#royally indecent

[sandinthepipes]

Merlin is trending this merlin is trending that.

Merlin has been trending for 10 years straight. It never stopped, it's the same trend as 10 years ago. It's not a trend, it's a lifestyle.

[cosycafune]

THE KING WANTS AN HEIR! SO, GIVE HIM ONE.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

the king is an insatiable man, whose sexual urges know no bounds when it comes to you. however, seeing you naively interact with another family, who’s sheltering a baby, stirs primal urges within him. naturally, he wants to stuff you until you’re broken, pregnant and heavily swollen with his precious baby. after all, the king needs an heir. 5.7k words.

jjk men. acts: unprotected sex, double penetration, rough sex, gentle sex, breeding kink, corruption kink, missionary, excessive creampies, mating press, riding, angry sex, fingering, back shots, spanking, an arranged marriage, sukuna being hungry, sex in front of a mirror, and potentially other acts. masterlist.

jjk men: satoru gojo, toji fushiguro, kento nanami, suguru geto, choso kamo and sukuna. a/n: to that one miserable anon, enjoy. happy three months to this blog. art by sakimenz on patreon.

satoru gojo

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Cornered, pinned beneath Satoru, you gasp. No escape lingered as his knee grinds against your sensitive clit, increasing the embarrassing slickness within your underwear. The look within Satoru’s eyes screamed urgency, longing, need and to obliterate you to satisfy his salacious appetite completely.

“S-Sato’, what is it?” Meekly, flaunting naivety, you question Satoru while battering your lashes – caged by his intent.

Questioned your king, knowing his lustful eyes hold unshakable authority, you obediently succumbed to Satoru’s intimidating gaze.

“I want a royal heir. Now,” Urgently speaking, Satoru furrows his brows – picking at the ends of your regal dress.

“Use me, my king,” At Satoru’s disposal, you pour your deepest desire out – your doe eyes glimmering with the art of corruption.

“As you wish, my Queen,” Toned with smugness, Satoru responds to your submissiveness – increasingly aroused by your naivety.

To think you’d have him take you so quickly, giving him unlimited access to you.

“Show me how much you want that heir, my love,” Intrigued, sculpted by his whims of degradation, Satoru greedily commands you – unsatisfied by the lack of contact.

“A-Ah! Y-Yes, my king,” Steered by Satoru’s knee obliterating your arousal-webbed clit, you subconsciously blurt out your desires – shelving your queen-like traits.

Right now, you’re a beautiful worshipper for him.

“When we’re done, I will get you pregnant,” Devoted, Satoru’s eyes and statement warn you – gifting you a chance to back out before he grows crazed.

“P-Please! N-need to be swollen with your baby, so everyone can… see I’m yours,” Ego-less, you spout out your heart – compelled by Satoru’s knee driving into your sensitive cunt.

“Hm, to see if you can handle it, let me stuff you with my fingers,” Sadistically grinning, Satoru deviously mutters in your ear – biting the curve of your sensitive ear.

“Ngh! I’ll handle it,” Pleading with Satoru, you instantly shudder at his plump lips brushing against your ear – his troubled breaths staining your hearing.

“Be as loud as you want, no one will bother the Queen and King,” Chalant, Satoru gruffly informs you – quelling his deepest urge to tear you apart and stuff you so indecently.

Unfit against the thought of teasing you, Satoru gathers you in his arms – quickness tinting his skilled muscles. Nothing in him could resist your pouty, adrenaline-stricken state. It wasn’t every moment where his satiable queen would remain before him, her regal dress being stained with an intimate scandal – propped up for his greedy sexual urges. All Satoru dreams of is stuffing you beyond comprehension, drowning you out with his cum and riddling you dumb, helpless and dependent.

“D-Don’t hold back, Sato’,” Naively mumbling something provoking, your heart seizes at Satoru’s beast-like gaze falling on you – predatory.

“I’m fine with that, but don’t act as if I’ll show you mercy,” Licking his lips, Satoru grows prideful at his deep tone vibrating against your cuddled self – promoting your power difference.

“Show me that,” Controlled by your taunting, Satoru quickly rushes you towards your tempting bed – shoving you beneath his large, burly frame.

“Ah, be careful what you wish for,” Humming through his lustful speech, Satoru instinctively grabs your exposed underwear – tearing it apart in a hurry quicker than the human eye.

“You beast,” Taunting Satoru with trembling anticipation, you puff out your cheeks – delirious at your bare, slick cunt exposed to the world.

“I’ll show you one, my love,” Buzzing, Satoru pours his lips against your soppy cunt – stuffing his tongue between your writhing folds.

Throwing your head back instinctively, Satoru loudly begins to ravish you – his ample fingers prodding against your screaming cunt. If Satoru buries his celestial fingers inside your cunt, he knew he’d have finally conquered you – as your sanity flitted each time his fingers invaded your cunt. To him, that’s checkmate – prompting his beautiful breeding kink. Seeing you so submissive would alter him, triggering his attempts to leave you pregnant and reliant on him.

Captured by Satoru’s fingers hungrily flooding your cunt, you arch your back – tainted and clouded by Satoru’s invasive presence. Bandaged with every element of him, you pant recklessly. Your cognitive functions are puppets for Satoru’s show, leaving him ruling over your pleasure-stricken body – tearing apart your dress and leaving you nude before you could notice.

A starved fiend, that’s what he is.

“I just want to fuck you,” Hungrily slurping up your obedient cunt, Satoru mumbles – pussy struck whilst he thrusts his thick fingers into your begging cunt.

“Ah! Yes!” Embarrassingly near to cumming, decorated with warmth, you scream without a care in the world – unable to handle Satoru’s fingers and warm tongue ramming against you.

“Taste…so good,” Rutting his erection against your wealthy blankets, Satoru hungrily samples every aspect of you – voicing his love for your cunt.

“‘M gonna,” Warm, extremely dizzy, you glance down at Satoru – arching at his fingers pulverising your gushing walls.

“Quicker you do…quicker I get to put a baby in you,” Satisfied, purring through his sloppy speech, Satoru casts himself into picking up his pace – thrusting his fingers the deepest he could.

“Ngh! Y-Yes!” Conducted by your release, you pant vigorously – unable to control your beast-like breathing at finishing so roughly.

All you could sense was Satoru’s smug expression.

“Now, it’s my turn,” Bombarded with thrill, Satoru casts himself into uttering — using an ounce of his cursed technique to shed his clothes with urgency.

“Desperation has… never looked this good on you,” Grinning, you murmur to Satoru with fatigue — unable to counter the anticipation that lingers.

Unwilling to throw away a second, Satoru cast himself into grasping his cock — running his thick tip against your soppy cunt. Angelicness tints his deceitful features, leaving him a mess — his ears warming at being so close to you. So close to ruining you, moments away from stuffing you with a child — through his fruitful seed.

“‘Need ya,” Hazy, Satoru breathily whimpers — casting himself into rutting his thick cock into your awaiting cunt.

“Hgh!” Crying out, your eyes frantically roll back — consumed by Satoru’s monstrous cock breaking into you.

Gasping, unable to control your array of moans, you grip Satoru’s hand — attempting to control your movements. Being pinned beneath Satoru’s body of an enclosure, you grunt, whimper and howl towards his large cock splitting apart your cunt. 

“F-Fuck! ‘Missed this,” Vanquished by sexual relief, Satoru moans out his sentence — needily shoving more of his cock into you.

“S-Sato’!” Reigned by the king, you’re suffocated by Satoru’s warmth, his essence, his fat cock and his overbearing lust.

“You’re…begging, at this point,” Fruitfully stuffing you, Satoru makes room to taunt you — gleeful at your physique crumbling before his cock.

“Y-Yeah,” Mentally out of it, you cloudily respond to Satoru — being pounded by his relentless cock.

Naturally, Satoru’s a relentless conqueror.

“My…precious, wife,” Fittingly, Satoru picks up his relentless pace — fulfillingly finishing inside of you without an ounce of shame.

“S-So…soon?” Slightly confused, you question Satoru — only to be knocked out of it by his thick cock pulverising you entirely again.

“H-Hard holding back,” Panting vigorously, Satoru lovingly glances down at you — kissing your pillowy lips.

“We have all night, don’t stop,” Encouraging Satoru, you hazily encourage him — trembling at the intensity of his cumshot.

“Of course, I’m not done,” Vouching that he’d ruin you, Satoru beautifully informs you.

toji fushiguro

«───── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

Accompany Toji by his throne, on your knees before him, you glance up at him. Naively, you flaunt your doe eyes — mystique and intrigue tinting you. Usually, Toji would never command you to situate yourself before him — nude, degraded and a royal shell of yourself. 

“Is there a reason why we’re both naked, angrily staring at each other?” Questioning your husband,  staring up at his large cock, you settle it between your pliant fingers.

“Because you haven’t given me a damn baby yet,” Furrowing his brows, Toji roughly proclaims his thoughts — gritting his teeth at your hold movement.

“That’s why you were so angry when you saw that family?” Playfully taunting Toji, you plant yourself into circling his pre-cum coated tip — intrigued by his fruitful emotions.

“Yeah, since I’m tryna have everyone see you pregnant and just mine,” Grunting pensively, Toji trembles at your thumb harshly pressing against his thick tip.

“That’s why you told me to strip and meet you in the throne room?” Innocently asking Toji, you flaunt your doe eyes — admiring his twitching cock.

“Why else? So we could dance or whatever?” Angered by your false naivety, Toji snaps back at you — only for his eyes to flutter at each sway of your thumb.

“I’ll dance on your cock, if that’s what makes the kingdom’s moody king happy,” Scoffing, you teasingly respond to Toji — hovering your warm lips before his cockhead.

“First, you’ll show me that you deserve that baby,” Raising your brow at Toji’s demand, you prettily grin, “Then, I’ll stuff you until the kingdom has a damn heir.” Enchanted by Toji’s skilled determination, you admire his vexed expression — along with his rising mouth scar.

“I’ll ruin you, King Fushiguro,” Regally threatening Toji, you allow your lips to linger above Toji’s tip — your warm breaths frustrating him.

“Hurry, then,” Increasing his attention towards you, Toji applies his cursed speech within your ear — eagerly clinging to the throne.

“My, my, my king’s so impatient,” Confidently speaking, you teasingly kiss Toji’s massive cock-head — observing him puddle before you.

“Fuck, woman,” Defeated by your celestial lips, Toji mutters subconsciously — intensely watching you softly lick his tip.

“Hmm, look how desperate you are,” Grinning through your words, you finally cave into Toji — smushing your lips around Toji’s reddened tip.

“C’mon,” Impatiently pushing you, Toji grits his teeth at your insufferable teasing — annoyed at you depriving him of pleasure.

“Patience, my dear,” Resisting the urge to rub your dripping cunt, you shakily mutter to Toji — focusing on him.

Gently, you begin to pour Toji’s veiny cock into your mouth — pushing your head down to accommodate him. Filling your thin cheeks with Toji’s cock, you begin to constantly suck — using your soft hands to stroke his left-over length.

“S-So…good,” Submitting to your intoxicating warmth, Toji blurts out his heart — his fingers itching to throat-fuck a skilled you.

“D-Don’t cum,” Warning Toji, you cast yourself into bobbing your head recklessly — entertained by Toji writhing beneath you.

You always sucked him so good.

“C-Can’t…promise,” Quivering beneath you, Toji gasps at you vulgarly engulfing him — completely stealing his you-tainted soul.

“‘Need it…inside,” Messily speaking, you watch Toji’s flustering eyes — controlled by his fingers gripping onto your prepped curls.

“Give…you… all of it,” Unable to think straight, Toji lazily responds to you — bucking his hips into your mouth without any regard.

“Y-You’re…twitching,” Ruined by Toji inhumanely slamming his hips into your mouth, you plead for air — teary and destroyed by his subconscious pace.

“G-Gonna—”

“N-No,” Pulling your mouth back, you bluntly answer Toji — getting up from your knees and facing him.

Observing an enraged Toji, you cast yourself into wickedly grinning. Grinning before you straddle him on his throne, carrying not an ounce of shame. Shame towards his tension-build self, unwilling to shed the cocky facade you exhibit.

“Don’t act so mad, you want a baby,” Teasing Toji, you accustom yourself into openly taunting him — rutting your hips against his sensitive cock-head.

“I’m taking… control,” Panting recklessly, Toji narrows his eyes while he asserts dominance — grabbing his intimidating cock.

“Don’t make me regret it,” Instantly regretting your words, you cry out as Toji aligns himself — mercilessly sinking you onto his hefty cock.

“O-Oh!” Meeting Toji’s eyes, you naively moan — your eyes painfully rolling back at him filling out your stomach.

“‘M not getting…blue balls,” Satisfied, Toji thrusts so deeply within you — unwilling to give you time to recover from plunging on him.

As petty reparations, Toji manhandles you — grasping your ass cheeks and forcing you to take more. Take more before he pounds into you cruelly, throwing his head back at your strained moans and surrendered state.

Expanding his sadistic tendencies, Toji grins at his cock throbbing effortlessly — taunting your sensitive cunt further. It doesn’t help that you’re foolishly close to reaching your breaking point, never being one who’s capable of handling riding him. However, Toji grows uncaring — kissing against your cervix before he swarms your gummy walls with his bucket-loads of cum.

“Ah!” Yelping at Toji’s hurricane-like cumming, you almost collapse against him — only for him to cloudily chuckle at this revolutionary moment.

“Think…I’d go easy on you?” Barely able to question you, Toji’s enveloped by you tightening around him — embarrassingly cumming from him finishing too hard inside of you.

“N-No…don’t stop,” Engulfed by Toji’s essence, you plead for him to not stop, “We have all day, fill me up as long as you like.” Mentally finished, you continue to mewl and release lewd sounds — contained by Toji filling up your abdomen.

“Hmm, we’re gonna have a baby,” Hazily glancing at you, Toji lowly speaks — granting you a strained kiss.

—

kento nanami

«── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

Situated in the kitchen with Kento, you tremble at him pressing against you — pretending to grab an ingredient for you. Lately, Kento had grown increasingly needy — yearning for you around ovulation. This increasing urge haunted you, leaving you his manhandled rag doll. You were always moments away from being folded into a mating press and drilled by him, no matter where.

“Kento, you’re awfully needy,” Calming down your nerves, you chuckle with your speech — accidentally dropping your knife for apple pie.

“I can just…smell that you’re ovulating,” At Kento’s flustered truth, you gasp at his erection prodding against your bubble butt.

“And what?” Bending down to grab your knife, you counter Kento — smearing your cunt against his erection.

“F-Fuck, that…means I’m ready to fulfil our chances of having an heir,” Grunting, Kento trembles while he speaks.

A mess, Kento caresses your bubble butt — gently humping your bent-over state. Absolutely nothing, but your consent, could pull Kento away from your arched self. Fuck, Kento knew you were tempting him — smashing against his erection to provoke him. To push the king into ruining you in the royal kitchen, close to ruining your regal reputation.

