reader #capitano x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #genshin arlecchino #genshin capitano #genshin dottore #genshin pantalone #winery specials

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themotherofblood · 1 year

Note

Dear author, you don't know how happy I am to see that your ad requests are open. That said can I get an extremely romantic, overwhelming, passionate and rough smut with Daemon x Martell fem reader inspired by the song "Ang laga de", please?

you have no fucking idea how happy this ask made me, like kicking my legs and smiling like a lunatic happy. I have envisioned this very smut scene at least a hundred times. It is a little dark, both Daemon and Y/N are kinda crazy in this. Madly in love, literally

masterlist

smut, talks of murder, blood, loss of virginity, oral (f), more blood, fingering and evil daemon being a softie.

Daemon Targaryen x fem!Martell Reader

“I refuse to be your mistress!”

That is the last thing you had said to your beloved dragon prince.

The Dornish were said to be a shameless lot regardless, and here you fell for a married man.

The Rhoynish gods were laughing at your stupidity, there wasn’t even a lure placed for you to catch. You simply fell for him, hard.

What had been a month long endeavour to see your younger sister wed a distant Targaryen cousin. Turned to your own nightmare. You had never craved for something as much as you had Daemon Targaryen. His flirtatious deeds, bringing your flowers and trinkets had bouncing like a little girl. It was frustrating, you had tried courting before and yet it felt flat, you truly believed that men simply were not capable of pleasing you. Until he came along, him and that stupid red dragon that made you want Daemon even more

He became the thing you wanted to cry to the gods about, the sweets yours parents wouldn’t let you have or that fine silk dress that was far too big for you to wear. His niece Rhaenyra, also egged this fire further and not once had either of them mentioned that he was married! It was painful, really fucking painful, learning that his loyalty was sworn to another.

You’d spent nights unable to sleep on foreign beds, awake in the royal gardens of the Red Keep, where the prince kept you company till the sun graced the horizon and you had succumbed to slumber with your head in his lap. There was serenity, shared comfort that dwelled between the two of you. You had heard stories, counted first hand of the nights he’d spend in brothels with his whores. You didn’t care, you wanted him.

“I refuse to be your mistress.”

It was a lie, you would happily become his salacious secret should he have asked a second time. There was no dignity, no obligations or customs, to you there was just him and the one truth that boiled your blood hot. You had already given him a piece of you heart as you boarded the ship to return home. You wanted him to ask again, to whisk you away on his dragon and yet he allowed you the curtesy to return home with your honour intact.

“If there is anything the crown can provide for Dorne, do not hesitate.” Viserys coughed his words out as he presented his farewells to you in a crowded court

“Should I ask, you wouldn’t be able to provide it your grace.” You wandered, keeping your head low in respect for the man and your wants

“What is it that a king cannot provide,” Otto Hightower questioned, taking offence to your wording.

“Daemon Targaryen.” You stated, gasps echoed across the throne room. You had committed a crime, stained your honour for good. You didn’t care nor did you give Daemon a last look before boarding your ship.

Honour- what was it compared to feel of being in his arms? What was devotion if not sound of his voice relaying Valyrian poetry? What was love, if not your heart that drowned in his blood?

What was love- if not the letter of his wife’s untimely injury?

Rhea Royce, bedridden of her paralysis, remained frozen and useless to her husband.

There was much that Daemon Targaryen was capable of, much that you were capable of. The sheer fire that burned your passions would have soaked your own hands in Rhae Royce’s blood.

She didn’t love him.

You did.

Then came your brother, his stupid alliance and vengeance against the Targaryen’s was costing you your sanity, you had pleaded with him for weeks and then you succumbed to the insanity that perhaps there was venom in your heart for whoever kept you from your dragon prince.

It festered for days, the mirrors in your room painted with clay. Refusing to look at yourself until he laid eyes upon you as his wife.

You had sat at supper with your brother, his disappointment was clear. You wanted to lay with the enemy, if loving Daemon was treachery then you would happily lay your hands forwards retribution. There should have been sorrow, a searing burn of guilt- he was your family, your blood. You shared a cradle and a mother; nothing more. Your sweet brother, for now was thorn digging into your palm as you admired the flourishing bud of devotion. He had to be plucked out.

The forbidden subject was brought up once more, there wasn’t a request in sight but a demand from his brazen sister.

“Let me be his, let him have me.” A prayer, Qoren grew irate over your insolent behaviour.

He loved you dearly, his sweet sister who was blinded by the rage of love. He wouldn't allow it, claiming to chain you to your chamber if you made an attempt to contact him. You said nothing as you nibbled on your food, spatters of blood dripped onto your pie. You could feel your throat constricting and yet it was nothing compared to the agony you had been in without Daemon.

Qoren coughed profusely, blood dripping from his nose as his eyes widened at your betrayal. In truth he had betrayed you first, choosing to keep you away from the one thing you had ever truly wanted. You could taste the copper on your lips, corners of your eyes welling with tears as you ripped the small pendant from your neck; even with the antidote to the poison in your system. The despair never stopped.

An unpleasant event truly, yet what was anyone to do, Qoren had no heirs and your blood-bled mustard. In the true picture of your house’s words, you remained unbent; raging on in sheer will for one man.

Even tainted in blood, you wore white for him; to remain pure, awaiting him to paint you in the colours of his house

He will return for me, for my love

There was no assurance that he would fly to you, no evidence that Rhae Royce’s accident wasn’t a mere coincidence; yet your arrogance had you rubbing rose oil onto your skin.

My dragon would return to me, you were sure of it.

For days the men sworn to the Martells had sighted the skies day and night, all in hopes of seeing a red dragon looming over the palace. The very ladies that had dressed you since you were a child urged for you to see reason, men often toyed with naive noble ladies for their amusement. He hadn't toyed with you, you were his cherished doll, one he stole because he simply could.

“Princess,” A young squire heaved, a folded parchment in between his fingers. Sealed with a three-headed dragon.

Your wish was my command princess.

Even without a name, the curls on his lettering were indicative enough an answer for you.

He had indeed harmed Rhea Royce for you, just as you had killed your brother Qoren for him. In your heart, you knew he would find you soon; just as your orders for exotic flowers and wines were distributed to merchants, people in your household began to whisper of your delusions.

Then the black skies graced your hopes, almost taunting all those who questioned your faith in him. The moon, full as is lit the ocean in its milky glow, from those very black skies came your faith. Loud whistles of a dragon echoed through Old Palace. Yet another young squire mumbled out in laboured breaths.

You smiled to yourself as your ladies sat in silent shock, their efforts in dressing you in white and gold would bear fruit tonight. Their feet sprung to action, the jangles from their anklets were muffled in your ears, and you just smiled to yourself. You hiked you skirts up as you skipped down the corridor, the jangles on your gold anklets seemed to have been cursing everybody who questioned you.

The doors to the Old Palace opened as Daemon Targaryen rode in on horseback, and along with him came a small entourage. He sat tall atop his horse, finally a Targaryen worthy of conquering Dorne. You were sure your ancestors were screaming bloody murder, shunning you and wishing you ill will, and yet as you stood at the enterance of the Old Palace, your father’s name meant nothing infront of the man you loved.

“In a bustling court you asked for me, may all see; I have arrived.” Daemon proclaimed as he stood with his arms out. You feet hurried down the steps, hoping to grace him with an eternal embrace and yet he raised his hand to stop you dead in your tracks

“I applaud you, for a devotion even I was unknown to. You stripped yourself bare of your honour and dignity for a relationship you had no right over.” He retorted, you couldn’t understand was her perturbed? Is that what he was here for, to lecture you?

“What reasoning do you have for this madness?”

“Love.” You stated, even the word in itself felt lacking for the true tempest that swirled in your environs. It had to be bigger, all consuming.

“The one revolts against the mightiest of dragons, that love,” You walked towards him “The one that fearlessly professes her devotion at court, that love.”

“When she sees her beloved and forgets her family, that love.” You eyes glossed over, consuming your skin in wild fire, begging him to claim you already

His hands harshly grasped your forearms, shaking sense into your as he spoke.

“The Faith and my brother’s court will never see you as one of theirs,” He warned.

“I accept.” You smiled.

“Marrying me would have you walking on fire!” He reasoned, hoping you would back away; a flower far to delicate for him to touch. He would give his life for you to not wither.

“I accept.” You nodded.

“I have a wife, Rhea.” He grimaced at the thought of his bronze bitch “I shall never be able to provide you the title of my first wife.” His hand trailed up to hold your cheek, stroking away the moisture that had looked below your eyes.

“Taking my name as yours will bring nothing but notoriety.” He kissed you cheek.

“I accept.”

“Then let it be known, the world would remember us as one,” He moved backwards gesturing towards the priest in his entourage.

“The Watergardens,” You stated, gesturing your servants to lead the priest to the location.

Daemon had allowed you moments alone, your household torn over what was happening. While many sighed in relief, perhaps you would finally eat; let life make your skin glow yet again. The storm gave away and your lamp was still burning bright. He presented you with a head piece made of khaki cloth, amber and rubies with stray pieces of shells. You handmaidens were quick with it, pinning it onto your hair as Daemon made his arrangements. Caraxes looked over the Watergardens, whistling just as ecstatically as his rider as he perched himself on the beach mount.

The universe seemed to have been in agreement of your emotions, the wind on the beach picked up; cooling your overwhelmed and hot skin. The skies were clear, twinkling in stars and the full moon as the complimented the low tided waves crashing ashore. Your own servants had been quick, decorating the gardens with yellow and red candles and exotic Bravosi flower arrangements placed on vases. Daemon awaited you by the shore line.

Your hands held a dhanuchi, clay burners that held sizzling coal pieces accompanied with sandalwood. You hiked your skirts up, walking towards Daemon, counting your steps as your bare feet hit the sand, you were trying your hardest to breathe; he stood their awaiting you looking as galant as the day he received you at the Blackwater ports, it was from that day you knew your fate would be painted black in his name.

Daemon turned, toying with a black obsidian dagger as his eyes softened the second he saw you. He held his hand out for you take as you stopped next to him, placing the dhanuchi at the alter.

“This will hurt,” He whispered, gesturing to the dragon glass daggers. You shook your head, no pain would compare to the three moons you had spent without him. He lifted the edge against your bottom lip, drawing blood as he gently slashed a cut, he guided your hands to do the same. The taste of copper filled your mouth, a stinging sensation ran through your lips; one you knew would only soothe once you felt his lips on yours.

Blood of two, joined as one

You cut a gash on your palm, wincing as blood trickled to the surface; Daemon did the same with his before grasping your bloodied palm within his. The priest wrapped a silk across your palms, your lover’s lilac eyes held concern for your pains and yet wild adoration. You were to be his. Blood began to trickle into the cup of wine placed under you as the priest continued.

Ghostly flame and a song of shadows

Daemon marked your forehead with his blood, you followed his lead as the priest instructed the symbol you drew, he then offered you the cup of wine laced with your blood. You eyes never once left Daemon’s as you sipped on the strong wine before giving him the cup to do the same.

Two hearts as embers, forged in the fourteen fires

His hands came to rest at your cheek, both growing restless of the vows as he wiped the dripping blood from your lips.

A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness.

You pulled yourself closer to him, one might say you were dazed from the blood loss, in truth it was Daemon’s lilac eyes, how his hands caressed your skin. The wanting fires that engulfed the alter seeming leave everything in ashes but the two of you.

The vows spoken through time, of light and darkness.

He whispered along with the priest.

There was no shame in the way your lips crashed against one another, you tasted his blood on your tongue and yet his hands scorched your skin, almost consuming your body whole as his hands wandered everywhere as his lips claimed you. A stray tear fell from your eyes as your held onto his face, letting his tongue explore yours. You couldn’t breathe from the passion of it all, not that you cared; you life was now his to do with as he pleased.

