#ser criston cole x reader

[sublimitymp3]

hi hope you have a nice day :) if you have time could you write hotd's yandere boys (estranged) romantic reaction to his reader wife giving birth to twins? (I apologize in advance if this bothers you or something I swear I didn't mean to :( take care :)

I'm back 😈😈😈

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Aegon was madly in love with you, his darling wife, but he never quite knew how to show it. He had awful habits of drinking, whoring, and gambling, only pushing you further away from him. Each time he'd come crying to you on his knees promising he'd do better, you'd hold him and suppress your feelings, but enough was enough. You were pregnant, carrying his child and he couldn't even make an effort to stop his wanton ways. You were fed up, and rightfully so. You had moved into your own separate apartments, eating your meals alone in your rooms, and avoiding places around the Red Keep you knew your husband would frequent. Eventually, the months passed, and you neared closer to giving birth each day, until one night, your labors finally had begun. Aegon was at some brothel wasting away and getting drunker by the second it seemed. He had no clue you were in the midst of your labors, nor that you would be bringing in not one, but two of his babes into the world. It is only the next day does he wake from his slumber, hungover and feeling ill, does he find out you had given birth. He rushes to your chambers to see you sitting up in bed, cradling two swaddled babes, each one with little tufts of white hair and violet eyes. He'd immediately burst into tears at the sweet sight, begging for your forgiveness and swearing to the old Gods and the new that he would change his lecherous ways for you and his newborn children. Despite your apprehension to forgive him, deep down inside you strangely felt that he would truly honor his promise this time.

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Aemond seemed so cold to you. He was distant and rarely ever spoke to you unless it was necessary. Even when you'd try to initiate conversation he'd only respond cooly with a yes, no, or a simple hum of acknowledgment. You'd tell yourself at night when you lay alone in bed that it could've been worse. He could've been prone to striking you, or he could flaunt paramours in your face. He could've been a drunkard, a wastrel, or a cruel and sadistic husband. However, your efforts to comfort yourself would be in vain, as the feeling of loneliness festered within.

Despite Aemond being a withdrawn husband, you both had done your duty on your wedding night and so it was no surprise you had fallen pregnant. Unbeknownst to you, Aemond was growing more and more obsessive over you once he had been told you were now carrying his child. He didn't mean to be quite neglectful, he only wished to not overwhelm you with his less-than-normal feelings of obsession towards you. He practically stalked you, despite the fact you two were married and expecting a child. The months passed, and Aemond would open up a bit more, showing bits of care and concern toward you in your fragile state. But even then, his actions seemed cold and his words curt. When your labors begin, Aemond remains in the hall outside the birthing room, despite wanting to rush to your side. He decided right then and there as he heard your screams of pain that he would no longer keep up this distant farce. He didn't care if you'd find his attentions odd, he just couldn't bear to torture himself or you any longer. Once he could hear the wails of a baby, he'd rush into the room to be greeted with the sight of two, small, and wailing babes laying on your chest. He'd come to your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he admired your newborn twins with a small smile. You felt hope for your marriage at that tender moment, the first hope you had felt in such a long time.

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Jacaerys loves you so much, he truly does, but sometimes you feel as though he puts his duties of being heir above you. He takes his role extremely seriously, as his mother's claim is already shaky due to her being a woman, and his even more so due to the concerns of him being legitimate or not. He doesn't mean to neglect you, to dismiss your attempts at spending time with him, or to hardly inquire about his babe that grows within you. By the time he notices, the damage is already done. You had given up any attempts to spend time with him, to conversate with him, or to merely be in his presence. It seemed to you that he put his duty before you, and you couldn't see how you could change that. Honestly, Jace is so sweet I can't imagine him not immediately coming to you and apologizing immensely for being an inattentive husband, so for the sake of this, let us imagine he finally realizes the effect his actions have on you by the time you are in the midst of your labors. He'd be pacing outside the birthing room, mentally chastising himself for being so foolish. How could he have ever been so stupid to leave you alone when you needed him most? How could he be so cruel to the one he loved most? Your muffled screams of pain from beyond the door shattered his heart even more, and all he could do was wait in borderline painful anticipation. When the maester does let him in the room, he rushes to your side. He apologizes immensely, kissing your tears away and brushing the hair that sticks to your sweaty face out of the way. When he holds the twins for the first time, you watch him adoringly. Everything seemed right again.

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Ser Criston didn't get to see you much. You two were wedded in secret, as due to his vows as a member of the King's Guard, he wasn't allowed to wed or father children. You were a common girl, living in the city, and Ser Criston spent his days and nights at the Red Keep. He could only visit you on his rare days off, and even then those were kept brisk due to his paranoia someone would discover you. You had always tried your best to be understanding, after all, you knew what you were getting into by being romantically involved with a member of the King's Guard. But an awful thought would always linger in your mind whenever you would see Ser Criston: did he regret marrying you? The thought would persist, never leaving like some parasite that had latched onto you. In fact, as the months passed and your stomach swelled with his child, it only grew. He looked uneasy every time he'd stare too long at your pregnant belly, only feeding that awful thought in the back of your mind. Sometimes, you would even find yourself questioning your marriage to him, doubting it all. Your marriage grew tense, and though none of you voiced these feelings, it was evident the doubts festered within both of you. The day Ser Criston visited you after you had brought his twins into the world, he looked shocked. The color seemed to drain from his face, as he saw them. Not one, but two, living breathing children, evidence he had broken his vows. But the heartbroken expression on your face as you held back tears slapped him back into reality. He would quickly kneel by your side, whispering to you how he loved you and the babes more than anything, and that he regretted nothing. When he finally holds the babes, his smile was so genuine, and his eyes were filled with nothing but love. At that moment, those awful doubts faded from your mind, never to be thought of again.

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Daemon longed for battle. He loved you dearly, and so desperately wanted to stay put with you and your unborn babe. But when the fighting in the Stepstones had begun, and the perfect opportunity to spite his brother for refusing to name him heir arose, he couldn't resist. You had begged him to stay, far too worried for the peril he would most certainly face during battle, and fearing for his life. He brushed you off, leaving you behind.

You spent your nights alone, praying to the Seven to keep your lord husband safe so that your child would have a father. He barely wrote to you, and you found yourself getting more and more frustrated at him for leaving you and your child behind to participate in some war that didn't concern him that much. And it wasn't like he wanted to help for some noble cause, you knew he only joined to spite his brother. Instead of spending the remainder of your pregnancy happy with the notion of your child growing within you, you spent it crying tears of anger and sadness.

When Daemon first hears word from a messenger that you had given birth to healthy twins, he abandoned his petty attempts to establish his own kingdom to spite the king. He would return to you as fast as he could, proud that you had given him two strong and healthy heirs. Daemon wasn't the best at saying apologies and preferred to show them through actions. The Stepstones could wait, all he needed right now was to be with you and the newborn twins.

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when that 3am inspiration pulls you out of your sixth month hiatus 😍

[justinalovee]

𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Targaryen reader x multiple characters

Word Count: 2468

Warnings: Incest, oral, threesome, P in V, masturbating, fingering, lactation kink, spit kink, possessiveness

Summary: Rhaenyra and her lover have different sexual encounters with characters in the HOTD universe

A/N: All characters are 18+! minors DNI. Alicent isn’t married to the king. Although there is incest, Nyra doesn’t have sex with her siblings

Aegon

Rhaenyra beckons her brother, who is sitting on a chair at the foot of the bed, with the index finger of her free hand, “Aegon, come closer.”

Aegon downs the rest of his cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Nervously, he kneels between your legs, leaning down to get a closer look at your glistening cunt.

“Do you see?” Rhaenyra asks, opening your folds with two fingers. “This is how wet she needs to be each time you lay together.”

Aegon looked lost in a haze. He had staggered into his bedchambers, hoping to sleep off his drunken state, but instead found you waiting on his bed with Rhaenyra by your side. Rhaenyra wasn’t happy when she heard of your betrothal to a green, but you assured her that Aegon had been led astray by his mother and grandsire.

You wanted him to fall in love with you.

It was the king's idea to have you marry his eldest son, despite his daughter and Queen Alicent’s protest. The king hoped that marriage and children might bring his son some happiness. In truth, you wanted that for Aegon as well. If he was happy with you, then he’d follow you to Dragonstone. Not only would it mean you would have another dragon and its rider on your side, but he might have a chance of a better life away from the poisonous vipers he currently lives with. You believed that you could live in harmony by each other's sides in Dragonstone once you reached his heart.

But the way to a man like Aegon Targaryen's heart was through his cock.

Having been your lover for some time, Rhaenyra offered to help you gain his interest the night before your wedding. A tiny part of her was jealous as well that she was no longer going to be the only one who touched you, but she could make peace with sharing you.

Aegon nodded. His shyness confused you, as he was known to have slept with many women before. Maybe the shock of seeing Rhaenyra show him how you like to be eaten out had him temporarily frozen.

Rhaenyra smirks. “She truly is divine. Do you want to taste her?”

The mere thought of Aegon and Rhaenyra taking turns licking and sucking at your most sensitive area sent a shiver down your spine.

Rhaenyra shuffles back in the bed until her knees are behind your head. She watches with wide eyes as Aegon grips your thighs with his hands, pushing your legs open further to accommodate him. Gently, he licks through your folds, causing you to let out a soft moan.

You glanced up at Rhaenyra and pouted; you wanted to repay the earlier favour of her giving you pleasure. While she’s distracted, your hands snake up to the front of her dress. You pinch her nipples through the material, pulling her down close enough so you can touch her with your mouth. Rhaenyra pecks at your lips and says, “Tell me, sweet girl, how does it feel?”

"So good; Aegon knows what he’s doing."

You tug at Aegon’s silver locks, holding him in place, when he rubs at your clit with his thumb. You gasp, looking down at the sight of him between your legs. "Gods, I’m so close... I’m going to cum in your mouth."

Aegon smirks before quickening his movements. You pull the grey fabric of Rhaenyra’s dress down at one side so her breasts are exposed. You latch your lips around her nipple, licking and sucking on her skin.

Feeling your inner walls start to flutter around your betrotheds tongue you pull his hair tighter, “fuck! I think we are going to be very happy together.”

Aegon gives you a devilish smile before pushing his tongue further inside you.

Aemond

Aemond drives his cock into you faster and harder. He was determined to make you cum multiple times after reading that a woman having an orgasm helps her become pregnant. He licks two of your fingers then rubs them against your clit, saying, “You're going to look like a goddess when you are swollen with my child.”

“Our gorgeous princess,” Rhaenyra adds.

A chesty growl erupts from Aemond, who continues to slam into you, his hands roughly pinning you down by your hips. His hatred for Rhaenyra seems to spur him on.

Usually you hate being caught in the middle of your husband and his elder sister's spats, but right now you are enjoying this.

Aemond had returned from dragon riding earlier than intended to find Rhaenyra between your legs in your shared bedchamber. He knew of your relationship with the heir to the throne but hardly mentioned it. He excused himself and was about to leave until Rhaenyra made a snide comment about being able to fuck you better. Minutes later, he had pulled you away from his sister and shoved his cock deep inside you.

You couldn’t see your husband, but you were sure he was glaring at Rhaenyra. She pinches your nipples and moans as you tease her slit with your finger. Watching you get fucked turned her on more than she thought possible. “Good girl,” she praises. “You're doing such a good job pleasing me while getting stuffed full.”

You nip at the side of her thigh before smacking a hand on her clothed cheek. Rhaenyra had wanted you to make her feel good but wouldn’t go bare in front of her brother, so to compromise, she removed her small cloth and held the bottom of her dress up high enough so she could place her thighs on either side of your head.

You found it erotic that your husband couldn’t see what you were doing to the other women, and likewise that you couldn’t see what he was doing to you.

“Qogralbar! harder, kostilus!” Fuck! Harder, please!

“Such a needy girl,” Rhaenyra remarks.

You flick your tongue over her clit while bringing both hands underneath her dress to feel her skin. You link your arms around her thighs to bring her down until she’s sitting on your face. You spread her cheeks, gathering wetness from her core. You use it to lubricate your finger, then slide it along her slit until you reach the hole. Slowly, you insert a finger into her ass while devouring her cunt with your mouth.

“You have a very dirty wife, brother; you must be very happy.”

“Very,” he snaps. “Just remember, she is mine! Mine to play with, mine to lay with every night, mine to fuck heirs into.”

Not taking the bait Rhaenyra just hums in agreement. “Her breasts will be so full and swollen when she’s pregnant.”

Aemond sends you over the edge when he flicks at your clit, causing you to moan loudly into Rhaenyra’s pussy. As she starts to rock her hips, she’s fucking herself against your finger and mouth. Feeling you squeeze around his cock, Aemond twitches inside you and then groans as he spills his seed.

You try to wrap your legs around his waist to keep him closer to you, but he leans back, collecting the cum that’s spilled out onto his fingers, then pushes it back inside you. “We are going to be here all night, wife,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone. “It appears you’ve forgotten who you belong to. So I need to remind you that you will not be leaving this bed until I’m sure you’re with a child.”

Ser Criston

After relentless teasing from you, Ser Criston finally snapped and let you push by him, making your way into your cousin's bedchamber, knowing you spent most nights in the princess room. Of course he followed you inside the room to scold you for acting like such a brat, but what he didn’t know was that Rhaenyra was already waiting for you both.

Now the knight stood palming his crotch, watching as two of your fingers disappeared inside of Rhaenyra. Her back was pressed against your chest, with her legs wide open, facing Criston, giving him a full view of all her glory.

You had never felt Rhaenyra so wet before; her slick left a wet patch below. You had made her cum twice already, once with your mouth and again with a cock made out of siltstone. She was quickly on her way to a third orgasm, but you didn’t want it happening around your fingers. You wanted to see her cum around the knight's dick.

Rhaenyra leans her head back against your chest and moans, “Care to join us, Ser Criston?”

The knight doesn’t reply with words but swiftly lowers his trousers enough to pull his hard cock out. You remove your fingers from Rhaenyra’s pussy and bring them to her lips for her to lick clean. You remove your fingers from her mouth with a pop, then move to the side so Rhaenyra can lay on her back. You gently take Criston’s cock in your mouth and bob back and forth, taking in as much of him as you can. You smirk as he grips your hair, holding it out of your face as he starts to thrust it into your mouth.

Rhaenyra whines as she grows impatient.

You remove your lips from Criston’s cock. You begin to massage his balls with your hand and turn your head to the princess, watching as she squeezes her own breast.

“I’m so dry,” she pouts.

Smirking, you open your mouth and let saliva fall onto her breasts. You stay like that for a few moments before turning your attention to her glimmering pussy and spitting on it, causing the knight to let out a grunt. You lick the tip of his penis, then spit on it, before guiding his cock into Rhaenyra. You feel slick running down your thighs, watching as he disappears inside her, both of them groaning loudly as he does.

Criston grips you by the jaw and pulls you in for a rough kiss. When your lips part, he pushes you back so you're lying beside Rhaenyra and thrusts his fingers into you. Your lips clash with Rhaenyra’s own, as she cups your face gently.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping together and moans. Rhaenyra comes first, and Ser Criston follows shortly after. He pulls out of her quickly, spilling his seed onto her stomach.

“Hey!” You protest when he suddenly withdraws his fingers from you, “I haven’t cum.”

He leans down and kisses your cheek. “I know, princess, it’s not nice to be teased, is it?”

Ser Harwin

You moaned pitifully, “Gods, that feels good.”

“You feel so tight, my love,” Rhaenyra says, smiling at you before taking your husband's cock back into her mouth while her fingers that are coated in your slick slide in and out of your pussy easily.

Harwin chuckles into your breast before continuing to suck on it. He loved nothing more than sucking, biting, and squeezing your breasts since the day you were married, but his infatuation grew when you became pregnant for the first time. He quickly discovered that fucking heirs into you and fucking you while swelling with his seed was the prettiest sight he'd ever seen.

Sensing he was getting close, Harwin withdraws his cock from Rhaenyra’s mouth and looks up at you, traces of milk still on his lips. “You taste amazing as always, my dear wife.”

Rhaenyra gets off the bed, goes to the other side of you, and crouches down, taking your other breast into her mouth. Having children herself, the princess knew the relief that came from breastfeeding, although she found it pleasing whenever she saw Harwin suckling from you.

After licking your breast for a moment, Rhaenyra places herself in a different position again, this time in front of you, and begins to worship your cunt with her mouth, careful not to hit her head against your large bump. You tilt your head to the side to get a better view of her bare body, watching as her own hand disappears between her legs.

You grip Harwin’s cock in your hand and begin to stroke him, enjoying the way he twitches in your hand.

Harwin pants, “Soon as I spill my seed, I’m going to spend the rest of the evening making you cum.” He kisses up your neck to the side of your face, “and watching you make Nyra come apart with your beautiful mouth while I fuck you full of my seed again, and again.”

He returns his attention back to your leaking breasts, and your body squirms in delight at the promise of what’s to come.

Alicent

“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?” Rhaenyra coos in your ear before kissing the back of your neck.

You look down at Lady Alicent, who is beneath you. You brush her thick brown hair out of her face, admiring how shiny it is as she sucks on your clit.

The first time Alicent caught you and Rhaenyra in a compromising position together, she was horrified; her cheeks blushed red as her eyes came together in fury. She insisted the Targaryens had queer customs before storming off. A few days passed before you approached her in the gardens and explained. Ever the lady, she agreed not to speak of it again; however, curiosity got the better of her. The same evening she visited Rhaenyra’s chamber, and now Lady Alicent would become jealous if you and Rhaenyra explored each other's bodies without her present.

When Alicent moans, sending vibrations onto your cunt, you look over your shoulder to see Rhaenyra has pushed two fingers inside her. Your eyes briefly flash to the bedroom door, and you wonder if your cousin's sworn protector is oblivious to the noises he hears.

Alicent continues to flick her tongue over your clit, saying, “I’m close.”

Rhaenyra slows the pace of her fingers so Alicent can focus on you, making you cum first. You gripped the sheets beneath you, clenching them as your orgasm approached. Your hips sway slightly as you start to bounce against Alicent’s fingers when she slips them into you.

“Do you want me to cum in your mouth, Lady Alicent?” You ask.

She nods.

Your legs begin to tremble as the coil tightening in your lower stomach snaps, and you cum hard. Your slick is soaking Alicent’s fingers and face.

“Fuck,” you pant, moving off her to lay down beside her. You pepper kisses on Alicent's face, saying, “My pretty girl, you did such a good job. That was truly remarkable.” You look over at Rhaenyra, who is grinning at you. “I think our Lady should be shown the same treatment, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

I'm thinking of turning a couple of these into miniseries, but I'm not sure which ones😂

[starogeorgina]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞

The king’s queen and hand

Paring: Aegon ii Targaryen × reader x Ser Criston Cole

Warnings: Swearing, smut

“Anyone walking by would think I have invited a whore from the streets of Silk into our bed.”

You swat at Aegon’s arm, “shush.”

The playfulness in your husband's voice brings a smile to your face. He has been attending small council meetings until late hours most nights discussing war plans, and by the time he returns to your shared apartments, you are fast asleep, so the intimacy has been lacking, and you crave nothing more than Aegon’s attention.

With your back pressed against his chest, you feel a vibrating ripple from him as he chuckles, “Am I wrong?”

“Oh gods,” you whine loudly, gripping onto Aegon’s wrist as he speeds up his movements of sliding two fingers in and out of your dripping cunny while rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit. His free hand is squeezing roughly at your clothed breast.

Aegon grazes his teeth against the back of your neck; he loved how obnoxiously loud you were being.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, and your body shudders with pleasure. “You're doing so well, taking my fingers,” Aegon whispers. “But I think you're ready to take more.”

“I want all of you, now.”

“Patience sweet wife,” he removes his fingers from you, leaving you with an ache between your legs that was verging on painful. “I have a surprise for you.”

A tingling sensation shoots through you. Aegon shuffles further back on the large bed that dominates the room until he hits the pillows, then motions for you to do the same. Your hand skims across the soft velvety emerald green sheet below, which matches the canopy adorned with gold thread and embroidered with intricate symbols including burning flames and dragons, before you sit between your husband's thick thighs again.

Hearing the clicking sound of the door closing, your head snaps up, and you lock eyes with the king's hand, who was wearing comfortable clothing instead of his usual armor. “Ser Criston,” heat rushes to cheeks; you were thankful that you hadn’t begun to undress yet. “I wasn’t expecting to see you; the hour is late.”