“If you can eat me out from behind, I’ll let you fold me in a mating press,” Before you could finish your sentence, Kento already tore your day's attire and underwear.

He’d have to buy you a new pair.

“You damn beast,” Taunting Kento, you attempt to quell your prominent submission — steadying yourself against the marble counter.

“J-Just can’t resist… your sweet smell,” Unable to contain his inner savagery, Kento lightly mutters — hypnotised by your soppy cunt.

“C-Careful, anyone can walk by and in, Kento,” Rather panicky, you tremble towards Kento’s greedy tongue slotting between your folds.

“I’m the king and you’re the queen, I don’t care,” Kento proclaims, arching you further. Comfortably on his knees, Kento drinks up your squelchy cunt — lapping up your strings of arousal.

Whining, erect, Kento’s expression strains at being unable to relish you properly. Therefore, he provokes you — shoving his gluttonous face between your thighs. Even as your legs grow unsteady, Kento uses a large hand of his to keep you upward — facing the royal window and pretending to be calm as people walk by.

Kento could sense they knew something was up.

“Hgh! r-ruin…me,” Fixating on your words, Kento roughens his tongue's pace — burying his fingers into your gentle ass. As if he would go easy on you, especially with your ovulation.

“You don’t have… to ask me twice,” Smitten, Kento eagerly responds to you — content at you growing seconds away from finishing.

“D-Don’t know…if I can! Ahhh!” Crying out, you vigorously cum against Kento’s tongue — overwhelmed and drawn out by the entirety of him.

“Hmm, so sensitive,” Content, Kento comments on your current condition — happily lowering your vulnerable physique to the ground.

“T-Take me, Ken’,” Surrendering to Kento, you lovingly speak — fatigued at his intense eating.

“Of course,” Licking his lips, Kento answers — swiftly disregarding the bottom half of his clothing.

“Can’t believe…we’re gonna fuck on the kitchen floor,” Content, you voice your spirit to Kento. Intrigued, you peek at Kento — quickly releasing his thick cock.

Shifting before you, Kento casts himself into grounding his knees upon the kitchen floor — positioning himself above you. Enthralled by your cunt, Kento casts himself into preparing his mating press — smearing his tip against your fluttering cunt.

“Need all of you now,” Commanding, Kento rubs his cock against your folds — only to plunge into your cunt with ease.

“Ohhh!” A moaning mess, you’re silenced by Kento’s hand covering your mouth — gifting you not an ounce of time to adjust.

“Mhmm, I’ve missed that,” Feral, Kento’s cock frantically twitches — causing him to slap his hips against yours. He fills you with his cock, so deeply within you.

Controlled by your ovulation, Kento presses his cock deeply inside of you — swearing that your sweet cunt is a bottomless well. Heated, frantic and a stupid mess, Kento beautifully folds you — suffocating you with his large cock kissing against your pressured walls. Walls that accommodate him, but choke at the scary pace Kento inflicts.

Kento’s hungry and insatiable.

Thrusting at a might that captures you both, Kento groans roughly — hitting a point within you that makes both of you cum. Cum in a way that doesn’t stop him, leaving him pounding until he gets his royal heir. There’s no way he would stop, even with the two of you against the kitchen floor — so close to being stopped and caught.

The king and queen, huh?

__

suguru geto

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Surrendering to a possessive Suguru, you allow him to toy with your rosy lingerie. Monitoring him, you raise a brow — noticing the angry cloud that contains him. Usually, Suguru’s a content king. Yet, something about seeing you holding another man’s child stirred jealousy in him.

“Suguru, what’s wrong?” Confused, you question your husband — puddling at his fingers gripping your ass.

“I want a baby, but you’re too busy holding random royal’s babies,” Furrowing his brows, Suguru answers you — spanking your ass gently.

It’s obvious that he wanted to go harder. He’s angry.

“Fuck! S-So tell me what you want, Sugu’?,” Caving into Suguru’s spanking, you utter — arching at his harsh slap.

All you can hear is your ass recoiling.

“I want to fill you up with my cum, until you’re pregnant.” Comforted by your listening, Suguru voices his desires — playing with your doe eyes.

“S-Sugu’,” As you try to find the right words, Suguru holds you extremely close — his head resting against your plump breasts.

“I’d do anything to see you so full, pregnant and mine,” Trembling at the thought of filling you efficiently, Suguru harshly blabbers — gripping onto you with no intentions of freeing you.

“I’ll let you, Sugu’,” Softly speaking, you gently push your underwear to the side — noticing the mirror at your side.

“Hm, but I’ve got to prep you first,” Riddled with tension, Suguru informs you — bringing his fingers to circle your tender clit.

“Be rough because… I know you’re angry,” Mocking Suguru’s enraged state, you gasp at him pulling you into his lap — toying with your pierced clit.

“Don’t provoke me,” Suguru alerts you, prodding his fingers against your cunt — passionately kissing your parted lips.

“If I let you, King Geto, we could… have had a newborn by now—” Hazed by Suguru’s clit swirling, you lazily talk — only for your eyes to widen at him suddenly stuffing your cunt with his fingers.

“—You’re always wet, so I knew that’d shut you up,” Relentlessly muttering, Suguru jams his fingers impossibly deep — watching you attempt to pry away from him.

“‘M so…full!” Reprogrammed, you let out an outcry — burying your fingers into Suguru’s carved shoulder.

“Mhm, soon it’ll be a baby,” Hyperfixated on impregnating you, Suguru continues, “I won’t stop until you’re pregnant, flaunting your bump and nurturing an heir.” Suguru’s seriousness causes your heart to swell.

“Yes! I’ll…Yes!” Attempting to get out your point, Suguru thrusting takes away your abilities to speak.

Reprimanding you, Suguru shoots his fingers endlessly inside of you — watching your brows knit together. Seeing you battling his fingers, riddled with pleasure, left the king extremely content. 

“You dare disobey your king?” Teasing you, commending you for trying to govern your pleasure, Suguru pounds angrily into your weakened state.

Suguru knows that you’re one to cum so fast, so seeing you trying to stretch this one motivated him. 

“I-I…No…Fuck!” Trying to control your consciousness, you’re rendered useless.

 Mortified, you finish extremely fast. Your physique grows warm and your legs tremble, deemed useless at Suguru continuing to stuff his fingers into you. Your losing streak had stretched on, particularly from always cumming so quickly when he fingered you.

“Bad girl, guess I have to stuff you in front of the mirror,” Relishing your panting state, Suguru patronisingly speaks to you. 

Naturally, Suguru’s mellow at your ego being knocked down a hinge. With not a word fleeing from your lips, Suguru plants himself into slowly pulling his fingers out of your cunt — sucking them whilst maintaining excruciating eye contact.

Manhandling you, Suguru throws you onto the bed — pushing you into a rough arch. Rough arch before he harshly slaps your doughy ass, delighting in the way you recoil with pleasurable pain. His anger still hadn’t subsided, so taking it out on you — consensually — further aroused him.

“Scream as loud as you can, I want everyone to hear how our heir’ll be made,” Taunting you, Suguru hurriedly pulls off his shorts — only to come back and tear at your lingerie.

“Y-Yes!” Obedient, you agree with him — admiring your reflection in the mirror.

Smitten at your compliance, Suguru runs his cock against your yearning folds. Wickedly greeting your eyes in the mirror, Suguru stuffs your cunt without warning — basking in you almost collapsing at his movements. Nothing in him yearns to keep you stable, wrecking you until you’re a pregnant mess. 

After all, Suguru needs an heir; he’s not willing to let this fruitful moment slip from his burly fingers.

“Make sure to hold yourself up,” Mocking your cock-filled state, Suguru rams harder into you — making sure his large balls slap against your clit.

Without further notice, Suguru grips onto your hips — roughening his pace. Content at your screaming, mewls and outcries, Suguru obliterates you with his ample cock — his balls aching your sensitive clit.

“Mhhmmm!” Muffling into the sheets, you admire your tear-stained eyes in the mirror.

“G-Good…” Grunting, Suguru pounds into you without any care — in love with the way your cunt swallows all of him.

Beautifully consumed, Suguru subconsciously finishes inside of you — crushing you with his body weight to solidify the moment. Solidify the moment as you wail with pleasure, accidentally joining Suguru in the moment. After all, Suguru always got what he wanted — angry or not.

If the nocturne turns to daybreak, Suguru wouldn’t care. Even if you’re battered, ravaged and turned inwards, Suguru doesn’t care. He’s ravenous and in need of an heir.

He’d never hurt you, though.

—

choso kamo

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

Walking towards the parted bathroom, confusion floods you. Floods you as you listen to tainted grunts and love-stuffed moans. Instinctively pinpointing them as Choso’s moans, you raise a brow with confusion — unsure of what’s occurring.

“Cho’?” Sceptical, you gush out your question — pouring your scarcely robbed self against the bathroom door.

“Mhm, Y/n,” Nonchalantly speaking, you pucker your lips at the lewd sight of Choso stroking his cock — beads of sweet dousing his forehead.

“C-Cho?” Unable to stifle the thudding between your thighs, you meekly call his name — standing before an absorbed Kento.

“Y-Y/n!” Gasping, Choso’s outcries are replaced with slight terror as you’re grounded in front of him — watching him jerk himself off in your bathtub.

“N-Need some help?” Innocently asking a drowsy Choso, you watch him embarrassingly monitor you — noticing your skimpy attire.

“Yeah, but not with me, you,” Gasping at Choso’s aloofness, you gulp — meeting his semi-serious gaze.

“What is it?” Submersed in Choso’s scare statement, you respond — squishing your chubby thighs together.

“I want us to have an heir,” Blurting out his confession, Choso glances at you with hope, continuing, “I know I’m half-cursed, still struggling with human emotions, but I still want a baby with you.” Glancing at his erection, Choso observes you strip — climbing into the large bathtub.

“Fill me with one, Cho’,” Exhibiting your wealthy gaze, you let out a heartfelt answer — listening to Choso’s breathing hitch.

“Baby, I need to feel you tease me,” Almost desperate, Choso blurts out his deepest needs — flooding your heart and head with explicit lust.

“Hm, you’re so cute, King Kamo,” Teasing the king, you gently pinch your nipples — gently straddling his hopeless self.

“Should have known you’d tease…me,” Smitten, engraving your presence upon him, Choso replies — star stricken by your nude figure.

“‘M holding back,” Striving to not pounce on Choso, you lazily purr — grinding against his sensitive cock-head.

“Since when… have you held back?” Digging his fingers into your hips, Choso throatily questions you — smearing his you-deprived lips against your own.

“Never, but…I want it to last,” Confessing, you harshly whine with pleasure. Controlled by Choso’s wavering fingers sowing into your doughy ass, you arch into him — relishing the harsh marks Choso’s bound to plant.

“This is your foreplay… since we just finished having sex?” Mocking you, Choso coolly asks you — his eyes contrasting his tame demeanour.

“Yes, and I’m soaking,” Frantic for Choso’s cock, you mindlessly grind against cum-spewing tip — scarcely having time to respond.

“Mhm, you’re still covered in hickeys,” Attentive, Choso points out the obvious — helping you apply his heavenly cock to your adoring cunt.

“Need to be filled, Cho’,” Clinging to him, unafraid of the sloshing water, you whisper your deepest desire.

Nodding, monitoring your state, Choso plasters himself into descending you down on his cock. However, slightly troubled gasps flee your lips — especially from being so tender. Yet, Choso notices — faintly brushing his toned fingers against your supple cheek.

“I’ll give you everything again, my love,” Pussy-stricken, Choso's breaths become clustered with his promise — his rawest urges rubbing against you.

“I expect…nothing less from my king!” Drowning Choso with your outcries, you begin to entwine with Choso’s pace — bouncing on his cock while he bucks so viciously within you.

Whenever Choso sexually had you, he wouldn’t spare you an ounce of grace or mercy — pulverising you until the angel sang your prayers. Gentleness, whenever Choso’s lulled by your wealthy pussy, was practically nonexistent. Seeing you sit against him, your pretty, perky breasts bouncing, it made Choso lose any grasp of his morals. Morals at seeing you desperate for him, unable to pull away.

“L-Look…at my girl,” Clutching your hips intensely, Choso pushes you further down his cock — lovingly complimenting you.

“Ah! S-Shit! P-Please…get me…pregnant,” Unable to handle riding Choso, you gift him a tender plea — struggling as he heightened his stamina with his blood techniques.

“Mhm, we need…an heir,” Proud of you cumming swiftly, Choso mutters while he increases his pace — gritting his teeth at you strangling his vast cock.

“D-Do…it,” Exhausted, Choso animalistically becomes more consistent with your consent.

Driven by your squelching cunt, Choso fucks into you his hardest. His sacred breaths flee from his lungs, leaving him a pitiful mess — fucking into you until he’s so close to giving out. Choso’s legs are almost close to collapsing, but he pounds into you at a celestial pace until he finally finishes — filling your womb with his precious babies.

There’s no way he would stop until you’re pregnant. After all, you’re ovulating.

--

sukuna.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Wrapping a towel around yourself, you comfortably walk towards your bedroom — sighing to yourself at the lack of your husband. However, as you begin to peel off your towel, you hear your bedroom door burst open. Burst opens in a way that leaves you scrambling, cruelly met with Ryomen’s true form. A form that cowers over you, dismantling the faint light within your bedroom.

“R-Ryo’?” Gulping, terrified, you meekly squeal out your question — entwined with a thudding thrill that greets your cunt.

“I need to get you pregnant,” Straightforward, Ryomen authoritatively speaks — seriousness lingering in his carmine eyes.

“Y-You c-could have knocked,” Bare before a nearing Ryomen, you cover your breasts with your arms — shakily responding.

“What fun would it have been, knocking on our room door for my naive wife?” Boredom slightly tints Ryomen’s inquiry, leaving him plentiful at your flustered physique.

“N-None, R-Ryo?” Suppressed by Ryomen’s lustful corruption, you almost stumble at him overpowering you — his stomach’s mouth chuckling.

“My little dove’s nervous,” Mocking you, Ryomen grins at your nude physique — nuzzling at your submissiveness.

“T-Take me,” Uneasy at being exposed, you blurt out your soul’s desires — fiddling with your fingers at Ryomen’s toned abs.

“I’ll plant a sweet royal heir in you,” Mischievously muttering his plan, Ryomen gently pinches your nipple — walking forward to trap you against your ample bed.

“W-What’s come over you, Ryo?” Curious, you question Ryomen — realising your mistake as he lifts you with a singular arm.

“Not having an heir with you,” Predatory, Ryomen cast himself into voicing his concern — pushing you into straddling him.

“You really are a big baby,” Teasing Ryomen, you accidentally moan at his stomach’s tongue prodding against your ass.

“Can I?” Concealing his primal urges, Ryomen gruffly asks you — longing to gather a beautiful taste of you. Taste before he allows his seed to spread, toning your physique for nine months.