You rested on Daemon’s lap as he lounged on your window bed, working a healers poultice on the cut of his palm, still lingering in the after effects of wedding. His hands gently returned the favour as he wrapped yours in gauze, you prayed that it would scar; it was a testament for your devotion.

“There- all fixed sweet wife.” Daemon whispered, nudging his nose against your cheek. Heat immediately rose to you cheek as you looked away, you were his wife.

You shuffled off of him, you walked to the steaming dhanuchi that you had carried back to your bed chambers, you bed chambers smelled sweet from it aroma. You had lit in hopes of being blessed by the fertitly goddess, that your marriage remaind pure and secure for eternity. You pushed you skirts always as you climbed onto your bed, letting the steam grace and bless your bed with your unconditional wish.

You dropped the burner on the floor after, letting it submerge the room in its sweet smoke. You awaited your husband as he rid himself of his tunic, you shuffled closer as you sat on your knees. Admiring his toned body and taking account for every battle scar on his skin that you would spend the rest of your life healing with your love.

“Will- will you bed me now, husband?” You whispered, your lips dangerously closer to his, begging for another kiss.

“Oh, I plan to do more than just bedding you.” His lips moulded against yours once more as his hands tugged on the ties of your blouse.

“I conquer Dorne tonight,” He teased, peppering kisses to your temple down to you cheek. He pushed you back on the bed, almost immediately pouncing on top.

He grasped your wrists with one hand, pushing them above your head as he laid siege upon your neck. Laying warm- wet kisses and bruising nips at your neck; his hair tickling at your bare skin as your squirmed underneath him. There was no reasoning to the gentle throb that began pulsing at your core- you rubbed your thigh closer to make it halt. He pushed aside your unlaced blouse, your chest heaved as he suckled on your breast, pulling and licking the hardening pebble in his mouth.

You back arched if the bed, pushing your chest into his mouth, small open mouthed gasps left your mouth as his fingers danced past your navel; yanking on the fastening strings of skirts. His hands pushing your skirts and small clothes down at once, unwrapping you like present as your laid in his ordered positioning.

You succumbed to your exposure, you moved your head in shame, opting to look out at the glaring moon as it witnessed your de-flowerinng. Daemon took offence to your actions, using his fingers to guide your chin towards him as he groaned in disapproval.

“Three moons apart and you dare look away from me?” Daemon cocked his brow at you, freeing your hands as he ventured lower on your body.

“I- forgive me, my prince.” You whispered, your lungs refraining you from speaking any louder

“Husband,” He corrected as he pushed you legs apart.

“Husband.” You mewled in shame as his fingers stroked your folds that looked by the minute. His lips latched onto your inner left thigh, sucking and nipping at the skin.

All the while his eyes remained devious yet absurdly comforting, the two fingers that drew circles on your thighs or a small groans he left against your skin, indicative of how much he was truly enjoying himself. Just for his own satisfaction he marked your thighs at several spots, leaving darkening marks for you to reminisce over in the coming fortnight.

You felt intoxicated, revelling in the way his tongue wet your outer folds before indulging in the saccharine delight that was your cunt, a shameless moan echoed through your bed chambers as you felt his tongue flicking at a much sensitive spot. He moaned against your mound the second your taste hit his tongue.

His palm, large enough to lay flat over your soft belly to hold you flush a against the bed as he took his liberties, lapping at your like his last meal had been consumed days before. His eyes bore into yours, his own demeanour turning to command, strumming the pleasures of your body to his own rhythm.

“Such a sweet delight,” He complimented, mostly to distract you from his finger easing into your tightness. You immediately clenched down on the intrusion. “This shall ease the discomfort.” He elaborated before spitting onto your folds

Your head fell backwards in shame, focusing on the comforting caresses in your torso as Daemon plunged his finger in knuckle deep. You couldn't take the prolonging tasks no longer. You whined, pawing at Daemon’s trousers.

“Please, please have me already.” You begged, you wanted to feel him within you. You could careless of the pain or discomfort, you just wanted to be one

“Take them off,” He instructed, your hands immediately worked on unbuttoning his pants, before digging your fingers into her rear to pull them down. His cock- that thing hung pliant between his legs. Part of you looked up at him curiously, and the other half wondered how your envious would engulf such a monstrosity. Your eyes silently asked for permission, to which Daemon simply stroked your hair as your wrapped your hand around the warm appendage. You were unsure of what to do.

“Stroke it, gently.” He guided you as you followed, feeling his cock twitch in your hands as you moved your hands back and forth. His tip soon glistened in moisture leaking from within. All Daemon could think of were your sweet lips wrapped around his cock and yet there was an eternity to teach you of the pleasures of the flesh. “Good girl,” He cooed.

He urged you to lay back against the pillows, working his length to harden to its full potential. He hesitated, having taken many maiden heads before, he needed this to be delicate as he tore through yours. He circled his tip at your sensitive rose bud before pushing at your entrance. You gasped out loud, letting you arms wrap around his shoulders as he inched forwards.

The stretch of his efforts shot a stinging sche through your pelvis, and he halted. Kissing your cheek and cooing at you in an attempt to alleviate even a fraction of the discomfort you were in. He advanced all the way in, hoping to let your ride out the waves of pain; you cried out louder and yet there was a little more left to go

“Look at me, just me. I shall make it better.” He groaned, hoping to suppress his own pleasures that coursed through his body, your tightness strangling his cock with threats of nearly milking him dry before anything had even begun. He felt selfish for feeling bliss as you silently wept underneath him, he caressed your cheek, the thing he held onto as his lips kissed your face. Peppering kisses to your forehead and your lips, over and over again as he inched forward

“Dae-” You shrieked as he finally bottomed out within you, the pressure of the stretch making your eyes well in more tears. You pulled yourself closer to him, trying to muffle your weeps on the crook of his neck. His arm reaches under you to support your neck. His deeper voice whispered encouragements as he awaited you to adjust to the pain.

“Look at how well you take me,” He whispered in between kisses that he pressed in your temples “Made just for me, aren't you? My sweet little wife.”

“Just for you,” You sniffled, letting yourself rest back against the pillows.

There was a humiliating familiarity in the way your aches encouraged your actions, you shuffled underneath him. Hoping to get him to move and yet he solely focused on doting on your body.

“Husband-” You whimpered, making his eyes shoot to you as they were focused on where the two of you were connected just moments before. He hummed in acknowledgement

“Can you- um please.” You stuttered, almost frustrated at yourself for losing your wording this easy.

“You have to tell me sweet wife, show me what you need.” He asked, urging his will into your answer.

“Please move- I need you to move.” You requested, he smiled before angling his hips backwards; hissing wantonly in the process and you mewled under him. There was pain within the first few thrusts and yet the deranged tendencies of your blood milked pleasure from the pain that subsided to a subtle pressure in your belly.

Daemon lost his composure, uttering vulgarities in your ear; the most obscene of sentences paired with the sweets of names he had picked for you.

“Perfect little hole, taking me so well,” He’d compliment one minute.

“Should have fucked this cunt the first day I laid eyes on you sweet girl,” The next he’d complain of the things he’d regretted.

He held your jaw, a feral smirk adoring his lips as he took your apart, your bangles clicking as your body bounced with his determined thrusts.

“Daemon!” You shrieked, such hurtful pleasure causing you to bed for such sinful things

“Just like that, scream your husband’s name.” He grunted, “Let all of Dorne know who owns this pretty body. Go on tell me.”

“You do, you do.” Cries poured from your lips as you held onto his forearms. “My Daemon,” You moaned as pulled yourself up to kiss his lips.

“Yes, yes sweet girl. All yours.” His deviant smile widened. Your cunt began to flutter around him, such flattery could mean just one thing as Daemon pushed his pelvis against yours, his thrusts grinding at your nub.

“That’s it, just lay there and take my seed,” He growled, his playing again harshly grasping your jaw to make you look at him.

“Dae- Daemon!” The ever impending storm began to paw at your insides,

Not long now- “I want it, I want babes and so much more. Please, please.” You begged to hope that itch would finally give way, and so it did. With no warning and only a scream of your husband’s name, your body erupted in ecstasy.

Daemon groaned out loud, muttering praises of your name, good girl, his sweet girl. Yes, you were. All for him as you loomed on a cloud perched high above the ground, you only registered Daemon’s thrusts faltering and warm filling your core, and then you felt Daemon’s caresses on your skin as you coaxed your heaving body to stability.

“Still with me?” He whispered against your hair and all you could muster was a lazy nod against his chest. You hissed feeling his cock leave your opening, he pushed you through it all. Letting his body weight do the work for you as he pulled himself to sit up along with you.

You finally opened your eyes, blinking away stray tears as he wiped at the trails of moisture on your cheeks. He bundled your exhausted body against his as he lifted you off your bed, walking you along to your chaise before wrapping a spare blanket against both your bodies, almost rocking your vulnerable body to a humming under his breath.

Maids poured into the clear martial bed, they all frowned at the image of their beloved Lady Martell curled against a dragon without a care as you nuzzled against him. Daemon snapped his fingers at them as they began to carry the bloodied sheets away, gesturing to the corner of the room for them to leave it behind. He planned to gift it to his brother’s council, as a warning.

There was nothing anybody could refuse Daemon Targaryen from- that and that he had a new wife. A wife of his choice, a wife he intended on loving until his death bed.

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year

Note

hey love! for the acotar smut prompts would u consider 2, 8, and 11 for azriel or lucien <3

Here you go, love! I chose 8 & 11 for Lucien, hope that’s okay. I feel like it went off on a bit of a tangent so I hope you like it lol💋

—————————————————————————

The meeting was not supposed to get this out of hand.

You’d promised Rhysand — explicitly promised him — that you’d be on your best behaviour while delivering a message to the Spring Court. And you truly had intended to cordially deliver it to Tamlin and leave.

Until you’d bumped into Lucien — your past love.

Things had been idyllic between you. You’d loved him fiercely, just as he’d loved you. Until after the war, when he’d decided to return to the Spring Court. To return his loyalty to Tamlin — even after everything had happened — rather than remain with you in the Night Court. It had cleaved the two of you apart, and things hadn’t been so idyllic since then.

Six horrible, miserable months had passed since. And you weren’t stupid enough to believe it just a coincidence that Rhys had elected you to deliver his message and risk running into Lucien.

Which was precisely what had occurred. And it hadn’t taken long for tensions to become fraught. You couldn’t bear to face him, to sit in the same room as him and the male who had come between you. Your quick temper may have got the better of you.

You’d made your exit on a particularly colourful parting, and were hurrying back through the house when you heard rushed, thudding footsteps following. You sped up, trying to cross the length of the tea room and reach the glass double doors to the garden, but Lucien was hot on your trail.

“Get back here, Y/N.” He snarled at you from behind. “We’re not done talking.”

“Oh yes we are.” You snapped back, shaking with rage. “I’m leaving.”

You needed to get out of there. Needed to be far away from Lucien and Tamlin and the damn Spring Court before you did something really stupid. Like burn the entire estate down.

Or show Lucien just how much he’d hurt you.

“Hey,” he caught up to you, grabbing your hand. “I don’t want to fight. I just want us to talk.”

You stopped, rounding on him. Ripped your hand away. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“We’ll I have plenty to say to you. I’ve written about a thousand letters—”

“And I burned them all.” You sneered. “Every single one of them.”

Lucien’s eyes flared. He glared down at you, face a picture of fury laced with hurt. “I understand why you’re angry—”

“No you don’t!”

Your voice was hoarse from the shouting you’d already done, but you pushed yourself, loud words echoing through the room. Lucien blinked at you.