Criston stares at you for a long moment, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Forgive the intrusion, your grace, but the king requested I come at this hour.”

You sit upright and look over your shoulder to face your husband. “Aegon?”

The candlelight flickers softly, casting shadows across the room making your brother-husband's lilac eyes glisten, and his expression even harder to read than normal. In high Valyrian Aegon says he knows about your conflicting feelings towards the knight, who was not only the hand of the king, but your former sworn protector.

Your mouth goes dry. “What is your suggestion?”

It was common for the occasional lady to join you and Aegon between the sheets since you both found pleasure from it, but never before has it been suggested that another man joined. You assumed the surprise he mentioned would be a new toy, oil, or even a new outfit designed for your husband’s eyes only.

Aegon licks his lips, “for the king's hand to fuck you. Is this something you want?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“What do you say, Ser Criston? I see the way you look at my wife, and until the war is won, I cannot always be here to protect or satisfy her myself.”

Licking at his lips, Ser Criston looks down at the ground.

You lean forward and mumble into Aegon’s cheek, “I don’t believe he wishes—”

In the blink of an eye the knight is standing at the foot of the bed, “I believe what you are suggesting would be improper my king, I do not wish to offend her grace.”

Aegon reaches his hands down over your shoulders and slowly unlaces the front of your dress, revealing your breasts. “You can leave anytime Cole, or join me in pleasing our queen.”

The sexual tension in the air thickens as Aegon’s hand brushes against your thigh, slowly pulling your skirts up higher sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. You could feel the heat emanating from your husband's body as his soft stomach pressed into your lower back, fuelling your desire. In a low voice you say, “no offense would or will be given Ser Criston.”

Aegon smirks against your neck.

Kneeling on the bed, Cristion’s eyes widen in anticipation as he stretches his arm out to slowly reach out to touch your breast. He traces his fingers over your nipples, causing them to harden under his touch. Sensing Criston was nervous, you decided to take the lead. You grip Aegon’s hand and press it against your other breasts; his touch is a lot rougher than the knights. You raise your skirts enough until your cunny is completely bare.

“My wife is wet and desperate to be touched.” Aegon rubs his thumb against your clit again, causing you to whimper. “Get on with it, Cole, or this chance will slip away.”

Criston seems lost in thought as he stares off for a moment as if he’s contemplating what to do. You half expected him to excuse himself and leave, but the knight surprises you by suddenly untying his breeches and lowering them enough that his hard cock springs free.

Aegon gives you a mischievous grin and says, “You’re going to enjoy this, my queen.”

You respond by clashing your lips against his while instinctively moving your legs open to make space for the knight. Criston presses the tip of his hard cock against your dripping hole, pushing into you slowly and stretching out your tight walls.

You moan at the stretch, “Oh gods!”

Criston grips your chin, turning your head away to face him so he can kiss you. His lips are softer than you imagined. Aegon hooks his hands under your knees to bend them back, opening you wider as Criston speeds up his thrusts.

Lightly, you tap at Aegon’s thigh and motion for him to move to the side. You lay completely flat on your back and fumble to pull his breeches down. You take Aegon’s cock in your hand and begin to stroke him before licking at his tip and taking him into your mouth.

“My queen, your cunt is so tight.”

Your free hand finds Cristion, linking fingers with his as his thrusts become sloppy. If your mouth wasn’t muffled by cock, you’d be moaning both of their names.

“Fuck!” Criston pulls out just as he cums, coating the outside of your cunny and thigh with his seed.

“It’s your mess, Cole; clean it up.”

When Criston goes to reach for a cloth, Aegon clicks his tongue and says, “With your mouth. And don’t stop until she cums.”

Without argument, Criston kneels between your legs and licks up your slit, tasting your wetness mixed with his seed eagerly. This continues for a few months until both you and Aegon climax at the same time, and his cum spills down your throat as your juices cover the knight's face.

—

You bask in the comfort of your husband's arms and the warmth from the water covering you from the chest down.

“May I ask what is in the box?”

A dark red leather box had been placed on the small table near your tub by one of your ladies a few hours prior. You were so exhausted from your activities the night before that you hadn’t had a chance to gift the item inside yet.

Stretching out, you lean further into his embrace. “I will deal with it shortly.”

“And which one of our children is this for?”

“It’s not for the babies. I’ve got a new collar made for my dragon.”

Aegon nuzzles his face into your neck, “dragon and children alike are spoiled just like their mother.”

“Me? Spoiled?”

He nods, “Not only do you have me wrapped around your finger, it appears the king's hand is bewitched by the sweetness between your legs also.”

“Hmm, I do hope so.”

[bucknastysbabe]

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Exhibitionism, infidelity, Aegon’s a dick in this one but it’s bc he’s Insecure, voyeur-ish, oral f!receiving, Criston Lives To Serve Women, one-sided feelings, doggy-style, pnv!sex, multiple orgasms, it Appears Mr. Cole is being Used but nah she wants to crawl inside his armor, BI AEGON RIGHTS!!!!

A/N: This was alternately labeled ‘Mr. Criston dicks down’

Criston dragged Aegon’s limp form into the bed, carelessly throwing the stinking wretch into the fine bedding. Once again picked up from a night out, the knight had received a tip from a gold cloak that your idiot husband was getting fucked with the curtains opened, the blonde’s loud moans and pink prick on display for all to see on the Street of Silk.

Aegon mumbled and rolled on his side, covering his face with a pillow, snoring within seconds. You could still see the slick stains on the seat of his ass and frowned. He’d take cocks before he drank enough to take you. You held your arms around your robed waist and murmured, “Thank you Ser.” You couldn’t bear laying back down beside him. Misery wafted off you in waves.

Criston remained silent, presence looming, warm leather sliding along the bared crook of your neck. The brunette thumbed at the rigid muscles at the base of your skull— always drawn tight. You feebly moaned, falling back into his intimate embrace. His other hand possessively splayed across your waist to your stomach, fingertips tightening just-so.

The knight murmured, “He’s so much easier like this. I can feel you relaxing already.”

Your shoulders were unbearably tense. Criston moved his other hand to clamp down on your tender muscles. It was a pleasant feeling, warm pressure aided by softened leather. His familiar scent engulfed you, the man nosing at your hair and inhaling.

Lulled from your lover’s warm hands and presence you whispered, “He dishonors me. My entire family.” Criston dug the heels of his palms into your muscles, earning another helpless moan. The knight growled, “I know sweetling. I know”, his grip tightened, “I thought about leaving the sot and taking you in this bed all night. He’s like a poison vine, crawling atop everything, leaving it’s mark.”

You turned up to look at Criston’s thinned lips, thick brows furrowed and dark eyes boring into Aegon. You reached up to caress a stubbled cheek, soften his raging frustrations. He let out a deep breath, the leather vice on your body loosening.

Cautiously you turned further, now facing your dear knight. He looked upset still, swearing, “He has no shame. No cares. Fucking fool, as much as I cared and loved for the boy.” Now your smaller hands held his tanned face, catching those dark orbs, immediately softening upon your gaze.

“Do not fret Criston, you’ve eased the burn, burdened what you did not have to. I’m blessed to have you in my arms.

The brunette swallowed thickly, emotions welling. He croaked, “I’d never not stand against who dishonors the future queen. All of those limping lordlings can attest to that. I’m blessed further to have you, Princess. I’ll take your burdens until I leave this world.”

He leant down to take your lips, gentle and kind. Your palms snuck up into his pretty curls, lightly tugging and scratching his scalp. Criston sighed against your breath, tongues dancing in an experienced form. His big hands made slow circles from your waist, hips, to ass. The white knight kneaded at the softer flesh, groaning your name.

Only the sound of Aegon’s drunken snoring intertwined with your heightening breath and soft sighs of pleasure. You asked against his moist lips, eyes fervent, “Take me, I need you love.” Dark brown sought your own, Criston’s eyes moving to and fro. He eyed the defiled Aegon and nodded briskly.

“If he awakes, this could go very wrong my princess,” he murmured with a worried gaze.

“If he awakes I hope he feels dishonored as I have been. He’d probably think it was a dream.”

The blonde actually had no clue. He was too self-absorbed, laughed off the japes about the white knight over his wife, under the bed. Aegon would laugh, “I think the sot still burns over my cunt sister, how tragic. The bastards might’ve been his.” He’d eye you, lips pouting, body stiff, “Afraid you and the ‘Realms Delight’ have little in common. I think he likes a little fire.”

Criston physically flipped you out of the horrid memory. Your upper body was pinned to the bed, eyes gazing up at those bite-swollen lips and messy white hair. You wanted him to hurt, just as you and your lover had. Turning your head to face the Dornishman you undid the robe and lay bare to his gaze now, always undone by the look of reverence.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful, let me have a taste first? Please princess?,” he begged, eyes shiny and wide, desperation pitching his voice. You nodded assent, mouth falling open as his perfect lips kissed your rapidly swelling cunt. He moaned into you, gloves carelessly tossed by now, calloused fingers brushing your soft skin.

He gripped at your thighs while lapping up to that precious bundle, stubble scraping against delicate skin. You writhed backwards, crying out softly and grabbing a handful of thick curls. “C-Criston, oh, ha!”

He’d slipped two big fingers inside a now-weeping cunt, wet mouth suckling at your button. The man had to hold a hip to keep you down, shaking apart at the seams. You were whimpering and yanking at his hair, cunny shivering and twitching around Criston’s crooked fingers— lazily beckoning your orgasm to make its way down.

He shoved a third finger in and flicked the hood of your bud, once, twice, then in rapid succession with an expert tongue. Now you didn’t even hold back the wail, finishing messily on your lover’s face. He groaned and lapped, purring little praises, big hands still kneading trembling flesh. You wanted more, now, let your dear Criston consume you.

He huffed a laugh when you slowly hiked a leg up, then another, exposing your puffy core to him. Criston breathed against your skin, a lilt to his tone, “Are you needy sweetling? Need my cock while your fool husband is sleeping in the same bed?” He snickered while getting up to loosen his breeches and some outer armor.

“I wonder if he’s even moved? I had a better view than you, my princess.”

You sneered over your shoulder, “Lucky you, hm?”

Criston grinned as he eased one knee onto the bed, hand guiding his heavy cock forward. You whined again, the blunt tip practically a tease. Reaching backwards with a grunt you pulled his hips flush to your ass. There was a dull slap, your cry of ecstasy, Criston’s winded ‘fuck!’

He smacked your ass and growled, “Not needy, ravenous,” he pressed his warm body to your back, “absolutely ravenous.” You nodded in jerks, skin erupting into a sweat, goosebumps up and down your bared skin. Criston’s sculpted lips kissed and mouthed against your nape, winding your hair around his left hand.

You stuttered weakly, “C-come on my l-love, s’full.”

He grinned against your skin, shoving his lean hips forward. The knight murmured in a teasing lilt, “Mhm dove? Feel how much I desire you? How you drive me insane? I’ll ruin you for any other— including that one.”

He punctuated the end of the sentence with a pointed thrust, jerking your head upwards to stare at Aegon’s puffy face. He was still out, twitching a bit. You mewled, “You already have, take me- take me!” Keeping tanned skin plastered to your own, he fucked you rough and quick.

You had no time to adjust— grunts and cries forced out by his ever-moving cock. The brunette’s right hand held your waist, crooking your back for a better angle. He still had your head facing Aegon, gloating in the debauchery in front of your husband’s face.

You bucked back onto the familiar girth, whining your white knight’s name. He didn’t let up, abusing your already sensitive cunt. Although still were a bit tender from earlier, the burn was exquisite. Your hands wrenched in the bedspread were ordered by your lover to grope at your tits, play around with an overused clit.

He panted into your ear, “Such a good sweetling, s-sucking me in, keep it up.”

You turned to meet his lips, sloppily mashing your mouth against his. Criston whined deep in in his chest, opening up to drag his tongue across yours. It was a messy affair, the pair of you too busy chanting litanies of sweet names between swears. His hips began to drag into disjointed little grinds, Criston’s pretty eyes scrunching tight.

He begged against your drooling lips, “C’mon- haaah- c’mon.” He helplessly gasped and jerked into your tightening cunt. You nodded, eyes lidded and hazy, promising, “I’m right there, oh my love, my sweetheart.” Reaching up to caress his stubbled cheek you looked forward. Criston was whining softly against your face with his eyes closed and mouth agape, so lovely, the picture of erotic pleasure.

Aegon’s violet eyes were a different story. They were open in shock, staring dead on. His plush lips opened, closed, opened— gaping like a fish. At that moment Criston struck gold and you seized with a high cry, wailing your lover’s name. The orgasm that hit you was extra sweet layered with self-satisfaction.

Criston stuttered, “O-oh gods, gods, fuckyesyesyes, I’m coming for you, yes!” He shoved his face into the crook of your neck, pretty nose mashed into your skin as he moaned long and whorish. You gasped, grinning, cooing, “That’s it my love, fill me up, yes, good boy.”

Aegon’s plush lips wobbled, his face blotchy with something. Did he really expect you to cry and wait for his attention all this time? The knight beside and inside you came to, lashes fluttering. He laughed, “You’re dreaming princeling, go back to sleep.”

The blonde croaked, “But she’s mine.” He was dumbfounded, still drunk out of his mind. Tears gathered in those Valyrian eyes. You couldn’t help but giggle at Criston’s ploy. Purring with satisfaction you added, “Roll over fool, you’ll wake up with a pounding head and a wife that doesn’t fuck your Kingsguard. Although she dreams of it.”

Aegon looked lost and sad but did so, rolling over and away from you two. Criston laid a possessive peck on your cheekbone, snickering, “Didn’t think he’d get all weepy about it.” You shrugged and replied, “Good. If he wasn’t such a brat I wouldn’t play this off. Need you too much.”

The brunette grinned easily, nosing against you. He rasped, “True. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up dove.” He slid out with a hiss and the pair of you got quickly dressed— lest Aegon awaken again. You sent off the sweet knight with one more kiss, him escorting you to your separate chambers for the night. You wouldn’t sleep next to the drunk sot.

“Would you fuck Cole if you had the chance?,” Aegon asked abruptly during breakfast. It was just the two of you, the prince requesting a private audience. You raised a brow while nibbling on cheese, humming, “Why would you ask that? I’m sworn to you.”

He frowned, sagging into his chair, eyes rimmed and red. He muttered, “Had a strange dream, you were fucking Cole in our bed last night.” You laughed, a sudden burst. The prince hissed, “It wasn’t a joke, nor very pleasant. He’s a dumb dog, loyal to whoever throws a bone.”

You replied, “He’s merely chivalrous. Pretty face. Shame he’s common-born.” Aegon scoffed, biting into his meal.

“You’ll have no one but me,” he stated.

“Of course, husband dearest. You do love to remind me of that,” you said absently.

Aegon leveled you with a look, an attempt to intimidate. All you saw was fear. The prince’s crippling fear of being alone. Oh. It felt so good. You hoped next time he doesn’t fully wake up.

[aelenavelaryon]

Hey guys! This story will have three or four parts. Or at least I’m hoping it will. Also, please bear with me as I recently started posting here so things are still new to me. I’m not quite sure on how to use tumblr to post yet so it might take a while! Thank you! 🤍

Robert Baratheon x Reader

Summary: In which history repeats itself once again. Or does it?

Robert had known young Rhaenyra all his life and they were sort of friends and some would even say they were somewhat close. When he sat on the Iron Throne she was the only one brought out, Jon Arryn saw it fit for the eldest of the Targaryen's to be the one to confront Robert. There she stood, in the middle of the room. All the lords eyes were on her. She said nothing, what could she say? "Your brother is dead" was the first thing Robert said to her. "I killed him. I wish I could kill him again" Rhaenyra's eyes filled with tears but none fell out. She didn't want to cry. She wouldn't allow them that satisfaction.

"What will happen to us?" she asked. "To Viserys, to Jaehaerys" everyone turned to her as he said the other name. "Who is Jaehaerys?" Jon asked. "He is my son. My son with Brandon Stark" Brandon lived but he was now married to Catelyn. "He is married to Catelyn Tully now" Robert said and she nodded. "I know" she replied. "The boy is a bastard" Tywin said and she glared at the man. "Kill her now. Avoid another rebellion" Tywin Lannister said and everyone turned to look at him. "I know you would like that, my lord. Did you enjoy having Elia and her children murdered as well?" she asked. "Lannisters. They have always been traitors. That has not changed in the past two hundred years it seems" he took a step but Ned Stark stood near her.

"Princess Rhaenyra is not at fault for her brother's sins. She is innocent" he spoke for her. "She's a whore! She and that bastard son of hers will bring nothing but trouble to the realm just as her brother has!" Tywin said. Ser Arthur, pulled out his sword as did Ned. "Hold your tongue, Lannister" was all Ser Arthur said. "Mind your tongue, Lannister" Robert stood in front of her. Rhaenyra was known as the Realm's Angel. or the Realm's Desire. Some even called her the Realm's Delight, referring at the nickname the realm gave the black queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, her ancestor.

"I propose a marriage between King Robert Baratheon and princess Rhaenyra Targaryen" Jon said making both Robert and Rhaenyra to look at him. "She's a child" Arthur said. "A child who bore a healthy son" Tywin scoffed. "She's been sullied. She cannot marry a king" he stated. "Robert has bed at least half of Westeros. It will not matter. Let's remember that House Velaryon, House Tyrell, and House Martell still support house Targaryen. This will ensure the peace in the realm. Specially after the chaos that this rebellion imposed on the realm" Robert looked at Rhaenyra. She was a child. She was seven years younger than him. She nodded. She did not object. She hoped that as the queen she could keep her son and brother safe.

It wasn't long before she was married off. The princess did not complain, she did not fight, she obeyed. They got married on the Great Sept. Brandon arrived with his family. With his wife and their son. Their legitimate son. It was said that Brandon loved her, he married Catelyn Tully for duty. He married her so her father could be on their side when the war was just beginning. He loved Rhaenyra as some said she loved him. But, the world will never know if she loved him as much as he did her. That was another secret she would take to her grave.

She sat with her husband as he drank himself numb. Robert didn't love her, she was sure he never would but he cared for her. When she arrived to her new chambers she found a box, inside laid three eggs. One was a black with red. The other was red with gold, and the other one was a blue and white color. Robert arrived a while later. The two did her their duty as quick as possible, Robert tried to be gentle but Rhaenyra was a woman of passion and asked for more and he complied. Perhaps it would not be so bad.

Princess Rhaenyra gave birth nine moons later to a son. A son who she named Daemon Baratheon Targaryen. Daemon was all his mother but the eyes. He held Rhaegar Targaryen's eyes. A year after him came Orys Baratheon, now that one was a Baratheon through and through. There was no ounce of Rhaenyra on him. Prince Aemon came two years later along with Aemond who were the spitting image of his mother. Robert used to laugh when he spoke to Rhaenyra about their sons as the boys all resemble her but not him aside from Orys.

Robert loved Jaehaerys as his own son, he had taken him and Viserys as his wards. He began to teach them how to fight. When the princess decided to visit Dragonstone a tragedy struck her. She had miscarried. The Maester had told her she had been poisoned. To bury her child, she had pyre made for the cremation and her dragon eggs were set inside alongside the babe. Her child had died but she left her mother with the greatest gift she could ask for. Dragons. Three of them. The eldest she called Balerion as the dragon was the spitting image of the black dread. The other she named Caraxes as the dragon was the same color and it seemed he too would look like the first blood wyrm. The third she named Syrax as he had been just like queen Rhaenyra's dragon. When she returned she returned with three dragons on her shoulder. House Targaryen would prevail.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Patience is the Virtue of a Lady

Summary: As Daemon's wife, you are left humiliated by your errant husband. As the product of an annulled marriage, you are seen as barren and tainted, left to befriend Queen Alicent, gaining the reputation of an unsalvageable woman over the years.

But, the heart wants what it wants, and you have had your eyes on unattainable Ser Criston for years.

Notes: anon’s mind is imploding with the amount of genius in it. thank you for requesting, i was on my knees for this idea

Warnings: smut, religious undertones, afab!reader, daemon is an ass, criston is an ass, reader is genuinely not having a great time (at first ahaha), religious/vow-related guilt, slight size kink?

Taglist: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @a-beaverhausen @ilikeitbetterangsty @levithestripper (adding you tentatively, jack, hmu to be added to any!)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN! (and i'm back to writing!!)