“Y-Yeah, but be careful, I’m still sensitive from last night,” Warning Ryomen, you almost topple at his insensitive tongue darting against your cunt — tearing apart your sanity in an instant.

“I’ll try, but you know it’s not in my nature to hold back,” Countering your need for ease, Ryomen hungrily responds to you — revealing his covetous urges for you.

Simply nodding, secretly yearning for Ryomen to decimate you, you toss yourself into giving into his thick, warm tongue. A tongue that relishes you so inhumanely, conquering you to the point you're craving, ailing and fixated on Ryomen’s tongue. A tongue that has mastered all of the arts on you, swiftly flicking your clit with no regard.

“Mhm, Ryo,” Struck with an unfathomable amount of pleasure, you moan out his name — sticking your fingers against his timeless abs.

“Cum quickly so I can stuff you beyond repair,” Humming out his impatience, a pair of Ryomen’s arms push you impossibly further against his insatiable tongue.

Content with your obedience, Ryomen buries you inhumanely against his tongue — shedding his ropes of care towards your thriving self. Sadistically monitoring, he applies an ounce of his brute strength — destroying your clit with pitiful licks that consume you. Within this form, he had to be careful — ensuring you come out in one piece.

“S-So…close! Ah! Yes! Yes!” Ecstatic, you surge Ryomen’s ears with your mewls — riding his tongue without any regard.

All you were doing was stirring Ryomen’s primal instincts, completely leaving him wanting to devour you — filling you with his two cocks.

“I’ll have to be quicker,” Grinning maliciously, Ryomen taunts you — speeding his tongue at a pace that leaves you weeping. Weeping without any mental strength, tinting with the overstimulating warmth of his licking tongue. 

A tongue that roamed effortlessly through your folds, sucking down on your clit before roaming to overwork other spots of you. Spots that ride Ryomen’s forbidden tongue, clouded and coerced by the sweet physical rhythm that his tongue introduces. A tongue you would always beg to ride, being able to meet Ryomen’s eyes without having to currently sit on his manly face.

Swarmed with an unmissable pleasure, your physique cramps against Ryomen — finishing swiftly against his tongue. Before you could shift yourself, you find your fatigued self shifted lower to rub against Ryomen’s ample cocks — almost ready to soothe his thudding cocks. Cocks that were forced to endure your whines, moans, and outcries without being truly satisfied.

“Don’t act like I wasn’t going to stuff you after you cum,” Expectant, Ryomen fills the ambience with his voice — intrigued by you instantly rutting your folds against his cockhead.

“I-I’ll take both,” Somewhat terrified, you pledge to take both — groaning at Ryomen using both of his hands to align his cocks.

Attempting to composure yourself, you grow soothed at Ryomen’s main arms running against your hips. Running against your hips before he hurriedly sits up a little, giving you room to face his features and steal a kiss of assurance.

“I’d have expected no less,” Sparing you praise, Ryomen slowly plunges his main cock within you — watching your eyes flutter with distress and pleasure.

“N-Never took two before,” Panting, rather teary, you voice your concerns — only for Ryomen to lovingly kiss your lips.

“Hm, you will today,” Ryomen gruffly informs you, aligning his second cock to sink inside your bubble butt.

“S-So…intense,” Furrowing your brows, you’re barely able to speak — hazy and faint as Ryomen descends you down on both of his cocks.

Clinging to Ryomen, you bury your fingers into his tender skin — scratching at his honed muscles. An overwhelming array of fear tints you, but that subsides the moment Ryomen sinks so deeply. The immense pleasure tears your lidded eyes open.

“Hm, that’s… the queen I love,” Cooing, Ryomen stuffs you further —  endowing you with a few experimental thrusts that contort you.

“C-Can’t…” Unable to speak, you just allow your eyelids to flutter. Your pleasure’s unable to be voiced from the intensity of it all, painting you into a state of weakness — attempting to ride.

“We’ve got all night,” Attempting to hold out, Ryomen accidentally cums with both of his cocks — the tempting warmth overwhelming even him.

“Mhm, you’re gonna break me,” Fixed with primal urges, Ryomen animalistically thrusts his thick cocks within you — terrorising and breaking you subconsciously.

“That’s the point, to prepare you for our baby,” Love-strickenly conversing, Ryomen pounds into you carelessly — humming as he has all night to shatter you.

—

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Alfred Hall Gets 5 Years And 5 Lashes," Vancouver Sun. October 16, 1943. Page 1 & 8. --- For the first time in a decade or more lashes were added to a penitentiary sentence when punishment was meted out in Assize Court today by Chief Justice Wendell Farris to seven prisoners.

Accompanied by a scathing denunciation of the "detestable crimes" of which he had been found guilty - two charges of gross indecency - Alfred G. Hall, 53-year-old self-styled psychologist and nutritionist, was sentenced to five years in the penitentiary and five lashes.

At the same time, Frederick Hathaway, 43, leader of the Aryan Astrological Occult Church of Christ, was given the maximum term for indecent assault, two years in the penitentiary.

Charles Willard Davis, 41, former New Westminster druggist who pleaded guilty to possession of drugs while he was staff sergeant in the RCAMC, was sent to the penitentiary for six years, with a fine of $1000, or an additional six months.

Other sentences given today, were:

Pte. George Donald Bowie, 27, two years from his arrest on May 29 for a statutory offense.

Ralph Prentice, 28, salesman, and Robert Morgan, 27, laborer, three years for burglary.

Robert Findlay, 21, fisherman, one year for burglary.

HAD FAIR TRIAL When court convenes at 10:30 a.m. Monday, Mr. Justice Stiney Smith will preside for the re-trial of two cases in which there were disagreements earlier in the assizes. They are Herbert Gordon Penny, false pretenses, and Robert Walter Millman, theft.

Hall, who is general director of the World Fellowship of Faith and Service and operator of its adjunct, the Human Adjustment institute, claimed he was greatly handicapped at his trials by lack of counsel. He told the chief justice also that there was a public movement to prevent the career which he had chosen as his life work in Vancouver.

"You had extremely fair trials and your ability in conducting your defense was such that I am satisfied it would not have been excelled by many lawyers," Chief Justice Farris told the prisoner.

LONG PERIOD "I think you have a contempt for the law and the decent things of life," he added, and then recited Hall's criminal record which began in Vancouver 20 years ago and extended to Toronto, Chicago, Seattle and back to Vancouver to pile up six convictions for false pretenses, theft, fraud, con-games, violation of immigration laws and non-support.

The chief justice said Hall's conduct in court indicated more than ordinary ability and a remarkable brain. It is too bad, he remarked, that science has not advanced sufficiently to correct the quirk which prevents his ability being of service to the community rather than a disgrace to himself. His Lordship said he could see nothing in the case which war ranted sympathy or leniency.

"Absolutely brazenly you defended yourself on this detestable charge, and I sentence you to five years with five lashes, as I believe that it is only by such means you may be brought to a realization of your position. Though the thought of the lash is to me abhorrent, in a case such as yours I see nothing else that will serve."

In making the sentences on the two counts concurrent, the chief justice stipulated that if the lashes are not given in the first case they shall be given in the second, within four weeks of Hall's admission to the penitentiary.

"COSMETIC SCIENCE" "In the second case you went into the box and your admissions were such as to my mind shows a completely perverted mind and a system of carrying on these perversions with your so-called institute to further what I might term your beastly desires," declared the judge.

Objections taken by G. V. Pelton in behalf of Hathaway of alleged prejudice at his trial by reference to cosmetic science instead of cosmic and the use of the name Hall instead of Hathaway, might be grounds of appeal; also his trial by jury on a lesser charge than the one on which he was committed.

"In these days, when people are seeking faith and religious outlet, those who profess religion and in the name of that religion, commit a crime, it becomes a very serious matter," Chief Justice Farris told the cosmic science lecturer who claimed at his trial to have visited Mars, Venus and other planets.

He was not unmindful of the suffering of drug addicts, the chief justice said after hearing a second impassioned plea by T. F. Hurley for leniency for Davis, the staff sergeant who admitted stealing morphine and cocaine from army supplies and substituting other medicines for a year.

But Davis' case was different to the ordinary drug case because he knew thed anger of going near narcotics; still he took a position of responsibility know- ing there might be serious consequences.

'KNEW WAY AROUND' His Lordship thought it remarkable that Canada has no institutions for the treatment of drug addicts.

He said he took into consideration the sorrow of his parents, wife, a son overseas and a brother invalided home; also the co-operation Davis gave in preventing the serious consequences there might have been. However, the judge said the Crown might have charged him under a section with a maximum penalty of 11 years instead of seven.

A strong recommendation by the jury for mercy was taken into consideration by the chief justice, he said, when he gave Bowie two years from the date of his arrest for an offense against a young girl. He said he also recalled that the complainant was "one who knew her way about" and that the soldier had been drinking.

Criminal records for 10 years and 13 years were confirmed by Prentice and Morgan respectively, when they appeared for sentence for a dairy safe-blowing.

[ozzgin]

More of the yandere monster???? Like their married life, him being such a cutie cutie and the reader is a willing person to his yandere tendencies. Like him physically fighting someone for flirting with her for .01 second and her just being 😍🥰

Alright anon, seeing as this has once again resurfaced, I'll cover a little bit of marital life as per your suggestion. (I'm hoping you're referring to the older sibling monster)

Yandere! Monster Husband x Reader

A little change of plans and the wedding you've been kidnapped for continued without a hitch, except you married the monstrous sibling instead. Made for an awkward celebratory dinner, but no one dared to oppose the Beast.

Content: female reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, saga of the monster hoe reader continues

[First part]

The next family dinner was quiet. You couldn't help but wonder if your horniness had gone too far, slowly chewing your food and occasionally peeking at the ex-groom with remorseful eyes. Poor guy, you thought. "Well, it's quite convenient, isn't it?" he finally said, breaking the silence. The cutlery sounds paused, and you lifted your gaze again. The man flashed you a radiant smile, which emphasized his handsome features even more. "I mean, we weren't sure we'd ever find a wife for my brother. He has a bit of an attitude, and even monsters are afraid of him. The only marriage attempt-" his speech was interrupted by a grunt, and you turned towards your monstrous boyfriend. The older sibling was frowning, visibly embarrassed. "Oh, I remember!" the mother of the siblings, a halfling herself, suddenly chuckled into her glass, taking a generous sip before continuing: "We'd arranged for a fellow monster to meet him, and the poor soul got so frightened she blended in with the background! Took us two days to find her! She came from a chameleon family, I recall."

Everyone at the table began to laugh and you joined, although with a mild annoyance tinged into your voice. So what, there was no reason for you to be plagued by guilt? You even refused a night escapade with your boyfriend until things "settled", as a way to be respectful towards the cucked party. All for naught. At least now you could be ravaged without further consequences. When the mother in law had pulled you aside hours earlier to make sure you weren't coerced into this arrangement, you had to hold back from crassly confessing you'd slurp her son empty of fluids at any hour of the day. Some things are better left untold.

Unfortunately, one detail couldn't be changed in time: the guest list. As this had been an event meant to strengthen the ties between humans, no one outside of the immediate family graced the venue with their monstrous presence. Many guests were intrigued by the outcome of the affair, terribly curious to see the famed wife-to-be of the gruesome, feared Head of the royal army. Even more so once they discovered it was a regular human by all means. "Fascinating!", the old ladies would occasionally cry out, clutching the plump, expensive pearls adorning their necks. You had to frequently excuse yourself in order to dodge the rather indecent questions regarding your relationship. Except when you did manage to sneak away, one of the younger men of names and titles you never registered would approach you for a dance. "Truly a pitiful matter", they'd whisper much too close to your ear. "You would've made a lovely bride for a fellow human."

"You're unexpectedly calm about this", the prince mentioned to his older brother at some point during the wedding night. "Are you not bothered by all the acquaintances flocking to your bride?" The monster shook his head with a sigh. He hadn't known you for that long yet, but one thing he was certain of: it's not humans he needed to fear.

Indeed, having a wife with a monster kink is particularly challenging when most of the husband's work involves similar creatures. The first months after the marriage were stalked by the insidious doubt that his luck was just that: mere coincidence. Would you have displayed the same interest had he not been the only beast at the table? Would you still pick him in a room full of monsters? Such questions followed him each day, feeding into an ever-growing jealousy.

"What are you doing here!", he exclaimed in despair once he noticed your arrival at his training camp. "You forgot your lunch", you explained, eyebrows raised in confusion. Oh, for fuck's sake. He quickly pulled you away, glaring at the subordinates startled by the commotion. They must've been eyeing (Y/N) like rabid dogs, he thought. Next thing you know, you'll be scooped away by some horned scoundrel. He can't have that.

Initially, the rage-filled, obsession-driven fuck you'd receive almost daily was welcomed with shameless begging. The way your monster husband would pin you down under his claws and thrust into you so hard, you could see its movement in waves across your stomach. The way he'd forcefully spread your legs, hungrily sinking his nails into the soft flesh of your thighs and gnawing your shoulders in delirious need. The tears that sheepishly formed in the corners of your hooded eyes would only incite him more. "Bite onto my hand if you can't take it anymore", he'd coo without stopping. As much as you liked to be left a limp, drooling mess, the soreness grew unbearable. Enough was enough when you found yourself carrying a cushion to sit down on any surface.

"Listen, we need to have a talk." You greeted him solemnly once he returned from his military duties. Oh, no. Absolutely not. The monstrous husband bit his lips in panic, immediately going through a mental list of all his subordinates. Or was it someone in the family that slithered their way into your heart? Is that what it was about, that you'd found a different creature? No matter, you weren't going anywhere. "I don't want to hear about it", he declared dramatically. "I have a bruised cervix!" you shouted in disbelief. "Huh?" He stared at you. "It hurts even when I lay down, man. You have to tone it down. At least for a little while."

Ah. Awkward. You noticed his flinch, and patted the empty seat next to you. "What did you think I was going to say?" The bench groaned under the weight of his gargantuan body. Hands folded in his lap like a punished schoolboy, your husband began to narrate the tale of his seething envy and frenzied passion for you. You must understand, he's never cared for anyone as much. To hell with duty and honor, he would kill his own father if his touch on you lingered one second longer than permitted. "Alright, but you must control yourself a little", you reminded him gently. "Never, my urge to obliterate any threat in my path is insatiable", he concluded with vehemence. "Yes, yes, that I understand. The sex, I mean", you gesticulated. "Of course. My apologies, I got sidetracked."

Somehow, he didn't expect to leave this conversation with a cathartic approval of his possessiveness. "Surely you must be upset by my fanatical behavior", he suggested meekly. "Oh no, it's part of your charm", you reassured him with a smile. "It's just not that sustainable in bed without the occasional break." You pat your stomach to express your misfortune.

Sadly, your monster fucking dreams must adhere to the laws of biology.

[miclipse]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ princess & the fish.