“You don’t understand a fucking thing—”

You words were cut short as Lucien grabbed your face in his hands, crushing your lips against his in a passionate kiss and stealing the breath from your lungs. His touch on you was searing, and you faltered, almost lost yourself—

You shoved against his chest, parting him from you. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Drop the damn act, Y/N.” His chest was heaving. “I think you’re forgetting how well I know you. How easily I can read you. You may act like you hate me, but deep down, you want me to touch you. You love me and I love you—”

“I can’t stand you!” You screamed, shoving at his chest again.

His jaw ticked, and suddenly he was yanking you against him, walking the two of you towards the huge wall of windows that overlooked the gardens. You were sure the staff could hear your yelling, were probably peeking out from around hedges and trees to see what the fuss was, but your anger made it impossible for you to care.

“Yell at me again,” Lucien hissed, “and I’ll give you a reason to scream.”

You stared at him — gaped at him — and he stared back. Both of you were trembling, breathing heavily. You hated him and loved him and wanted him, and you wished his words didn’t have the power to set you on fire.

But they did. And they had.

The two of you surged forward at the same time, meeting in a hard, rough kiss. Lucien had always had the ability to turn the direction of your moods within seconds. Anger became lust, and suddenly, you couldn’t kiss him hard enough, couldn’t undress him fast enough.

Your back hit the window with a resounding smack, and Lucien’s strong hands ripped your shirt open, buttons scattering over the floor. His lips seared yours as he moved to the laces on your breeches, and he tugged at them harshly, yanking them down as quickly as he possibly could.

“Gods,” You huffed into his mouth, tugging at his hair. “This is a terrible idea.”

His hands faltered. “You want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Good,” he growled. “Because I wanna fuck you against the glass so everyone can see how well you take it.”

His delicious, filthy words drew a moan from your throat, and you ripped at his clothes hungrily, freeing the long, hard length of him.

You hissed between your teeth. You missed this. Missed him. And if you didn’t have him inside you immediately—

“Turn around.” His eyes flashed with need, darting down to your parted shirt, your bare breasts.

You did as he said.

His arms came around you, one kneading your breast and the other sliding between your legs, his fingers sliding inside you. And then he was pushing you up against the window, your cheek pressed to the glass.

“Have you missed this?” His hair tickled your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, pumping his fingers. “Missed me touching you? Fucking you?”

“Yes.” You admitted on a gasp. “You’re still an asshole, though.”

He pulled his fingers out of you. And the loss was quickly replaced with the head of his cock, slipping between your folds.

“Be that as it may,” he said quietly, “I’m an asshole who loves you. Who’s missed you. Missed my girl.”

The tip pushed into you, and you sucked in a sharp breath, biting your lip. “I bet you’ve been fucking any female that comes near—”

He slipped further into you, causing your words to die in your throat. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “I haven’t fucked anyone.” He said, pushing and pushing. “It’s just been me and my hand and thoughts of you.”

You couldn’t help moaning. At him, his words, the feel of him filling you. The image of him fisting at his cock whilst thinking of you.

“What kind of thoughts?” You tipped your head back, resting it against him.

As he stilled, allowing you to adjust to him fully inside of you, he released your breast, sliding his hand down to toy with your clit. Your hips jerked at the sensation, both too much and not enough.

“How you feel around my cock,” he growled, pulling out and thrusting back in. “The noises you make. Your facial expressions. How hard you make me cum.”

“Gods,” you moaned, reaching back to thread your fingers in his hair. “Yes.”

His hips picked up, fingers working at your clit harder, faster. “And all the different places and different ways we’ve fucked. Although,” He growled, “we’ve never done it against a window like this. Does it get you off? Knowing that people are probably watching me fuck you?”

Gods, it did. And it got Lucien off just as much, evidently, as he released a gruff sound and began to relentlessly pound into you.

“Fuck, just like that.” He hissed, skin loudly slapping yours. “Feel good? Are you gonna cum for me, my girl?”

You were long beyond the ability to form any more words, only filthy, needy noises escaping you. And when Lucien pressed down on your clit and truly let loose on you, you absolutely fucking lost it.

A scream tore through you, your hands tugging at his hair as he fucked you through your orgasm. You were clenching around him, begging him to fall over that edge with you. You wanted to feel him cumming, to know that he was close behind you—

“Fuck,” He kissed your neck, his voice shaking. “I’m so close. So close.”

You moaned, still clenching around him. Somehow managed to find your raspy, fucked-out voice. “I haven’t…” you gasped, moving your hips perfectly with his, “fucked anyone else either, you know.”

Those very words seemed to be the one that sent him freefalling into utter bliss.

He grabbed at your hips, and managed a few more staggered thrusts before he roared his release into your neck and spilled inside you. He filled you up completely, and he seemed unable to hold himself up any longer as he collapsed against you, pushing you closer up to the glass.

Moments passed of silence. And then he kissed your neck. Your cheek. Ran a gentle hand over your shoulder.

“Neither of us are fucking anyone else.” He said. “Ever.”

#ask #acotar #acotar fandom #lucien vanserra #oneshot

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importantchaosgiver · 10 days

Text

Where Loyalties Lie:

Wonderful Indulgence

Summary: After hearing summons from the king, (Y/N) goes to investigate what and why Viserys asked for her. What she saw was heartbreaking... what she experienced was otherworldly...

Warnings: Canon typical swearing, angst, light smut,

P.S: This is my first time writing smut and (Y/N) will replace Alicent in the scene with Viserys in the bath.

******

No One's POV

When (Y/N) arrived in the king's chambers, she realised it was the middle of the night. And upon entering, she saw Viserys in a tub, wincing in pain as a maid cleaned his arm. Although, upon her entrance, Viserys looked up. She knew why he asked for her. But why not Alicent? "Please, leave," (Y/N) said to the servants, taking the towels and clothes from their arms. They nodded in respect to the Lady Commander and left, closing the door behind them. "We haven't spoken much since you came back," Viserys said gently. She said nothing as she looked at Viserys's arm and she felt her heart break even further. Discarding her cloak and sword, she knelt beside the tub. "Gods be good," (Y/N) whispered, looking at his arm. His pinky finger and the overall forearm. She knew damn well what this was. "You were cut by the Iron Throne, weren't you?" she whispered, looking into his eyes.

Viserys had never seen her so hurt, so pained, so... vulnerable. "Regrettably, yes," he muttered. (Y/N) said nothing and rolled her sleeves back, picking up the cloth and gently cleaning around the area. Being cut by the throne was a death sentence... and now not only did she have to hide how she felt, she had to bear the knowledge that we would die to a sickness that was doing who knows what to his body. He gave her a soft smile, the crackling fire in the hearth casting shadows across her face, highlighting her healing cut. But he noticed how her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

"Why didn't you say anything?" (Y/N) whispered, putting the cloth down and looking at Viserys, trying to hold back her tears. He gave a weak smile. "I didn't wish to worry you, my dear. But you have every right to know," he said, gently putting his hand on her cheek, cupping it. Heat flooded her body as she tried to fight the blush. "I... I don't know if I can watch you die," she whispered. Viserys leant forward. "We all have our time, (Y/N). Some, sooner than most," he said, their faces slowly getting closer, the flames flickering. "But... I can't lose you. Damnit, Viserys!" she hissed, pulling away and standing up. She walked back a few paces, turning her back to him as she tried to fight the raging torrent of emotions swirling in her. Her ears pricked up as she heard water sloshing about as Viserys no doubt got out of the bath. "The night I married Alicent, the night you left for the Stepstones... I had a dream. One so vivid, it felt like I lived it. By my side wasn't Alicent. It was you. Dressed in white, a crown of silver and diamond upon your head. A goddess. And you were sat upon the Iron Throne. Like a true queen. I knew then... I made a misdirection. I should have married the person I loved. Truly loved. The one who has been right in front of me all these years; hidden in plain sight," Viserys whispered gently, putting his hands on her clothed hips, turning her around. (Y/N)'s cheeks flushed as she realised he hadn't picked up a towel at all. His eyes gazed into hers, the firelight making the water on his body glisten. "(Y/N), I love you. And I want to show it to you... whilst I still can," he whispered, pressing her forehead to hers.

(Y/N) let out a shuddering breath, heat spreading through her veins, moisture pooling within her breeches and smallclothes. She had never felt like this before. As she had stuck true to her vows. But... could she possibly do this? The man she loved with feirce loyalty and passion, the man she spent her life protecting... he loved her. (Y/N) let out a breath. "I do not give a fuck about my oath as of now. Please, let me break it... for you," she whispered. Viserys smiled, his lips finally joining with hers after some long awaited years.

The kiss started off quite soft and tender. But, took on a more heated exchange. (Y/N) pulled back, taking deeper breaths. Viserys's hands wandered up her sides slowly, going to the collar of her shirt, unlacing it. Katherine's eyes flutter shut as his lips found her neck, pulling the fabric down enough so he could kiss all over her shoulder. All thought of her oath flew out of the window. And her king wished for this himself. It was all a blur, but she felt it all. Viserys's eagerness to take off her breeches. Her clothes were soon discarded to the floor as she stood before him. For the first time in her life, bare to a man. "Gods be good... you are wonderful. It is as if they sent an goddess to me," Viserys whispered, gently pushing her onto his bed, laying her beneath him. (Y/N) grasped onto the sheets as he looked down, entering her. She groaned at the feeling of her maidenhead being taken. But she had experienced far worse in manners of pain. Viserys gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing the line of stitches that kept her wound firmly shut.