Daemon never cared to hide his straying looks, and you knew of his habits. Whoring, drinking, murdering – and yet, you were lucky for having married a Targaryen Prince. You kept your mouth shut, knowing that you would, otherwise, end like your predecessor, Rhea Royce.

Why Viserys had insisted Daemon marry against his will again, you’d never understand.

You kept your mouth shut, through whores, paramours and treason. You played your part, as everyone did in the court. And when your eyes strayed, they did so secretly and carefully. You chose to stare at someone you could not attain anyway.

A kingsguard was your safest bet at something that would never happen anyway. You seethed against the humiliation of your husband and sought your own distraction. Even when Daemon stared hungrily at Rhaenyra, a girl, you said naught.

Targaryen tradition – you did not know if you could argue with that. But Rhaenyra was barely fifteen. She was beautiful, yes, but even now, the fact that your husband would prefer a girl over you stung.

In the early days of your marriage, you had gone to the sept every day, beseeching the Mother to give you a child, even if your husband refused to touch you beyond a drunken wedding night, in which he had failed to even come close to producing a child. Now, you were glad for your childless state, even if the court whispered that you were barren.

So when Daemon left your shared chambers, which were an order of the king, you bade him goodnight and turned back to your reading. Still, you stared from your balcony out at the small spot outside the Red Keep he always appeared in after a while.

A secret entrance only Daemon knew how to use. You held your breath when a small figure appeared first, silver hair glinting in the moonlight.

Rhaenyra.

A few moments later, Daemon appeared, and they disappeared into the city.

The rumors in the days to come were enough for you to draw your own conclusions, but to your surprise, Ser Criston was soon included in them, which stung more than anything. You’d deemed him safe to keep as your own in secret, and yet, Rhaenyra had not only taken your husband from you, but also him.

It hurt more than the annulment of your marriage that Daemon brought forth. You only nodded through the process, letting the Septon say what he wanted, and Daemon tell as many lies as he needed.

And so, your name was yours again and all you were in court was the former wife of Prince Daemon. Your family seethed, ready to remove you from court until Queen Alicent asked you to become her lady-in-waiting, and you were once again stuck in a court of lies.

Ser Criston grew bitter over Rhaenyra, but instead of becoming your friend, he began to worship Queen Alicent. It wasn’t lust, it wasn’t love, but something queer in between.

In his own twisted way, he once again wanted anyone but you, and it stung when it shouldn’t have. Weren’t you supposed to be past this?

And yet, you tortured yourself, watching as he raised Alicent’s children as his own and continued to barely spare you a glance. The court grew disinterested in you, and you continued to lead a life as quiet as before, turning into a lonely spinster with the years.

Only now, you turned to the Father in the Sept, begging for purpose. For anything to happen in your life that might make it worth something.

And then, Lady Laena died. Beautiful, magical, mysterious Lady Laena, who you’d never known and yet loved for ridding you of your husband was dead.

You attended the funeral, even prayed for her, hoping that she would find peace – a thing you thought highly unlikely for a wife of Daemon. You watched as Daemon once again practically drooled over Rhaenyra, and watched as she did the same. Alicent saw it, too.

“It appears as if some things do not change.” Alicent commented dryly. It was treason, what she said, but her nerves had been frayed for the past few weeks, and she knew you would not speak ill of her to the king. You wouldn’t have made a difference to frail King Viserys anyway.

“No, my queen.” You sighed. “But it is not me he is humiliating this time.”

“That did not make you deserve it.” Alicent replied, ever gracious. She slipped her arm into yours, as if you were still the young, disappointed women you had once been and led you away from the balcony. Ser Criston followed dutifully, and for some reason, it felt as if his eyes were burning into your back.

Rhaenyra and Daemon disappeared together, and everyone in their presence trained their eyes to the ground, pretending not to see. Your hand curled into a fist instinctually, feeling old anger and disappointment bubble back up in you.

Perhaps, if you had been bolder, you could have reigned Daemon in. You could have been queen consort, and saved Alicent all her pain. They were silly thoughts, and yet, they made you leave the room, and make for your chambers.

You almost screamed when you saw a dark figure sitting in them, back turned to you, until you recognized dark curls and white armour.

“I almost thought Daemon had finally sent someone after me.” You mumbled, half to yourself. Criston turned, looking right through you.

“Ser Criston?” You asked carefully. He’d grown older, as all of you had, but his beauty remained to him. Criston stayed silent, still staring.

“Criston?” You tried again, calling him by his first name this time, and slowly, he seemed to see you standing across from him.

“She could have had me, and freedom. She chose this prison, you know?” Criston told you. For a moment, your felt confused, before you realised that he was speaking of Rhaenyra, still heartbroken. Of course.

“What are you doing in my chambers, ser?” You asked. Ser Criston laughed dryly.

“You never deserved what he did to you. Prince Daemon dishonored you.” Ser Criston continued, not answering your question. “A lady so beautiful any a man would have been grateful to have you as their wife, and yet, he threw you away for nothing at all.”

Nothing. He had called beautiful Laena, wild Rhaenyra nothing at all. What treason, and how your heart loved to hear it.

You swallowed down your bitterness, ignoring the fluttering feeling in your stomach as Ser Criston called you beautiful. Yet, you kept your guard up. This place was only an extension of King’s Landing, reeking of corruption just as much. For a moment, you considered whether, mayhaps, this was some kind of ploy.

Ser Criston stood so suddenly you took a step back instinctively. He passed you, and you thought that he was going to leave, tired of your company. Instead, he closed the door in front of him. The lock clicked into place, a cacophony of sound in the silence that hung over the room. You held your breath, praying to the gods that nothing would happen to you.

He began to close the distance between you, and you began to back up, until your knees hit the bed, and you fell backwards. Criston was still walking, still closing in on you like prey, and you felt yourself scramble backwards. The headboard stopped your attempt to flee, forcing you to look at Ser Criston.

He stood at the end of the bed, his hand on his sword. Could you make a run for it? Where was there to run?

His swordbelt unravelled, and the weapon hit the ground with a quiet thud. Criston only waited, staring at you expectantly. What did he want?

Slowly, you felt yourself freeze out of place, dragging yourself across the bed towards the end of it, where he stood solemnly. Carefully, you reached up, putting a hand on his shoulder. You heard him inhale shakily.

“Ser Criston, are you alright?” You asked. A pause, then, a shaky breath and a shrug that turned into a shake of his head. “Ser?”

“I’m sorry.” Criston said finally. Carefully, his hand took yours. You stared down, looking at the dark grey glove that covered his hand, starkly contrasting the white of the rest of his uniform. The leather felt soft against your hand, and it was that you tried to focus on, not the fact that you were holding the man’s hand in yours.

“What for?” You asked, smiling up at him nervously. You hated the position you were in, the vulnerability of it. Your neck was craned to look up at him, and you were practically kneeling on the bed. If anyone found you like this, they would accuse you of unthinkable things… Alicent would never forgive you.

“For not defending you. For what I am to do.” Criston said. “Both tarnish my knighthood, my white cloak… tarnishing you.”

You opened your mouth to speak. “What you are about to…”

As Ser Criston pulled off his gloves, cupping your face with his left hand, you trailed off. You could hear your heart beating in your chest. You wanted to pinch yourself. Surely, you were dreaming. This was not real.

Yet, even if it was, you did not care to move away from him. Instead, his lips found yours, soft and gentle in their own way. You felt yourself reciprocate, though you knew that you should not. You should not be doing this, betraying Alicent in this way and yet…

He sighed into the kiss, and the thought disappeared in the fuzz of your mind. You were unable to think, almost unable to breathe. Gods, how long you had waited for this moment. Weeks, months, years.

“Do not give in.” Criston begged. You paused, breaking the kiss to look at him, but no words left your mouth. He repeated his own once, before something shifted in his eyes. This time, he kissed you less softly, and more so like in the bawdy tales your sister had told you. And you found yourself reeling, your hands against his chestplate to steady yourself.

Even as his hands slip under your dress and travel up your thighs, he begged. “Please, stop me.” He whispered. You shook your head in saccharine betrayal and Criston rested his on your shoulder for a moment. His hands left your thighs, leaving the skin hot and burning, and snaked up your neck, cradling your head. They were big, encompassing your skull and somehow, that made your breath hitch.

Hands that were made to kill, and yet, he was holding you so gently, as if you were fragile. A sudden boldness made you speak.

“Do you want me?” you asked. He lifted his head, nodded almost frantically and you made your choice.

Had the distance between you two really been that dramatically large? It felt as if there was no world around you, only your lips on his, his hands touching, holding as your husband should have held you. As you should have held your children.

Oh how you had longed for years, had none of it, and watched as others had been destroyed, by husbands, by children… yet it still felt so deeply unfair that you could not bring yourself to feel guilty for this little thing. Just this once.

You let Criston kiss you, worship you with his hands as he took his time, carefully unlacing your dress, letting the fabric pool around you. Still, you sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. He loomed in his armor, dwarfed you from this perspective.

When you were finally in your shift, you could not help shivering. Criston looked at you with worry in his eyes, before he slipped away, stoking the fire in the furnace. The heat did not match the feeling his hands left on your skin.

He stood before the fireplace, his silhouette illuminated as he took off his armor. The chestplate, the padding, all those parts that shielded him when he did his duties were discarded carelessly on the floor, a stark contrast to his eyes, trained to the ground.

The shadows that flickered through the room, created by candles and fire illuminate the muscles of his back as his dressshirt joined his armor on the ground. You could feel yourself biting your lips to keep yourself from making unladylike sounds.

When Criston returned to the bed, you expected him to push you into the bed, to climb atop you and do what Daemon could not. Instead, he fell to his knees before you at the end of the bed. Confused, you stared down at him.

“What are you doing?” you asked him. He did not answer, his eyes dark as he stared up at you, filled with things you would never tell your septon about. His hands pushed up the seams of your shift until it bunched at your hips.

Suddenly, you felt exposed, and your legs crossed automatically. You sat up straight, as you had been taught, until Criston’s hand returned to your knee, patient, waiting. You understood. Slowly, you uncrossed your legs again.

You still felt exposed as Criston began to place kisses on your knee, even more so when his mouth wandered upwards, towards your thighs. He had kissed your mouth, had barely kissed your neck and now he looked like he wanted to devour your thighs.

Criston took his time sucking marks into the flesh of your thighs, marking it as his, you suddenly realized. And how you loved to be loved.

His mouth moved upwards with a pace that was so slow it almost became painful. You felt a moan escape you, covering your mouth immediately. Criston, looking up again, shook his head. You felt confused – wanton sounds, those were condemned by the church. They could not possibly be what he, such a devout man, would want to hear?

Only, Criston wasn’t that devout after all, was he?

And when his lips touched your cunt in devout prayer, you answered in such currency. Eagerly, his tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, flicking the nub at the top with impatient insistence until you felt your back weaken. You let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress with a girlish ease you had not felt in years, but suddenly it was there, and you were floating…

How had the septons dared to tell you all this was sin? How could that be true? How could it be when-

Criston never ceased his movements when you grew louder, trying to contain your sounds to the confines of your chambers. A knot was beginning to tie itself in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter until you were begging Criston for something – you didn’t know what it was, except that he knew, that he would give it to you.

And then, suddenly, the knot was gone, and something else took its place. You weren’t sure if this was something you had ever felt before because it was all-consuming, washing over you like a golden wave and pulling you under. The tension, the pressure, all of it was gone, replaced by white-hot pleasure and your eyes rolled backwards, your back arching off the bed towards Criston.

Coming down from you high, you felt Criston slowly removing your shift, continuing his worship on your stomach and your chest, sucking and biting skin until he felt you squirm beneath him. It was then that he looked at you, smirking, but you could see that his eyes were full of something no one had ever looked at you with.

Not desire, nor lust, for you had seen those in men who eyed you greedily during banquets. It was not the empty, sad stare King Viserys gave Alicent. No, it was the glances Ser Harwin had thrown at Rhaenyra before her death. The look of adoration Queen Aemma had held for King Viserys all those years ago…

You had no need to say the word, for you knew, and it made your head spin. Could it be?

His hands pulled your shift over your head, until you were bare for him. He was still wearing breeches, but you could see the strain beneath them. Filled with sudden confidence, you pulled him towards you, kissing Ser Criston and wrapping your legs around his waist in a desperation to have him close to you.

Your hands fumbled at the laces of his breeches clumsily, until he gently removed them, doing the work himself. You could see Criston’s cock, half-concealed by the shadows between you and the dark, and yet, you knew it was bigger than Daemon’s. The thought of it made you afraid and your face heat up at the same time.

His hand moved languidly while he leaned down to kiss you. When his hips bucked into his hand, you heard yourself beg him for it, and that seemed to change something in him. Suddenly, Criston seemed hungry.

You could feel him between your legs, and then, you weren’t all that confident anymore. But Ser Criston held you close, whispering reassurances and praise until you could feel him enter you. There was a small stretch, a small feeling of discomfort, and Ser Criston halted his movements for a bit.

When you nodded, he began to move, his body rocking into you. He seemed to know what he was doing when he rolled his hips, stimulating that spot inside of you you had no idea existed in the first place.

The first time he hit it, you felt the air knocked out of you from pleasure. And then, the feeling became a rapid addiction. Your hands dragged his chest to yours, your legs wrapping around his waist again in an attempt to urge him to move faster, harder, to make you feel good.

Ser Criston, the perfect white knight, obliged. He snapped his hips against yours, angling them upwards and giving you something that you had not thought would work that way, feel that way.

“Please, Criston.” You gasped.

“Please what? What do you need, my lady?” Criston replied, his words coming in short intervals. He was just as gone as you, you realized, and that only added to your own high.

“Oh Gods,” you began. “Criston, I don’t know, I- please, please,…”

He rested his head in the crook of your neck again, but this time, his teeth found your shoulder, biting down gently at first. The pain was good. It added an edge you had no idea you needed, brought you back down into a realm where you could form some coherent thought.

The knot you had felt before, the tension that had turned into a coil in your stomach returned with a sudden fervency. This time, the feeling was there more quickly, more intense and it was almost too much. At the same time, you felt as if you would die if it stopped.

Criston seemed to feel it, and only later would you realise that your cunt was clenching around him so tightly that he was having difficulty not to moan as loudly as you. But Criston continued, and he pushed you over the edge, leaving you reeling in pleasure as his hand clapped over your mouth to muffle a scream.

He followed soon after, only that he refused to spend his seed inside you, instead painting your stomach with it. You know why he did it, and yet, it somehow still hurt. Before you could ponder too much on the matter, Criston disappeared, returning with his breeches on and a rag in hand. He cleaned you while you lied on the bed, the soreness beginning to sneak in after your high.

Afterwards, Criston lied down next to you. He did not speak, but he did not pray either, and for that, you were glad. And still, he was the one who pulled you closer. You held onto him, basked in his warmth.

Finally, your patience and virtue had been rewarded. You did not waste a single thought on what would come in the future, only that this was right, and no septon nor Alicent would be able to convince you otherwise (not that you would tell them about this to begin with).

You could feel yourself dozing off in your white knight’s arms, until the alarm bells of High Tide suddenly began to rang. As the castle came alive under the signal, Criston shot up, and so did you. Shouts passed your door, and he scrambled to put on his armor.

Never a moment’s peace in this world.

[vermithorn]

VERMITHORN’S 1K MILESTONE EVENT

CRISTON COLE + OVERSTIMULATION.

cw: nsfw, overstimulation (m!receiving).

note: first time writing for my man, i hope i get the chance to do it again <3 thank you for sending this! i want him fr. please participate on my event!

“Can you give me another?” You say sweetly, wiping the sweat of his forehead with the back of your hand. He looks up at you, breathing hard and his body twitching.

He thinks about it, his brown wide eyes on yours. He doesn’t want to, he’s tired and feel he’s gonna pass out in any minute, but he sees your sweet eyes looking down at him, hovering on his lap while he’s laying on the bed, he cannot say no to you.

“Yes, I can give you another.” He mutters, regretting his words instantly. You smile brightly at him, adjusting yourself on his thigh as your hand goes to his spent cock. His seed is all over his stomach, from coming all over himself over and over again.

Criston sighs, and violently shivers when your hand grabs the base of his cock, twitching slightly at your touch. “Show me your tits, I can get hard again.”

You roll your eyes, one hand on his cock and the other moving the strand of your dress down, your tits overflowing out, Criston gasps at the sight, gulping as you start stroking him.

He indeed gets hard again, fighting pleasure and pain, the skin of his cock raw and red. “Fuck, my lady.” He throws his head back into the pillows.

“You’re so good, this is exactly what I want from you, come on yourself again, for me?”

“Yes, my lady.”

[usetheeauthor]

Run With Me

Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen!Virgin!Reader

Gif created by @jameswan

Smut (MDNI +18)

Summary: You are the eldest sister and daughter of the Targaryen family. Your father bypasses you as heir to the throne as the rules of realm proclaim you illegitimate to the line of succession. Because of this you feel ignored and develop a friendship with your knight Ser Criston Cole. One day before your wedding, he confesses his love for you.

A/N: I know people are hating on Criston right now. I hate him, too. But I still have a place for him in my heart because he’s a very nuanced character along with Alicent whom people also have their qualms with. Anyway, I wrote a happier version of the ‘run away with me’ sequence between him and Rhaenyra except it’s the reader of course. I hope ya’ll enjoy because I did.

Word Count: 4.9k+

Warnings: misogyny, feeling of depression and loneliness, attempted suicide, loss of virginity, p in v (unprotected), sub/dom dynamics, blood kink, choking, spit kink, spit as lube, creampie, doggystyle, breeding kink, oral (f receiving), spanking, cum eating, ambiguous happy ending

The bastard child. That was just one of the many names you’ve heard swirling around the streets of the Dragonstone when referring to you. It used to hurt a lot more but now you’ve owned up to the name.

You were not birthed by Aemma Arryn. Instead, you were a child born out of wedlock. Daughter of a whore and King Viserys I. As a young child, your father would visit every other fortnight, providing you with food and clothing while keeping you a secret from the public. Slowly, his visits would be few to none and your mother struggled to stay afloat for the two of you.

At age 17, your mother had passed away from illness. This was the point where you’d truly felt forsakened by the Gods. Your father left you and your mother to crawl through pits of hell, your mother’s gone, and now you were officially alone.

When you learned of the Queen’s death, however, you were saddened. In some way, you’d seen her as a mother to you indirectly. Although, she hated the idea that her husband had a secret love child, she still encouraged her husband to be apart of your life. So when she’d died the same day your mother passed, you were utterly shattered. Completely broken.

King Viserys I Targaryen, claimed you as his daughter not long after Aemma and Baelon’s funeral, as a promise to his wife that he’s stay apart of your life.

Just like that you were supposed to accept this new life. No longer on the streets, forced to wear pretty dresses, and learn the customs of the kingdom. Just like that and you were in the eye of the public sent to be torn to bits by rumors and societal norms that did not apply to you. And just like that…you were made to see the man who’s been in and out of your life for 17 years as your Father.

It’s numbing to say the least. Even after 4 years, at the age of 21, you couldn’t possibly see yourself as part of the family. Everyone knows this, too. Even if you shared blood with the King himself, you’ll never be a real Targaryen in there eyes.

The day that Rhaenyra was announced heir was evidence enough. Your father, although, kind and remorseful for his absence understood the rules of the realm already takes issue with a woman on the throne but an illegitimate child would cause a war of all wars.

Now as woman of the Targaryen line with no position for the throne, your next bet was to be married off to some high lord. Your father had plans to marry you off to Lord Jason Lannister. Little protest could be made, your duty was to marry to this man you hardly knew. A man filled with plenty pride but lacked intelligence.

It was as if no one could hear your pleas for help. No one. Not even your half sister could understand this pain.

You belonged nowhere.

————

It was the day of the royal hunt for Price Aegon’s 2nd nameday. Your father ordered you to spend at least a few moments of your time with Lord Jason much to your chagrin.

“Expect that in our marriage, Lady Targaryen, we bore 6 children. All healthy, strong boys that will become future great men leading within the walls of King’s Landing.”

“Although, that sounds…enticing. I just don’t think I’d like that many children. At least…I’m not sure of it so soon. I am young.”

“You are far above the age of marital age for women. Very well a spinster. Should you really have any standards for which you’d be willing to proceed?”

You seethed, clenching your teeth in order to keep yourself from saying anything rude. “Will you please excuse me, Lord Jason.”