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader

synopsis: rafayel’s dream of turning into a human had miraculously come true! but things didn't turn out like he had expected…

word count: 3.7k

cw: afab! reader, rafayel is a fish (literally, but he turns into a human), reader is a princess, nicknames used (princess, your highness), rafayel struggling to walk with legs, rafayel hates toes, very slight and brief abysswalker! rafayel reference (just one line), reader finds rafayel half-naked in her room, fluff

dt: everyone that wanted fishy rafayel (aka fifi) to turn into a human + the person in my asks asking if i was continuing this.

note: reupload because apparently my post didn’t show up in the tags :( but unfortunately that means the ask got deleted as well, sorry anon :(

likes reblogs & comments appreciated! <3

this all had to be a dream, right?

…actually, no. this was most definitely a nightmare, if anything.

because why else would rafayel be standing naked in your bedroom, the fishtank he once called his home now nothing but shattered glass scattered across your study table?

there was no logical explanation for this, rafayel thought to himself while struggling to manoeuvre around your room with his new pair of human appendages.

he spent at least ten minutes stumbling over his toes while trying to make his way to your bathroom door.

…seriously, why did humans even have a need for toes? and ten of them, at that!

when rafayel had finally, finally made it to the bathroom entrance, he spent another five minutes figuring out the mechanism behind how to open it.

turns out, the grand secret behind it was that he had to push the door, not pull.

once in the bathroom, rafayel was tempted to fill up your bathtub with water and just jump in for a swim, but he figured seeing a naked man with a towel wrapped around his waist would be a little less intense for you than having to see a fully naked stranger swimming around in your tub.

thus, rafayel opted to grab a spare towel from the cabinet just under the sink, carelessly tying it around his waist to hide his indecency before you came back from your royal duties.

rafayel spent yet another ten minutes trying to walk out of your bathroom (he nearly slipped at least twice but he refuses to talk about it) and towards the nearest furniture he could sit on without it breaking due to his new physique.

looking around your bedroom to ensure that there were no maids around to witness this phenomenon, rafayel plopped himself on the edge of your soft mattress.

resting his head on his fist, his eyebrows furrowed in the process.

this was not how he imagined things to go at all.

in all honesty, rafayel was pretty satisfied living life as your pet fish. though there were many pros and cons that came along with his new domestic life, he wouldn't have wished for things to be any different than how it was.

of course, there were times when rafayel would ponder to himself how life would be for him if he were to turn into a human and be able to properly talk with you.

but out of all the exaggerated and cliche scenarios rafayel had fantasized about during his free time (which was whenever you were not around), being naked with only a fluffy white towel tied around his waist as he dreadfully waited for you to return was definitely not one of them.

well, it probably was. but it was not at the top of his list, that was for sure.

but here came the real question—

how did he even turn into a human? there was no logical or scientific reason behind how all of this was possible. rafayel had never heard others talk about stories of fishes turning into humans either.

well, unless you included ariel from that little mermaid movie. but ariel was a mermaid, so it really was not exactly the same as rafayel’s current predicament.

and besides, rafayel didn’t think he knew or angered any shady sea witches back when he lived in the waters.

there was nothing he could really do at the moment. as much as rafayel wanted to sneak to the royal library to dig out some sacred books in order to do some research about his condition, he dared not imagine the consequences he would have to face if anyone caught him sneaking out of the princess’s private chambers with only a skimpy bath towel covering him from waist-down.

just the image of him getting beheaded by the royal guards was enough to convince rafayel not to leave your private chambers, knowing it was the safest place for him to be in right now.

so his only option now was to wait for his princess to return to her chambers so that he could try to explain the situation to you in hopes that your naive little brain could understand and help him out.

he was your beloved fish afterall, so surely you would find a way to help him, right?

an ear-piercing scream echoed loudly through the room.

rafayel's eyes snapped open in panic and immediate dread, sitting up from the bed frantically only to be met with a big white thing smacking his face.

as he made a clumsy attempt to back away from the bed and nearly tripping over his newly grown toes (human toes be damned), rafayel’s eyes wandered to the big white thing that was thrown at him.

it was your polar bear plushie, he noted.

rafayel then turned to look at the door, only to see you standing there looking like a frightened kitten, now holding a thick, hard-cover book ready to launch at him once more.

it was only then rafayel realised that he had accidentally fallen asleep in your bed while waiting for you to come back.

this was not good. not good at all.

“who… who are you?!” you shrieked out, preparing yourself to throw the book in his face within the next five seconds if he didn't respond.

“me? i’m…” without even realizing it, rafayel darted his eyes to look at your study table as he fell silent, his lips pursing together.

you gave him a look of skepticism before slowly following his gaze. the man watched as you let out a horrified gasp when you saw that your fishtank was nothing but shattered glass on the table.

“fifi!”

running to your study table, you stared at what once used to be fifi's home for the past three months, now nothing but broken shards scattered all across the table.

“you! what have you done to my fifi?”

rafayel backed up into the corner of the room when you pointed an accusatory finger at him, feeling very wronged by your assumption.

what, did you think he ate your fish or something?

“woah!”

to prevent his nose from breaking tonight, rafayel quickly moved his head to the side to narrowly dodge the book in your hands that came flying towards his face.

that was a close one.

“let's use words, shall we?”

before you had a chance to frantically look around your bedroom for a new deadly weapon to fling at rafayel's handsome face, he had to think of something believable, and fast.

“i’m asking you one last time, where. is. my. fish?”

your eyes narrowed and your eyebrows furrowed as you glared at rafayel as an attempt to threaten him.

rafayel doesn't really have the heart to tell you that your glare was nothing more than a little fly trying to square up to a frog.

not the best comparison, but you get it.

“well, if you're looking for fifi, i’m right here.” rafayel responded as nonchalantly as he could, desperately trying to hold back his laughter.

you shot him an incredulous look, obviously doubtful with his claim of being your pet fish. rafayel felt absolutely scrutinized under your gaze while you looked at him up and down.

“do you think i’m five?”

“well, given how you spend your nights talking to a fish like it's your newfound soulmate, i wouldn't doubt it.”

man, rafayel wished he could describe how proud he felt when he saw your jaw slacken and you gawk at him with wide eyes.

it felt so good finally being able to talk back to you, and in a way that you understood him too. rafayel picks this over ‘glub! glub! glub!’ anyday.

you looked around the room cautiously, before your eyes landed back on rafayel.

no one really knew that you spent your nights telling your baby fishy little bedtime stories.

…not unless this man in your room was fifi himself. it was a secret solely kept between you and fifi.

…still, it wouldn't hurt to double check, right?

“oh yeah? tell me something about fifi then.” you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest. you still felt doubtful over this whole situation. “anything at all.”

i mean, it wasn't everyday that you got to see your fish turn into a grown man (that was also naked, you observed), now a head taller than you.

rafayel smirked at your demand. oh boy, where should he start? he had many, many juicy secrets that he could spill to you. ones that he knew were only shared between you and your beloved fishy (him) in these very four walls.

but he was determined to embarrass the hell out of you, so he was thinking what exactly was the most embarrassing moment you've ever told him.

maybe he should start with that one time you started weeping your eyes out in front of his tank because you thought he was sick and about to die since he wasn't eating the kibbles you poured into his tank? (you were overfeeding him).

or perhaps that one time you told him you accidentally broke your mom's jewellery box while trying on her earrings and blamed it all on the maid instead?

oh. he couldn't forget the countless amounts of times you fell asleep sprawled over the study table, your hair looking as neat as a bird’s nest, drool escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping onto the sleeve of your nightgown as you snored the night away.

but the most memorable one of them all was…

“...remember that time when you tried to cut a piece of strawberry cake and dump it into my tank?” rafayel questioned, a smirk appearing on his lips as his eyebrow quirked upwards, anticipating the kind of reaction you’d give.

the way your eyes widened in horror and the tips of your ears started to tint in a dark red hue was enough for rafayel to conclude that he had won this round.

“only fifi would know that…” you mumbled out in utter disbelief. was this man standing in front of you really your pet fish of three months?

“exactly.” rafayel puffed out his chest proudly at your words. “but if you’re not convinced, i can tell you about that time when you tried to bring my fishtank to your bed so you could hug me to sleep—”

oh. not that. you desperately cut rafayel off mid-sentence.

“stop! stop, stop!” your face felt hot, as if you just ran a whole marathon with no breaks in between.

there was an awkward and tense silence lingering in the air, with you looking at your pet fish dead in the eyes.

“s.. so it really is you, fifi…” you managed to mutter out, albeit still in disbelief that your pet fish was now a grown man a head taller than you.

rafayel doesn’t have it in him to break the devastating piece of news to you that his name was actually ‘rafayel’ before you came along.

“affirmative.” fifi— or, rafayel, nodded his head without a beat of hesitation.

you both then proceeded to awkwardly stare at each other without a word, waiting for each other to break the tense silence.

eventually, rafayel was the one that broke the silence.

“so…” he sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck, feeling like a fish out of the water (literally and figuratively). “has the shock died down yet?” he asked, hoping you were calm enough to have a proper conversation with him.

you blinked and glanced back at the broken fish tank a couple of times to make sure that rafayel was not some kind of crazy hallucination stemming from your lack of sleep recently.

“well, not really.”

“good enough for me.” rafayel casually bent down and picked up the weapons you used for your assassination attempt (your books and polar bear plushie), making his way to your study table to put the books back where they belong.

“i know you probably have a lot of questions, your highness,” rafayel’s gentle voice filled the room’s silence once again. “but i, too, don’t have the answers to them. i hope your highness can forgive me.”

he briefly glanced at you from his peripheral vision, a faint and apologetic smile ghosting his lips while he slotted the books back into the shelf.

you were still standing in the middle of the room, your eyes following rafayel’s figure while he was putting back your books. you still had the dumbfounded and surprised look from this whole ordeal.

when rafayel caught sight of you meekly nodding your head in silent agreement to his words, he took it as a sign to continue speaking.

“since you’re free tomorrow, how about your highness help a fishy out to find a way to turn me back?” he asked with a chuckle, making a final stop to your bed and gently placing your polar bear down by the pillows, now reunited with the rest of your fuzzy friends.

“how’d you know i’m—”

oh, that’s right. you told fifi at the start of this week that you had tomorrow to yourself. the realisation that you spent your nights practically telling this man (in his fish form) the a to z’s about your life started to settle in, coupled with embarrassment.

“oh.. right..” the corners of your lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile, trying to keep your cool despite the absurd situation unfolding before your very eyes.

“also, do you mind if i borrow a hoodie of yours or something? walking around with only a skimpy towel around my waist is a little uncomfortable.”

“ack!”

before you could protest, rafayel strutted towards your wardrobe and began rummaging through it like a stray mouse in search of a slab of cheese.

attempting to recollect your composure, you stammered out a remark in hopes to gain back some sort of control.

“h..hey! is this how you act in someone else’s bedchamber?”

rafayel halted his scavenger hunt for a brief moment.

“… i’ll remember for next time.”

…and he’s back to digging through your wardrobe for one of your oversized hoodies.

in the end, rafayel settled with one of your gray hoodies coupled with a pair of sweatpants he miraculously could fit in.

“what’s this?”

a look of confusion washed over his face as the fish stepped out of your bathroom, finally properly clothed.

his eyes were glued to the unfamiliar scene before him. a thick woven quilt was spread across the carpeted floor not far away from your bedframe, accompanied by two pillows and a neatly folded but thin blanket sitting on top of it.

“your new bed for the night.”

your response was as casual as inviting a friend over for a sleepover.

you gave his new bed a few soft pats, a gesture to coax him over, before making your way back to your own cozy haven.

“since you don’t fit in a fish tank anymore, i figured we have to come up with an alternative.”

rafayel watched as you tucked yourself into bed and fluffed up your pillows, getting ready to drift to dreamscape anytime from this point forward.

“yeah, well what if your maids see me?” his voice was full of skepticism as he approached his new bed, lifting up the blanket to fit into the warm cocoon.

“then i can tell them that you’re fifi.”

one of rafayel’s eyebrows quirked up in doubt and a hint of amusement.

“and will they buy it?”

“no.”

“…”

well, that was reassuring.

rafayel’s head was resting against the pillows now, completely unimpressed with your response while also trying to get used to sleeping outside of the water.

“well, but that’s something we’ll both deal with tomorrow.” you laughed nervously, leaning back against the plush pillows and turning your body so that you were laying on your side; facing rafayel with a faint smile ghosting your lips.

staring into your eyes like this made rafayel’s heart swell in an odd way. he didn’t know exactly how to put it to words, but the atmosphere of your bedroom felt dangerously intimate right now.

in fact, way too intimate for an owner and her pet fish to be having.

rafayel was no fool— he could tell how you seemed to be holding back more now that he had taken the form of a human. how the gaze you directed towards him still held a hint of love and affection amidst all of your other mixed emotions. you looked at him as if nothing had changed between the two of you, like he was still that tiny fish you had brought back home (kidnapped) three months ago.

“yeah… we should get some rest. we’ll be ransacking our brains a lot tomorrow.” rafayel agreed with a nod of his head, breaking eye contact first by turning his head to look up at the ceiling, trying to get rid of the dangerously growing intimacy dancing between the two of you.

his arm slid beneath his head to get into a more comfortable position for himself, still in disbelief that he was actually a human now.

he tried. keyword, tried to ignore the lingering feeling of not being able to bury his little fishy body in his favourite coral reef to fall asleep, and instead having to settle with sleeping on the cold hard ground with a paper-thin blanket that barely reached to the tip of his toes.

but in the end, the thought still greatly bothered him.

“tell me a bedtime story.”

…the words flew out of his mouth before rafayel could even comprehend what he was saying.

“i beg your pardon?” your expression morphed into one of astonishment.

“what? don’t you always go on and on about your day in front of my fishtank?” rafayel scoffed, turning his head back to face you. he had been kept awake against his will, forced to listen to your endless ramblings ever since you first kidnapped him.

he had grown so accustomed to your excited life updates that it was part of his daily routine now. rafayel always relied on your storytelling to help him get sleepy and prepare for bedtime, and he definitely wasn’t going to let this routine stop tonight just because he had grown a pair of legs out of thin air.

“… how about you tell me a bedtime story this time, fifi?”

your soft voice almost made rafayel wonder if he misheard what you had just said.

“hah, me? as if i have any tales that would fascinate you.” rafayel was quick to dismiss the idea of telling you a story.

one, bedtime storytelling was your thing. it always has been, and it always will be. as a fish, rafayel was habituated to just listening. i mean, he was a fish, there wasn’t much he could say to you in the first place. asking him for a sudden role reversal to play as the storyteller was beyond his expertise and comfort zone.

and two, his life out in the seas wasn’t as interesting or fascinating as whatever you were expecting.

or in other words, rafayel had no stories to tell in the first place.