Every movement, every caress, every moan and whisper... it felt so good. Like they were meant to be. Their lips joined in a feverish kiss, their bodies moving in perfectly sync to each other. Viserys could barely feel the aches and pains of his ailment, overwrought with pleasure as he finally had (Y/N). He finally had her love, her body, her everything.

~~~

(Y/N) soundlessly got back into her clothes, lifting her breeches back up, smiling as she saw him watching her. Viserys smiled at her as she pulled her shirt back on and did the laces back up. "That has never felt more right," he chuckled softly. "All those years I heard about the pleasures of fucking. I couldn't agree more," she replied, using her hair to conceal the mark on her neck. "Goodnight... my love," Viserys whispered, pressing one last kiss to the back of her hand. (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat. "Rest well, Viserys," she whispered, giving him a soft and lingering kiss to his lips before standing up, putting her cloak and sword back on and left. With a smile upon her face and her heart uplifted. But... for how long...?

******

Okay, so I went a bit light on the smut bit. But I have been thinking on it for a while. Enjoy!

#alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #otto hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #viserys x reader #fantasy #westeros #asoiaf #criston cole

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hc-geralt-23 · 4 months

Text

Broken Promises

Once upon a time, in a world ravaged by a deadly fungal infection, you found solace in the arms of a man named Joel Miller. He was your rock, your protector, and the one person you thought you could trust in this unforgiving post-apocalyptic world. You had made plans together, dreams of starting a new life, away from the horrors that surrounded you.

But fate had a cruel twist in store for you. One day, as you were scavenging for supplies, you stumbled upon a heart-wrenching sight. Joel, the man you loved, was locked in a passionate embrace with Tess, his long-time friend and companion. Your heart shattered into a million pieces, and the pain was unbearable.

Feeling betrayed and hurt, you made the difficult decision to leave Joel behind. With a heavy heart, you sought refuge in Jackson, where his brother Tommy resided. You hoped that being away from Joel would help heal the wounds he had inflicted upon you.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. You tried to rebuild your life, but the memories of Joel haunted you. You wondered if he ever thought of you, if he regretted his actions. And then, one fateful day, Joel arrived in Jackson with a young girl named Ellie.

As you caught sight of Joel, your heart skipped a beat. He looked older, wearier, and there was a sadness in his eyes that mirrored your own. Ellie, the perceptive young girl, noticed the tension between you and Joel. She couldn't help but ask, "Who is she, Joel? Why do you look so sad when you see her?"

Joel hesitated, his gaze shifting between you and Ellie. The weight of his guilt was evident as he finally spoke, "Her name is (Y/N). She was... she was someone special to me. But I messed up, Ellie. I made a terrible mistake, and I lost her."

Ellie's eyes widened with understanding, and she turned to you, curiosity etched on her face. You took a deep breath, gathering the strength to face Joel once more. "Joel, why did you do it? We had plans, dreams together. You promised me a future, and then you shattered it all."

Joel's voice cracked as he replied, "I can't explain why I did what I did, (Y/N). I was scared, lost, and I made a terrible choice. But I never stopped loving you.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to Joel's words. The pain of his betrayal was still fresh, but seeing the remorse in his eyes, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. "Joel, love isn't just about words. It's about trust and loyalty. You broke that trust, and it's going to take more than just words to mend it."

Joel nodded, his voice filled with sincerity. "I know, (Y/N). I understand that I hurt you deeply, and I don't expect you to forgive me right away. But I want you to know that I've regretted my actions every single day. Being with Tess was a mistake, and I lost sight of what truly mattered."

Ellie, who had been silently observing the exchange, spoke up. "Joel, if you love her, then fight for her. Show her that you're willing to change, to make amends. Actions speak louder than words, remember?"

Her words struck a chord within Joel, and he turned to you, determination etched on his face. "You're right, Ellie. (Y/N), I want to make things right. I want to earn back your trust, to prove to you that I'm committed to you and only you. I'll do whatever it takes."

You looked into Joel's eyes, searching for any signs of deceit. But all you saw was genuine remorse and a flicker of hope. Slowly, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Okay, Joel. But know that rebuilding trust won't be easy. It will take time, patience, and a lot of effort."

Joel reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently cupped your cheek. "I'll do whatever it takes, (Y/N). I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. I love you, and I'm so sorry for what I've done."

A mix of emotions swirled within you, but deep down, you still loved Joel. You wanted to believe in the possibility of forgiveness and a future together. With a shaky breath, you leaned into his touch, whispering, "I love you too, Joel. Let's take it one step at a time."

And so, in the midst of a broken world, you and Joel began the arduous journey of rebuilding what was lost. It wouldn't be easy, but with love, forgiveness, and a newfound determination, you hoped

that you could find a way to heal the wounds and create a stronger bond than ever before.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Joel proved his commitment to you through his actions. He was there for you, supporting you in every way possible. He listened to your fears, your doubts, and never once dismissed them. He showed up every day, proving that he was willing to put in the effort to regain your trust.

As time went on, the pain began to fade, replaced by a cautious hope. You saw the changes in Joel, the way he had learned from his mistakes and grown as a person. The love you once shared began to rekindle, slowly but surely.

One evening, as you sat by the fire in Jackson, Joel approached you, a small smile playing on his lips. "I never thought I'd have a second chance with you, (Y/N). I'm grateful every day that you gave me that opportunity."

You looked up at him, a soft smile gracing your face. "It hasn't been easy, Joel, but I see the effort you've put in. I see the changes in you, and I believe in us."

Joel took your hand in his, his touch warm and comforting. "I promise you, (Y/N), I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I'll never let you down again."

And in that moment, as the flames danced before you, you knew that forgiveness had found its way into your heart. The scars of the past would always be there, a reminder of the pain you had endured, but together, you and Joel would face the challenges that lay ahead.

As the days turned into years, you and Joel built a life together in Jackson. The wounds of the past slowly faded, replaced by a love that had weathered the storm. And as you watched Joel interact with Ellie, the bond between them growing stronger, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. For it was through their journey that you had found your way back to each other, stronger and more resilient than ever before.

In this broken world, where trust was a rare commodity, you had managed to find solace in the arms of the man who had once shattered your heart. And together, you would face whatever challenges came your way, knowing that love and forgiveness had the power to heal even the deepest wounds.

And as the years went by, your love with Joel also blossomed and grew, and soon, your family expanded. Two beautiful children came into your lives, a testament to the love that had been rekindled between you.

Your daughter, Hope, had Joel's piercing blue eyes and your infectious laughter. She was a beacon of joy and innocence in this harsh world, reminding you of the beauty that still existed amidst the chaos. And your son, James, inherited Joel's strong build and your determination. He was a constant reminder of the resilience and strength that ran through your veins.

Joel embraced fatherhood with a newfound sense of purpose. He was there for every milestone, every scraped knee, and every bedtime story. He cherished his role as a father, making sure to instill in your children the values of love, loyalty, and compassion.

Together, you and Joel created a safe haven for your family within the walls of Jackson. You watched with pride as your children grew, their laughter filling the air and their smiles lighting up the darkest of days. They were a testament to the love that had endured, a symbol of hope in a world that often seemed devoid of it.

As you sat together as a family, sharing stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the second chance you had given Joel, for the love that had been rebuilt, and for the beautiful family that had emerged from the ashes of the past.

In this broken world, where darkness loomed at every corner, your love and the bond you shared with your children became a beacon of light. Together, you faced the challenges that came your way, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

And so, in the midst of a world ravaged by infection and despair, you found solace, love, and a family that would forever be a testament to the power of forgiveness and the strength of the human spirit.

#pedro pascal character #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #tlou joel #joel the last of us #the last of us x reader

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zapreportsblog · 8 months

Note

Yandere Aemon Targaryen ( Jaehaerys 1 son)

❝you and I will rule together❞

✭ pairing : yandere aemon targaryen x reader

✭ fandom : game of thrones

✭ summary : aemon targaryen is a known as the ruthless prince and it’s a wonder to the people how he managed to get with a sweet young women such as (y/n), wherever she goes, he lurks in the background watching her every move.

✭ authors note : yeo I turnt his picture around and now it’s fucking with me 😭

✭ yandere masterlist

In the realm of Westeros, tales of the Targaryens had always been shrouded in mystery and intrigue. Stories of dragons, madness, and power were whispered through the halls of King's Landing. Yet, amidst the legends and blood feuds, one Targaryen stood out in a different way - Prince Aemon Targaryen.

Aemon Targaryen was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms as the Ruthless Prince. His demeanor was cold and calculating, his words sharper than Valyrian steel. His reputation for cunning, ambition, and a ruthless determination to achieve his goals preceded him wherever he went. Many pondered how such a man could ever find solace in the arms of a woman, especially one with a reputation as sweet and gentle as his wife, (Y/N).

(Y/N) was a stark contrast to her husband in every way imaginable. Her smile was a beacon of warmth in a world that seemed perpetually shrouded in shadows. Her kindness and compassion had won the hearts of all who had the privilege of knowing her. But what truly puzzled the court and commoners alike was how Prince Aemon, the feared and obsessed protector of his wife, could ever have found love in the first place.

Their union had been a source of endless fascination, for Aemon had always been notorious for his affairs and dalliances. He had indulged in passionate liaisons with countless women, including his younger niece, before the day he married (Y/N). Yet, as soon as their wedding vows were exchanged, a transformation occurred. Aemon's infidelity ceased, and the relentless pursuit of his desires turned towards his wife.

It was said that he had been obsessed with her long before their marriage, though few dared to speak of it openly. Some whispered that he had been captivated by her ethereal beauty, her radiant kindness, and her unwavering loyalty to him. Others believed that it was something darker, an obsession that consumed him entirely, making him willing to forsake all others for her.

Regardless of the reasons behind their union, one thing was certain: Aemon Targaryen was fiercely protective of his wife, (Y/N). Wherever she went, he was never far behind, though often he remained concealed in the shadows, lurking like a silent sentinel. It was as though he believed himself to be her unseen guardian, sworn to protect her from any harm that might befall her.

The courtiers of King's Landing often gossiped about the strange relationship between the Ruthless Prince and his sweet wife. Some speculated that he kept her locked away in their chambers, a delicate bird in a gilded cage. Others claimed to have witnessed tender moments between the two, glimpses of a love that defied the prince's reputation.

As the tales of Prince Aemon and (Y/N) continued to unfold, it became clear that their union was far more complex and enigmatic than anyone could have imagined. The Ruthless Prince had indeed been tamed, but the reasons behind this transformation remained hidden, buried beneath layers of secrecy, obsession, and the shadows that clung to them both.

The court of King's Landing was always abuzz with rumors and speculation about Prince Aemon and his sweet wife, (Y/N). Some said that their marriage was nothing more than a strategic alliance, a move to solidify power and alliances in the ever-shifting game of thrones. Others believed that there was something deeper, something hidden beneath the surface.

(Y/N) moved gracefully through the courtly affairs, her gentle smile lighting up even the darkest corners of the Red Keep. She was a beloved figure among the nobility and commoners alike, known for her charitable deeds and her ability to bring a sense of calm to the chaos of the capital.

But as beloved as she was, there was always a lingering unease whenever the conversation turned to her husband. Aemon Targaryen was a man of sharp edges and unpredictable moods. His obsession with (Y/N) was undeniable, and it was often the source of hushed whispers among the courtiers.

Whenever she attended social gatherings or events, Aemon's presence was felt, if not seen. He remained hidden in the shadows, a vigilant guardian who watched over his wife with unwavering devotion. Some found his protectiveness endearing, a testament to the depths of his love. Others couldn't help but feel a shiver of discomfort at the way he loomed, unseen but ever-present.

Aemon's transformation from a notorious philanderer to a devoted husband had been abrupt and mysterious. It was as though a switch had been flipped on the day they were wed, and his former pursuits were cast aside. No longer did he entertain the company of other women, no longer did he engage in reckless liaisons that had once been the talk of the court.