You curtsied then walked briskly away. You were sure that your father had his eyes on you. You didn’t care. You wished to be as far away from this place as you could. Your knight Ser Criston Cole follows closely behind you.

You wanted to be alone. Hiking up your dress, you kicked off your shoes and made a run for it through the woods. Ser Criston following close after you.

Your heart pounded against your chest, your heavy garments weighed down on you, your feet hurt with each contact of the unsteady ground but you ran. You ran as if you were searching for the end of the earth.

Every now and then, you’d look back. He was gaining on you. You grew tired but with the last bit of adrenaline you had you continued forward. You abruptly stopped in your tracks when you realize you’d nearly ran over the edge of a cliff. You looked below you. The ragged large rocks and forestry had never looked so peaceful.

“Princess!” Ser Criston calls from behind you. You turned to face him, tears running down your face. Your inches away from the ledge, the tiny rock under your feet shift and roll off with each move you make.

“Don’t call me that,” You shook your head. “I’m no princess. I’m no Targaryen. I’m the daughter of a whore. I’ve lived most of my years scavenging through streets only a few miles away from where my father rules. Now I walk above those same streets but still…it’s only a few miles away. I will always be reminded of my past. I’m not wanted. Instead of my father willing to understand me, he marries me off to a prideful fool. It isn’t fair. I wish to live no more.”

You attempt to lift your feet up to hang over the ledge. Your white knight makes calls out your name halting you from further movement.

“Understand,” He says in a shaky voice, his hands put out in front of him. Gradually, he inches further up to you. “I know what it is like to come from nothing. To have no one. I’ve lost so much in my life that this life I know now is all I know and all I can remember. I would give anything to remember my life before all this that way I’d appreciate who I am now and know the legacy I carry. Your past is who you are. We cannot erase those parts of ourselves whether wish to or not. You have that privilege to know where you come from and use it to your advantage. You belong here.”

“I don’t. My father only came to find me after all these years because his wife requested it on her deathbed. She showed me more compassion final moments than he’s ever shown me in my entire life.”

“And he regrets this everyday. You don’t need to forgive him. It is your choice what you choose. But he only had the best intentions for you now. Even with marrying you off. You’d have a better life. You’d be comfortable and happy.”

“Happy? I’m not marrying who I want. I’m only a pawn for political power. I understand you come from suffering as well, Criston. But you do not carry these burdens that I do. I’m mocked constantly by my own people. I’m all alone.”

“Your not. If there’s anyone that could understand just a morsel of troubles, it’s your sister. She’s a woman announced as heir to the throne. You understand the kind of torment she’s facing because of this. If you’d talk with her maybe it won’t be so lonely,” He standing right behind you. “But please…don’t take your life. There’s more to look forward to. You’re not done seeing life yet.”

You breathing quickens, heavy. You breakdown crying. Ser Criston wrapping his arms around you and you melt in his touch. One of his hands cradles the back of your head to hold you against his chest. The embrace lasting for about 3 minutes before you part.

“Would you like to go back?” He questions.

“No. Not yet.” With that, you walked back through the woods and he follows you through.

The night arrived and you both set camp somewhere. A fire started in the middle you as your only source of light. You both exchange stories of your lives. Ser Criston not remembering much of his life because of the trauma he’s experienced but the parts he remembered fondly opened him up. His smile was quite dashing. It was enough to make you wish that you could always make him laugh.

He’d only every smiled around Rhaenyra most times. You could tell he was fond of her. She was beautiful so it was not hard to see why. She was also very daring. It was unheard for women to speak up so boldly. It was something you’ve always aspired to be. You always envied that you couldn’t speak up for yourself the way you wanted to. Sometimes you just wanted the chance to do as you please with no consequences.

“Have you ever though about what life beyond here is like?” You asked Ser Criston.

“Yes. I think about it all the time. What it’d be like to live life aside from my vows. It’s tempting dream but it’s just not in my future.” He shrugs.

“In my dreams, there’s a place called Sunfair. It’s beautiful because there…nobody knows who I am so they can’t judge me. I’m only a woman. I can do as I please. It’s peaceful. Every time, I close my eyes and dream, I hope to be there again only the next time I wish it to be real.”

“It sounds like a lovely place. I wouldn’t mind joining that nation.” He jokes.

“I think you’d be more than welcome, Ser Criston. A place like that needs a man like you. You’re kind, understanding. If I ever see it again, I’ll dream you’re there, too.”

The knight smiles. “I’d appreciate it, Princess.”

You smiled back. Comfortable silence falling between you with the only other sound being the crackling of the fire.

When the morning arose, you found Ser Criston had thrown his cloak over you while you rested on the soft moss. The walk back to the camp area was silent. At some point, the two of you spotted the white stag for the hunt. Instead of killing it, you approached it, looking in its eyes before setting it free. Your father immediately chastised you upon arrival but relief washed over him knowing you returned safe.

You took the time to approach you sister for a conversation to settle any tension between you two.

“Rhaenyra, I would like to apologize. I was cold. Distant. I made no effort whatsoever to form a relationship with you. I understand if you do not wish to speak with me. But I do want you to know that I would be honored if you were my queen. Your leadership would be much appreciated in this kingdom and anyone who says otherwise is an idiot.”

Rhaenyra laughs. “Thank you, sister. I should apologize, too. I wasn’t so easy to get along with either.”

“Well, both our mothers did pass away within each other, it was only natural that we’d have a hard time getting along,” You excused. “I would like for us to confide in one another for now on. I think we could really support one another especially during times like these.”

“I-I’d like that, sister.” Rhaenyra says, smilingly brightly.

The rest of the day, the two of you bonded over the struggles you both faced as women and the fight for your own autonomy. It was nice to know that you weren’t exactly alone.

You notice Ser Criston across the camp shooting a small smile. You smile back, silently thanking him for listening to you and for patching your relationship with your sister.

On the Sail back home, You and Ser Criston continued telling stories to each other to amuse you. He told you of the battles he’s been in and, although violent, it was captivating. He was warrior to say the least. Sometimes, you question if he forced himself to forget certain things to protect his own peace of mind.

When you arrived home, your white knight took his place standing in front of your bedroom door. You knew you had to go to bed soon but you wanted to talk just a little more.

“I want to thank you, Ser Criston, you’ve helped me out of my shell these past few days. It’s not been easy to say the least. I still struggle with the idea that I’m to be wed to a man with the arrogance the size of horse but I appreciate being able to make amends with my family. “

“If I could, I’d do all I could to make you happy so that you’d never feel the need hide yourself again.”

“Criston…” You whispered.

His hand rests on your cheek, lightly caressing it with his thumb. He’s looking down at you with so much love that it makes your heart full. His lips lower onto yours and he kisses you. His lips are pressed softly on yours like they’re barely there.

He pulls away, apologizing profusely. “I don’t know what came over me, Princess. Forgive me for my misconduct. I shall find myself punished for—”

You cut him off, placing your lips back onto his. This time adding pressure into the kiss. He places his hands over your arms, pushing you away.

“We shouldn’t.” He whispers.

“I don’t care. I just want you,” Your hands run through his hair. “Let me take care of you. In exchange, you’ll take care of me, too.”

“My vows…”

“Forget them in this moment. Let us go to that place in my dreams. The one where you are just a man and i, a woman.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Is it because you love my sister? I see the way you look at her. If that is who you wish to be with, I will not stop you. But I want you to know that I care for you. I have always cared since the first day we met four years ago and you noticed me in the far corner of the room when everyone else ignored. I just hope we can still be friends.”

“Princess!” He growls his hands, cupping your face. “How could you think I wouldn’t want you? I’m not in love with your sister. I love you. I’ve love you since then, too. I’ve just kept my distance because of moments like these. These moments were I’d want you all to myself.”

“You have me,” You turn the knob to your bedroom door. “Stay with me with night. Make me yours. I don’t want to spend another night without you.”

“Then, you have me as well.” He kisses you once more the two of you, stumbling into your room. He shuts the door behind him and he looks at you, eyes dark with pure lust.

You helped him out of his heavy armor, slowly removing them as a sensual way of teasing him. You found that you were only torturing yourself in the process. You needed him badly.

He helps you out of your dress and corset, kissing down your neck and back with each new part of exposed skin.

You turn to face him again, eager to feel his lips on yours again. Your back pressed up against the wall and his strong hand around your throat. You gasped against his lips at his sudden dominance.

“Take me, Criston. Don’t make me wait.”

Taking you by your neck, he peels you away from the wall, walking you back towards your bed. He show you back and you fall onto your mattress. You sit up on your elbows, watching him remove his pants in anticipation.

The moment he’s released from his confinements, you gasp. Your eyes followed v-line of his abdomen leading to something so beautiful. He’s large and erect. You’ve never seen a penis before but the mere size of him was intimidating. The view from where you sat made him look like a King before you. Tan skin glowing with contrast of the orange flames lit around your room. His chest chiseled to that of a Greek God, the hairs sprouting from his pecs adding to his manly presence.

Pulling your legs so that your ass hung just a little over the edge of the bed, he brings them to your chest, widening you for him. He’s on his knees before you. Your glistening virgin cunt presenting before him. He can practically see your heart beating staring down at.

Ser Criston’s eyes never leave yours. Sticking out his long, thick tongue; he licks a long stripe in between your folds collecting the juices that have accumulated. You mewled at this new sensation. Who would have thought the feeling of a wet tongue between your legs could feel this good?

He gives you a few teasing kitten lick before moving his mouth entirely from your core, sucking and biting your inner thighs instead. He wanted to torture you, is that it?

You couldn’t bare it. You needed him now. If he wished for you to beg him, you wouldn’t hesitate.

“Criston…please. I need you. I need your mouth on me. Please drink me.”

“Does my princess wish to have her first orgasm from a mouth willing to please?”

“Yes, yes. I want it.” You cried, hips rolling.

“Your wish is my command.” He chuckles, finding your desperation amusing. Then, his mouth latches onto your swollen clitoris and you go mad.

You moaning as if the walls were thin and yet neither of you cared. He’s shaking his head side to side, mouth fully dived into your pussy to drink from it’s fountain. He loved the way you even tasted so pure against his tongue.

Needing to know just how tight you are, he sinks a finger into you. You tremble at this new sensation. You’ve fingered yourself before but it’s never touched this level inside you. He laps at your clit while fucking his finger into you and another gush of your juices shoot up.

“Fuck, this cunt’s weeping for me.” He groans.

“All for you, Ser.”

He groans at this. He never thought hearing his title said during sex could sound so good. It made him go feral. Forcing another finger into you, he spreads them inside you in order to stretch you out. You were unbelievably tight and Criston worried that even with his fingers it wasn’t enough to properly prepare you for his large cock.

He’s devouring you and the mixing of his fingers pumping into you, massaging your sweet spot, was enough to have you hyperventilating. You’re eyes rolled into the back of your head. You were going to come and it would be with an intensity you weren’t sure you can handle. Yet, you rock against his fingers to reach for it anyway.

He smiles up at you. “That’s it, princess. Ride them the way you would my cock.”

He spanks your clitoris and your officially through. The brightness of a thousand suns blind your vision and your body stiffens as your orgasm slams through you. Then, you begin to convulse feeling his fingers continue to hit against the pressure so that it builds and builds.Tears flowed from your eyes and you wrapped a hand around his wrists to keep him from pumping anymore or you’d lose consciousness.

Showing mercy, he slows his pace until he finally stops pumping watching the way you writhed and whimpered at the sensation he’s given you. When he felt like all shocks had dissipated, he slowly slid his fingers from your soaking pussy. His fingers slick with your honey, he brings them to his lips for a taste. He brings them to your lips as well smearing it around. You instinctively licked your lips, tasting the ambrosia.

“I need to be inside you.” He says.

You move up on the bed, getting on your hands and knees. You press you face down into the mattress. “Take me this way.”

“But…it’ll be too much for your first time. It’ll hurt.”

“I want this, Criston. I mean it. I want to be fill by you. Every inch.”

He bites his lip to keep himself from letting out a desperate whine. You were going to be the death of him.

Positioning himself behind you, he spits in his hand and strokes himself a few times. He didn’t need to do so. You were already so wet but he figured anything could help you to adjust to him. He’s pressed against your entrance, your folds parting to make way for his intrusion. The pressure is heavy but he makes no attempts to move further. Impatiently, you rock back against him in an attempt to sink down on him. He holds your hips from further movement. You whine.

His hand collides with your plump ass and in the same swift motion, his cock splits you open. You clenched the sheets, gasping at the feeling of being torn apart. He moans above you. He understood that you were in pain but the sensation of your velvety walls swallowing him in was so blissful that all he could do is voice his pleasure.

Ser Criston stills. Only a quarter of his length is inside you. He pulls out, only the tip inside. Then, he plunges in again. This time half of him inside you. You let out a choked cry. He rubs your ass and your back as he continues to feed more of himself into your cunt with each thrust.

He snaps his hips forward, rough against you. This last thrust causing you to scream out. He’s fully inside you. Yanking you by your hair, he tangles a fist around it. With your face risen, he uses his other hand to clamp over your mouth, knowing that once he begins moving you’ll be screaming for bloody mercy.

He snaps his hips into you over and over again until he’s picked up a rough pace. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on that pressure of being filled to the brim over and over again. You sobbed into his hand. He’s growling above you like a mad man. An animal. This was how you were meant to be taken. Raw and pounded in with reckless abandon.

The grip of your hands bunching the sheets beneath you matching his grip around your hair. Your tears running down his fingers yet his grip over your mouth never falters. The clapping sounds of his hips clashing with your ass only made you clench around him harder.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so incredibly tight.” He groans.

He removes his hands from your hair and over your mouth, sending you falling forward against his harsh strokes. He pulls out of you and your disoriented and scared that he’ll leave you with no more of him.

“Please put it back in!” You could cry again.

He flips you onto your back, smirking. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He plunges into you again, a sign of his devotion to please you. You were going to cum on his cock tonight. He was going to make sure of it.

He’s strokes long and deep into you, dark eyes boring into your own. His cock sloshes around in your pooling heat. You lay a hand against his chest curling your fingers into the chest hair, feeling his heart beat.

His lips find your and your tongues fight for dominance. Your body are entangled in a hot and sweaty embrace and you wished you could stay like this forever. He allows himself the moment to remove his eyes from your blissed out face, staring down between your bodies. Your pussy eagerly draws in his cock begging for its presence even when he pulls out. The mix of blood and your creaminess coats his cock and he could feel pride consume him, knowing that he’s the one to take your precious flower. If he could, he’s keep the bloody sheets as a reminder of how well he’s fucked throughly into you.

Then, he witnesses your hands snaking between your body to rub yourself. He goes into a frenzy at this sight, thrusting so fast into you that you can hardly keep up your grinding. You accept his punishing pace, letting him fuck you into the mattress. Your orgasm was fast approaching.

“I’m gonna come.” You chant over and over.

“Me too, princess. Fuck, I can’t wait to feel you clench around my cock.”

“Cum with me. I want you to cum inside me. Make me yours.”

“You mean this?”

“Yes, I want to carry your children,” You cradle your face in your hands, pecking his lips. “Let go for me, love. Fill me with everything you’ve got.”

“Ughh.” He fills you clenched around him like a vice and he comes hard. His white essence painting your walls. He’s gasping and whines with each spurt.

You follow after him, your orgasm hitting harder at the feeling of him filling you. This was exactly you’ve craved from him for so long. You’d desperate wanted to have his children and this moment was an act of you love for him.

When you both came to, you smiled at one another. The wet, sticky mess between you was evidence of your desires for one another. He pulls out of of you slowly. You both groan from the lost. But once he lays beside you and rests you against his chest, you felt no need to mourn the loss of him inside you. You were whole again.

“I marry tomorrow.” You whispered.

“I know.” He sighs.

“I don’t regret any of this. I love you always.”

“I love you.” He says, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I will never be apart from you, even when you’re married. My life and my heart belongs to you.”

You held onto each other for dear life. The inevitable will soon arrive. So all you could do now is stall time and wish for it to freeze entirely that way you could forever be with the one you truly loved.

—————

In the morning, your handmaidens had prepared your wardrobe and hair for the wedding. You were noticeably disheartened but neither of them commented, understanding you didn’t wish to be married of to a Lannister. They pitied you but, nonetheless less, your duties are to be fulfilled.

The guests board the ships for the wedding venue and you felt sick at the thought that you were soon approaching a life of an unloving political arrangement.

Criston approaches you, watching as you looked out into the sea. “Princess.” He greets.

You turned to look at him, giving a small smile before looking out into the ocean once again.

“I must tell you. I won’t be serving here very long. I’ve decided I’ll be resigning my position. I’ve broken my vows and I’m sure if I continue my duties here knowing what I’ve done.”

You look at him, eyes widened. “No. You can’t.”

“I must.”

“If you leave, you’ll kill me dead. I’ll be all alone again. I can’t bare it if you’re not in my life.”

“Then, run with me.” He says, slowly closing in on you. “I know of a place. A place with beautiful green pastures. Oranges and cinnamon in abundance. We could go there. It could be our Sunfair.”

“But my duties—”

“You said you’d like to marry for love. We love each other, do we not? If you don’t wish to marry, we could flee. Rhaenyra will be queen. You won’t miss out on the crown or the throne. Come live with me and we could live happily. They’ll never find us.”

You were panting, this spontaneous decision taking you by surprise. This meant leaving your life behind for good. Your father and sister never to be seen again.

“Family…”

“We could start a family of our own,” He places a hand on your stomach. “We can have as many as you’d like. They’d never have to suffer for long as I’m here. But I do not wish to see them torn apart for the fight of royalty and legitimacy.”

“I want this. And I want you.”

“Then be my wife—Run. With. Me.” He stares you in the eye, pleading for your to say something.

“Yes,” You smiled, tears falling down your face. “I’ll be your wife. I’ll run with you. I’ll be the mother to your children.”

He beams with joy, cupping your face. “Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Take my hand.” He says, holding it out.

You hesitate, looking around before taking it. Reaching the peak of the boat, you step up along with him. People began to scream and yell at the sight, guards making their way to you. You looked at your father one last time a look of horror on his face but then your face lands on Rhaenyra and she’s smiling, nodding her approval.

You focus your eyes on Criston one last time and then you both jump ship. Regardless of whether you’d live or not, you did it. In the end, you’d get to be with him through the end.

Meanwhile, the people screamed for you from above. Below, you and Criston swirled around each other underwater, smiling then leaned for a kiss sealing your love for a lifetime.

[christmascoles]

my white knight

Summary:  Rhaenyra Targaryen never existed. Princess Y/N Targaryen spends her first night with her white knight before marrying her cousin Laenor.

Tags : first time, vaginal sex, nipple play, cock worship, kissing, age difference, breeding, loss of virginity, lot of kisses, he's submissive at first 

She looked excitedly at her reflection in the mirror as her servants removed her earrings. Finally her dream was coming true. Y/N Targaryen was going to marry with her gay cousin, not the man she loved, but they let her choose someone to give her first night to. Thanks to gods.. When the door opened, her servants left immediately. And that person showed up at the door.. The reason for the fire in her heart and between her legs since she was a teenager. Her sweet, white knight..

“Princess..’’ Ser Criston nodded his head.

He didn't look up when he saw that the beautiful young woman in front of him was wearing a nightgown. Her silver hair hung down over her shoulders and looked very beautiful.

"I-I-I thought maybe you might change your mind, Princess. I've known you, I've known you since you were a child and..." He seemed to be worried. There was no doubt that he wanted this, but he felt that he was not enough for all this.

“And? Aren't you attracted to me?" She didn't want to force him into anything. Criston's vow was to serve the princess and the royal family. So his vow was not a problem between them.

"No! I.. I desire you very much." Criston Cole was so embarrassed to say it. The young woman smiled as their eyes locked. She liked the embarrassment of the man in front of her. For years she had agonized over her love and affection for him, but now he was finally here.

"What's the problem then?"

"You will soon marry a lord, Princess. I am son of a steward, an insignificant knight, why are you giving me your virginity? This is absurd!"

He added.

"I don't deserve this."

Her gaze softened. So that was the problem between them. Criston didn't think he was worthy of anything. She approached him and closed the distance between them. He touched his face and lifted it carefully. Criston had closed his eyes.

"I'm here, All for you. My body and soul tremble for you. I need you, Ser.’’ When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw were the eyes of the woman who looked at him with desire. She was trying to comfort him by slowly opening his armor. You could tell he was tense. He always took care of the princess, it would be okay if she took care of him a little. "Look at my patheticness, you are trying to make me happy when I should be making you happy. You are helping me."