“oh come on, i’m sure there’s some interesting stories about your life before you started living here.” you continued to persuade him further, trying to give him a metaphorical nudge to get him to open up.

rafayel really couldn’t resist when you talked to him in that soft and persuasive tone. you might as well grow a pair of fins and live in the ocean as a siren with how easily you allured him to obey your words.

“fine, fine, let me think of something,” the fish grumbled, his eyebrows furrowing together as he dug through his memories for anything worth mentioning to you.

entertaining a princess was hard work— rafayel was finally starting to understand the pressure of being in the presence of a princess like yourself. it was like there was an invisible expectation for him to uphold. one that was unspoken, but still anticipated in a way.

“does me being chased by an octopus sound entertaining enough for you, your highness?”

the way your smile grew, and your eyes held a hint of curiosity made rafayel let out a breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding.

so that was how he began telling you about the instance where he was chased by an octopus back when he was still adventuring around in the stray waters.

rafayel’s storytelling skills wasn’t top tiered as compared to yours. his story began awkward, his tone unnatural. this was not his forte, so he was basically a fish out of the water (once again, literally and figuratively).

however, the sounds of your soft giggles, hums of acknowledgement and occasional small nods of your head served to be the main catalyst for him to improve as the story progressed.

by the time the story reached its climax, he sounded more confident and sure of himself. he also was more natural when speaking and somehow, without even realising it, managed to lull you to dreamscape.

“...seriously? just as i was at the good part too.” rafayel muttered, feigning mild irritation when he saw that your eyes were closed, facial features relaxed, along with your breathing deep and slow.

rafayel let out a defeated sigh, lightly shaking his head before he turned his head to face back towards the ceiling again.

he finally understood how you always managed to fall asleep so quickly after telling him about your day— talking in such an excessive manner was… tiring. and now, he was feeling the growing fatigue about to consume him too.

he briefly snuck a glance at your sleeping form through his peripheral vision, the corners of his lips gently tugging upwards into a smile.

rafayel’s mind was tired, but his heart was filled to the brim with nothing but affection. affection that you had been showering him with for the past three months.

“no matter what form i take, you’ll still love me just the same, huh?”

he wasn't expecting an answer. he didn't need your verbal response to confirm his thoughts in the first place. the facts were as clear as day before his very eyes.

his vision was getting blurry, his breathing slowing down and his eyes feeling heavier with each blink.

rafayel vaguely remembered letting out one final whisper before everything fell to the darkness.

“…at least now i can finally tell you that i love you too, princess.”

all rights reserved © miclipse 2024. do not repost, plagiarize, copy, modify or translate my works on any platforms.

[vhagarys]

Final Tribute

husband!aemond x reader

summary: your husband always carried himself with a cold indifference outside of your bed chambers. you were determined to break him.

warnings: smut, slight voyeur, mean aemond, desperate reader, humiliation kink?,

MDNI

since marrying the prince regent, one of your favorite hobbies is to try to rile your husband. he always dropped the cool facade he crafted behind closed doors. however, his stoic demeanor never wavered as soon as he left your shared chambers.

thus, you set a precedent to finally crack your husband.

tonight presented itself as a golden opportunity for such endeavors.

you made a point to avoid him prior to dinner, knowing how annoyed he would be at your evasion.

when you arrived to the family affair, quite tardy at that, you made sure to dress in a gown you knew aemond would disapprove. breasts spilling out of the bodice, you dared to add a touch of sparkly powder to your collarbones to draw extra attention to them.

satisfied with your appearance, you waltzed into the banquet room, carefully evading the piercing gaze shot at you from across the room.

strolling past the seat next to your husband, you opted to place yourself next to ser cristin cole.

this was be an easy feat, you giggled internally. the lord commander known for his lustful hobbies.

however hard he tried to be respectful of the prince’s lady wife, his eyes couldn’t help but drink in the sight of your indecent attire.

a bolt of excitement shot through you as you could practically feel the heat radiating from your husband. your actions, while to most minute, were monumental in his eyes.

not only had you failed to greet him properly and sit beside him, but your choice of dress was more befitting of as a whore from the Street of Silk than his royal wife.

you knew your behavior was risky to say the least, however your lust to breach your husbands exterior clouded your better judgement.

the final straw was you laughing boisterously at a remark from ser cristin, daring to go so far as to lean over and flirtatiously smack his arm.

the chatter was brought to a halt at the startling bang of aemond slamming his fist on the table. slowly turning from ser cristin to meet his gaze, you could barely suppress the smirk that appeared.

he noted the smug satisfaction on your face. you were met with matching smirk and a sense of unease washed over you. the tension in the room grew thick, and you could feel it begin to seep through your skin.

you wish to play this game with me dear wife? you could hear the unspoken words as a darkness consumed his pupils.

lifting his goblet, he commanded the attention of everyone in the room. his attention fixated on you as a predator would to its prey. admiring his meal, drinking in the sound of your sporadic heartbeat before going in for the kill. the dominance he emitted shot straight to your dampening core.

as if he could smell your arousal, his eyes trailed down your exposed form.

“shijetra issa, issa ābrazȳrys vestragon naejot emagon ojūdan zȳhon se jorrāelagon issa. īlon jāhor sagon return naejot pryjagon adere.”

(forgive me, my wife seems to have forgotten herself and requires my immediate attention. we will return on the morrow to break fast.)

your eyes bulged as you began to grasp his words and the reality that half in attendance spoke high valyrian. those same eyes looked over at you with a degree of shock and horror as embarrassment washed over you.

all you could do was sit frozen as your husband sauntered over to your seat, looming behind your chair to whisper,

“iksos bisa skoros ao jeldan, issa ābrazȳrys? māzigon.” all it took was a light touch of his fingers on your chin for you to obediently meet his gaze.

(is this what you wanted, my naughty wife. Come.)

depite the shame at your indecent actions, yo couldn’t help but feel aroused at your husband’s brazen words.

you thanked the gods for the dynamic between you and your lord husband. he craved your submission as much as you craved relinquishing control to him. desperate to please each other, you were never left unsatisfied when you found yourselves under the sheets.

with a firm grip, he led you out of the room and towards your chambers. in a futile attempt to compose yourself, you rubbed your thighs together as all the scenarios of what was to come swarmed your conscience.

as soon as the doors closed behind you, he pushed you against it, crowding your space and gripping your hip with a bruising force.

“you have forgotten your place, dear wife. what would your mother and father think, if they saw how desperate their little girl was that she’d act like a whore to get her husbands attention?”

he pushed his knee between your legs, creating a delicious friction against your core. lost in the heady headspace aemond was pulling you into, you whined pathetically and began to rub yourself against his leather pants.

aemond knew how far gone you were. he grinned as he looked deeply in your eyes and saw how dilated your pupils were. not a single thought in that pretty little head but my cock, he mused to himself.

he allowed you to continue your ministrations, cooing at his dear wife reduced to a desperate cock slut. humping on his leg like a bitch in heat, a small of drool left your lips as he gripped your neck and hold you in place.

your arousal drenched through your small clothes and stockings, effectively ruining them and his trousers.

he knew you were close to peak, as he wrenched his knee from your center and threw you over your shoulder. you whined and went to reach your center and relieve yourself of the throbbing between your legs.

he gripped your hands in one of his, nearing your martial bed.

“if you desire my cock, you needn’t act like a whore, sweet girl. I will always make time to fill you with my seed, hm?”

a little short ik, this scenario popped into my brain and needed to document it, enjoy!

- alice

[fiona-my-love]

I meant general relationship hcs! Can I request for hcs of what they’re like on a date when you're done with my request? Thanks!

What Stolas, Husk, Blitzo, and Alastor are like on dates

Of course! I’ll finish this first since it’s what I thought what you meant originally, so I already made some of it!!

Stolas

- Oh my! You want to go out with him? Well, then he might as well prepare an entire festival for you!!

- But in all seriousness, he’s quite over the top. But at the end of the day, he kind of prefers to stay indoors and just decorate.

- But it’s pretty 50/50, depends on his mood! He’ll either treat you to a fancy restaurant or just decorate his dining hall for you, and end the date off with you two heading to the bedroom. ifykyk

- Despite being a horny bastard, he’s quite the gentleman on dates!

- He’ll always be courteous to you, opening each door for you and paying the bill.

- He’s pretty good at giving compliments, you gotta admit. He knows just how to fluster you!

- But say anything back and he’s lovestruck, beet red, and turned on.

- He thinks you look absolutely ravishing, no matter what you wear! You’re his queen/king/royal, how could you not be stunning?

- Very good with small talk, but he can get burnt out if you don’t talk much. Just make sure to seem interested in him and you’ll have a great time!

Blitzo

- He’s.. quite creative, you have to admit!..

- His dates are rarely something as simple as getting lunch. Nono, he wants them to be memorable.

- So, what’s his idea of memorable? Hmm..

- Sneaking into a horse riding class on earth. Murder. Arson. Treason. Theft. Public indecency.

- So yeah.. have fun with that!

- But at the end of the day, one of his favorite things to do with you is just kick back, relax, order some food, and cuddle on the couch while watching shitty romcoms.

- He doesn’t really care what you guys do, honestly. You guys could literally be sky diving and he’d just be happy to be with you.

*LITERALLY FALLING FROM AN AIRPLANE THATS HUNDREDS OF FEET IN THE SKY*

“OH SHI- Hey, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

- But at the same time, he likes it when dates mean something.

- For example, murdering your ex together!

- But seriously, he loves to just spend time with you in places you went to when you were still in the crushing phase.

Alastor

- Oh boy! He’s quite the gentleman, he’ll take you anywhere you want! It’s not like anyone can turn him down!

- Loves dancing with you, he’d absolutely adore to go on a date where you two just dance to his favorite songs!

- He’s always dressed to the nines! And by that, I mean dressed to the 1900s!

- Not particularly a fan of newer fashion. But hey, he’d be more than happy to fetch you some clothing from his time period if you so wish!

- He spoils you absolutely rotten! You are his one and only, after all!

- Oh, what’s that darling? You’d like some dinner? Why, of course! He’d say, before going on a killing spree, on the search for the perfect meat. Only the finest for his beloved!

- Would absolutely melt if you cooked for him.

- He actually enjoys cooking with you! He’s pretty good at cooking, and by that I mean he’s good at cooking people.

- All in all, he’s a classy guy who likes to show his darling the finer parts of this afterlife!

Husk

- Let’s get one thing straight. He’s just not really all that romantic of a guy.

- But hey, if you want to go out, then who is he to deny you?

- He’d be more than happy to spend some of his hard-earned gambling money to treat you to a lovely dinner at the local bar.

- He’s gotta admit, he loves the way you get so happy whenever you go out together.

- And my god does he love to see you dressed up all fancy, just for him. As much as he is a grump, he’s really fell for you!

- If you go shopping together, he’ll act annoyed when he has to help carry your bags, but if you offer to carry them all by yourself he’d act like you’re asking too much of him.

- He also acts reluctant to spend money on you out of embarrassment, but he refuses to let you pay for anything.

- He may be a bit of a gentleman with you, but that doesn’t mean he’s gotta be happy about it!

- He really likes going to bars with you. Shots on him, obviously.

- To give him the benefit of the doubt, he’s really trying to be a gentleman, but don’t expect him to last more that an hour without getting blackout drunk.

[mrmousetolliver]

Alan Mathison Turing

Alan Turing was  was an English mathematician, computer scientist, logician, cryptanalyst, philosopher and theoretical biologist and is widely considered to be the father of theoretical computer science. During the Second World War, Turing worked for the Government Code and Cypher School at Bletchley Park, Britain's codebreaking centre that produced Ultra intelligence. He led Hut 8, the section responsible for German naval cryptanalysis. He devised techniques for speeding the breaking of German ciphers, including improvements to the pre-war Polish bomba method, an electromechanical machine that could find settings for the Enigma machine. Turing played a crucial role in cracking intercepted messages that enabled the Allies to defeat the Axis powers in many crucial engagements, including the Battle of the Atlantic. in 1952 when Turing was 39, he began a relationship with Arnold Murray, a 19 year old unemployed man. In January of 1952, Turings house was burgled, and Murray told Turing that he and the burglar were acquainted, and Turing called the police to report the crime. During the investigation, he acknowledged a sexual relationship with Murray and both men were charged with "gross indecency" under Section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885. On the advice of his family and lawyer he pled guilty. In March of 1952 he was convicted and given a choice between imprisonment or probation with the condition that he undergo a hormonal treatment to reduce libido, aka as "chemical castration". Turing opted for probation and began the chemical treatments. Over the course of the following year he was injected with estrogen, causing impotence and for breast tissue to form. In a letter, Turing wrote that "no doubt I shall emerge from it all a different man, but quite who I've not found out".

On 8 June 1954, at his house at 43 Adlington Road, Wilmslow, Turing's housekeeper found him dead. A post mortem was held that evening which determined that he had died the previous day at the age of 41 with cyanide poisoning cited as the cause of death. When his body was discovered, an apple lay half-eaten beside his bed, and although the apple was not tested for cyanide, it was speculated that this was the means by which Turing had consumed a fatal dose. Many question whether his death was suicide or accidental but it is officially listed as suicide. In 2013, Queen Elizabeth II signed a pardon for Turings conviction of "gross indencency", with immediate effect. The Queen officially pronounced Turing pardoned in August 2014. The Queen's action is only the fourth royal pardon granted since the conclusion of the Second World War. Pardons are normally granted only when the person is technically innocent, and a request has been made by the family or other interested party; neither condition was met in regard to Turing's conviction. In September 2016, the government announced its intention to expand this retroactive exoneration to other men convicted of similar historical indecency offences, in what was described as an "Alan Turing law". The Alan Turing law is now an informal term for the law in the United Kingdom, contained in the Policing and Crime Act 2017, which serves as an amnesty law to retroactively pardon men who were cautioned or convicted under historical legislation that outlawed homosexual acts. The law applies in England and Wales.

[troublesomesnitch]

Uneasy Lies the Head

Aegon Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen (but subtle)

This is my contribution to @targaryen-dynasty's Sleepover Challenge! I was given the prompt only one bed/forced proximity and came up with this little drabble.

Contents: masturbation, lots of incestuous vibes, but no actual incest (sorry). Also minor 'historical' and HOTD inaccuracies.

Words: 1600

Military camps are a humble affair. Even for a king. 

They have been on the march for days, waiting for news of the enemy’s movements, and enduring the most discouraging conditions. Dust caking onto their skin, painful bug bites, and having to shit in a ditch in the woods, just to name a few.

Aegon’s tent is the nicest by far, but it is still a poor imitation of what he is used to. There are furs laid out on the ground, and an oil lamp hung from the rafters, but the banner on the wall is crooked, and the furnishings leave much to be desired. All they’ve arranged for him is a wobbly table, six uncomfortable chairs, and two cots on the ground. 

One for the king, and one for his brother. 