The court's intrigue only deepened as time passed. (Y/N) seemed content in her role as the beloved wife of the Ruthless Prince, but there were moments when glimpses of unease flickered in her eyes. Those who were closest to her noticed the subtle changes in her demeanor, the way her laughter sometimes sounded forced, and the hints of sadness that occasionally clouded her bright spirit.

As the court's whispers grew louder, one question remained unanswered: What had driven Aemon Targaryen, the Ruthless Prince, to forsake his past and become the shadowy protector of (Y/N)? What secrets lay beneath the surface of their marriage, and what price had been paid for their union?

The sun hung high in the sky as (Y/N) strolled through the bustling marketplace of King's Landing, her heartlighter than usual. The aroma of exotic spices, the calls of vendors haggling, and the vibrant colors of fabrics and trinkets surrounded her. Despite the lively scene, there was a persistent absence by her side, a shadow that never strayed too far.

"Sweet King," she whispered, her voice gentle as a summer breeze. It was the affectionate nickname she had bestowed upon her husband, Prince Aemon. She paused her steps, glancing over her shoulder towards the concealed figure lurking among the crowds. "Would you come out from the shadows and walk beside me today?"

Aemon hesitated, his silver hair concealed beneath a hood as he observed his wife from afar. He had always been vigilant, his eyes sharp and wary. But at her request, he reluctantly emerged from the shadows, his presence sending ripples of unease through the marketplace.

His tall figure materialized beside (Y/N), and for a moment, the people of King's Landing seemed to hold their breath. The Ruthless Prince, now visible in the daylight, was an imposing sight. But as his wife took his arm, her smile warm and welcoming, some of the tension dissipated.

As they strolled through the market, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. Her husband had a reputation as the ultimate protector, a guardian that lurked in the darkness. Yet today, he had yielded to her request, stepping into the light by her side.

Amidst the stalls and vendors, (Y/N) stopped at a jewelry merchant's cart, her eyes sparkling as she admired a delicate necklace adorned with sapphires. She exchanged a few words with the merchant and handed over a few coins, and he, in turn, reached out to give her the purchased item.

Aemon's watchful eyes never left her, even for a moment. He saw the merchant's hand brush against (Y/N)'s as he handed her the necklace, a seemingly innocent gesture of transaction. But to Aemon, it was an intrusion, an unwarranted touch that sent a jolt of anger through him.

Later, in the privacy of their chambers, Aemon summoned the merchant who had dared to touch his wife. The man, trembling with fear, stood before the Ruthless Prince, unaware of the storm that was about to descend upon him.

With a swift, merciless stroke, Aemon ordered the man's hand to be severed, a gruesome punishment for what he had perceived as an act of disrespect towards his beloved (Y/N). The merchant cried out in agony, his life forever altered.

When (Y/N) came to her husband with questions in her eyes, her voice trembling with concern, Aemon held her close, his arms a shield around her. "My perfect little dove," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with an underlying intensity. "I saw that man doing something unspeakable with his hands before he touched you. I couldn't let him near you."

(Y/N) was mildly horrified by the brutality of her husband's response, but she didn't doubt his words. She had always trusted Aemon's judgment, even when his actions seemed extreme. Nestled in his protective embrace, she nodded and whispered, "I know you'll always keep me safe, Sweet King."

The enigmatic shadows that clung to their marriage deepened, and the secrets that bound them together remained hidden from the prying eyes of the court. As they held each other close, Prince Aemon and his sweet wife (Y/N) faced a future filled with uncertainties, their devotion to each other stronger than ever, and their love veiled in mystery.

Late that day, as the moonlight gently cascaded through the curtains, Aemon lay beside his wife, watching her peaceful slumber. He couldn't help but be captivated by the delicate contours of her face, tracing his fingers softly over her features.

Whispering tenderly, he shared his deepest promises, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. "I'll always be there for you, no matter what," he murmured, his words filled with unwavering devotion. "When I am king, you will rule beside me as queen, sharing in the power and responsibilities that come with it."

His heart swelled with affection as he imagined a future where she stood by his side, their love a beacon of strength and unity. "By my side is your rightful place, your birthright," he continued, his hand resting gently on her stomach, envisioning a time when it would be rounded with their heirs.

In that moment, the room seemed to hold an air of anticipation, as if the dreams they shared were on the brink of becoming reality. Aemon's mind raced with thoughts of the legacy they would create together, a dynasty built on love and unity.

As he watched her breathing steady and calm, he felt a surge of gratitude for the woman lying beside him. She was not only his partner in life but also the embodiment of everything he held dear. Her strength, grace, and unwavering support were the foundations upon which his dreams were built.

With a gentle touch, he pressed his lips against her forehead, sealing his promises with a silent vow. In that quiet moment, Aemon knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them with unwavering determination. For his wife, his love, and the future they would forge together, he would give his all.

As sleep finally began to claim him, Aemon held her close, cherishing the warmth and comfort they found in each other's embrace. The night was filled with whispered dreams and the tender hopes of a future that seemed closer than ever before.

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hpalways · 2 years

Text

yandere!harbingers

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Pantalone, Dottore, Arlecchino, Tartaglia x GN!Reader

Warnings: yandere themes, obsession, death, also may not be accurate

A/N: Lowercase intended. A reminder not to romanticize yandere behaviors!! Also these are just headcanons for now, but I do hope to actually write drabbles/oneshots of them as yanderes :)

Pantalone

very manipulative, just look at him and that smile! when things do not go his own way, hell erupts quick. he will do anything to guilt trip you, bringing leverage from the past. you quickly learn to feel anxious when he gives you that type of smile.

from his childhood, he feels as though the world is against him. dealing with poverty and financial issues, it was what pushed his determination for wealth. and because he has learned to be so determined, he will be the same way with you.

since his influence is stretched far and wide, nothing can go underway him. he uses his power to keep an eye on you -- to make sure you don’t run from his clutches.

if you disobey him, he will train you like a dog, taking everything and everyone away from you and isolating you. the better you behave, the more he’ll return it all, treating you perfectly.

he loves you dearly, but he is somewhat of a perfectionist. your mistakes define him. he wouldn’t want that to happen, would he?

he lashes out in a dangerously sweet way, to anyone who dares question or insult you. he will also use his wealth to find people to do his dirty work, if necessary.

when he hugs you, his entire cloak traps you, to the point it almost feels suffocating. he can’t get his hands off of you, no matter how uncomfortable you would get.

once you find out how obsessive he truly is to you, he confesses smoothly and offers you a deal. “[name], we can do this the easy way or the hard way. either you come to me nicely, or you don’t and i kill anyone who gets in the way so that you can learn your lesson.”

Dottore

dottore easily fell in love with you when the two of you both went to Semeru Akademiya and you were the only one who made an effort to talk to him, despite him being shunned out by everyone else. that was your first mistake.

obsessive since then, he still continues to perform experiments on people and the moment he joins the Fatui, he makes brutal experiments on the ones who picked on you.

while very merciless with everyone else, he goes soft on you, showering you with his adoration, doing anything possible to be in your favor. he lies to you that his experiments have changed since then, to become better and less harmful.

when sent to Mondstadt to fulfil his mission for the Fatui, he essentially kidnaps you. this is where you learn his true colors, and the first time you are truly fearful of him. he no longer makes an effort to conceal his identity, declaring to you and the world that you are his to keep.

he forces you to watch him during his projects, gleefully taking in your reactions and only falling in love with you more. he doesn’t mind that you are scared of him anymore; as long as you’re by his side, he is satisfied.

at some point, he even performs experiments on you and though they are painful, he never overdo it to kill you. he cares for no other human life but yours.

“to me, you are very indispensable, my love.”

Arlecchino

when she falls in love, she falls deep and passionately. out in the snow, she finds you there playing with the orphans that would only grow up to dark future. though you do not know that, she could not help but grow a bond with you.

she is willing to do anything for you, even betray her closest confidants or the Fatui organization. in her eyes, you are the one to show her truth. after all, her loyalty with everything else is weak. she will remain loyal to only you.

very impulsive and act on her feelings quick. there is no hesitation when it comes to protecting you. if coating the snow in red is a must, then she will simply do it. if she must stand among dead bodies in the blizzard to see you safe and sound, she will.

holds you tightly, with a grip so strong that it pains you. she does not realize this -- the intensity she keeps when she is with you. it is a ticking time bomb, ready to go off to announce that she wants you.

the moment you find out that she works for the Fatui and the deeds she’s done, you feel betrayed and afraid. she pleads you to stay, growing furious and laying everything she’s done for you.

in the end, she forcibly pulls you along, threatening your loved ones. then she returns to pleading act, promising that she will quit the Fatui. it terrifies you... this double-edged sword.

“don’t you see? i only want you. my eyes are only on you.”

Tartaglia

fighting has been his obsession his whole life. adding you into the mix simply means that he will fight for you as well. that’s what he’s good at. fighting. he loves the thrill of it. so when you give him a similar thrill, he is ecstatic and knows that he needs you.

his ‘Childe’ persona blinded you at first. he appeared to be so charismatic and outgoing that you found yourself pulled in anyway. the more he spent time with you, the more he found himself thinking about you in every second of his day.

he battles with anyone who gets on his nerves when it comes to you. his anger paints his world red, resulting in many deaths from how merciless he acts.

his facade sometimes drops, growing bitter and cold, which concerns you. he turns into a new person, deep in his thoughts.

and as it finally reveals to you that he can no longer stop himself when it comes to you, he unleashes his true persona, smiling at you with blood smattered across his face. feelings are confessed, because he knows you can never escape him. his skills make sure of that.

his words always say one thing, but the tone would say otherwise. they are often sweet and covered in oozing poison as well.

“comrade, you don’t need to worry about a single thing. i can kill off anything for you.”

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crownedtargaryen · 1 year

Text

modern!got/hotd. - character building

(a/n): this is my own interpretation of modern!au got and hotd. if you disagree with me on some ideas, I truly do not care. this post can be used for story ideas and references for modern!au fics. if you’d like me to add a specific house, I will do so! this can be changed into a college!au as well. all notes are appreciated. tag list: @hopelesswritergall @twizzy123 @daenerysapologist @clairacassidy

The Stark family is well known for being extroverted and friendly individuals who love outdoor activities, sports, and almost anything that gets their blood pumping! They're known to show unreasonable amounts of loyalty to their passions, peers, partners, and family; sometimes being described as almost dog-like. They're proud owners of the Winterfell Wolf Sanctuary, where they teach the wolves who cannot move out into the wild to adapt to humans, their new environment, and even other animals. Each Stark is bonded to a wolf pup at age 10, raised alongside the beast and learning to love them as family and not just a pet.

main characters.

Cregan Stark, Jock: Adopted Cousin, taken in by Ned Stark. Co-Captain and proud defense player of the Iron High hockey team alongside Jacaerys. He's often been described by his peers as ambitious and family-focused, very territorial and defensive of his blood. (Demiromantic, Demisexual)

Robb Stark, Jock: Star quarterback of the Iron High football team. He's often been described by his peers as a playful and tough-loving individual. He shares his territorial sense with his cousin, Cregan, defending his name with pride while also befriending anyone, no matter how different they are from him. (Demiromantic, Demisexual)

Jon Snow, Middle-Grounded: Step-brother to the Starks, apart of the Iron High poetry club. He's often been described by his peers as mysterious and mildly-aggravating. To be honest, he dances around clubs and tries to find an after school activity that "speaks to him." He knows nothing about poetry, but he continues to go to the meetings merely to seem edgy, “deep”, and mysterious, which pisses off Aemond Targaryen. (Straight)

Brandon Stark, Nerd: Organizer of the Iron High eSports team. He's often been described by his peers as self-reserved and passionate. After losing his ability to walk, he needed to feel involved in something. He Twitch streams in his spare time, mostly practicing for tournaments with his friends on the team. He grows insecure over his loss of feeling in his legs and feel mildly pathetic, but can't bring himself to admit it. (Straight, Demisexual)