“Hush.’’ She gave him a kiss on the neck. And another and another. When a moan came out of his mouth, she realized it was a light. He wanted it, he just didn't dare. She led him to the bed, sat him down and sat on his lap.

"I've wanted you since I was a teenager, Ser." she said the sentence passionately."I don't care whether you are the son of a steward or not. I am interested in my knight, a clever, handsome, kind-hearted and brave knight who protects me before his life."

Criston smiled.

"Is that really how you see me?" She responded this by kissing his lips. 

"Do you want it?" she asked.

He took her chin lightly and pulled her to him and started kissing her. She returned the kiss, she wanted it more than ever. Suddenly he laid her on the bed and took her under him. Then he placed a sensual kiss on her neck. His kisses traveled to her breasts and he licked the tip of one of them. Her breasts were kind of big. He went on and started sucking. Criston treated the other nipple with the same care. Princess Y/N had no trouble getting used to these feelings for the first time. It was exciting yes. But she didn't know where to touch Criston. He took her hands and brought them to his hair.

"You may touch me in any way you wish, Your Grace."

He added.

"I'll do anything for you."

He kept kissing her all the way to her stomach. He slowly pulled her dress down. She lifted herself slightly and let him pull. Now she was completely naked in front of the man in front of her and she was pressing her legs together out of desire. "Let me see you, Your Grace."Encouraged by him, she slowly spread one leg to the side. A moan escaped his mouth and he placed a few kisses on her thighs. "May I?" She nodded. Slowly he moved his lips there and began to lick her clit. She sat up with a moan.

"Wh-what are you doing?" It was a very strange feeling for her. She moaned to loud. Y/N tried to pull him away from her by his hair.

"It's to relax you, my princess." He licked his lips and swallowed. "Does it feel good?"

“Yeah..’’

"Then relax and let go, Princess."

Y/N trusted him even more than herself. Ser Criston took her one leg and put it on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and enjoyed him eating her. She was feeling so good. Her heartbeat was getting faster and faster, and as it continued, she felt that she was getting closer to the end. She came so fast, squirmed, trembled and moaned.

"Your Grace... that was very loud," Criston said.

"Wh-what? Was I too loud?"

"A little," he said and laughed. Criston's lips turned pink. She got up on her knees and went close to him and fell on his lips. She began to taste herself from his lips. It was sweet. As their kiss deepened, she slipped her hand into his pants. He moaned into her mouth.

"Gods! You've been hiding this in your armor all this time." He laughed at what she said.

"My princess,"

"I want to look." she insisted.

He pulled down his pants. His hard, brown, thick cock against his belly made her dizzy. It frightened her at the same time, was this thing going to be inside her soon? She bit her lip.

"Your Grace is free to touch," he said while smiling. But it was true that under that smile was hidden a desire.

His smile was adorable. He was a very handsome man. "Okay, let's give it a try." she said. She grabbed his cock and slid his skin up. He moaned and leaned his head back.

"Your Grace is very talented."

She bent down and licked his cock. Criston began to take deep breaths.

"You okay?"

“Yes.’’ and he said again, "Yes.’’

She licked his cock for a while and took it in her mouth, trying not to touch her teeth. It was huge and left her panting. When she stopped, there was a lot of spit on his cock. "It's hard not to come." Criston said, whimpering. "Save it for later, Ser." Criston immediately took his place on top of her and spread her legs wide. She closed her eyes tightly as he started to slowly insert his cock inside her. She moaned and squeezed the pillow. After a while of going back and forth, he found a rhythm and started to push himself into her, standing on one hand. He was kissing her neck. She didn't even know how he was completely inside of herself. “Ah!’’ The sound of two bodies hitting each other echoed through the room. She loved it. Scented candles accompanied them as her White Knight took her virginity."Do you like it, Princess?" "I still don't know how it all fits," Y/N moaned. "I knew it would fit." He answered. "My sweet little princess." She cried out in lust. Criston sped up."Fucking the royal cunt makes me feel like I'm in heaven."

"Your little cunt was made for me, only me." She was enjoying it so much that she started crying. “You think your husband can fuck you like that?" Criston had it all the way in. "Never." She shuddered and came on Criston's cock with screams. Criston seemed so aroused by her squeezing him. His breathing quickened. "Your Grace, I don't think I can take much more." Y/N said, "Cum inside me." He frowned. He was still going in and out.

"I can't." he said. 

"You will, I want you to."

"But it could get you pregnant. Your lord husband.."

"My lord husband won't give a damn. I want your child, Criston."

His breathing quickened and he moaned, releasing her entire load. Taking deep breaths, he let himself fall onto the bed next to her. They were both exhausted. Ser Criston turned to her.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, Criston..

[sublimitymp3]

for yandere aemond, aegon, daemon and criston, maybe how do they deal with their love having a lover they are not willing to give up even after marriage? Thank you very much for time you are amazing👀❤

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Aemond fell in love with you instantly when you two met. He never particularly liked the idea of being wedded to someone he did not know, but once he saw your sweet face, his worries drifted away. However, he had noticed your reluctance and apprehension to be around him. He thought nothing of it, chalking it up to you having the same opinions of arranged marriages as he once did. Aemond was sure that by the time you two were wed, you'd warm up to him

He was extremely wrong.

You were never cruel or particularly cold to him, you just never gave him any affection or attention as he would. You would dodge his kisses, wipe the ones he did leave on your cheek off, and you treated him more like an acquaintance rather than a husband. He had noticed you would receive letters from time to time, keeping them close to you and being overtly protective of them, and how flustered you'd look after reading them. This only served to make him even more curious about their apparent special contents. One night, Aemond would find the little box where you had stashed the letters. Curiosity got the better of him, and he began reading the various pieces of parchment. A silent rage began to fill him as he discovered they were love letters, exchanged with someone from the Riverlands, your birthplace. He would burn each letter that night, hatching plans to separate you from this secret lover. He'd intercept each and every letter your lover would send to you, reading them with annoyance before burning them in the fireplace. He could see the emotional toll it was taking on you. Your lover had abruptly ceased their communications with you, with no explanation. You wondered if they had grown tired of you, or if they were incapacitated. You were growing sad, and Aemond was always there, though you tried your best to brush him off in hopes another letter would come for you. Eventually, when three months had passed and no new letter was sent, you'd come crying to Aemond, and he'd welcome you with open arms.

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Aegon adored you. You were everything he was not, dutiful, kind, and cheerful. He admired you, and he genuinely felt so much love for you, despite you not knowing each other for long. While you were always friendly towards your new husband, you never were quite affectionate with him. He would try to win you over, stealing kisses from you and spoiling you with lavish gifts. He tried for months it seems to charm you, but to no avail. It was clear you had no romantic interest in Aegon, and he found himself slipping into old habits.

It was a brisk night, the cold breeze causing most people to wear heavy cloaks made of wool. Aegon was drunk in some alehouse, drowning his sorrows in his cups. In his peripheral vision, he could've sworn he saw you, huddled in the corner with a large cloak draped over you, and with some man. But he brushed it off as his drunken mind playing tricks on him. He focused back on his cups, but he couldn't shake how similar that woman looked to you. He fully turned around, squinting his eyes in an attempt to clear his blurry vision. Once his eyes were focused and clear, he saw that it was indeed you, with another man. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw you sharing kisses and loving touches with this stranger. It finally started to make sense to him why you insisted on keeping your relationship with Aegon strictly platonic.

Aegon would go classic Yandere at this point. He'd confine you to your chambers so you wouldn't be able to meet this man anymore. He would probably have his more...sketchy acquaintances deal with the man, eliminating him completely. You would cry and plead with Aegon to just let you go, to allow you to continue to see your lover, but your attempts to sway him were futile. He'd kiss you, whether you liked it or not, and he'd breed you until he was certain you were pregnant, simply another way to keep you anchored to him. Aegon was never much of a patient man, but he'd gladly wait until you accepted him as your one and only love.

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Daemon was no stranger to marriage, having been wedded twice already, to Lady Rhea Royce and Lady Laena Velaryon. He was quite sad over the manner in which his second wife had died, and he had truly loved her. Though, he didn't show his sadness, preferring to keep up his appearance of indifference. But then, he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you at her funeral. You were the daughter of a wealthy merchant who resided at Spicetown, and he was quickly smitten with you.

You were wedded to Daemon not long after, as your father was ecstatic when Daemon asked for your hand. Your father had considered it a great honor and blessing that a Targaryen prince had asked to wed you, and he didn't care to take your feelings into consideration when he accepted the offer. Daemon had observed you were rather closed off and reluctant toward him, but figured your apprehension was either due to how your father wedded you off like it was nothing, or maybe even his reputation as the "rogue prince." When you came to Daemon one day asking to visit Spicetown so you may see your father, he agreed. He wasn't going to keep you from the only family you had, and he somewhat enjoyed the seaside town and its simplicity. Once there, your behavior changed. You were acting a bit shifty, and you weren't even spending much time with your father, instead staying out and about, always disappearing off. Daemon decided to follow you one day, not caring if you discovered him and got angry at him for doing so. he watched you go to a pier, and talk with some fisherman. Maybe he was an old friend or a friend of your father's? But jealousy began to hinder his judgment, and even more so when he saw you kissing the man.

Daemon clearly thinks little of the consequences of his actions, and so he'd stride over, cutting the man down with Dark Sister. He'd drag you roughly by your wrist back to your father and have you say goodbye. Once back home, do not think your actions would go unpunished. Like Aegon, he'd lock you in your chambers, slowly taking away freedoms and making you dependent on him. He didn't care if you hated him, in time he'd make you understand his actions.

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Ser Criston had quickly taken notice of you, a new serving girl. You were always timid around him whenever he tried to make idle conversation, something he found adorable. As the queen's sworn shield there were not many times he could speak to you, but at night when he was posted outside her door, you would walk by, holding various cleaning supplies. Then he would stop you to make friendly conversation. Slowly but surely, he was falling in love with you.

One night, Ser Criston would stop you once more. You had assumed he would make more conversation with you, but you were surprised when he dragged you off. He would sneak you both out of the Red Keep and into the city, finding some drunken Septon and forcing him to wed you two. You were so in shock, that you barely protested, and you were now his wife.

Ser Criston was so fond of you, and how timid you continued to be around him. He had forsaken his vows just to be with you, and he would not so subtly remind you of this, in some way to guilt you into keeping quiet about your marriage. And you did feel guilty for having a lover when Ser Criston had risked his integrity and honor to be with you, but you didn't ask to wed him, and that was his own doing and of no fault of yours. One day, while Ser Criston was making his way to his own quarters for rest, he saw you stealing kisses with some lowly stable boy. After all he had risked to be with you, this is how you repaid him? No, Ser Criston wouldn't stand for it.

The next night, when you were approaching the hall where the queen's chambers resided, and where your dear husband was stationed, you noticed how...angry he looked. You would slow your footsteps down, dreading approaching him, but it was inevitable. He would roughly grab you when you finally were near, making you drop your cleaning supplies to the ground. He'd hold your face tightly with one hand, threatening your position as a serving girl, your only source of income. He would make you swear that you'd never see the stable boy again, lest something terrible should happen to him. All you could do was helplessly nod your head in agreement, and hope Ser Criston would spare you both.

[visd3stele]

If you still write for Criston can you write an imagine based on ep 4 but its Rhaenyra younger sister he is attracted to??

still write? i'm just getting started ;)

i hope you like it!

masterlist ; requests

a/n: so, usualy i don't include smut in requests if it's not specifically asked for, the more i do is hint to it lightly. but since it's a request about that episode, the one so focused on the meaning and discoveries of sexual life, and it is the got universe, i thought it's safe to assume you're ok with it. if not, beware the warnings below and let me know through another ask.

tw: kind of spoilerish (better read after you watched the episode), virgin!reader, virginity loss, smut, piv, innocent!bold!reader,a dime of jealousy, talks of forced marriage, old typical mysonigistic rhetoric about the female body, behavior and a woman's sexual activities let me know if i missed anything

Sleepless nights

A gust of wind blew from behind, whipping loose strands of hair against the flurry breathing in your face. H/c locks flew around your head in a messy crown. Though your vision was blurred - with piercing tears and whips of hair - you felt no fear. Up in the sky, between the clouds floating above King's Landing, you were more at home than you ever were inside the confinement of the royal palace. Here, with just your dragon to keep you company, your body eased the tension gathered over the day. A wild laugh boomed where no one but your ears could hear. So unlady-like, your tutors would say, just like the grin spread on your face.

You found it easier to leap into the princess act expected from you when on the ground. But on the back of your dragon, a mighty creature you, alone, tamed, the well of bottled up feelings broke its walls. You felt powerfully and powerful.

"Don't you love this, Attor? Freedom," you closed your eyes to feel the moonlight, smelling the scent of air before rain. The dragon whispered its roar of agreement, longing his neck for a pet on the head. You happily obliged.

Poison. It caused reason to gossip when you named your dragon such. What ill intentions could hide behind? But you simply thought it fit him. A dragon with no fire, only the venom that should lit it. A silent dragon whose roars aren't heard and who is sneakier than even some spies you've met.

"Yes, I can't get enough of this."

"Y/n!" You couldn't stop the sigh escaping your lungs. You love your bigger sister more than the lengths all the dragons in the realm could take you. But you didn't want to go back just yet.

"Now? Really? Can't I stay a bit more? Please."

The night was young. Barely a few hours passed evening. Rhaenyra usually came to take you home only shortly before dawn. When you would complain about wanting to see the sunrise like you used to do together as children. She'd put out a small opposition, just for show as she wanted to do it too. Then you'd return together to the castle, tiptoeing your way to bed.

This time, however, Rhaenyra seemed to be on a rush.

"No, y/n, come on."

"But why?" You whined.

"I have something to do tonight and I'd rather know you out of trouble."

"What troubles can I possibly run into in the sky?"

"You'll find a way. Come."

"Fine, but only if you tell me what's so important that you have to take away my last few days of enjoyment until I shall be wed."

Rhaenyra's face fell. Your father has been trying to find you both a proper suitor. He agreed to let you choose your husbands if you do so in the time he desires. You and Rhaenyra have been travelling around the seven kingdoms for that exactly purpose, but none of the men either of you saw raised your interest. Now, you were waiting anxiously for your father's picks.

"Don't be like that. Father might come around. He haven't eyed anyone for either of us."

"Yet. But don't try to evade me! What are the mysterious plans of tonight, Rhaeny?"

"I- I'm not sure, actually. Daemon wants me to accompany him. In the guise of a boy. It's like an adventure!"

Another too big smile for a proper princess spread your lips. Rhaenyra's happiness made you happy as well. She rarely took time for herself. To feel, to explore - her own personhood if anything else was off limits. Unlike you, who had your nightly rides above storms or through peaceful stars.

"Swear to me you'll tell everything tomorrow."

"Thank you, y/n!" Rhaenyra flew her dragon closer, enough so that the both of you could hug. "I will tell you all of it in the morning," she beamed. And you descended.

You and Rhaenyra were making your way to the palace after you took care of the dragons for the night. She had to meet Daemon and change and you... well, you didn't know what you'll do, if you were to be honest.

"Princess..es." A soft smile made its way to your lips, heating you cheeks before you could even comprehend the stumble of words. Your body reacted on its own accord to the low, sweet voice. Ser Criston Cole was on patrol duty, it seemed. Or at least for the first half of the night, when another guards would replace him and his fellow.

You never missed it, the change of guards. Whether you were spending the first hours of moonlight watching Ser Cole laugh with his companions, stretch or jump and do push ups to keep sleep away until eventually his features loosened, his smile but a fading ghost lost in a yawn and he stumbled over his words to say goodnight on his way to bed, or you were swirling around the palace roof on the nights he'd take the second shift to see him run energically to the other guards, patting them on the back and cracking some jokes you never heard, you took the habit to sight the handsome knight as often as you made it possible.

Rhaenyra smiled back at him, wishing him an easy night as she moved past. She was the one he noticed first. The first to call after. You were a mere second thought, you mused sadly.

"Good night, princess y/n," he said politely as you walked past him. But he spared you no glance. Your smiled was tight when you lightly bowed your head to him in recognition and moved on.

How come him and Rhaenyra were friends, but he acted around you so... proper? Back straight, eyes fixed in front of him as if he were a statue only coming to life to serve and protect when ordered or needed, arms folded behind and chest flaunted proudly, representing the royal family. Why couldn't he be himself with you too? Like he was with Rhaenyra: laid back, easy going, speaking his mind freely, even allowing himself to be her confidant. And he would share with her too, like friends do.

Ever since the tournament, your heart skipped a beat every time you saw him. With time, your breath caught in your chest even when you heard his voice, or long, joy filled laugh echoing in the halls. You couldn't help the jealousy rising in your bile every time Ser Cole and Rheanyra were together. They get so close in such short notice! Meanwhile you and him were still on title before names basics.

"How did you do that?" You asked out of breath as you ran to catch up with her.

"Do what?" Under any other circumstances you would have thought she's teasing you. But tonight Rhaenyra was distracted.

"Forget it. It's nothing important. Where are you to meet with uncle?"

The older Targaryen princess, as big sisters often seem to, fell pray to the need to offer comfort to - and brighten the mood of - her little sister. Even not knowing what issued such ache in your weak tone.

"Would you like to come with us?" She said, instead of answering your question.

From where they have fallen in self pity, jealousy and despair, your eyes surged forward to meet Rhaenyra's in excited surprise.

"It's only fair," she shrugged in answer to your silent question of approval. "I ruined your night, so you might as well pay me back."

"I won't ruin anything!" You protested, seemingly offended. But a large laugh bubbled in your chest, hard to contain.

Your excitement was chipped, but not bend, when Daemon faltered for mere seconds before reluctantly agreeing to take you with them. Rhaenyra and your uncle were walking fast in front of you, never once unlocking their hands. You struggled to keep up. Perhaps they were trying to lose you? That wouldn't make any sense, you argued to your own mind. They wouldn't leave you alone in the city at night. And what for would they even be tempted to do so?

All thoughts emptied your brain as you came to a sudden halt in Daemon's heels. He led you and your sister to a brothel! Rhaenyra's pupils dilated in the night. Curiosity, raw thrill and pure joy buzzed through her body. You could feel it even a few steps behind. To be in such a place, dressed as a boy, should have been a matter of fantasies. But here you were.

"You don't have to go in if you don't want to," your uncle said, turning to face you quickly before turning his attention back on your much more eager sister. "I can call for a guard to keep you company in a tavern nearby. One I know will never speak of it."

You bit at the inside of your cheeks with your canine. Though a virgin and a princess, you were aware of the activities that went down in a pleasure house and what they entailed. Sort of. You used to eavesdrop conversations between guards as a child. Sneak and steal some of the forbidden books your tutors warned you about being unproper for your delicate, feminine eyes. You read them in the sky, feet dangling from Attor's back as he floated easy too high up to be seen.

But standing in front of the brothel's door right now, close enough to smell the too sweet odor of mixed perfumes and scented candles you felt your heart constrict painfully in your chest. The slapping sounds of skin on skin contact, the loud groans and breathy moans chilled your blood and sweat that begin to form on your skin.

Unexplainable fear overtook your senses. You couldn't do it! Of course, a part of you wanted to. March inside, pick a handsome man and get it over with. Pop the flower everyone told you to nurture and save for your husband. But the feeling that this wasn't how it's supposed to be wouldn't evade you. No matter how much you'd try to convince yourself that you can't possibly know that, your mind wouldn't let go of the maddeningly aphrodisiac love making reaped from promising pages.

"Yes, please."

Daemon looked relieved. He ordered both of you to stay still, hidden in the shadows nearby, and rushed to get the up mentioned guard.

"Are you feeling... well?"

"Yes, Rhaeny, don't worry for me. Worry for yourself. You seem like you could become addicted to this place and you haven't even entered."

"It feels freeing."

"I know."

"Then why won't you come in? I'm quite scared too of the unknown of it. But it's not a panic worthy fear. Like when father married Alicent -" you both winced -" it's more of a thrill. I want this. Whatever this is, wherever the night will lead me to do."

"You're excited."

"Aren't you? We're actually in the town. On our own. Without thousands of eyes judging our every move. People didn't even recognized us!"

You smiled at your sister's happiness. Once again, it was enough for your own to surge as well. You shook your head. "Have fun, Rhaenyra. But don't do anything stupid. I'll get drunk waiting for you. I've never been drunk before."