They have not shared a chamber since they were boys. Aegon doesn’t mind it so much, but Aemond’s mouth forms an even thinner line than usual, and he makes a terrible fuss when he undresses for bed. It will be scorching hot in the tent come the morning, but his shirt stays on, and he pulls at the edge until it reaches the middle of his thighs. Lest anything indecent be on show. 

“Seven hells, I’m your brother,” Aegon says, but it only earns him an irritated sound as Aemond settles on his cot. Flat on his back, hands folded over his chest, and not a single wrinkle in the sheets draped across his form. 

Aegon retires too, much earlier than he usually would. He is sore in his muscles, and fed up with bickering advisors and difficult decisions. With riding all day, with hurry up and wait. 

There are wineskins being passed around outside, and girls too, the usual camp followers. But none of them much appealed to him tonight. Nothing out here really does.

And yet. 

When Aegon wakes sometime in the small hours, it is with a terrible ache between his legs. His cock is hard, lying stiff and leaking against his stomach, and there is a tightness in his balls that demands attention. 

He has not had the chance to indulge in pleasures of the solitary kind, as the camp offers him no privacy - not when he is surrounded by lords at all times, and certainly not now, with Aemond sleeping just a few feet away. 

He is so close that Aegon can hear his slow breaths, and smell his scent of sweat and expensive oils. Somehow, it is strangely comforting. Nice to know that he perspires just the same as everyone else, even if there’s still a pleasant hint of sandalwood underneath.

In fact, Aegon does not believe he has ever seen his brother in such a candid state as just now. Aemond’s face is flushed with heat, and his lips are ever so slightly parted; dry and chapped from the harsh summer sun. The shirt is still on, but damp with sweat and loosened at the neck, baring his glistening collar bones; the golden hair that curls on his chest. 

Aegon still has that boyish quality about him, but Aemond looks like a fully grown man. Like someone who could and should lead an army to battle. He acts more like a grown man too, as Aegon will be the first to admit. Noble. Dignified. 

Aemond would never be caught drunkenly roaming the streets of King’s Landing. He does not share his brother's fondness for spirits and women. 

Once, when they were alone in the training yard, Aegon had dared to ask you do fuck, right?, and Aemond had rolled his eye and looked at him as though it was the stupidest question he’d ever heard. 

Aegon took that as a yes. 

He would like for them to share a girl sometime, like royal princes should, like Father and Daemon undoubtedly did in their youth. He would even let Aemond choose the girl, picky as he is, and let him have first pick of her openings too. He’d choose her cunt of course, because that is the proper way, but he wouldn’t call it her cunt, he would call it something more poetic and ridiculous. Her womanhood. Her flower. 

Twat. 

But it is still a nice thing for Aegon to imagine when he starts quietly fisting his cock under the sheet. A whore kneeling on a bed, Aemond behind her and himself by her head. Cocks buried to the hilt, and wet, squelching noises coming from both ends. Aemond’s balls slapping against her arse, and his own hitting her chin. 

Or, if that is not to Aemond’s liking, then Aegon would be glad to switch places. The girl would be on her back, and he would fuck her the usual way, and they could make her squeeze her tits together and have Aemond fuck the valley in between. Because that is the one thing Aegon knows about his brother’s preferences - he does like a good pair of tits. And it’d be perfect for Aegon too, because while he would get to feel the girl’s insides, he would also be able to look at the action in front of him. See her fleshy, bouncing tits, and Aemond’s cock sliding in between. Hard, and glistening with oil, as obviously they would need some lubrication. Aegon could even help hold her tits in place, if need be. In such a position, his and Aemond’s bodies would be so close that they’d have no choice but to move together, keep the same rhythm, or else neither would be able to find his release. What a dirty thing that would be, to fuck like that. Together. 

But unfortunately, it is highly unlikely that Aemond would ever agree to something so exceedingly intimate.

So perhaps they would take turns instead, in which case Aegon would be charitable and volunteer to be second for once. He would not ask the girl to wash herself in between - he would fuck her right after, while her cunt was still full of his brother’s emission. 

And of course, the filthiest thing of all would be to make use of both of her holes at once. Aegon can think of only one position that would make it possible: the girl would have to be on all fours, and Aemond would lie underneath her and fuck up into her cunt. He would have her tits in his face, squeezing them tight and sucking on her nipples, and then Aegon would stand between his legs and slide his cock into the girl’s arse. 

The thought of it makes his balls feel tight, and he pumps his cock with one hand, and massages his sack with the other, spurred on by the filthy images in his head. 

A pretty girl bent over a table, or riding his brother, or taking them both in her mouth at the same time. His own cock pulsing in her arse. Aemond in his moment of ecstasy, spilling himself all over her tits. 

They would leave her covered and full of their royal seed. Dragon’s seed. Surely for a common whore there could be no higher honour. 

Aegon tries his best to keep silent when he comes, gritting his teeth and gripping onto the edge of his cot. His cock throbs, and he rubs the tip of it hard, each squirt of seed making his body tremble and his hips thrust up. Unwittingly, and over and over until he finally feels relieved and can wipe his fingers clean on the sheet. 

It is quiet in the tent, and unsettlingly quiet outside. The sounds of drunkenness have died down, and even the grasshoppers have stopped chirping, as if time itself stood still. 

With his urges now taken care of, it takes only moments for the knot in Aegon's stomach to tighten once more.

There will be a great battle, and then several more after that, and hundreds, thousands of men will die in his name. Their wives will mourn, and their children will starve when no one is left to farm the lands, and all of the grains they have saved will soon be requisitioned for the armies. Green and black alike. 

In the weeks that have passed since his coronation, Aegon has come to realise that his father’s crown was too light and too shiny, and that the blackened iron he now wears is a better adornment. It is heavy, and ugly, and a much truer reflection of what it means to be king; of the burden he must now carry on his woefully ill-prepared shoulders. 

There are two with whom he can share it, though. Two who would die for his cause, out of love as much as duty, and one of them is asleep in this very room. 

“Aemond,” he calls, quietly, like he would often do when they were very little and still slept in the nursery. As if to make sure he was still there. “Aemond. Aemond. Aemond?”

“What,” Aemond grumbles, hoarse with sleep, but as irritable as always. He stirs on his cot, wiping the sweat off his brow and shuffling around under the sheet. The soaked shirt is pulled over his head and tossed aside. Too hot.

“I told you,” Aegon says. 

“Are you quite finished,” is his brother’s sullen response. 

It must just be the talking he’s referring to, but. Aegon can’t be sure.

Proof read, but my brain is mush today, so sincere apologies for all the stuff I've missed.

[countrymusiclover]

1 - Two Different Princes

Part 2

A Wolf Among Dragons

Tag list ( just ask to be added ) @tallrock35 @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea @immyowndefender

Author note - if I am getting anything wrong about Daemon or Aemond's characters please let me know how I can fix it for later chapters

At the age of ten and seven I was sent to King's Landing to get used to living my forever life with the King's brother who was to be my husband in the coming days. I wasn’t a fool who was going to believe that love would come from this arrangement. For he was much older than I was and had much more freedom. I thought wrong to my somewhat delight.

“Where are we going, Daemon?” I questioned once he had snuck down to my chambers and awoken me from my sleep.

He insisted that he must show me something that second. He was dressed in an all black cloak with the hood over his easily recognizable Targaryen white hair. “Just wait a minute and you’ll find out. Honestly I never thought you’d be this curious.”

“Simply because I was born a woman I’m told what things I am allowed to know and what I’m not.”

Daemon kept one hand around my forearm leading me out into a large pit like room with many torches lit to provide light in the room. “You’ll not be able to not do something when we’re wed. Just as long as you don't go against your new family. Does that sound like a good arrangement to you, little wolf?”

“Yes, my prince.” He squeezed my arm a little harshly, making me wince but I saw a smirk crossing his face once I had addressed him by his royal title meaning he liked it.

Daemon moved a few steps closer before I saw something coming to us in the light coming off the torch he was carrying in his other hand. “Drakari pykiros, tikummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa , Saelot vaedis, hen nuha eleni, perzyssy vestretis, se gelyn irudaks, anogrose. Perzyo udryssi eztmptos laehossi, harossa letagon, aot vaedan, Hae merot gieruli se haros bartossi, prumysa sovili. ( Fire breather, winged leader, but two heads, to a third sing, from my voice, the fires have spoken and the price has been paid. With blood magic, with words of flame, with clear eyes, to bind the three, to you I sing as one we gather and with three heads we shall fly as we were destined ).”

“By all the gods and new.” I sharply gasped, hanging my mouth open in shock seeing a large dragon head appear above us.

Daemon gazed down at me then briefly at his dragon. “His name is Caraxes and he’s my dragon.”

Caraxes intensely stared down at me and Daemon but by some miracle I wasn’t afraid around the large creature. Especially when I had Daemon beside me, although if he didn’t want to marry me he could very well kill me right now and no one would know. “So what do you think of him-“

I cut him off mid sentence, crashing my lips up onto his letting whatever excitement I was feeling take complete control over me. He leans his body against my chest deepening the kiss and I couldn’t resist doing the same after I had wrapped my arms around his neck.

Daemon finally was the one to break the very heated kiss between two people who weren’t yet married so if anyone had seen it would be found indecent. “Daemon - forgive me , my prince. I shouldn’t have done that.” Looking into his purple eyes I knew I had messed up and done something I shouldn’t have.

“Oohhh Lehna you and I are going to have so much fun together.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine with the same passion I had moments ago.

“Visenya, get back here!” I called out for my six year old daughter who was running so fast ahead of me I wasn't too sure I'd ever catch up with her.

She stuck her tongue out at me looking over her shoulder before rounding the corner and I heard her bump into someone and objects falling onto the stone floor. “Catch me, momma - ow!”

“Are you hurt - Prince Aemond!” I gasped finding her being helped off the ground by the youngest son of Alicent Hightower who had married King Viserys after the death of his former wife Aemma years after I had spent a majority of my life inside the Red Keep.

The current queen had produced two boys and one girl in that time while I had produced two at one time. Daemon’s son Caraxes, named after his loyal dragon, was always attached to his father’s side if he could help it. “You don’t need to be so startled, my lady. The young girl merely slipped on my sword is all. No harm to either of us.”

“Gods be good then. I must apologize again, my prince. We were simply playing tag and she got further away from me than I originally intended.” I gave him a curtsy knowing my place as the wife of Prince Daemon was no more. Meaning I needed to address the young man correctly before.

Aemond rose up from the floor scooping up my daughter with her white hair and my brown eyes into his arms walking up to me slowly. “She’s a little beauty just like her mother.”

“Thank you, my prince.” I smiled, taking her from his arms where he noticed a blade holder on the side of my hip that was hidden underneath one of the layers of my dress.

“Do you carry a sword, my lady?”

Nodding my head slowly, yes I simply answered his question. “I do. My husband saw no reason why I couldn’t be allowed to be taught most things most men think are beneath them or something they can’t comprehend like we’re dumb.”

“You are rather intriguing, lady Lehna.” Aemond smirked back at me.

I blushed uncontrollably. “Thank you, my prince.”

“Call me Aemond. It shall make the conversation much easier between us.”

Visenya laid her head on the crook of my neck, getting bored of our conversation. “Momma, I’m sleepy.” She rubbed her closed eyes with her tiny hands yawning.

“I should be getting her to bed, my pri - Aemond.”

Aemond tilted his head to the side suggesting an alternative option rather than letting our conversation end here and now. “Perhaps we could keep talking after you put her down for a nap. If your husband doesn’t need you, hmm.”

“I don’t have any other obligations at the moment. Walk with me and we can keep talking.” I gestured my head over my shoulder back in the direction of my shared chambers with Daemon.

Aemond raised up a hand forward before we began our walk back where I had previously come from. “After you, lady Lehna.” I wasn’t sure what was going to come of this yet I had no desire to see him leave while Daemon was down in the streets leading the Citywatch of Gold Cloaks.

[cleo-fox]

As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part IV

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which you visit Loki's rooms. Chapter Warnings: Fingering, making out, orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, more of Loki being a horrendous tease.

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

In the light of morning, this all looks like a very bad idea. You are a servant; he is a prince. There is no future with him, certainly, and while he seems to be infatuated with you at present, there’s no telling how long that particular whim will last. You have no guarantee that he has your best interests in mind. Sneaking around after dark was risky enough in itself when you were just going to the library to read—sneaking to a prince’s bedchamber for activities that most would consider indecent is a level of recklessness that you’ve never even come close to before. If Fritjof finds out about this, you are fairly certain you’ll end up in the dungeons.

But at the same time...the idea is appealing in a way that makes the risk seem worth it. Loki is handsome and clever and you like how his wit is as sharp as your own. You like how he makes you feel. You’d had some relationships before—a short-lived tryst with a handsome stablehand, a brief infatuation with a valet, a whirlwind romance with a merchant—but none of them had ever been quite like this. You hadn’t wanted them like you want Loki...and the thought of Loki wanting you is far more intoxicating than it has any right to be.

You should not go. You want to go. You shouldn’t. You want to. You go back and forth with yourself on this for most of the day, to the point that Anja scolds you for your inattentiveness.

There’s part of you, though, that knows all along what your choice will be.

And so, against every shred of good judgment you possess, you find yourself walking to Loki’s chambers later that evening. It’s a nerve-wracking walk and you find yourself jumping at every shadow, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest with every unexpected noise.

He opens the door before you can knock, almost like he can sense how fragile this is, how close you are to turning around and running back to your room, how wildly your heart is beating in your chest.

You’ve never been in any of the royal chambers before and you’re surprised by how immediately out of place you feel. His rooms are beautifully appointed and it only makes you more aware of the plainness of your work dress, reinforcing the fact that you’re not supposed to be here. You smooth your hands awkwardly against the fabric of your skirts as the door clicks shut behind you.

“Are you nervous?”

His voice startles you slightly, though you certainly haven’t forgotten his presence. You turn to face him, your chin jutting out defiantly.

“I am no maiden, if that’s what you’re asking,” you say.

He laughs quietly. “I wasn’t, but I shall take that under advisement.”

Your cheeks burn—you really need to think more carefully before you speak. It’s just that you’re so wildly out of your element right now that you don’t really know how to act, especially not with Loki looking like he means to undress you with his gaze. At least the library is familiar and dim enough to blunt the wrongness of what you’re doing. These beautiful rooms make you feel exposed and awkward.

You square your shoulders and stare him down as he approaches, trying to ignore the obvious smirk pulling at his lips.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says softly, stopping mere inches in front of you. He reaches up, fingers tracing the line of your jaw. “Are you nervous?”

You swallow and try to keep your face expressionless, even though he can surely feel your heart pounding when his thumb grazes your pulse point. “I suppose I don’t really know what to expect,” you say.

He gives you a rather devilish grin and heat flares between your legs. “I rather think you’ll enjoy it,” he says, taking both of your hands in his as he leads you over to the couch in a little sitting area. “In fact, I intend to make sure of it.”