Arya Stark, Sporty: Star batter of the Iron High softball team. She’s often been described by her peers as competitive and passionate. She finds herself making small things a competition, urging to win and prove her worth to those around her. Though, underneath it all she’s struggling with romantic feelings, trying to identify her true sexuality and self. (Bicurious)

Sansa Stark, Popular: Running for student body president against Rhaena Targaryen. She’s often been described by her peers as sociable and kind. Though under her kind facade, she can be quite judgmental and catty when it comes to certain people. Definitely two faced on occasion. (Straight, Asexual)

The Targaryen family is well known for their sly and intelligent bloodline, that also ties into the Velaryon line. They’re a mix between sociable and lacking desire for social interaction with those around them, tending to go about tasks that test their smarts rather than their athletic capabilities. They’re said to start arguments that they know they can win and play games of wits to get what they please, which causes them to butt heads with the Lannisters. They can be seen as almost snake like. Each Targaryen child owns their own reptile, mostly based on personality. Their parents saw it as an outlet to keep responsibility and build emotional connections since most Targaryen children are neglected by their parents, and they can be seen as undesirable from time to time, which makes them lack friends.

main characters.

Aemond Targaryen, Mildly Popular: Though he isn’t apart of any specific activities or extracurricular activities, he can be seen with his siblings on most occasions. He’s often described by his peers as sly and cocky. People think they’re friends with him, but he truly as no interest in them and doesn’t remember their names. You can find him with Helaena, helping her with tutoring students, or with Aegon as his designated driver. He spends his time studying when not looking after his blood. When he was younger, his cousin had accidentally cut his eye while they were hunting, which had sent him into a entirely different personality, and Lucerys into disciplinary action and house arrest though the action was not intentional. (Demisexual, Demiromantic)

Aegon II Targaryen, Player Jock: Left-Wing hockey player on the Iron High hockey team. He’s often described by his peers as flirtatious and manipulative. He was hit the most by his parent’s neglectful ways, drowning himself in sexual relations and alcohol at they parties he goes to. You can often find him feeling up women at college parties, kissing on their necks and trying to get in their pants to feel some sort of relief in his life. Though, he holds terrible commitment issues and leaves the men and women he messes with immediately after getting what he needs from them. (Bisexual, Demiromantic)

Helaena Targaryen, Popular: Hosts tutoring for those who need it at Iron High. She’s often described by her peers as shy and gentle hearted. Her fascination with the outside world and aesthetics is both strange to most but can also be seen as admirable. Though she doesn’t go out of her way to talk to those around her, she seems to have accumulated an abundance of friends in the years of attending school. (Biromantic, Demisexual)

Daeron Targaryen, Social Butterfly: Though he has no true social status at Iron High due to being in the shadow of his brothers, sister, and cousins, he’s still known by quite a few. He’s often been described by her peers as exciting and adventurous. He holds deep insecurity for his lack of popularity like the rest of his family, but he continues to try to be open and exciting. He loves to go out with his sister, Helaena, during lunch and feed the small bugs pieces of fruit. (Biromantic, Asexual)

Rhaena Targaryen, Popular: Running for student body president against Sansa Stark. She’s often been described by her peers as kindhearted and easygoing. In her days of making friends, she tries to involve herself with every group without discrimination. She’s very well known for her genuine kindness and playfulness. (Straight, Demisexual)

Baela Targaryen, Sporty: Proud member of the Iron High pole vaulting and weightlifting team. She’s often been described by her peers as prideful and feisty. She is openly bisexual and close with her cousin Helaena and Arya Stark. She’s very open about herself and presents herself honestly, a powerful and passion driven young woman. (Bisexual)

Daenerys Targaryen, Popular: Distant cousin to the Targaryens, she’s well known for her beauty and kindness in competition to Cersei’s. Her peers often describe her as emotion driven and a pacifist. Wildly loved by all, but spited by some, her kindness spreads within the walls of Iron High and her aspirations drive her and others toward their future goals, attempting to motivate and befriend those around her. (Demiromantic, Demisexual)

The Velaryon family is well known for their ambition and balance in situations, enjoying the outdoors and physical activities unlike most of their cousins. They’re very kind souls, open to new things that’ll test their limits. They tend to become competitive at times, striving to please and be the best they can, though sometimes they can’t control themselves and sometimes people can get hurt. You often see them around the Stark kids, usually play wrestling with one another. Though, the Velaryon boys are products of a cheating scandal with their mother and a man named Harwin Strong, who soon ended up becoming their stepdad. Though, she holds a love for another who most speculate is Daemon Targaryen.

main characters.

Jacaerys Velaryon, Studious Jock: Co-Captain with Cregan and goalie on the Iron High hockey team. He’s often described by his peers as easygoing and loyal. A dedicated man to his work, you can often find him studying in his cousin’s study group to try to balance his grades with his sport. Though, occasionally he’s at parties trying to find a relaxation point between his schooling and constant training. That dedication makes him a ladies man, even though he’s merely kind to them and hasn’t intentionally tried to make anyone swoon. (Demiromantic, Demisexual)

Lucerys Velaryon, Extroverted Sporty: Goalie for the Iron High soccer team, he’s not very passionate about the sport he’s pursued in and is hoping to join his brother on the hockey team once the season rolls around. He’s often described by his peers as exciting and innocent. Girls tend to flock around him since he’s quite the small cutie, and he doesn’t seem to enjoy the attention too much. He’s very focused on his brother and protecting him from the other people who are eyeing him down, not understanding completely why so many girls take a liking to the two. (Straight, Demisexual)

The Lannister family are well known for their pride and riches, their children spoiled rotten and blessed with beauty as well. Though they aren’t very physically active, they make up for it with their manipulative and convincing personas. It’s known that if you challenge an Lannister to a battle of wits and cleverness, you will come out a loser. That is, unless you’re a Targaryen. It’s hard to match the passive aggressive personality of a Lannister as well as their ability to masterfully lie to those around them. Though, the Lannister children face abandonment issues and a craving for their father’s approval after their mother’s passing. So, it leaves them lashing out on those around them.

main characters.

Cersei Lannister, Popular: Not involved in many activities after she had stopped cheerleading due to suspicions of her and her brother Jaime being TOO close, she’s mostly seen painting her frustrations away in the art room during lunch. She’s often been described by her peers as two-faced and defensive. She has many friends and is well known for her beauty within the school, but no one is safe from her rumors. No matter how close you think you are to her, she will never find you desirable and will talk lowly of you at any moment. (Bicurious, Demisexual)

Jaime Lannister, Jock: Linebacker for the Iron High football team, he’s very passionate about the role he plays in this school. He’s been often described by his peers as “the good Lannister” and awfully cocky. Some people find his self confidence bothersome and distasteful, while others find it endearing. Though, he spends quite a bit of his time near his sister, which makes people raise questions on how close they REALLY are. (Bisexual with female preference.)

Tyrion Lannister, Party Animal: Much like Aegon, the drinks and women are a way to bury his deep feelings. He’s often described by his peers as witty and sly. When short guy season comes around, you’d be surprised by the amount of women that are on him. Though he tries to remain humble, as he puts it, by keeping his body count a mystery. (Straight)

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rosze-v · 1 year

Text

the jester and the aide

pairing: Pierro x Reader

synopsis: A mission for the Jester and the right hand of the Tsaritsa, what could possibly go wrong? or right?

tags: NOT PROOF READ, enemies to lover, aged up reader since Pierro is old, right hand/Tsaritsa’s aide reader, mentions of Natlan, Childe being a menace, injury, implied nsfw (consider it lime), ABSOLUTE PURE INDULGENCE AND I'M NOT SORRY, lowkey ooc Pierro but come on, who doesn’t want “he’s only soft for you” trope right? hehe

w.c : 3.6k

a/n: Hello! Its already February and I swear I’ve been lazing around, its bad. I hope everyone is doing fine these days. My heart also go out for the of people Turkiye and Syria, please be save, I pray comfort comes to all of you. Anyway, here’s a fic I’ve been thinking of and FINALLY I managed to finish it. I have realized these days that my grammar is horrendous and my way of writing is just meh.. so I guess I'm gonna start reading a lot more and start writing more! All in all, thank you to all who have love my writing and left such kind words, it truly made my days. I LOVE ALL OF YOU TAKE CARE!!!

There is a certain intuitive goosebump you have whenever a particular, old man comes. You’re not exactly sure when it started but you just know, whenever you could feel goosebumps on your neck, that man is in closer radius to you.

“And what are you doing here?”. Yes, there he is, the cause of your weekly irritation. Pierro’s voice echoes through the empty chamber as the clacks of his shoes came closer to you. You turned around, rolling your eyes at him as you reply.

“Well, I don’t know Pierro, maybe because I'm the Tsaritsa’s direct subordinate, her right hand. What about you? Don’t you have some chess competition to join?”. You snickered at Pierro’s age telling game as a frown deepens on his face.

The both of you could hear the Tsaritsa walking into the chamber, and immediately both you and Pierro kneel down, an act of respect for their loved queen. The both of you stayed in the kneeled position, face looking downward and only when the queen allows, that the both of you stood up.

“(y/n), Pierro.” The archon nodded at the both of you. “You should know by now how vital the both of you are to me right?”. The both of you nodded, not out of haughtiness, but the responsible you both bear is heavy on your shoulders. Pierro as the leader of the Harbingers, the most elite of the Szehnaya soldiers, had shown time and time again how talented he is as a leader. While you prefer to be working and supporting the Tsaritsa politically, your physical prowess and military knowledge are not any less than Pierro. The one thing that Pierro and you have in common is how much you and him influence the military power of Szehnaya, therefore, to say yours and Pierro’s presence are merely a speck would be a direct insult to the Cryo Archon.

“I have thought long and hard of the future of our country and have come to the decision that will benefit the both of you, and, of course me, greatly”. Somehow your gut twisted at whatever decision the archon have come upon but you gulped down your fear. You’re used to the Archon’s bizarre wishes anyway.

“I have decided to place the both of you on a mission to infiltrate Natlan and to locate the gnosis of the Pyro Archon”. Yes definitely, a great decision my loved archon. Despite how long the both of you have worked for the Tsaritsa, it have only been a few times that you both went on a mission. The missions were successful, but the process of the mission was horrendous.

You could still vividly remember the first time the Queen had instructed the both of you on a mission; to increase the Fatui soldier’s loyalty and passion for the country. You and Pierro thought hard on what to do but the thought of working together just pisses Pierro so much, that he accidentally vented to Columbina. Columbina being the sweetheart she is, suggested that the both of you showcase your strengths to the soldiers. When Pierro came to you with the suggestion, you refused at first but Pierro taunted you by saying I supposed a youngling like you couldn’t possibly win against the likes of me. That definitely taunted you.

The plan become much more complex when you reported to the Tsaritsa of Pierro’s suggestion. The queen agreed immediately as she suggested that the battle shall be showcase to the whole nation. You were going to refuse but the look on her majesty’s face was filled with so much excitement, you could only sigh as you went on to plan for the eventful day.

On the day, Pierro was proven how wrong yet how right he is. He’s right that you’re a youngling, what he’s wrong is how strong of a youngling you are. Pierro and you stood on the vast ground, a few meters away from each other. The fight begins with the declaration from the queen, and it ensues for only 30 minutes because of how catastrophic it was. Pierro and you both display such strength that burns the fire in the soldiers’ hearts and strengthen the faith of the people. The battle was so intense that the Tsaritsa had to personally intervened before the both of you accidentally kill each other. The day was later passed on as the day of the Undefeatable Forces.

So, this idea from the queen might become another catastrophe, in someone else’s country.

“This decision was made because I’ve seen how poorly the both of you treat each other. To avoid future misunderstandings, this mission would be a great opportunity to drain any bad blood between the both of you. Is that understood?”. The both of you could feel the coldness and demanding tone of the queen, as a synchronized ‘understood’ resounded through the chamber.

“To ensure that the both of you don’t kill each other, I have also decided on placing a companion, as a mediator. Please come in”. Now, Pierro have an intuitive goosebump when it comes to this particular, young man.

“Hello my dear lovely seniors! I have come to mediate the burning”, Childe wiggles his eyebrows, “passion! between the both of you”. Indeed, the Tsaritsa is wise. Pierro and you groan and turns around, 2 pair of eyes greeted with the wide smile of Childe. Pierro had to close his eyes, and pinch the bridge of his nose; controlling his breathing because of course out of the many people, Childe, the constant cause of his headache is the one mediating the both of you. The mission is going to be one hell of a mission.