You both burst in incontrollable giggles. That's how birds must feel when they fly around the world, freed of any cage, following only their instincts, you thought. And their bellies, the growl of your stomach added. It made you laugh even harder.

That's how Daemon found you. Teary eyed, voice hoarse from laughing, bodies trembling with shakes of hiccups, remains of wild, sister with madness, joy.

"I see, my prince. This is how you got them to agree with such an idea. You got them drunk."

If you were, indeed, intoxicated, his voice was enough to sober you up. Ser Cole, in all his tall, polished glory, smirked next to a confused Daemon. It wasn't a mean smirk, nor a teasing one you saw on you dearest knight's lips. His eyes, so dark as the deepest nights, seemed even bigger now. You realized his pupils grew in size, flooding the warm black of his irises with something more feral.

The same look was in your uncle's eyes, fixed on Rhaenyra. But where Criston was wearing himself like a calculated predator, a dragon if not of blood, then of demeanor, Daemon had a goofy, adoring smile in the corner of his lips.

"I haven't done anything, Ser Cole. They are here on they own, sober, accord."

Not wasting anymore time, your uncle grabbed your sister by the hand again and stormed inside the pleasure house. Alone with Criston, your care free spirit from earlier grew heavier. You noticed the look in his eyes, which you concluded to be lust, but you thought he sighted your sister. And the thought weight more than it should have.

"I was told to stick at your side, princess, in your nightly adventure. And to never speak of what shall happen. Please, don't pay me any mind and do as your heart desires."

You turned on you heels with not a single word uttered to your guard. What could you have said? You are what my heart desires, but you act so distant and cold I'm afraid that will never be? You wouldn't dare. So you choose the safer option: silence. And because of that you missed how his shoulders, held high and proud, slogged at your behavior. How he closed his eyes and bite back a sigh, bowling and relaxing his fingers at his sides.

You reached a small house that smelled like piss and shoved your way inside. Cheap bear stinking like dragon food crumbs splashed from knocked together in cheers cups. Dirty dishes traveled from table to table, not once being washed or changed for the clients. But at least the food looked good.

"Are you sure you want to be here, princess?" Ser Cole eyed the tavern with warry distaste.

"I want to see what life truly feels like," you said in earnest as you sat at a shacking table. Criston scoffed.

"You live in a palace, wear clothes adorned in jewels and gold and ride dragons for fun. You do live the life. The good one."

"I am locked in a beautiful prison, but prison nonetheless. I wear dresses I can barely move in so nobles could approve of me. Gawk at my figure, judge my manners and my speech and bid for my hand to my father. But the dragons are the good life, indeed. I cannot - and don't want to - argue with you about that."

Your hushed blurt out rendered Ser Cole to silence. It wasn't until your food came when he spoke again. Much to your delight as you couldn't believe the first time you had a chance to befriend the man you have fallen for you poured your heart out and scared him.

"I must apologize." You cringed as he went back to the cold, dutiful speech. "I assumed... I didn't know."

"I suppose I overreacted as well. I know nothing of your life before King's Landing. I know these are struggling people, who seek oblivion for a night and would gladly take my place. It's my first night to experience freedom. And soon to be the last. I am to marry one of my father's chosing, but there are so many things I want to try!"

Criston's jaws clenched at the mention of marriage. He stuffed his mouth with the game's meat to have something to focus onto in his attempt to regain composure.

"And you pick the dirtiest tavern in town?"

"It was the closest," you smiled at his teasing tone. Feeling an iced wall finally breaking down between you two. "I was hungry."

"I can see that," Criston laughed. He, then, took a handkerchief from a hidden pocked in his armor and leaned over the table. His movements were wry, doubtful. So much unlike his confidence in battle. Locking his eyes with yours, he brushed the material over your mouth.

You tried to hide your surprise, block the instict of jerking away from his touch. You didn't want him to believe you didn't enjoy it, like he seems to think you dislike his self appointed lesser company.

"Thank you," flustered and happy beyond understanding, you leaned your cheek in his touch. E/c eyes burning in pits of mysteries and lust. Though there was something more you didn't want to decipher. Didn't want to hope. Could it be love? Affection? Admiration, like Daemon watched Rhaenyra with? It was better to hope than to be dissappointed by the truth.

As Criston broke eye contact, breathing more loudly than before, kicking his leg under the table and druming his fingers on the shacking wood, you considered your options. Tasting alcohol for the first time in your life, possibly even getting drunk sounded good. Fun, even. But standing face to face to Ser Cole, having the chance to bond, or something more...

You still trembled a bit at the thought of the brothel. Except now it was mostly with regret. You have wanted to see what happens. Understand why people want it so badly. And you beat yourself up from chickening out. Just that now, you could place a reason next to your hesitation. You didn't want simply anyone willing to take you. You wanted Ser Criston Cole.

"Maybe I can take you riding one day," you spit out before you could overthink it. You, Criston and Attor, alone in the sky. It sounded like peace should feel like.

Ser Cole gulped, stopping his body to a still statue. "Ride," he cleared his throat, eyes bulged in his head, "riding, princess?"

"Yes. With Attor. Dragonback riding. You seemed to be taken by them earlier."

On the word taken, he chocked again, brown curls spasming around his head as he denied it. "I mean, yes! Please!" He seemed to come back to his senses from a chaotic dream. "I would like to fly with you."

Your small, hesitant smile brightened the dark tavern. It looked like Ser Cole was just as nervous around you as yiu were around him. Perhaps, then, he saught your friendship as you did his. Or maybe even more.

The next of the meal happened in content silence. At least on your part. Criston brushed his teeth together, resuming his hectic body movements, avoiding to look at you at all costs. Specifically avoiding to see the way your mouth wraps around bite impaled on the fork between taking it in your mouth. How your throats bobs as you swallow. Closing his eyes against the satisfying sigh you let out once you were full.

Ser Col couldn't be more thankful for thick armor he had on. Nor could he be more annoyed by it. The layers of metal and cloth painfully strangled the bulge growing in his pants at the mere proximity of you. He shouldn't have clean your mouth. The touch of your lips, even through the material of the handkerchief sent shivers down his spine. He would have come in his pants if he hadn't remind himself you were to be wed soon. Criston knew he stood no chance for your hand. But hope is a cockroach. It always finds a way to survive, no matter how many times it's stomped on to.

When you pushed your soft cheek into his roughened palm, the dreams of a day when he could snake a hand around you and catch your lips with his in a long, passionate kiss, freely, were born anew.

"Is something wrong?"

"Hm? No! No. What could be wrong, princess?"

"Y/n, please. I have to confess I jealous of my sister for quite the while now. I cannot stand these formalities from you."

Skies above! What you were doing to him! When he arrived at King's Landing, princess Rhaenyra has been a friendly voice in a sea of steel strangers. But it was you who took his breath away. With your sister he found his words easily. He could relax. Around you? He needed to impress. To hear you were feeling the same warmed his heart, dangerously so.

"Y/n. Very well, then, please call me Criston. No more 'Ser Cole'."

"Deal."

"Where to next, y/n?"

You bit your lips and his eyes fell immediately to the white of your teeth shining against the flesh of your mouth. He licked his own. It gave you the confidence you needed to ask what you wanted of him.

"Take me back to the palace."

A crease at the bridge of his nose. "You're done with the adventure tonight?"

"Not even close, Criston. I was just thinking of a different kind of adventure." You tried your best to mimic the suggestive looks you read and heard about. But you didn't know what those were or how they were supposed to feel like on your face. You only hoped you managed to pull off an inviting, sexy demeanor.

Your handsome knight gulped, reaching for his helmet to stand up. Hesitation playing in his eyes. You could tell he was trying to find the rigt words to tell you off.

So you snatched the heavy, shining helmet from his fingers while he was lost in thought.

"Princess – y/n," he corrected himself shortly. You only beamed at him, a fleeting smirk beginning to blossom on your face. Blinking innocently at him, you took short, but many, steps back. Not once breaking the innocent haze staring in his lustful one.

"What is it, Ser... Criston?"

"My helmet, please," he extended a hand, speaking with difficulty. It encouraged you. Despite its weight you twirled it to take a better look at it.

"Oh, this little, old thing. You want it back?"

"I need it, yes."

"Well, if it's so important, come and get it." And you took off running.

That bubbly laugh you could only allow at night echoed in the crammed streets of King's Landing. You bumped into people who paid you no mind, other than, perhaps, here and there, some angry mutters or bitter warnings to be more careful.

Every now and then you'd steal a brief glance to your back. And you felt yourself become even lighter with joyous spirit each time you did. Criston was tailing you. A bashful smile creeping on his face when he, not able to take his eyes off you, ran into passer byers. As soon as the path was clear, though, his lips spread in a large grin from ear to ear.

"I can do this all night, y/n. How much can you hold up?" He teased.

"I guess we have to find out. Or..." you trailed off, coming to a quick stop. You held the helmet in front of you with both hands, urging Criston to step closer.

You stood beneath your chamber's window, where a thick tangle of ivy climbed from the ground to the crenels. You used it to climb down your window for your nightly getaways with Attor. Or climb up to avoid the guard and fetch your silent dragon from there. The window was open.

Criston neared in. Still keeping you at arms' length he tried to get the helmet without entering your space. Sharply, you brought it closer to you, forcing Criston to stumble over you.

Both if your hands were now on the helmet, but neither seemed to notice. Your chests heaved under heavy breaths, almost touching, if not for the layers of clothes between. Matching smiles worn on your faces, but you wouldn't notice, gaze locked in each other's eyes.

"Or," you breathed out, his proximity setting your already tired heart on an even quicker beat. "We could tire in a different way."

Saying so, you touched his cheek. Warm skin met your ghostly brush, sweaty from the run. You tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and once you found your fingers linked with the soft, rich curls, you couldn't move it away.

Criston's head fell on yours. Tired to fight desire any longer. The brave knight, the winner of all battles he took part in, found the one he wouldn't have a chance against. You, on the battlefield of love, lust and need.

Foreheads still touching, Criston brought his hand to your face, cupping your chin in his large palm. Large enough to cover your frame and brush a thumb over your lips.

"Are you sure? I don't think I'll be able to stop once I have even the smallest taste of you."

"Yes. I want you, Criston. Whatever it is you have in mind, do not stop."

His grip tightened on you – not enough to bruise, but enough to tell you the effect you had on him and his self restraint – as you felt the vibration of a groan passing through his body.

"You aren't aware of what you do to me, y/n."

Likewise, you wanted to say. "Than show me."

And before you knew it, his lips were on yours. The soft touch tingled your whole body and instinctively, you plucked your own lips to meet his. A satisfied moan of his was swallowed by the kiss as you let your head fall back and lids closing over your sight.

You pulled back for air, goofy smiles plastered on both of your faces. And, as if there was a thread sewed between the two of you now, you clashed your moths again. And again.

This time, his hands roamed over your body, feeling every curve, every softness of it. You sighed, pushing yourself more and more into his hands.

"Skies above!" He exclaimed in a rushed whisper of admiration. You smiled sheepishly, catching your breath.

"I want to feel you too," you said, walking your fingers over the polished grey of his armor. He stepped back, only enough to have space to untie the strings keeping his panoply in place. With slow movements, Ser Cole pulled it over his head.

He took your hand, then, placing it on his chest. You passed your palms over his upper body, feeling his muscles through the cloth hiding his body from you. When you reached the hem of his shirt, you snuck your hands underneath. He gasped, but circled your wrists with his hands to keep yours in place when you, in the panic surging through your veins, tried to remove them.

"Keep going," he rasped out. You stepped closer. The feel of his hard skin, warm and sharp under your touch, his scent - a surprisingly pleasant mix of steel and beer - filled your being. His presence possessed you, consuming you with need and want. And that you caused the same to him only strengthen the feelings.

"We can climb to my room. Window's open."

No sooner said than done, carried in the arms of Criston, you found yourselves in your dim lit room. Only the clear night sky, bright with stars and moonlight shone above the two you, illuminating your steps towards love.

Ser Cole lowered to the ground, dropping his head on your lower belly, inhaling deeply before lifting your shirt and tracing a line of light touches of his lips, forehead and nose on your bare skin. Your hands flew to his hair, threading through it as an overwhelming pleasure like you never felt before took over you.

Now Criston lingered under your breasts. Each time he exhaled a ticklish breath of hot air, your toes curled in your shoes. You pulled at his hair, grazing the skin at the back of his neck.

"Impatient, princess?" The amusement in his voice would usually melt your heart, but now it had the opposite effect. Annoyance bit bitterly in the back of your mind. So you pulled away a mere half an inch to push your clothes away. In a moment of bold desire, you stripped of every piece of material covering your body.

The sight of your naked form wiped the smugness off Ser Cole. Lips parted slightly, swallowing hard and breathing heavy with awe sparkling in his eyes, Criston grasped your arms, rubbing up and down their length slowly. His eyes searched every part of you with grateful respect: from the blissed out expression on your face, to the perched up nipples against the cold, from the bump hooding your sex to the toes rolling against the floor.

You closed in the gap, hot skin brushing against rough clothes. You tipped on your toes, circling his neck. A shiver passed through as his one of his palms came to rest low on your back, the other one digging in your hips. Partly to steady you, partly in attempt to sooth the insatiable growing need to feel you.

Your fingers danced around the hem of his shirt. Making sure to touch more of his heated body than the piece of clothing. Eventually, you traced the knotted laces, pulling softly at them until they came undone. Criston took his shirt off and, in doing so he arched his back, pushing his hips and torso into you.

A moan escaped you, stumbling over your feet in surprise. Criston caught you, letting his hands descend to your ass and squeezing it lightly. It earned him another moan, music to his ears.

Your head was resting on his shoulder, too heavy with pleasure to keep it up. An idea bloomed in your mind. Without thinking too much of it, you kissed his neck. Criston groaned and you gained confidence. You let your hands travel on his back as your mouth explored his front. Collarbone, chest, shoulder.

Criston's pants tighten against your thigh. On cue with the gasp you released, Ser Cole fell to his knees. As his hands knitted your breasts, his lips tickled your body.

When his mouth touched your pubic mound, you involuntarily pushed from him.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, getting up and giving you more space.

"No, don't be. I just... can we take it slower?"

Criston nodded keenly. "Of course."

The next time he approached you, he waited for you to make the first move. You pressed your body into his and kissed him hard. Soon, your moths were open, tongues pushing against each other, twirling in one another, teeth clashing in desperation.

He begin to suck at your neck, sloppy open mouthed kisses leaving a wet trail behind that, when wind blew from outside, rose goosebumps on your shivering form, hardening your breasts. Criston looked for permission, or any sign of hesitation in your eyes before taking one nipple in his mouth, massaging the other with his hand.

Your nails sunk in his shoulderblades, your breath coming out in hitched pants, turning your moans in cries of bliss. "Criston," his name evaded your lips. The knight froze for just a moment before straightening up and telling you to jump, driven by the sound of your pleasure speaking his name.

Criston secured your legs around his waist. His hardened erection throbbing against your wet folds. An itching sensation arouse in your pussy as your insides lit on fire. While Criston attended to your upper body, licking, sucking, biting softly, all making the knits in your belly tighter and the empty feeling in your cunt more annoying, you rolled your hips against his.

"Y/n," he groaned, somewhere between want, delight, and needy distress. His palms seized your sides, keeping you in place. An unsatisfied scoff, that sounded more like a whine, made Criston chuckle.

"Criston," you moaned, trying to escape his grasping fingers digging in your hips. "Please."

"Patience, princess, my sweet y/n. Patience. I want to make this special for you."

And how he did it!

He walked you to the bed, lowering you on the rose scented mattresses. He kissed you once. A long, slow show of love rather than lust. Then he untied his pants and let the drop to the ground. Criston wanted nothing more than to climb over you and worship your body how he knew best. But he resisted the urge, giving you a sight of his naked body.

Just as he thought, you prompted on your elbows, taking him all in. Then you crawled to the edge of the bed. Eyes piercing his own, you touched shyly the hard member between his legs. A whimper he'd never admit to echoed in the room, causing a giggle from you.

More sure on yourself, you closed your fist around his cock. You pumped it, enjoying the twitch it gave in your hands, the reactions you caught from Criston. Whose hands were now playing with threads of your hair, trying to stop himself from rutting into your fist.

In a spur of confidence you dropped your head and kissed the tip of his leaking dick. "Y/n," he yelped. "Tease." He could barely talk.

"Not at all. Just turning back the favor." You winked at him, lying back on the bed, pulling him over you.

Criston's hands trapped your head between them as he lined himself with your entrance. "Are you sure?"

"You beamed up at him, pushing your chest into his to capture his lips. "Take me, Ser Cole, Criston, I'm all yours," you said before letting your head fall on the pillow.

A small laugh broke the silence, speeding through your knight's body. He laced your fingers with his, spreading your bodies for each other. Then he touched the tip of his cock to your aching, pulsing walls. Your body reacted as on cue, clenching around it, not enough to fill you but enough to leave you wanting for more.

You raised your hips in an invitation to go deeper. Criston obliged. Listening to every shift of your body, he took his time pushing inside you, giving you time to adjust to him spreading you. Once again, your moans turned into blissed out cries as he begin to move, scratching that itch just right.

Ser Cole wasn't silent himself. Biting his lips to contain the sighs and groans, tightening his hold on your fingers to keep himself from going too fast.

You set the pace. He thrusted into you and you clenched around him, as if your pussy wanted to grab to his cock and never let go. You rolled your hips to meet him as he moved his own as if dancing.

The fire knots in your belly grew tighter and tighter and with them the strength with which your walls pulsed around him. "You're close, aren't you?" He whispered sweetly, cleaning your face of hair stuck to with with sweat. You did the same for him as you urged his head closer to yours.

"Let go, y/n," Criston murmured in the kiss. "Let go for me."

And you did. Arching your back, releasing the loudest cry so far, you came around him as he rode you through your orgasm.

Criston was still hard inside you, you noticed, even though he stopped moving. An urgent twitch spasming against your folds. He wanted to pull out when the highs of your pleasure calmed, but you held him in place.

"You didn't..."

"I know. I don't want to risk it."

Of course you knew how children were made. The thought simply didn't occur to you so far. "The maetrons have ways to prevent pregnancies," was all you said before dropping a hand to his lower back and pushing him inside your pussy.

"The things you do to me," Criston groaned. But snapped his hips again. "You feel so good," he murmured. Or rather, he wanted to. But it came out as a content scream as he shoot his own orgasm inside you.

Panting, chuckling, pecking each other's lips, none of you wanted the night to end. You couldn't agree to be empty again, not after he fit so perfectly in your body. He didn't argue too much. He didn't want to leave either. He'd live in your bed for the rest of his life, if he could. And you'd gladly let him.

You went down again when his cock perked up inside your cunt. This time, Criston switch you over, guiding your hips as you straddled his wait on top of him.

Ser Cole came faster the second time and only from watching you bounce on his cock, back arched, breasts jumping on your chest, hair flying around your head and whipping his face when you kissed.

He asked you for a rematch. Then you asked him to show you more. More positions, more ways to draw pleasure from your partner and from yourself. By the time the sun rose, you were both worn out, tired, sweaty, but blissfully happy.

[starogeorgina]

𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐚

Paring: Daemon Targaryen × reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole × reader

Warnings: Swearing, oral sex, fingering, titty sucking

1.02

It had been days since you left your quarters, and the feeling of isolation and loneliness was plaguing you while you got over whatever sickness you had. You spoke to Rhaenyra previously, and she assured you nothing was going on between her and Ser Harwin, that she merely invited him to her chambers so they could speak privately since he caught her in a compromising position with one of her most recent lovers, Lady Laena Velaryon. Which explains why Daemon would implicate your sister; his ego was bruised and he was mad. Lady Laena hadn’t ended their affair because she had been betrothed to another; it’s because she wants to be with Rhaenyra instead.

Although her confession made you feel ashamed for even doubting her, which was another reason you sought isolation.

You hadn’t seen your own lover or husband in just over a month. Harwin had returned to Harrenhal with his father the morning after you confronted him about why he was at your sister's quarters, and since he was vague, the questioning turned into a heated argument. And your father, King Viserys, had sent Daemon on some errand, which meant him leaving the keep.

You hear a knock at your door, and before you can call for it to be opened, someone enters your chambers. You raise a brow, seeing it’s Ser Criston instead of one of your handmaids. You hadn’t exchanged a word with the knight since you left his bedchamber after sharing a brief sexual encounter.