“Once again, your confidence is inspiring,” you say, though your bravado is mostly to hide your nerves.

He chuckles as he sits down, pulling you into his lap so that you straddle his hips, your skirts riding up to the middle of your thighs. “I am looking forward to quieting that wicked tongue.”

“I thought you were going to endeavor to make me scream,” you say.

He chuckles, his large, warm hands stroking up your legs, pausing at your knees. “So dreadfully impertinent.”

“You like it.”

He hums, his hands inching up your thighs. “Not nearly as much as I like the idea of you becoming pliant and yielding under my touch.”

“You certainly have a high opinion of your ability.”

You say this to bait him and you’re immediately gratified by the dark look in his eyes and his hands coming to rest at the juncture where your hips meet your thighs. Your stomach muscles tense in delicious anticipation.

“Do I?” he murmurs, his fingertips gently grazing the thin layer of fabric that covers your sex. “I can feel how slick you are already and I haven’t even touched you.”

Without realizing it, you’ve tilted your head so that your forehead rests against his and he takes advantage of the closeness, slanting his mouth over yours, sliding his tongue along your lower lip until you open your mouth to him. He is equal parts rough and tender, a combination that leaves your head spinning and intensifies the ache between your legs as his fingers press lightly against you. He nips at your lower lip, soothing the sting with a sensuous swipe of his tongue before luring you back into a slow and seductive rhythm that makes it difficult to think about anything other than the taste of his lips, the dull ache building between your thighs, and the hard length straining at his trousers.

He breaks the kiss to look at you, green eyes boring into yours. Your breath hitches as he pushes the fabric of your undergarments aside, his fingers hovering teasingly over your sex.

Your breath has become rapid and shallow. He looks at you, eyes lust glazed, but still cool and calm and completely in control.

“Tell me what you want, darling.” 

There’s a small part of you that still has the wherewithal to be a little annoyed. Of course this is just another game, another trick to play. The bastard has the gall to look amused at how flustered you are, how you’re practically trembling and panting in anticipation of his touch.

But you’re just lust-crazed enough to play along with his tricks and games and his hand is so deliciously close to where you need him. “Touch me,” you murmur.

You decide to ignore the teasing, triumphant glint in his eyes—for now, at least. One finger strokes the very edge of your sex—not where you need to be touched, not anywhere that brings you relief.

“Here?” he asks, his eyes wide with feigned innocence.

You have enough presence of mind to scowl at him. “You know what I want.”

His grin is devilish. “Perhaps I want to hear it from you.”

You sigh, but you decide it’s worth it. “I...I want you to make me come.”

His eyes take on a dark and hungry focus that makes you shiver and his fingers finally—finally—part the slick folds of your sex, circling the swollen nub of your clit. Your eyes close and you let out a breath, a soft moan falling from your lips.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he murmurs.

“Smugness doesn’t suit you,” you say.

He gives a low laugh. “We both know that’s a lie.” He slides one finger inside of you and you can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips. “So slick already,” he murmurs, his thumb sliding up to rub your clit. “Did you touch yourself after I left you last night?”

You had certainly considered it—he had you wound so tightly that it took you nearly an hour to fall asleep. But you also suspected that he would make you wait another night if you took matters into your own hands and you were fairly certain you would die if you had to wait any longer, so you refrained, as difficult as it was.

“No,” you say and the look on his face when he realizes that you’re not lying almost makes the sexual frustration worth it.

“No?” he says, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. “Even after I left you so terribly unsatisfied?”

“You told me you would make it worth my wait,” you say, your hips rocking with his hand. “So I waited.”

The look he gives you is dark and hungry and a little wild. “Good girl,” he purrs and you tighten reflexively around his fingers. You’re almost embarrassed by the effect that his words have on you, but you can’t bring yourself to care overly much, not with the way his fingers are moving inside of you and how his thumb is rubbing those perfect little circles against your clit. Your eyes shut and your head tips back as you moan. A warm, pulsing heat is building in your belly, rising like a tide, waiting to sweep you under.

“Yes,” he breathes, “that’s lovely, darling, you’re so responsive.”

You keen at his words and his fingers curl inside of you, pressing firmly against a spot that makes you see stars.

“Look at me,” he says in that purr of a voice. You somehow summon the concentration to raise your head and lift your eyes to him. “I want to hear you, do you understand?” he says. “No holding back.”

The pleasure is becoming unbearable and you can feel yourself tensing around his fingers, poised on the edge, about to fall. You whimper, your fingernails digging into his shoulders, hips rocking. 

“That’s it, you’re almost there.” His breathing is slightly heavy and he’s looking at you like you’re something wonderful. The hunger in his eyes summons a bolt of longing in you that translates to a physical ache in your hips. The thought of him wanting you like that is a kind of intense thrill that you’ve never felt before—so intense, in fact, that it’s enough to give you that final nudge over the edge and you come with a soft cry.

“Lovely.” He reaches for you and pulls you into a lazy kiss as you ride out the wave of your high. You sigh against his mouth and he nips at your lower lip. “But you were holding back,” he says.

You’re about to ask him why he thinks that, but his hand is moving again and it’s distracting, to say the least. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to make you come again,” he says with a mock sigh, his voice coming out as a bit of a growl. “Do try to follow my instructions this time.”

Distantly, you note that this is the sort of thing that requires a smart and snappy reply, which would be forthcoming if his fingers weren’t doing such unspeakably good things between your legs. With anyone else, it would be too much too close to your previous orgasm, but Loki has an almost uncanny sense of how to touch you. He is coaxing something warm and wicked out of those aftershocks, something that is building low in your hips, making you tighten around his fingers. You’re panting, a needy whimper falling from your lips.

“Yes, darling,” he murmurs, his eyes sliding over you appreciatively. “I want to hear you scream for me. No holding back this time.”

The thing is, you’re not sure you can hold back, even if you wanted to. It’s become rapidly apparent that you’re going to come again and by the way your whole body seems to be anticipating it, you’re fairly certain it’s going to be more intense than the last time.

“Oh, you’re so close,” he purrs. “I can feel that.”

Your breath stutters in your throat as you feel your body tense tighter and tighter, hurtling toward a glorious release.

But then just before you tip back over the edge, he stops, his hand stilling, lips pulling into a smirk. You let out a frustrated whine, your hips moving fruitlessly as you try to capture what had been so easily in your grasp mere seconds ago.

“Something you want, love?” he asks lightly, not even bothering to hide the laugh from his voice.

There’s some distant part of you that’s a little disappointed by how quickly you resort to begging, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now, not while you feel so wildly unsatisfied. “Please don’t stop, please.”

“Are you going to follow my instructions this time?” he asks. “Are you going to scream for me?”

“Yes, yes, please, I promise, please don’t stop, please, please—”

His fingers curl inside of you and begin moving again and you moan loudly, partly from relief and partly because you’re so close and can’t help it and partly because you don’t want him to stop again.

“Yes, that’s it, let me hear you,” he breathes.

Everything seems to slow as the building pressure in your hips suddenly crests and expands. You cry out—almost embarrassingly loudly—as your muscles spasm and release into a rush of feeling that makes your insides fizz. It seems to go on for ages, the aftershocks rolling through you, coaxed on by Loki’s still thrusting fingers and the soothing rumble of his low voice in your ear.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss against your neck.

You lean on his shoulder, your legs trembling as you try to catch your breath. He runs a hand down the column of your spine, gently pressing you against his chest.

You allow yourself to rest for a moment as he strokes your back, your head pillowed against his chest. It’s nice, sitting here like this, though you know you can’t allow yourself to become too sentimental, grow too attached. This is lovely, but temporary. You’d do well to remember that.

After a moment, you sit back up, leaning in to kiss him. He’s soft and languid in his movements—every time you try to draw him deeper, he resists just slightly, giving you just enough to make you long for him even more.

“Do you want more?” he asks, his lips barely moving from yours.

You’re well past the point of pride now. Sated and sweaty as you feel, there’s a lingering ache between your legs, a need for something more than what his fingers could provide. “Yes. Please,” you sigh, fingers tangling in his hair.

He presses a chaste kiss against your lips. “Come back tomorrow after dark.”

You pull back from him, frowning. “You’re not serious,” you say.

“I’m quite serious,” he says lightly, not quite able to hide the amusement from his expression. “I would hate to overexert you.”

Your eyes narrow. “My constitution is quite hearty, I assure you.”

He chuckles and slides out from underneath you. “I believe a very clever woman once told me that a little chase makes the conquest all the sweeter,” he says, standing.

You are not sure if you are more furious with him or with yourself. Of course that line would come back to bite you. Of course. You are slightly too distracted by your own fury and absentmindedly take his hand when he offers it to you.

“Perhaps I won’t be inclined to participate in the conquest,” you say sourly as you stand. “Perhaps I won’t return tomorrow.”

He leans in and kisses you, his tongue expertly parting your lips and returning some of the ardor that he had denied you earlier and that’s all it takes for you to immediately undercut your own point. You press wantonly against him, your fingers threading through his hair.

He is smirking when he pulls back. “I rather think you will.”

You scowl, knowing that he’s right.

Next chapter

[mariondeux]

I kindaa want idia to wreck my ass rn, can i request prince!idia with butler!mReader where's the reader get a rough ass pounding in the throne room with other servant looking.

idia somehow gain confident after seeing butler reader at vulnerable state before ( like reader usually strict and malicious on public just to show people that he's dominant, so probably idia saw reader either jerking himself or something; whining like a submissive boy ), maybe add voice kink and creampie, please ignore if the plot kinda meh or against the rule thanks!! Have a great day <3

— SYNOPSIS ; Idia catches you stroking yourself in a pathetic hiding spot in the throne room. Once he makes his presence known, you immediately apologize and ask for punishment. He’ll gladly punish you.

CW ; NSFW, public sex, throne room sex, voice kink, creampie, rough sex, manhandling, bruises

WORD COUNT ; 828

PAIRING ; Prince!Idia Shroud x Butler!Male!Reader

A/N ; I love this loser so much oh my god.

FEMALE ALIGNED DNI.

This was new. Idia watched as the usually strict and malicious butler (that he thought was annoying at times) acted like a completely different person. Your pathetic attempt at a hiding spot behind a pillar at the far corner of the throne room hardly concealed you. 

Muffled whines struggle to make it past your hand as you quickly jerk yourself off, clearly determined to come as quickly as possible. Your eyes closed, hips bucking up into your hands. Each little whine or whimper that made it past your hand went straight to Idia’s cock. Your usual assertive voice could give him a headache if he heard it long enough, but hearing you whimper like that made him feel things towards you he’d never felt before. This new, vulnerable side of you was absolutely delicious.

Never in a million years would he think he’d ever gain the courage to make such a ballsy move, but the sounds you made were so hypnotic. You were practically begging him to come closer, like a charmer and a snake.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped, using both of your hands to cover your exposed cock. Your eyes widened, blood running cold at the sight of prince Idia Shroud staring at you.

“Your Royal Highness! I apologize for my highly indecent activities. I’ll accept any punishment you give me.” You hurriedly tucked your cock back into your pants, repressing a whine as you hadn’t yet gotten your release. You got onto your knees, body positioned at a 30° angle with your head hung low in shame.

Idia stared at you for a second, taking his time with taking in your vulnerability. A sharp, creepy smile twisted onto his face, showing off his threatening sharp teeth. He enjoyed this side of you more than he should’ve.

“I have the perfect punishment in mind for you.”

When you brought up punishments for your indecent behavior, you were expecting food restrictions, sleeping out in the stables with the horses, or even being stuck with doing most of the maid’s chores. Yet, here you were, tightly grabbing onto the arm of the throne as Idia fucked you into a blabbering mess.

“Oh, fuck- Don’t stop, sir!” You moaned loudly, legs and arms trembling as you struggled to keep your body stable. His cock plunged into you so roughly, tugging at your insides as his balls slapped against yours. Idia’s hands on your waist grew tighter, knuckles nearly growing white under the black leather gloves he wore.

Idia’s body loomed over you, hips striking your ass as the sound of slaps of skin against skin echoed around the room. Your body wavered, feeling your limbs slowly give out from underneath. You couldn’t utter another word, not with constant moans preventing you from trying to form a single syllable word. Your head rested against the arm of the throne as your body leaned further against his. Your right arm lets go of the throne, reaching down and stroking your weeping cock. You weren’t particularly disappointed you received proper punishment. In fact, this form of punishment was the best outcome out of your little slip up.

“I want to hear you whimper and whine for my cock.” Idia grunted, his right hand riding up your back, making you arch into his touch. You let out a shaky hum of confirmation, quickly swallowing up your saliva before you could start drooling over how good your prince was fucking you.

You two had completely forgotten that other staff of the palace had access to the throne room. You two were so engrossed in your own activity that you hadn’t noticed the shock in the other servant’s faces as they watched you go at each other like rabbits in heat.

Idia let out a loud groan at your needy words, fucking you at a frenzied pace as his hands shifted to hold on to your hips with a bruising grip. His head hung low, mouth open as he murmured curses under his breath. He slapped his hips against yours a couple more times before burying his cock inside of your ass as deep as he could go, making you feel his cock pulsate, emptying himself inside of you. He ground his hips, milking every last drop of his semen. 

He pulled out a little, listening to your whimpers as he gazed down at the cum dripping onto the cushion of the throne.

TAGLIST ; @exhokai @shuvies @venniin @4kumaa @ambassadoro @noahrandom @1694 @ajaints @berrycolaa @twst-rui @kytesakuma @secretivemessenger @yumixxn @gay-as-hell-blog @bokutosproperty @rennie-1 @leoyayzies @nazunis @maxx0inwonderland @resluv @kangdae @miyuuuki @harumagi

[someverygaymoth]

Dust, Reaper, and Error from The Horrors in the Wilde! (Dw y'all didn't miss anything we've only met Dust so far— though Error has been mentioned briefly!)

These guys are all seers!

More details about seers(and some silly kinda secret details about the story) below the cut↓↓↓

Seers are downright worshipped in their society. Especially those who are bright enough to understand the cryptic visions they have and accurately predict future events. Those powerful figures are seen almost as religious people, gifted something powerful by the stars and talented enough to carry that gift with confidence.

So, It's a religious thing for them to wear their veils. It symbolizes their devotion to seeing more than what's in front of them, and the service they will do for the empire with their abilities. Different people working under of different members of the royal family wear differently color veils.

Those working under Prince dream wear white veils with golden adornments. Those in service of Prince Nightmare wore black veils with silver, and those closest to him continued to wear their black veils as a symbol of their devotion after his death. Those seers working under the queen wear golden veils with crystal beads rather than embellishments. (The beads hanging from Dust's veil were something he earned after fending off an attempt on the Queen's life.) Though, very few seers work directly for the queen. There's like two crown seers that work as her advisors, directly for her, in the court.