The meeting ended shortly after the Cryo Archon explain in detail of when they should go, as well as much further detail on what the mission is truly about. She reminded us again to be ‘nicer’ to each other. The mission is the be carried on in three days’ time, so everyone will have enough time to prepare and delegate tasks to subordinates.

Three days had passed and you dreaded the day of the mission every single moment ever since. You had packed enough for you to last for a month, and had thought that you will just buy your other needs later at Natlan. You were waiting for Pierro and Childe, while placing your cargo into the carriage.

“Good morning, Mis (y/n)!”. You were sheathing your swords back to its sheath when you saw the figure of two tall man walking over to you.

“Good morning, Childe, are you ready?”. Childe nodded and explained how he asked for Pierro’s opinion whether he should bring his sword or his polearm, and you nodded at him, trying to understand his rambling on how he couldn’t just choose any weapon. Your eyes fell upon Pierro and both of you frowned at each other, but then was reminded of the other mission. So Pierro give you a curt nod which you acknowledged.

It took 5 days for the band to reach Natlan and surprisingly, both you and Pierro only argued for a little of time. Mainly on petty stuff like the road, but again, surprisingly, Childe’s presence eases the arguments by giving the both of you ultimatums all the time. For example, when the company stopped to rest for the day, you and Pierro fought on whether the company should rest near the forests or the rivers, thankfully, since Childe was there, he immediately and playfully suggested that either we separate on our own way or we can travel a bit further and stay in an inn that he frequent. The voice raising match instantly subside with a huff, and a shaking of Childe’s head at how childish his superiors could be.

Once the team reaches Natlan, you immediately instructed Childe to find accommodation while Pierro also asked him to immediately book for a meeting room, so that once the team finishes scouting the area; a meeting will immediately commence. Throughout, the few days of the mission, the subordinates have come to a conclusion of how perfectly in sync you and Pierro are. What surprises them more is how professional both you and Pierro could be as the usual banter were placed with serious discussion and mutual agreements.

This is not surprising to you though, since Pierro understands your modus operandi as much as you did to him, therefore whenever the both of you are instructed to work side by side, the mission is a definite success. Not only that, since you’re naturally a sociable and likeable person, you prefer scouring for information on the ‘surface’, making use of your vast cultural knowledge and eloquence to get the information you needed.

While Pierro prefers to work in the shadows; going to places unthinkable by the normal people, using fists and staining the floor with red. It’s a great source of information indeed, especially on the dirty things Natlan has been covering. So, after 2 weeks, the company begun its final mission, the confirmation of where the Gnosis of the Natlan’s archon might be.

The mission begins at night and once the team reaches the place, Pierro commanded everyone to be vigilant and to scatter in two group led by Pierro and you. It took 20 minutes for you and Pierro to reach a huge door at the same time, the place possibly holding the Gnosis. Pierro blasts the door open and it took him several hits for the door to take damage. Inside were mountains of gold, and from a far you can see a light shining down on a glass boxed item which you’re sure is the Gnosis. All of a sudden, the ground shakes and stone people along with ruin guards erects, putting the whole team on standby as you scream.

“Get ready to fight!! No one dies and immediate retreat! We have reached our goal!”. The band roars as blades and elemental powers clashes.

It came out of nowhere, the double arrow stretched and you knew in mere seconds it will reach you. How careless you thought, it’s not like you’re some kind of newbie who just started learning how to traverse the battlefield, yet here you are making an absolute rookie mistake. You were bracing for the arrows to hit you when a flurry of clothes suddenly stood in front of you, and the whistling sound of the arrow turns into a crunching, sickening sound when it pierces flesh.

The man in front of you, Pierro, grunts in pain as he fell to his knees. You gasped in shocked as you quickly cast a barrier in front of him, halting the arrows coming and running towards the kneeling Pierro. You kneeled down in front of him, inspecting his wounds and thankfully both arrows only pierced his side and his arm, but what’s unfortunate is that, both arrows pierced him still. Pierro grimaces in pain as you held onto his shoulders, a surging panic coming into your system when Pierro’s wound is bleeding rather profusely.

“Shit, Pierro, I-..”.

“Calm down (y/n). Assess the situation and win the battle. I will be alright. I’ll freeze my wounds to stop the bleeding.”. Pierro’s words grounded you immediately as you nodded. A need to burn the ground up to the sky engulfs you, as you cast a barrier around Pierro.

The battle ended quickly, much to Childe’s liking, but he was satisfied to finally see the rumored Blazing Light in action. Your handling of the fire element was impeccable and again he’s reminded again of why you are the right hand of the Queen Tsaritsa. You screamed out orders to those who’s still standing to help those who are injured and find anyone who had perished.

Pierro was immediately transferred back to the hotel as to begin his healing. You were there during his transferring and when the medic team was stitching him up and healing him, you could only stood outside as you lament on your stupidity. You couldn’t help but think of the worst; things like what if Pierro died today. Then your mind wanders to your relationship with Pierro.

It wasn’t always this bad, if anything, you used to look up to him a lot and when you came in, Pierro was respectful to you. You remembered the day you and Pierro could actually laugh together, but it all were destroyed when you and Pierro went on a mission for the first time.

He was strict, and you were still weak and wet behind the ears. So, you did some mistakes that could endanger the whole team, which you admitted but Pierro got so angry at you and told you that you will never amount to anything. After that mission, the both of you stray away from each other, him, too proud to admit he was too harsh while you burning with the passion to prove him wrong.

And wrong was he proven when you emerged to be the Tsaritsa right hand, her direct aide. Pierro was proud, that the youngling had become a prominent character, but the bad blood between the both of you had become too thick.

You could hear the doctor telling Pierro that he will be bandaging his arms and he is instructed to get some rest. Upon hearing that, you walked in, avoiding Pierro’s face as you asked the medical team to leave as you will be helping Pierro to bandage his arm. The doctor nods as he packs up his items and leave. Once the door closes, you silently walk towards Pierro and sit down beside him on the bed. You took the bandage as you took his hand, and places it on your lap, so you can wrap the bandage.

You’re not sure what to say, or the right word to utter, and you can’t even look at his face because you knew, the guilt is swarming in your eyes. You can’t also help but be reminded of your first mission. You inspected his arm and the wound had been stitched but you knew how painful it must have been, you had experienced it before. So, you could only silently wrap the bandage while thinking of the words to say.

What you don’t know is how intensely Pierro is staring at you from the beginning you came in, until you sat down beside him. Pierro knows what you’re thinking and he wanted to deny them but he waited. Once you finished, you let your hands fell on your lap, where Pierro’s hand still stays. Gently, you took his hand, rubbing the palm with your thumb; the action startled Pierro a bit but he stays patient. This is the first time you were ever this handsy with him.

“Why did you take the hit?”. You finally asked, voice a bit wobbly after trying so hard to swallow your feelings.

There was thick silence for a bit until Pierro answers. “Because I want to”. Pierro said in his husky, deep tone but there was a certain tiredness in it. When you heard his answer, your hand instinctively squeezes his hand as your voice raises.

“Bullshit Pierro! You could have died! You should have let me took it, I was too careless and it was my fault!”. Pierro was silent, and the silence burns your anger more as tears of frustration started to spill. You don’t exactly understand why you’re crying; you admit, you have always been an emotional person but when it comes to this old man, your emotions had always been those of anger and annoyance. Yet here you are tearing over anger, annoyance, guilt and care.

“Why are you being quiet for?! Fucking speak! Tell me that I was being careless-”.

“Well do you want me to see you with blood all over?”. Pierro voiced loudly as your eyebrows scrunched in confusion as your eyes snapped towards his, and finally, you could see the intensity of Pierro’s gaze. His eyes soften when he saw your teary eyes, as he whispers. Pierro don’t understand himself, why is being so gentle, is it because of the arrows. Or maybe it’s something that he has been keeping to himself because you could have died today. The arrows were not avoidable that’s why he took it.

“I’ll take the arrows over and over again, as long as you’re save (y/n). You were not careless”. Pierro places a hand on your cheeks as he wipes away the tears from your eye.

“What…”. The sudden affection from him took you by surprise yet instead of screaming bloody murder at him, your body leans towards his touch, your lips pouted slightly, though by absolute reflex you believe. Pierro gave you a small smile, heart thumping at how cute you could be, as he speaks again.

“Finally, you’re looking at me”. A blush crept onto your face as you try to look down but he held your chin, holding your face and making sure you’re looking at him. Suddenly, the air in the room changes; a certain tension filled the air. Your hand that was squeezing Pierro are now clasped tight, his thumb rubbing on your knuckles while the thumb on your face rubbed circles on your hot cheek.

You could see Pierro glancing towards your lips and somehow you became hyper aware of your surroundings. How Pierro is actually a very handsome man, though old. How his usually well-kept hair became slightly messy, his bangs curtaining the side of his face; and how very shirtless and very delicious his body is.

The wait is agony, as Pierro leans forward his eyes glancing back and forth between your eyes and your lips, occasionally licking his lips. He had to admit, though you are an absolute menace in his day to day, he had catch himself sneaking glances at you far too many times. He convinced himself that he’s trying to make sure you’re not making any mistake. Then he caught himself admiring how you powerfully speaks and conducts the room and now his every being is screaming at him to stop but he can’t. You’re a delicacy, a rarity, a gem he had subconsciously wishes to keep tight.

And finally. His lips touch yours; soft, eyes closed as you deepen the kiss. Pierro parted his lips slightly and you didn’t waste any time slipping your tongue inside. Tongue clashes and you could taste the slight metallic taste of blood but you couldn’t care. Your hand on his chest, as his hand on your cheek slips past your ears and tightens around your hair, forcing you to grunt, allowing him to give you more.

He pulled your body close, his chest flush on yours as he places both his hand on your waist, slowly inching upwards and creating goosebumps on your skin. You unlatch your lips from him, heavily breathing with your face flush. Your sensual look sends Pierro over the edge as adrenaline spikes and pushes you to the bed, laying kisses on your necks. Your hand reaches for his hair as you moaned when he sucked on a sensitive spot on your neck.

“Pierro…”. You whispered as he stops and stares at you, a hunger deep in his eyes.

“Shh… let me take care of you”. Pierro murmur, as he leans down, when all of a sudden, the door swung open and an abomination call Childe came in.

“Sir, how is your wou… Oh”. It was clear as day what you were doing, the position itself was a given tell of the activities ensuing. Childe’s face changed from astound to amused immediately as you sighed while Pierro tried shielding you.

“What the hell do you want Ajax”. Oh no Childe thought, Pierro used his real name and usually he would be terrified because Pierro only uses his name when he’s in deep trouble but he knew that his leader is not going to do much towards him. Not when the object of his secret obsession is finally in his hands. Childe smiled cheekily as he places a hand on the door knob.

“Oh! Absolutely nothing my wonderful Sir, the matter shall be spoken tomorrow”. As he was going to close the door, he threw a wink and a thumbs up. “Have fun!!”. A giggling Childe skips off.

Pierro sighed as he apologises and he was expecting you to be angry yet you giggled and pecks his lip. He was trying to continue where the both of you left off when you place a finger on his lips.

“I think you need to rest, you’re a wounded soldier”.

“It doesn’t even hurt (y/n)”. You laughed as you guided him to lay beside you which he reluctantly allows but he still wanted to continue.

“Though it doesn’t hurt, a wound need to properly heal”. You explain as you stood up and pats down your clothes and fixes your hair. You went over to the side of the bed and sits down at the little space close to him.

“But-”.

“Pierro, again, you’re wounded and I don’t want to risk anything”. You then lean down and kisses his cheek as you whisper in his ear. “Besides… we can continue this when you’re all stronger and energized…”. Your whisper seductively, placing a kiss on his lips while palming his chest.

Once you wished him good night and closes the door quietly, Pierro swears that he’s going to ask the Tsaritsa for a potion to increase the healing of one’s body because he can’t wait anymore. You shall be his.

EXTRA SCENE

The Tsaritsa had called for you and Pierro to the throne room, and there the both of you were kneeling down. The queen then asked for the both of you to raise and be at ease, when you saw Childe standing beside her majesty. The icy glare of the queen reaches you and Pierro as she asks.

“So, when will the wedding happen?”.