“Princess,” he bows.

“Ser Cristion,” you say, picking up your cup of wine and sinking down onto one of the plush red chairs. “What can I do for you?”

The knight begins to ramble some weak excuse on why he visited your private quarters when he had no business being there. You shut out his words as you focus on his gaze. The hunger in his eyes has caught your attention, as has the way he soaks up your appearance. The black dress you chose in the morning hugged your curves in all the right places, especially your breasts.

Ser Cristion didn’t come because he wanted to talk to you; he came because he wanted to fuck you.

“What is it you desire, my good knight?”

Standing tall, his eyes meet yours. “To please you, princess, That night we spent together, I focused only on my own pleasure and not on yours. I wish to rectify that.”

You don’t answer right away, deliberately leaving him hanging. When he takes a sharp breath, preparing himself for whatever you would reply, you slowly spread your legs open and bunch up your skirts, revealing your bare chest to him. Criston was a handsome man; his personality was questionable considering he was nothing more than a hypocrite, but who were you to refuse such an offer?

“You may please me with your mouth, but that is all.”

For a split second, you think Criston is going to leave when he faces the door, but instead of leaving, he locks it and then returns his gaze to you. You finish your wine as he kneels in front of you. He kisses your thigh, then moves his attention to your core and lets out an animalistic groan. Your eyes stay glued to him as he sucks on your clit, and your fingers tangle into his dark hair, keeping his mouth where it feels best.

You desperately wished it was someone you loved pleasing you, but yet here you are squirming around the tongue of a man you didn’t even care for, acting like a depraved whore.

—

The hour was late, and the sudden dip in the bed causes you to stir. Groggily, you rub your eyes, “Daemon?”

“My apologies for waking you, my love; I know the hour is late,” he shuffles closer to you in the bed. His bare chest is pressing against your back. “I was away much longer than I anticipated, if I had known—”

“I love you, Daemon Targaryen,” you whisper.

He seems taken aback by your sudden admission, and guilt swirls in your stomach. You had important information to tell him, but now wasn’t the time. Not when you were both exhausted.

“I don't deserve you, my sweet wife,” he says, pressing his lips against your bare shoulder. “But I'm never leaving your side again.”

—

“I was merely training him on how to please a woman properly.”

When neither of you could find sleep, you had a jug of wine and a platter of fresh fruit brought to your quarters. You now sit curled beside Daemon on one of the plush couches.

“Hmm, perhaps he won’t be such an insufferable cunt,” Daemon smirks before sipping on his wine. He found it rather amusing that you let Cole lick your cunny, but nothing else. “So... did you enjoy him tasting your sweet little cunt?”

“Hmm, I prefer your mouth on me.”

He pulls the thin fabric of your nightgown down low enough for your breasts to be exposed to him. Droplets of wine still linger on Daemon's lips when he takes your hardened nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple before he sucks on your flesh.

You giggle. “I’ve definitely missed you.”

Daemon moves his hand along your thigh, feeling the softness of your well-pampered skin beneath his fingers, before he reaches your wet core and sinks two fingers deep into your cunny. “I’ve missed you and your insatiable appetite. You’ve really got the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt.”

You moan at his words.

Greedily, he sucks on your breast while tapping at your clit with his thumb and spreading up his actions of sliding two fingers into your soaking core until the coil in your stomach snaps and his fingers are coated in your slick.

Smiling, you lean forward and nuzzle into his neck, his arms wrapping around you. “Hmm, I’m glad you are home; you have a task of the utmost importance to attend to valzȳrys.”

He rests his cheek against the top of your head while running his fingers through your hair. “And what would that be, ābrazȳrys?”

“You're going to need to find the perfect dragon egg to go in the cradle.”

It takes him a minute to process what you’ve just told him, then he smiles widely. “You are with a child?”

You place one of his hands flat on your stomach and say, “Yes, my love, I’m with a child.”

—

You nod your head and smile at the lords and ladies congratulating you. It hadn’t taken long for word of your growing family to spread around the house. Your father was ecstatic and insisted on throwing a grand feast to celebrate, which Daemon agreed to help organize. Rhaenyra had gifted you with the finest silk dresses to accommodate a growing body and toys for the baby. And all of the attention you received was a favorable distraction from missing Harwin so much.

When you reach the doorway to the library, you tell the knight accompanying you that he doesn’t need to follow you since nobody else has access to it aside from the royal family. Spotting the book Daemon intended to read to you next, you reach out to take it, but your arm is suddenly snatched.

A small gasp escapes your lips. “Ser Criston?”

Cristion’s grip tightens around your arm as he pulls you further away from the doorway room. With a devilish glare in his eyes, he asks, “Are you with the child?"

“Get your hands off me.”

You have been so busy since finding out you're pregnant that you haven’t even spoken with the knight since the night he came to your quarters. An unintentional slight on your end.

“Let go of me, or I will scream.”

He looks down at your arm to see how tightly he’s squeezing it, and let's go. “Are you with a child?" He repeats. When you don’t answer him, he takes your silence as a yes. “How far along?”

“That is none of—”

“How far along?”

Seeing the pleading look in his eyes, you sigh, “It’s been three moons since I last bled.”

His face falls.

“Criston…”

“Why?” he barks, and you immediately recoil. “Why did you need to drag me into whatever messed-up game you and the Prince are playing?”

“I will admit I made the first move that night, but you never turned me. And you are the one who tried to pursue me afterwards, so don’t play innocent.”

Cristion takes a step backwards, as though he's wrestling with something internally. He breathes angrily as his eyes move up and down, taking in the slightest swell in your stomach.

You clear your throat. “I know what you're thinking. That’s how long it’s been since we... Daemon knows.”

“And he doesn’t care?”

“No. He loves me, and he will love this child. His child.”

He remains silent as you brush by him. You were a fool for ever going to Criston that night, knowing how cruel he can be and how close he is to the queen. “I wonder how the king would feel if he heard his own precious princess wasn’t sure who the father of her child was.”

You laugh. “Why don’t you share that theory, Cole? I’m sure Prince Daemon would love to hear it.”

He glares at you.

“We all need to live with the consequences of our actions, and I have done things that I’m ashamed of, but if you ever utter a threat to me or my family again, nothing will be able to save you from the wrath of dragons. Do you understand?”

When Criston says nothing, you get the book for Daemon, and as you're leaving the library, you hear a muffled ‘spoiled cunt’ fall from the knight's lips.

—

Taking a deep breath, you pinch the bridge of your nose. Of course, there was a very slim chance that Daemon wasn’t the biological father of your baby.

Entering your quarters, you immediately notice something feels different—a shift in energy. You call out, “Daemon?”

He appears within seconds, his expression hard to read. He kisses your cheek and says, “There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.”

“Who?”

“Try as you might, you cannot hide anything from me,” he says quietly. “I sent a raven asking for his return.”

Your lips part slightly as the question of who he wrote lingers on your lips, but in seconds you turn a corner and come face to face with Harwin. Your eyes swell with tears.

He stands at attention, “princess.”

“Harwin…”

Husband - Valzȳrys

Wife - Ābrazȳrys

[bucknastysbabe]

criston cole in a greens win au really is the kingmaker if he’s cucking aegon. slapped a crown on the king and now he’s making bastard kids to go on the throne. u go king.

Now I must write a blurb hnghhhh cuckingggg this is prob ass bc I’m sick rotting in bed with flubonic plague but OH WELL

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dayne!reader, greens win AU, Criston is dark and manipulative, Aegon sad sacking around the place, cukolding, exhibitionism, breeding kink, crispy creme pie, infidelity, v!fingering, oral (m!receiving), pnv!sex, no beta I die like Ned stark, jealousy, one-sided-ish

Taglist: @starogeorgina @moncherri @bambitas @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @arcielee @valeskafics @sugarpoppss2 @fairysluna @lovelykhaleesiii

Do Your Job - C.Cole

Criston stopped caring long ago, pulling himself out of the layered filth of blood, gore, and dirt. Bodies of his men. The butcher’s ball they called it. Criston made sure that the Winter’s Wolves, Benjicot Blackwood, and Roddy the Ruin got a nice death by dragon. After some torture.

He saw through with that, as the Hand of the King and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Criston had to attend to such matters. Such as what to do with Rhaenyra’s last child. Or the fucking mess that was Aegon. Aemond was still lurking around Harrenhal— said to return when his child was born. Aegon meanwhile, made Criston’s blood boil. Alicent was a maddened gnat in his ear.

Aegon had been recently remarried to a Dayne of Starfall, seeking out the ashen hair and Valyrian eyes of the Dornish house. She was gorgeous, eager to please, and could suck Criston’s prick under his desk for hours. The adorable queen had trouble with Aegon— considering the man was a bag of shattered bones and burns. The maesters had been attending to the two’s fertility plan.

She was not hard to woo, seeking Cole’s comforts as Aegon still wanted to hoard playthings and whores, uncaring much of his wife at the moment. He bedded her regularly— but they had to be careful with his bad leg and hip. Criston’s little star, beautiful as one, was the shiniest thing in the dreary keep by far. But horribly lonely, so he’d been keeping an eye, asking the Queen to help him with letters and tasks of the realm.

It wasn’t long before she was in his lap crying about how terrible the Red Keep was. Criston had his proverbial claws sunk deep into her by then. He meant his words of praise, how special his star was, and meant doubly on how much he too hated the Keep. Criston’s fingers crawled up her dress as he cooed, bringing the girl to likely her first orgasm since arriving.

They sat together in the Hand’s foyer, Ser Cole writing a letter to some raucous lordling. He ran a hand through his hair and sat back, dark eyes meeting a strange indigo of sorts. “Have there been any advancements with the maesters and your womb?” She shook her head, blush dusting her cheeks.

“Go on, what’s the issue my star?”

She leaned over the table to grip his hands, pleading in her body language. “Do not grow wroth when I tell you this okay?” Criston nodded, there was no chance he would not be pissed. Just a feeling. The Dayne sighed, “He’s impotent but he swears it’s me, I don’t know, they’ve started transferring his, seed, into me. By now I’m not sure, he berates me about it.” Criston’s eyes narrowed and she squeaked.

The smaller figure was picked up by him, striding to the King’s chambers. Where Aegon was like to be making two court favorites defile themselves. The queen begged, “My lord, please, I know you feel strongly for me but-“

He growled, “No!,” then softer, “No. He’s being a fool, a lady’s desire should help the process. I’ll oversee you two. We need heirs to the throne.”

He kicked open the door, startling a half-awake Aegon. Criston gently laid the Queen on the bed then turned to a glaring Targaryen. Aegon’s burnt face twisted in annoyance, slightly slurring, “The hell is going on here Cole?” A goblet of wine sat in front of him— of course he was drinking.

Criston folded his arms. “You’re drunk right now? It’s barely even past midday.”

“Sorry, one tends to get bored when his wife would rather cavort around with the Hand,” he acridly spat back.

She protested from behind, “Alright, I can stay around, it’s fine!”

Criston eyed his star and back to Aegon. He asked “You have a beauty like that and can’t fill her belly with seed? You have the maesters stuff her like a turkey instead? Pathetic.”

Aegon’s form shook with rage, reaching for his crutch, Criston swiftly kicking it out of the way with a clatter. Aegon barked, “I’m your goddamn king, bring that back now! Maybe she’s the one barren, dirtied by lowborn seed!”

That little fucker! Criston’s eye twitched. He had not put his cock into her sacred place but now? Someone had to do the job— and it would be him. The taller brunette forced Aegon’s chair closer to the bed, the king hissing in pain, violet eyes wide. Cole chastised, “Since you’re so smart, I’ll do a little test, see if my lowborn cock has sullied her womb.” Aegon’s soft face pulled into a frown, squirming in position.

Criston began to pull at his gauntlets in quick snaps, then the bracers, and the chest plate along with the heavy shoulders. He decided to keep his chain of hands on as an ego boost. Lowborn cock raised to the second highest position in the realm, doing the highest position’s job.

Dayne stared at him, eyes flicking to the strangely silent Aegon, then back. Criston smiled at the queen, winding a tan hand into her ashen locks. He murmured, “Don’t worry dearest, we’ll have you feeling wonderful in no time, right your Grace?” Aegon remained stone cold— lips pouting.

The hand began to ease off the simple Dornish layers of her dress, baring that gorgeous body. How could she not be fertile? His star was all curves and soft skin, she would be great as a mother. Criston told her that, earning a whine, her legs wrapped around his waist. He panted to the king, “First, they need to be actually attracted to you.”

Cole pressed lush kisses to her neck and shoulders, his big hand testing the waters between her thighs. She was a little wet, not yet how he could get the Dayne, sopping. He rasped just for her ears, “Relax for me, he’s so jealous you might get an obedient king. Gorgeous star doesn’t know her own wiles.” She writhed a bit, tits pressed tight against flat chest.

“Oh, oh, there my Lord,” the blonde panted.

Criston was pumping one finger into her velvet heat, sliding in a second one to crook upwards. His thumb swirled around her swollen bud. He laughed carelessly at Aegon, whose scarred hands dug into the sides of his chair, puffy lips open. The brunette snarked, “See how easy it is not to be a selfish prick? It’s quite rewarding to make your lady come— although I think she’s already too attached to me.”

The king whined softly.

The queen moaned louder, crying Criston’s name and wetting his fingers further. The knight pulled from her full tits, purposely working her cunt over while asking. “Doesn’t that feel good little star? Don’t you wish your King would take care of you like that?” The queen gasped and mewled, cheeks a deep flush, eyes guiltily looking over at the squirming Aegon.

Criston patted her cheek, pressing a kiss over plump lips. Inky eyes and smug lips turned again to talk down to the Targaryen. He added in a dark voice, “Obviously you can’t do the fucking job so I will until you get it up and pump her with a blonde one. Although I am quite attached myself, she’s a wonderful little star. I’m going to fuck her good and thorough. Our first time too.”

Aegon whined, begging, “Ser, stop, I didn’t know, don’t!” But his hard cock was pulsing and the king had made no attempt to call for help. He couldn’t move either, the crutch out of his grasp. Aegon watched Criston work his wife into a peak, her pretty breasts heaving, thighs twitching. Utterly gorgeous. Jealousy swelled within his burnt chest.

The Dayne beauty sloppily mouthed against Criston’s mouth, trailing down to press kisses against his lower belly, grabbing his cock before asking. “You want to impregnate me sir? Give me an heir?” She could almost explode at the thought. Criston nodded, eyes hazy as her plump lips enveloped his cock, hands expert on rolling his balls and the other working in tandem with that warm mouth.

Aegon made a gutted noise.

Criston groaned deeply, watching his length disappear down velvet throat. The queen kept her indigo eyes on him, teary and wide. Fucking beautiful. He swallowed down a weak noise and rasped to Aegon, “She’s quite good at this, willing to please and eager to learn your Grace. But there you are, quickly back to your old ways.” She shuddered at the praise, Criston easing his star off so the real fun could begin.

He murmured, “On your back sweetling.” He pecked her once, shivering at the taste of him. The queen laid on her back, instinctively tucking a pillow under her hips. Criston rumbled, playfully giving her ass a smack. “Good girl, mmm, you just want to be a mama hm?” The shared noises of Aegon and his Queen made the Knight laugh.

He eased himself on top, making sure her thick thighs spread around his waist. The knight laid forward, grinning and nuzzling her nervous face. He cooed, “You’re safe with me star, pretty baby, doing so good.” Her arms slunk around his shoulders, their bodies fitting with together as Criston eased himself into her slick, swollen folds.

Fuck, she was tight and pulsing already, inner walls aiming to milk the man. Lady Dayne cried out, busty tits heaving as she was filled up by Ser Criston’s heavy cock. It was foreign, having so much care put into her pleasure. She moaned in surprise when he bottomed out, rasping nonsense against her neck.

Aegon sniveled now, watching his Queen get something he couldn’t possibly provide. Ser Criston, the crafty fucker, already worked his magic and cock into his queen. The blonde regretted many an action against his wonderful wife— seeing how she mooned over fucking Cole. Cole; a common born conniving oathbreaking madman, he truly enjoyed seeing suffering and agony. But there he was, giggling and gently fucking Aegon’s queen, the picture of chivalry. He needed more wine, and to tug his miserable cock.

Criston hiked her legs up, the back of her knees in the crooks of his arms— a mating press. She cried out, little hands scrabbling at his shoulders, eyes getting teary with pleasure. He moaned low, forcefully fucking himself inside her tight cunt, making sure she could feel every little drag and thrust. She mewled in ecstasy, “Criston, Ser, breed me, breed me please! Ohh I want it, need it!”

He grinned at Aegon’s sobs and pulling of his own prick. Criston teased “You want my seed star? Want to be all pretty and round, knowing your Lord Hand made you swell? Tits and hips so ripe for me, such a pretty mother you’ll make.” She tightened around him, arching her back, practically drooling. He focused on fucking her deep, swiping his thumb around her button, earning the cutest little mewls.

“Yes! Gods yes! Criston,” she howled, clamping down on his prick. He pressed his lips to hers, grunting as he fucked her to the point of no return. He cooed at his cute little star crying out her peak, gushing all over his still-moving cock. She weeped, “Please, give me your seed, want to be a mama, please!” Cole couldn’t deny her request, groaning long and low as his tummy tightened, emptying pump after pump of his cum into her tight pussy. He bit his lip bloody in the process, feeling feral, but the knight wouldn’t tear her skin like that.

He let go of her legs, gently holding her canted hips, humming, “How long do they say wait Aeg?”

A sharp cry, gasp, and tortured, “15 minutes.”

The Dayne didn’t even seem to be worried about her broken husband, smiling and holding Criston’s big hands. She kissed at each knuckle, eyes full of adoration and love. How they should be. How he deserved all along. What a special little star.

The first two came out with brown hair and eyes, sending a familiar shock across the keep. Then the third had ashen hair, just like the Queen. Mayhaps the Targaryen gene wasn’t that strong within Aegon, people whispered. Criston would smile, not indulging a secret. He’d rub her pretty bump alone, let Aegon play the daddy. He did alright enough.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Waters

summary: Your existence is an insult to the woman you serve, Alicent Hightower. As Viserys Targaryen's bastard, you should not be serving his lawfully wedded wife - and Ser Criston knows this. Still, he can't seem to stay away...

notes: criston cole x targ!bastard!reader (reader is the daughter of viserys, but not one of his wives bc I am a viserys hater at each turn and opportunity) ALSO criston is extremely mean in this for no reason lmao

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie  @a-beaverhousen @hightowhxre @dahlias-and-marigolds (msg me to be added/removed)

masterlist | based on this request

In all truth, Ser Criston scared you. Queen Alicent, whom you served as a handmaid, may have cherished her protector, but to you, he was a terrifying shadow, one that judged you for your birth whenever your eyes met.

You were putting away the queen’s jewellery when he practically appeared behind you.

“Are you stealing, Waters?” the kingsguard snapped. You jumped, dropping the Queen’s favorite ring. Quickly, you picked it up, placing it back to its rightful place.

“No, ser. I was only… I only needed to clean this for the morrow.” You stuttered. Criston scoffed behind you, a firm hand gripping onto your shoulder.

“You are a disgrace to the Queen’s household.” He snarled, his voice right at your ear. You shuddered, only ever nodding. You knew that you were a thorn in her eye, a servant that also served as a reminder of her husband’s infidelity. But you’d never chosen where you were. If you could, you would have left King’s Landing with your half-brother, Daeron.

“Apologies, ser.” You finally said. “I shall take my leave.”

For a moment, you were stupid enough to believe that Ser Criston would let you leave. It was only when he blocked the door that your stomach dropped. He smirked down at you, white armor and Dornish beauty making him a sight to behold.

You hated that it made you blush, your head fuzzy,

“Bastard.” He spat. You tried to shift around him, but he never let you, instead pinning you to the wall next to the door. “Did you steal something?”

You shook your head quickly, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

“I shall not ask again.” Criston said, his next words punctuated. “Did you steal something, Waters?”

“No.” you replied. “I swear it.”

The pressure on you relieved itself a little bit, and you took a small breath of relief.

“Perhaps next time, I shall search you.” Criston mumbled idly. You said naught in return, ignoring the thought of I don’t know if I’d mind that all that much.

Your eyes flickered to his lips, and lower, almost automatically. Quickly, you looked back up at his face, before giving a small curtsy. You prayed he hadn’t noticed.