All seers, regardless of whether they work as a seer or as a farmer or as a merchant, trader, doctor, it doesn't matter— they are all expected to wear veils. It's considered downright indecent not to. It would be blasphemy for a seer to take off their veils in front of a non-seer, unless it were like, their parents or spouse.

Dust is one of their most reliable and talented seers. That's why he's in the palace, because he's incredibly talented. He's fended off coup d'états before, assassination attempts, and helped their nation and its allies win battles and wars alike with his predictions.

In chapter 3 Dust actually takes his veil off in front of Cross, a non-seer. And yes, he did casually commit blasphemy when he did that. It would be a sin to take his veils off in front of Cross— Dust actually just doesn't give a shit and wants to look at Cross, and for Cross to look at him, without a stupid veil in the way. It's also considered a romantic thing(as well as a show of great trust, for Dust clearly trusts him not to report this indecency to the queen's court seers), for Dust to take off his veil when they're alone together.

Take that information as you will, hehe.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Airman From Rockcliffe Given Suspended Sentence," Ottawa Citizen. October 7, 1943. Page 12. --- Sgt. Joseph Gerlach, of the R.C.A.F., Rockcliffe repatriation center, was this morning given suspended sentence by Magistrate A. H. Lieff in county magistrate's court, after being found guilty of a charge of theft.

Gerlach attempted to steal a number of sheets, blankets and pillow slips from the Rockcliffe air station.

John O'Meara of Ottawa, who previously had pleaded guilty to a charge of indecent assault against a young woman, was sentenced to six months in jail to date from the time of his arrest on September 12.

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid - Part 5

Pairing: Loki x reader (on going series)

Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental health (depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts), swearing, mentions of torture and rape. Loki being an ass.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Author's note: Sorry for the wait! Work and school got hectic. Hope you enjoy!!

Part 4

Series masterlist Main Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your head is pounding as you begin to stir awake. You groan as your hands sink into the soft sheets. You stop abruptly.

This isn't my cot.

Your heart is racing in panic. Your head is laying on the fluffiest pillow you've ever touched and the silk from the sheets slide smoothly across your skin.

You become acutely aware that you're lying face down again and feel the shiver from the cold across your back. You jolt up and groan out loudly in pain as your wounds on your back stretch from the sudden movement. You’re breathing heavily and shaking as you sit up, feet dangling off the bed.

You take in your surroundings, realizing the room seems very familiar, as you scan the room and notice the emerald green sheets on the bed and the book on the night stand.

I'm in the king’s chambers.

You gasp and your eyes go wide as you fumble off the bed. Your chest is exposed, and you grab onto the first green blanket you spot and cover yourself, so you're decent enough.

You're alone. It's quiet. You turn to the large mirror that is up against the wall facing the bed and examine your back. You notice that it has almost healed completely, leaving thick, ragged scars across your back.

How long have I been out? This should have taken at least one month to fully heal… the wounds are completely closed, the scars are white and red.

You're staring them, realizing that they will forever be there marking your skin of the trauma you've endured.

"You're up." you hear a voice from behind you say.

You scream in surprise and jump in the air, backing away from the sound.

You look up at lock eyes with the king.

"Your majesty, I'm - I don't - I woke up…" you stumble over your words trying to explain yourself. You notice that you are indecently exposed within the kings chambers, uninvited, and hug the blanket closer to your chest.

You decide to stop talking and stare at the floor.

He smirks as he crosses his arms, evaluating the scene before him "I requested Banner clean your wounds after our conversation in the kitchen."

You look up at him confused. Why would he care? He ordered I get whipped for my retaliation… for defending myself… You feel the anger bubbling inside you.

How dare he pretend to care? To make up this act before me when all he has done is make me suffer since the day I arrived.

You say nothing as you bite the inside of your cheek to prevent the words from spilling out. You know the consequences of speaking to a royal in such manner, let alone a king, would land you in much more dire situations than before.

The king takes a tentative step forward and you take a step back. He notices this and stops in his tracks, folding his hands together behind his back.

"You fear me. You despise me." He declares matter of fact.

You say nothing again. I'm much better off keeping my mouth shut. You stare at him with a fire in your eyes. Anger which you can never act upon.

He steps forward again, and you step back.

"I healed you. Your wounds were very badly infected. Banner thought you wouldn't make it past the night. I used my magic but couldn't get rid of the scars… they are too deep." he explains to you.

Because of you, you spoiled sheltered asshole! Oh, fuck it. If he kills me now it will be better than living this so-called life.

You straighten your posture and stare at him directly in the eyes. A sign of confidence and defiance. You think you see a spark behind his eyes as you do this and a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"Why?" you say stoically.

"Why, what? Be specific, darling." he says smugly.

"Why did you heal me?" you ask angrily, voice rising slightly from frustration.

"Because you were hurt."

Your jaw ticks. He's doing it on purpose to piss me off.

"Why do you care that I am hurt?" you push further.

"Hmmmm….." he taps his foot and lifts his chin in thought.

Pompous prick.

"I missed your work as my maid. You were rather thorough." he replies, head tilting to the side in challenge.

That's it. I've had enough. Fuck the consequences.

Your voice rises as you let go of your pent-up anger "Are you kidding me?! You missed my work as your MAID? Am I just an object? A toy you can fuck around with when you're bored?!"

He says nothing as he lets you continue your rant.

"You send those disgusting rats you call guards to beat, rape and abuse the staff all they want. We can't say a damn word about it without getting beaten to a pulp to keep our mouths shut. I have succumbed to MONTHS of this fucking treatment, beaten down like a dog when I refused to submit to the Snake's desires. Every time he said it was a special message from YOU as a result of my defiance.” You point your finger at him and approach him challengingly, eyes seething with rage and pain.

“I don't regret a single thing I did. I wish I would have gouged his fucking eyes out when I had a chance! I defend myself from being forced onto and you order them to whip me because of it?!” What kind a monster are you? I've heard the stories, and I believed them when it came to war, but I never thought you to be so callous towards your own people, your own staff.”

You’re waving your arm in the air and your eyes and stinging, tears forming. You swallow hard and blink them away, refusing to let him see how much pain he has truly inflicted upon you internally. Feeling the anger bubbling up again, you continue.

“Then! THEN, YOU come to MY aid like I'm some damsel in distress? I DON'T DESERVE ANY OF THIS SHIT!" you’re panting and your voice is raw from screaming out your rant.

You realize your breathing heavily and look down at the floor, taking some slow breaths to calm down. The reality of what you’ve just done dawns on you, and you accept your fate. Your eyes become void of everything. When you lift your gaze up to his and lock eyes, you see something flash across his face. Pain? Worry?

"Just kill me now. I don't care what or how you do it just end it already. I will not be treated as a toy you can bend to your own desires and beat for your own pleasure. This isn't a life worth living. I would rather die than live another day inside these palace walls." Your voice calm and stoic.

You stare at him and notice all smugness has disappeared. Now, his jaw is locked, fists tightly at his side making his knuckles turn white. The anger in his eyes terrifies you.

You have nothing left in you to start begging he spare your life. "I understand the consequences of my actions." you say while slowly getting to your knees and maintain eye contact "Nothing I said was a lie, I regret nothing. I only ask for one thing: End it quickly."

You hear him approach you when he stops mere inches away. You close your eyes in anticipation, expecting the inevitable and let out a deep sigh.

You begin to smile, realizing your pain will be over soon and you will be able to join your family again among the stars. You feel a single tear fall down your cheek.

"Get up." he commands. Your brows furrow in confusion as you open your eyes and look up at him.

"Do not make me repeat myself." he says sternly.

You slowly get up and face him. Your neck slightly craned up from his imposing height, to meet his gaze.

“Here. Change in the bathroom. I will be waiting. There is much to discuss.”

You stare at him quizzically, brows furrowing in confusion. What is going on? In your confused and shocked state, you grab the clothes he has outstretched to you and walk to the bathroom. You look at your reflection, your bruises and cuts are gone but the look in your own eyes surprises you. Apathy. You realize you feel nothing, you care for nothing anymore.

Sighing heavily, you throw on the green pyjamas he provided. They are clearly too big for you, but you manage to tighten the shorts as much as possible around your frame with an elastic and the short-sleeve shirt cascades down to your knees.

What will he do to me? Fear courses through you, adrenaline kicks in and you start flinging the cabinets open.

There has to be something in here, please. Your breathing is heavy as you shakily throw things around until you spot the scissors and snatch them.

This is it. Do I do it? I can’t win against him. He’s a god for fuck’s sake! This is my only chance to escape. I know what he is capable of, he will hold me hostage and bend me at his will. I would rather die than let that happen again. I’ll be damned before I let a man control me again.

Your back is facing the door ,wrist outstretched as you raise the scissors. As you begin to lower them towards your wrist, you feel a strong hand grab onto yours, stopping it mid-air.

Suddenly you’re spun around and pinned against the wall, facing the king.

You stare into his eyes and notice the shocking swirl of emotions in his bright emerald eyes as they bore into yours. You don’t understand what it is. It looks like hurt?

His nostrils are flaring, his hand harshly holding yours above your head.

You gulp heavily. Suddenly aware of your proximity to him, your chest only inches apart.

“Drop it.” He commands.

You’re breathing heavily out of… fear? Adrenaline?

Before you can decipher your emotions you feel his hand place pressure over yours as your hand reflexively opens and the scissors scatter across the tile.

“You forget I am a God. I see all, I hear all, I know all.” He says, leaning in closer.

You realise there is no way out. Might as well go out with a bang.

“Do you? Hear all? See all? Know all? Almighty god”. You see his eyes flash and a smirk form across his face.

“Watch your mouth, maid.” He hisses.

“Or what?” you challenged. “You’ll kill me? Throw me to the dungeons? Be my guest. I’ll just try killing myself again until I succeed. I don’t care about this world, it has brought nothing but pain into my life. I don’t care what you do to me, but I’ll be damned before I let another man control me. God or not.” You say through gritted teeth.

He sees your eyes flash with emotions you can’t place.

There she is. Loki thinks to himself.

“I have more fitting plans for a woman such as yourself.” He says as he backs away from you, dropping your hand.

“Try that again, and I won’t stop you.” He says sternly.

“Is that supposed to be a threat? Sounds like a gift to me. By all means…. Please don’t, your highness…” you say as you mockingly curtsy to him.

His grits his teeth as he corners you against the wall once again. His hands begin to glow green.

Momentarily, your eyes flash with fear, then amazement. You turn your head and admire the glow.

“Let me reiterate.” His voice, breaks you from your trance as you look up at him again. He approaches you even closer, your chests barely inches apart.

“Try that again, and I’ll make you wish you were truly dead. Don’t push your luck.” He threatens.

You gulp heavily.

You see satisfaction cross his features as he realizes he has won this argument. He backs away and looks you up down and nods with a smirk.

“Now, as I said, we have much to discuss.” He steps to side and to the bedroom with one arm. You sigh heavily, defeated and with no other choice, you make your way out of the bathroom.

Fucking prick.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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Part 6

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[gravidwithlore]

Your marriage to the King was a union of transaction, just the pure necessity of trade and contract between wealthy nobles ambitious for more wealth. And the King treated you as such. He never bothered with conversation, or compliments. He barely even acknowledged you unless he needed to. And it seemed like his duty to seed you with an heir was the most tedious chore of all. The King was distant as he bred you, eyes squeezed shut as he concentrated on getting the deed done as quickly as possible, leaving you to finish satisfying yourself, if you so chose to.

On one of these briefly scheduled meetings, you mentioned you'd felt a slight swell to your belly and some nausea. The King called in the royal nurses to confirm, and they were quick to congratulate him on his future heirs. You imagined he would breathe a sigh of relief, duty fulfilled, the weekly meetings canceled. But the next week, he arrived right on time, hesitantly feeling the soft barely noticeable swell of your belly as he thrust into you, muttering a gentle command to tell him how you realized you were with child, biting his lip and groaning as you complied.

As you grow, so does the Kings desire for you. Before, he barely gave you enough pleasure for you to even be upset at being left unsatisfied by the end of your meetings. But each new meeting goes on longer and longer, the meetings more frequent and less strictly scheduled. The first time the King makes you cum, you're about 4 months along, your belly already so heavy on your lungs as you lay on your back, legs wrapped around His Majesty as he bucks into you, his hands and mouth roaming across the undeniable baby bump beginning to dominate your frame. He's begun to shower you with praise on how good you are at carrying his babies, his heirs, how ripe and fertile you are, how lucky he is to have negotiated to marry someone so perfectly made to be bred. His mouth begins to drift higher, towards the newly growing swells of your chest, already preparing to feed the future royals growing within you, his lips latching on to your hyper sensitive nipple. At the same time his hand drifts to entirely new territory, between your legs, where he's never bothered to pay much attention, at least where your pleasure was concerned. Between the new sensations of your body and the new sensations of your Kings administrations, you find yourself overwhelmed with pleasure. For the first time in your life, you cum. Your eyes roll back in your head, your legs clamp around your husband's waist, as you squeal in pleasure and babble and beg for him to put another baby in you. Eyes alight with excitement, His Majesty has no choice but to do his best to fulfill your wishes, as impossible as they may be in that moment.

He only grows more and more enamored with you, with your gravid body, as not just your belly grows, but your breasts, your hips, your thighs swell until you barely recognize yourself in the mirror anymore. Not that you have much time to be looking in a mirror with the way your royal husband keeps pawing at your body. The King wants you there at every meeting, every dinner, every possible moment, and when everyone else is dismissed, it's not long before you're both in a state of indecency. It's gotten to the point where the Kings advisors seek you out and beg you to start rebuffing the Kings advances, he's starting to become distracted from his Kingly duties. But you're horny hormone addled brain can much less resist the Kings advances as much as the King can resist losing himself in the new softness of your pregnant body.

When you're just over 9 months along, the babies in your belly big and overdue despite all odds, you sit uncomfortably in the throne next to your husband's as he meets with his advisors. The babes, you'll find out soon enough how many, kick and stretch, uncomfortable themselves in their turned positions. Your belly dropped a few days ago, much to your husband's delight as he fucked you and made you describe exactly how you felt being so full and heavy and close to birth, and now you feel almost overwhelmed by how full and fertile you've become. A twinge flashes across your lower back, then stretches across the stretched dome of your belly. You try to quietly breathe through it, the only sign of your pain a brief squeezing of your husband's hand. He finishes discussing the topic at hand, and waves his advisors out of the room. When the last grumbling noble leaves, he turns to you, his eyes twinkling with warmth, affection, admiration. An expression that would have been completely out of place on the Kings face just a year ago. He can tell your time has come, and gently asks how you'd like him. You heave your heavy body onto his lap, your gravid belly pushing against him, pinning him into his throne. You tell him you'd like him to break your waters right there on his royal throne. And eagerly, desperately, lapping milk from your heavy tits, grabbing onto your ass, your thighs, your waist, like he doesn't have enough hands to hold all of you that he wants to hold, pressing the kicking heavy orb of your belly against him, your beloved husband makes your command a reality.