Once your brain understands her question, you cursed at Childe for his tattletale ass, while your face reddens. Pierro coughs in surprise as he eyes Childe who immediately avoided his gaze.

“I shall discuss it with (y/n) soon, and we will inform you, your majesty”.

Your head whipped to the side at Pierro’s answer because yeah, the both of you did continue your halted activities, a bit too many times, and you’re not complaining but marriage? Well, you’re still not complaining.

“Great!”. The queen exclaimed delightfully as she dismisses the both of you and turns to Childe.

“Ajax, we shall discuss further who the baby will look after”. The Tsaritsa voice.

“Definitely not the father your Majesty”.

Pierro could feel his blood bubbling as you place a hand on his back, rubbing it to calm him down.

“I swear I’ll behead that kid”. You could only chuckle as you listen to the old man, your old man grumbles on how insolent Childe have been recently while you thank the ginger for bringing the both of you together.

#pierro x reader #pierro x y/n #genshin impact pierro #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fic #genshin fanfic #genshin drabbles #fatui harbingers x reader #pierro

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jerzwriter · 10 months

Text

Demands, Obligations, and Loyalty

What happened when everyone left the room, and Trystan was left with the King and Queen?

Book: Crimes of Passion (Book 2)

Pairing: Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose)

Characters: Queen Viktoria, King Maksim, Vasili Thorne

Category: Missing Scene - Ch. 4

Rating: Teen

Series Summary: I think one scene could have been expanded on, one should have been added, and one could have been better. So, I took a stab at it (pun intended ).

Part Two: The King has announced that Trystan will be reinstated as the heir to the throne, and the Queen has ordered everyone out of the room so the arrangements can commence. Shocked and angered, Trystan isn't about to take this lying down, but does he have a chance?

Words: 2,200

A/N: I sure wanted to know what took place during that conversation, and this is how I imagined it went. I hope you enjoy it. The final part of this little series will be a rewrite of Trystan & Carolina's conversation that took place at the end of Chapter 4.

Series Masterlist | Crimes of Passion Masterlist | Full Masterlist

A room always feels larger when it’s empty. Moments ago, Trystan's siblings filled the room he was standing in, accompanied by all the bickering that came with them. It was suffocating; he was sure there wasn’t enough oxygen for everyone to breathe, and he longed for an escape. But once the door closed, with Marguerita and Carolina the last to go, the room felt cavernous. Every tick of the clock echoed off the walls. The silence overwhelming. The world had changed immeasurably in just a minute, with only one thing remaining the same: escape was all that Trystan desired.

His eyes remained glued to the door, perhaps dreaming of an exit, perhaps hoping a friendly face would walk in. But Trystan knew better. The wicked queen had given her orders, and no one would dare to defy her. His heart raced, and his hands balled into fists as he recalled the moments leading up to now. They couldn’t be this audacious, could they?

Queen Viktoria stood on the far side of the room without a care for her son. But King Maksim couldn’t ignore his distress. With a furrowed brow, he closed the gap between them, reaching for Trystan’s shoulder, but his son pushed his hand away.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t pretend to comfort me! If you had any desire to help you, you’d put an end to this!”

“Trystan, what would you have me do?”

“Something! Anything! You’re the KING, for Christ’s sake! You could do something! That is if you hadn’t been castrated by Mother!”

“Trystan, enough!” His father snapped. “You were taken out of the line of succession for one reason, which has now been resolved. Did you believe there would be a different outcome? You...we are beholden to this nation! We all have to make sacrifices!” The older man’s head moved toward his wife’s portrait, hanging to his side. “Myself included. But you can build a good life for yourself, son. A life of privilege that most would kill to have. What are you looking for out there that you couldn’t find here?”

“What am I... what am I looking for? Freedom! Freedom from all of you! Don't lecture me about responsibility! I grew up knowing one day I’d be king, and I had every intention of serving Drakovia with honor. But you stole that from me! You cast me out and abandoned me at the lowest point of my life. You took my birthright, my home, my family... the only life I knew and sent me a world away. I was forced to create a new life for myself, and I did. Now... I’m finally happy... truly happy... and you dare to steal my life from me again!”

Maksim sighed deeply and tapped his son’s shoulder, a sad smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, son. But this is how it is going to be.”

“Maksim!” Viktoria beckoned from across the way. “Can you step outside with me for a moment? We need to confer on a couple matters in private.”

Trystan collapsed into an armchair as his father walked away, biting into his fist in an attempt to quell his growing anger when he heard a gentle click. He turned to the opening door, hoping for the face of an ally, but it was Vasili who entered the room. He approached his brother with a look of sincerity that Trystan didn’t buy for a moment.

“Trystan, I saw our father and the queen step out, so I assumed it was safe to come in. I haven’t had much time with you since you’ve been home. It’s good to have you back.”

“Spare me,” Trystan scoffed. “Your feelings about me were glaringly obvious over the past eight years. And if there were any doubt in my mind, you solidified it yesterday in court.”

“The past eight years haven’t been easy on anyone,” Vasili countered. “But... in addition to being my brother, you’re also my future king. Drakovia and its people mean everything to me, so it’s in my best interest to ensure you are a good monarch. As such, you have my loyalty and support.”

Trystan shook his head with a sardonic laugh. “I don’t want it. I don’t want it at all! The only thing I want is to get as far away from here as I can!”

Vasili smiled mockingly and continued. “I’ve had people check on you when you were in New York. Believe whatever you wish, but your welfare did matter to me. They always reported that you were surviving, though living or thriving would have been an exaggeration. It made sense. A man without a home is never a happy man, and Drakovia is your home, even if it’s less than perfect. I believe you would have jumped at the opportunity to return a year ago.”

“Yeah,” Trystan replied sadly, “well, a lot can change in a year.”

Vasili poured a drink from an elegant crystal decanter with a knowing smirk.

“I don’t blame you. She’s beautiful. Beautiful in a very natural, unaffected way. Like she isn’t even trying and doesn’t realize how stunning she is, which only makes her more attractive. She’s clearly bright, a little rough around the edges, but still quite charming. I’ve admired her from afar during the past year, and since she’s landed in Drakovia, I can only say I’m even more impressed. I understand what you see in her, Trystan. She’s a remarkable woman... she reminds me of another remarkable woman we both knew.”

“Don’t bring Juliana into this...”

“Why? Why shouldn’t I? She’s likely rolling in her grave right now. Unlike you, she loved this country and its people. She was well aware of its flaws, but she loved it anyway. She was willing to do anything to make it the nation she knew it could be. When you first became betrothed, I never saw it working. You were as vapid as she was exceptional. But she saw something in you... and by the time she died, I truly thought she made you a better person. I believed you when you said you wanted to make Drakovia a better place.”

Trystan stared thoughtfully out a window, swallowing hard to rid himself of the lump growing in his throat.

“Well... a lot died with Juliana.”

“But you didn’t, and her dreams didn’t. She's not here to make them a reality anymore, but what's your excuse? I can understand the desire to leave the bad memories behind. I can even understand wanting to put an ocean between you and our queen. You could live a happy, carefree life with your new love at your side. But in doing so, you betray the memory of the former.”

“Don’t say that!” Trystan replied through clenched teeth.

“Why? Am I lying? You’re in the position to finish the work Juliana started. You could become the benevolent leader she believed you would be. Freedom? This freedom that you speak of, do you wish to hoard it for yourself? Or to give it to our people? How do you want history to remember you? How would you like Juliana to see you?”

Trystan remained silent, deeply impacted by his brother’s words.

“Your mother will be back momentarily. I’ll take my leave... I’m certain you have much to think about.”

Trystan continued staring out the window into the gardens where he played as a child, where he retreated for an escape as an adolescent, and where he began to fall in love with Juliana as a young man. Lost in his memories, he didn’t hear his parents return. His mother barked orders to aides, as oblivious to him as he was to her. But his father attempted to get through to him once more.

“Come on, son,” he whispered sympathetically. “You must have known that you’d be expected to return to the throne if you were acquitted?”

“Forgive me, Father, but I assumed the trial was such a foregone conclusion and acquittal an impossibility. So I never allowed myself to see a scenario beyond it.”

“You had some great people on your side,” Maksim smiled. “Now you’ve been spared prison; you should rejoice.”

“Rejoice? Rejoice?!” Trystan spat as anger rose again. “Yes, I have some wonderful people on my side, Marguerite being the only Thorne amongst them! And prison? The acquittal didn’t spare me prison, Father. It merely exchanged one prison for another."

“SILENCE!” Viktoria yelled from across the room as Trystan returned her steely gaze. She walked toward him with an ominous air, the fabric of her gown rustling with each measured step she took.

“I remember the day you were born,” she hissed. “You were less than five minutes old when you were taken from me. You were bathed and placed in ornamental robes for your introduction to Drakovia. Your introduction to the country you were born to serve.”

“What a lovely story, Mother. It might have been nice to have been born into a family as well.”

“You were born into a family,” Maksim interrupted, but Viktoria spoke over him.

“You were born to serve your country!”

“My country? The very country that abandoned me when I needed it most? A country... a family that believed I would murder anyone, much less the woman I loved and planned to spend my life with!”

“Dear son,” Viktoria smirked. “Do you think my memory is failing? I assure you it’s not. I remember how you carried on like the entitled brat you are when we told you that you were to marry Juliana. I believe referring to her as the woman you loved is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“How dare you!” Trystan spat, his face red with fury. “You know damn well neither Juliana nor I wanted any part of the political bargaining our parents engaged in! We commiserated about it, but in that misery, we became friends, then... much more. You know damn well that I loved her, and she loved me. But perhaps I’m giving you too much credit! How could I expect you to recognize an emotion you've never experienced in your life!”

Viktoria looked to her husband for support, but Maksim merely shrugged.

“Did you study theater in exile, dear boy? Because your flair for the dramatic is quite impressive. Impressive but unconvincing. Let me be crystal clear... you are the crown prince of Drakovia, and you will fulfill your obligations. Consider the last eight years a gift.”

“A gift! A gift!” He hollered. “I was shamed, vilified, humiliated, cut off from everyone I knew, and forced to live in exile. And you consider that... a gift?”

“Well,” she smiled with a raised brow, “you seem so eager to return to it. Why would I assume it was anything but? But that gift came with an expiration date, and that day is today. I see I have my work cut out for me to return you to the proper form for your role. We don’t have a moment to spare.”

Trystan looked to his father with pleading eyes, desperate for assistance. But Maksim just turned away. Unaffected, his mother sat behind a guilded desk and began issuing orders.

“The declarations are being drawn up as we speak. You will formally sign them within the next few days. While this scenario is unprecedented, I feel some sort of commemorative ceremony is in order. It’s important for the people to feel connected and to understand who will be in charge. Aida!” She called, and an older woman quickly rushed over. “Please go to the vault and retrieve the heirloom silks for Trystan’s robes. Alexi! Start on the public relations campaign. See if he’s done anything worthwhile during the past eight years and highlight it. I’m sure you can spin this into a fairy tale. Margot...”

“NO!” Trystan yelled. “Stop this all! You don’t get to order me around! You lost the right to do so as a mother when you pawned me off to these robots to raise me, and you lost the right as my monarch when you betrayed me eight years ago! You’re not the only one with power, Mother. I will have my lawyers look into this as well!”

“Your lawyers,” she chuckled. “I hope it’s someone other than the pretty little thing with the fake blonde highlights you picked up in New York. Come on, son, her legal expertise is as fake as her hair color. You’re lucky I allowed things to proceed as they did in court.”

“Do not talk about Carolina,” he seethed.

Viktoria waved her hand in dismissal.

“I don’t have time for this. Do you want to turn your back on your country, your birthright? You will do it at your own peril. Are you foolish enough to think you can escape? That I wouldn’t make your life a living hell from an ocean away? You’d be begging for a Drakovian prison when I was done with you. I’m sorry, but you won’t be getting a pretty little... what do they call it? Romcom ending with your little fling. Because if you choose her over Drakovia, I’ll see to it that neither of you has a day of happiness for as long as I live.”

Trystan rose to his feet, slamming his fist on his mother's desk.

“Don’t you dare threaten Carolina!”

“Don’t you dare threaten me!”

Viktoria stood up in defiance and stomped away, her entire staff following quick at her feet. Then Lydea entered the room as if on queue.

“Don’t get any ideas, big brother,” she smiled sadistically as she stroked her sword. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

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