“And what would you be looking at now?” Criston asked. You didn’t answer, didn’t dare, until Criston tipped your face upwards, forcing you to look at him.

“Speak, girl.” He spat. There was so much rage in his eyes, so much anger that you felt yourself crumble, your throat dry as you answered.

“I was looking at your lips, ser.”

Criston laughed cruelly, his hand tightening around your jaw almost painfully.

“Would the little bastard girl like to kiss me?” he asked. You never answered. It had been beaten into you by septas. If you’d lied, you were just like all other bastards. Your silence was enough, and Ser Criston smiled at you so coldly that you wished you could disappear.

It surprised you when he kissed you, but not that his kiss was methodical, devoid of love or affection. And yet, you craved it so much that you leaned into it, allowing his hand to ruck up your skirts and grab your thighs as he pleased.

As his hand travelled up your smallclothes, you were suddenly reminded of the fact that Alicent, your Queen, the woman your father had humiliated, the most powerful woman of the Seven Kingdoms was asleep in the room next to you.

“Please, Queen Alicent is-“ you began, but Criston shushed you.

“You’ll have to shut your mouth.” He said simply. As he dropped to his knees, you closed your eyes, knowing that he wasn’t doing this to pleasure, but to humiliate, to degrade you. As his kisses, this was cold too, but Gods was it good.

Your hand flew to your mouth, covering it in hopes of stopping any sounds from escaping. When a whimper left you, Criston paused, his fingers sinking into you as he looked up at you from his spot on the ground.

“Shut your mouth, you slut.” He insulted, and despite the feeling of humiliation in your gut, you nodded, closing your eyes shut and pressing your hand to your mouth, praying to the Gods that it would be enough.

Criston’s tongue lapped at you, and if you didn’t know better, you would have said that he felt like a starving man trying to sustain himself from just you. Gods, he was good, too good for a bloody kingsguard, and he was doing it all to humiliate you.

Ser Criston was out to get you, to leave you alone in the dark, and the both of you knew it. His hand returned to your thigh, squeezing it tightly, running down your skin and making you feel cherished while the dark look in his eyes did the exact opposite.

Your free hand slowly, cautiously, touched his hair. Carefully, you let your fingers twist into his dark curls, pushing him down to where you needed to be. Had he sprung up and murdered you in that moment, you wouldn’t have been surprised.

He would have done exactly what you expected of him.

Instead, Criston only laughed at your desperation, the hum of his voice making you squirm under his grip. Criston took that as a sign, pushing you further onto your queen’s vanity, skirts rucked up to your waist and cunt exposed to him.

If anyone, guards or the queen walked in in this moment, you were absolutely, royally fucked. Not even your father would attempt to save you then, not that he had ever cared about you all that much to begin with.

Your orgasm washed over you with a cruel intensity. It built itself too quickly, Criston’s movements harsh and unforgiving, and when he pushed you over the edge, it made you feel as if you were truly falling. Your hand still over your mouth, you could feel yourself beginning to truly bite down on it as he kept on going.

Stars exploded behind your eyes, but instead of focusing on how you felt, your only thought was that you could not let the queen hear, could not alert the guards, make any sound at all. Perhaps, if your brain had not turned to mush the second Ser Criston had pushed you up against the wall, you would have told him to stop now.

Of course, there was no guaranteeing that he actually would have stopped. Somewhere in the back of your mind, that thought thrilled you, too.

And when you fell over the  edge, Criston kept going, spurring your pleasure on until it became to much and you tried to scramble away from him on the small vanity space that the Queen usually occupied. Your heart dropped as one of her rings fell to the ground, the sound of it making it seem like the loudest thing in the entire world.

Your heart thumped, waiting for the worst to happen. Instead, Criston paused his assault, sneering at you.

“Dumb whore, watch what you’re doing.” He said, and you looked down, ashamed. The folds of your rumpled skirt only served as a reminder as to what exactly you were doing.

“What, don’t have anything to say for yourself?” Criston asked. Your silence seemed to enrage him just as much as when you spoke, and he stood in front of you. Traces of you glistened on his face in the dark, your thighs already aching from his grip, but it seemed that this was not enough for him.

“Get on the floor.” He commanded. You could have left now, made a run for it for somewhere where guards would think that you hadn’t done anything yet, that it was the kingsguard who was dishonouring you, and not you yourself.

Of course, they still probably would have let it happen, but at least, you only would have been sent away from court with rumours following you.

Yes, you could have left. Yet, your feet planted themselves to the ground, frozen there, and you remained, staring at Criston with the smallest bit of defiance. It crumbled under his cold gaze, and you felt yourself dropping to the ground for him.

He didn’t even have to ask you to open your mouth for him, and so, it was your own mind that taunted you for it. His hand threaded through your hair almost gently, slowly guiding you before he picked up a quicker pace. His cock hit the back of your throat, and you gagged around it, but he seemed to relish that feeling, too.

It appeared as if he got bored with you like this, though. Perhaps he was used to seeing you in such positions of servitutde, kneeling for your queen to straighten out her dress, doing anything and everything to please the people around you like the loyal bitch you were. Just like now.

Criston’s hands wrapped around your hips, holding you in place as he bent you over. Your own hands scraped against the wooden floor, trying to find some sort of stability as you tried to find something to anchor you between the ache in your knees that came with kneeling, your pleasure and the absolute humiliation that only served to make your pussy drip even more.

He entered you without warning, and though you had felt his size in your throat just moments before, it still punched the air out of you as he sheathed himself in your cunt. There was a stretch, though you were ready, and though you thought you’d been prepared, but the sting of it still made you bit your lip in an attempt to stay quiet.

One hadn remained on your hip while the other, his swordhand, the one he used to kill, wrapped around the back of your neck Calmly, Criston pushed your head down to the floor, and there was no need to humiliate you verbally, his actions were enough entirely.

Slowly, he began to move, the hand around your hips moving down to your clit, an arm keeping you locked in place. There was nowhere to run, and, even if Alcient herself had walked into the room in this instant, you knew that he wouldn’t have stopped.

A part of your humiliation was soothed by the fact that the perfect, pious Ser Criston could not resist you, a plain bastard. That part of you was drunk on power, quickly beginning to overtake the parts that had been afraid, and you felt brave enough to let a small sound slip. Only a quiet one, one that was sure to be swallowed by thick walls and myrish tapestries.

Ser Criston’s face curdled into a snarl, and his movements picked up, his pace so burtal that you could ee your skirts rocking across the floor. Still the feeling of it was better than most things you had experienced as Ser Criston’s hand feverishly circled your clit. You could feel your second peak approaching, a wave building within you that had one of your hands leaving the floor and going back to your mouth.

You bit down on the back of your hand as you came, walls helplessly clenching down on Ser Criston’s movements. He did not relent, hips jerking into you almost uncontrollably.

There was no warning when he had his release, moaning quietly as his seed covered your walls. With a few more thrusts, Criston pulled out, leaving you panting. Your hair stuck to your forehead with sweat, wrists and knees aching from holding up your weight, but none of it compared to the soreness of your thighs and cunt.

You knew you would not be able to walk the next day.

A small part of you hoped that Ser Criston would show you some affection, perhaps kiss you gently or take your hand, but none of that ever came. Instead, he stood after a few moments, pulling his breeches back on and walking out of the door.

You sat slowly, trying to straighten out your skirts. Still on your knees, you put Queen Alicent’s fallen jewellery back onto her vanity, before you tried to stand on shaking legs. As his seed dripped down your thighs, you had the sinking realisation of what he had just done to you.

If you did naught, there was a good chance you’d soon be carrying his child…

[thestoryden]

The Heir's Betrayal

Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Crying, Suicidal Intent, Violence

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Ser Criston is definitely not one of my favorite characters given his actions in certain episodes, but I am in love with his archetype. I don't have a masterlist yet, but if you'd like to read another HOTD fic I've written Savior is up. If you like this feel free to write a request. Have fun reading.

Masterlist / Taglist / Requests: Open

The Heir's Betrayal

You had never been ambitious in your life. You didn’t need to be. You were already on top of the food chain. Every desire you had was met instantaneously, so there was nothing to drive you to do more. You played your role well and you knew it. You were the second daughter of the king Viserys Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. You admired your sister Rhaenyra for her boldness. She was steadfast and strong. When she picked the new kings guard you thought nothing of it till you laid eyes upon him at his ceremony for swearing into the Kingsguard. When Ser Criston Cole was formally sworn in you were dumbstruck by his presence. You had never felt anything like this before. His physique was graceful and powerful, and when you look upon his face your heart grips your body. After that day you often found yourself trailing behind him and observing him closely. When he became Rhaenyra’s sworn protector you found yourself wanting to spend more time with your sister.

“I am off to see Rhaenyra.” You say to your remaining attendant.

“Princess, you saw her not even two hours ago, I am sure she would like some rest from your company and it is such a late hour.” Your attendant advises.

“You may be right, but Rhaenyra loves me dearly, and I am sure she will not mind.” You state.

You attendant seizes your arm and looks into your eyes earnestly. You pull back and stare at her eyes wide.

“My princess, you do not understand.” She says.

“I do not understand what, exactly?” You question.

“There have been whispers, I do not wish to see you what has caused them, for I am sure it would break you.” She replies.

Your face heats up and shove your attendant away.

“Lies.” You whimper.

“My princess,” Your attendant says reaching out to you.

“I will solve this matter at once, I will ask Rhaenyra.” You say stubbornly.

Your attendant calls after you but you storm from your apartments to Rhaenyra’s. Your face burns with every step you take. You couldn’t believe one your personal attendant, who you had had as a companion for years, would say such a thing. You did not want to believe what would happen if she was right. Would Rhaenyra lie to you if you asked her. You reach the door to her room and there is no Kingsguard at the door. The Heir would never be left unattended, unguarded. You throw open the door and see Rhaenyra embracing Ser Criston as she pressed her face to his. The wooden door makes an aweful thud when it hits the stone wall. They both snap toward the entrance and see you standing there. They immediately separate and both start explaining, but their words trip over one another and don’t make sense.

“Ser Criston, leave us.” You demand.

Your face is boiling with rage. You can’t figure out if it is the betrayal of Rhaenyra’s actions or failure to uphold her duty that bothers you more. Criston drops to his knees in front of you.

“Please, Princess,” Criston begs, “Please, show mercy. It is me who is at fault. Make my death a quick one.”

You step past him and you are toe to toe with your sister. She still has a bit of height on you. You can feel her breath on your face.

“Rhaenyra, what have you done.” You question.

“I have done nothing wrong. I took what I desired. You would have done the same in my position.” She says curtly.

“I would have not.” You say aghast at her hypothetical allegation.

“Yes,” Rhaenyra insists, “Yes you would have. You may be able to foul father and all of the other Lords and Ladies, but you can not foul me. I have known you since the day you were born and I will know you till the day you die.”

“Rhaenyra, my actions on not the ones in question.” You shout.

Ser Criston is audible sobbing at this point.

“But they are,” She presses, “I have seen you. You leer unabashedly at him as if no one sees.”

“My looks mean nothing.” You say, “They do not jeopardize our family, our kingdom, the way your actions do.”

Rhaenyra’s hand comes down on your face. You stumble back and fall to the ground. Not from the force, but from the shock of it.

“I am the heir, my actions do not endanger the realm,” She proclaims, “You questioning them does.”

You feel a tear prick the side of your lashes, then another, and another till your face is a stream.

“Sister.” You cry out.

“Ser Criston, see to it that the little princess makes it back to her chambers.” Rhaenyra commands coolly.

Ser Criston rises to his feet and mutters, “I will see to it Princess.”

He drags you out of the room and shuts the door as you weep. His face is still swollen from crying. Yours in forming a red welt from where you were hit. He tries to pull you up to stand, but you just collapse back on to the cold stone floor. He hoists you over his shoulder and walks you back to your room. He holds the back of your head mindful of the top of the entrance and shuts the door behind him. He sets you on your bed and kneels beside you. You curl in to a ball as sobs continue to wrack your body.

“Leave.” You command.

Ser Criston does not move from where he is knelt. He instead he takes your hand and place cold steel in it. You open your eyes and look to see a small blade resting on your palm.

He breathes heavily and begins a soft plea, “My princess, I have failed the realm. I have failed as Kingsguard to protect your family. I have failed as a sworn protector to keep the princess from harm. Instead, I have perpetrated this betrayal and caused infighting. Please, spare me from living with this dishonor.”

Criston wraps his hand around your and guides the blade to his throat.

“No,” You say sharply, casting aside the blade.

Criston retrieves the dagger and places in your hand once more.

“Please, if what the princess said is true, I know you will spare me the dishonor of living with what I have done.” Criston begs.

Your stand up from your bed. Criston relaxes his shoulders and looks up so as to present his neck. He closes his eyes and waits. You take the dagger and move to the window, tossing it out. You sit back down on your bed. You place your hand gently on his cheek.

“Ser Criston, your honor can be restored, your life can not.” You say.

He collapses into your resting his head on your lap. You say nothing, but stroke his dark hair from his face. He begins to sob once more.

“Please, please forgive me, my princess.” He prays.

[fallingintoyourlilaceyes]

I want to speak to your manager (modern!Criston Cole x reader)

synopsis: On a late-night adventure to McDonalds the fries you are given are cold. Deciding to stand up for yourself you ask the kid at the counter for the manager. Who would have thought that what you get is so much more than just some fresh, hot fries?

warnings: age gap (reader is in her early twenties), smut, making out, oral sex (m receiving), p in v, afab reader

word count: 2.4k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bucknastysbabe

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you @bucknastysbabe for this cursed idea💜 it was so fun to write this and expand the alternative universe of fast food restaurants that you have lowkey created now lmao and also the other fics that are soon to come

Dividers by me

Writing your bachelor thesis had to be the worst experience of your life. And the worst part about it was, that it was a hell of your own making. At first you had struggled to find a topic to write about and when you finally did, your procrastination set in hard. Cursing yourself for all of it, you close and push away the laptop in front of you, rubbing a hand over your face. Attempting to calm down by taking a few deep breaths, you get interrupted by a loud and quite frankly painful rumbling deep in your stomach, reminding you of the fact that you had skipped every meal since breakfast and one look at the clock revealed that it was currently the middle of the night. Great, you think to yourself. Grabbing your keys, phone and wallet you make your way down to the car to drive to the next spot that was still open. McDonalds. Waiting in line you ignore the cashier bickering with a customer about their order by finding something to eat. Despite the grumbling in your stomach nothing really calls to you, except for the fries. So, when you get called up to order a portion of fries and a milkshake will have to do. Sitting down in one of the seats in the back, you take a few fries into your hand and dunk them into the vanilla milkshake. They feel quite cold already, but when you bite down on them it's not only the cold of the milkshake that fills your mouth. Perfect. Just perfect.

For a moment you ponder just accepting your fate, but then decide to stick up for yourself. You deserved some fresh fries. You deserved some warm food when you ordered it. Though you still felt sorry for the kid you are about to ask for the manager. If there was something you hated, it was the possibility of being seen as a Karen. Ugh, alright. For the sake of some hot fries, you motivate yourself to get up and walk up to the counter again.

“What can I do for you?” The kid with long silver hair asks in a flat, but still polite tone.

“Hey, um I´m really sorry to do this, but um the fries your coworker just gave me are ice cold. Would it be possible to let me speak to your manager, please?” You grace the blond with an apologetic smile, though both of you are aware it doesn't do anything to change your request.

"Yeah, sure. If you wait here for a moment, I'll go get him." The blond turns to get his manager.

"Thank you. I'm sorry." You smile apologetically again.

You aren't sure how long it takes or how long it is supposed to take until the person you asked for gets to the front, but the waiting makes your foot tap and your palms sweat. When the tall, tan man steps around the corner however, your entire bodies movement stops at once.

Your lips part slightly, and you are sure to hear a quiet, high pitched “Hoo” fall from them. Embarrassed by the sound that just left you, you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

“I´m the manger, Criston Cole. What can I help you with?” There is faint, but very captivating dornish accent swinging in his formal voice. "I-I..." You stumble over your words at the gorgeous dark eyes and the handsome stubble looking back at you. "Well, I really hate to be this person, but I just came in and the fries one of your employees gave me was almost freezing cold." "I am so sorry, I pride myself on having employees that are competent enough to not have this happen. Let me get you a new portion right away.” Cole promised, his dark eyebrows pulled together tightly in thought of who he might need to talk to.

“Thank you so much. And I am sorry I interrupted your day with this matter. You sure have more important things to do.” Your cheeks begin burning as you apologise to him as well.

"Oh, no. There is no reason to apologise. If anything, it helped to make any future experiences here more pleasant." He narrows his eyes at the short haired blond that initially served you. Letting him know he was in trouble though it was met with a cocky smile and an air of indifference. "Can I do anything else for you?"

You don´t know what happens when he asks this, but suddenly there courses only adrenaline and desire through your system. The almost pitch-black eyes that look back at you have you in a trance. The equally dark curls enticing you to run your fingers through them.

Without thinking about it too much, you all but blurt out. “When do you get off?”

Criston´s eyes widen for a second. When the surprise has ebbed away however, he eyes you up and down.

“In about an hour. I´m parked directly by the back entrance, meet me by my car then.” His dark eyes roam over your body once before he gives you a wink and disappears back into his office.

Woken up from the trance his eyes had you in, you stand there for a moment longer, perplexed as to what just happened. When the realization does sink in, a happy little grin spreads on your lips. Bitten back by the lower lip between the teeth to not make you look like an entire idiot. Sitting back down in the corner, you eat your fresh fries and kill the rest of the time by scrolling through your phone.

You don´t have to wait outside for long. Only a few minutes after you reach the car, the bac entrance door opens to reveal the man you were waiting for. Criston opens the passenger side door of the vehicle for you and then takes his place in the driver’s seat.

Immediately his large, warm hand cups your cheek to pull you closer, his lips locking with yours. The hungrily crushing together body parts make your breath hitch and closed eyes flutter. The silk of his shirt feels smooth underneath your own finger pads, which crumple it the moment Criston begins mouthing at your neck. Sucking at the skin to leave his marks and arouse you further. The hand that is not on your cheek to move your head around as he pleases, comes up from your hips to toy with your breasts until it heaved from panting breathes. He connected his lips to yours again, the hand from your cheek now laying in the back of your neck, squeezing it ever so lightly sending a shock of electricity down your spine. You moan into the kiss. A breathy sound of absolute perfection that makes his already hard cock twitch in the uncomfortably tight pants. His tongue then licks over your lower lip to silently ask for entrance, being granted it straightforwardly. Your lips open for your tongue to come out and play with his. The two muscles dancing together and exploring the others mouth, while one of your hands lays on the bulge between dark haired man's legs. Almost instantly he begins to rub against the palm in search of friction. This time it is him who groans into the caress of tongues.

The sound urges you on, to fiddle with the belt and button of the pants, until finally you can pull them down just enough to free his cock from its tight confines. Pulling away from his hungry lips, you sit a bit further back on the car seat, to bend forward more comfortably. The hand that Criston previously had rutted himself against now took the base of it as your lips placed little pecks and kitten licks to the already with pre cum beaded tip. As you do so the hair that frames your face falls forward like a curtain. Just as it falls it is pulled back by his hand threading into it, giving it a light tug in the process, just as you wrap your lips around his length, taking it in until your lips almost reached the fingers at his base. The action coaxes a moan from you, which in turn heightened his pleasure as it vibrates through him. Concentrating on breathing through your nose and accommodate his size in your throat, you begin to bob your head up and down in a steady rhythm.

“Shit, your mouth feels so great around my cock.” Criston rasps above you.

Letting him guide your head, you relax your jaw a little further and lick up the vein on the underside of his dick. Wet slurping and light gagging sounds fill the vehicle as you hollow out your cheeks to suck on the sensitive tip.

“You´re so eager… fuck… I don´t think I´m gonna last long if you continue like this.” He growls and whines.

The sounds go straight to your core, to leave you craving for more. You communicate as much by whining around his length. It is the most desperate sound he has ever heard. The dornish man's cock twitches in your hold and to your surprise you get pulled off it only seconds after. Looking up, you see his head had fallen back to rest against the seat. His hair is mussed by his own hand running through it repeatedly in the heat of the moment and somehow the affected state, the way his chest heaves, makes him look even better than before.

“I want to feel you inside of me. Now.” You beg him in the sweetest tones he had ever heard.

“Yeah? Are you that desperate? You need my cock that bad?” The questions escape him with the cockiest and simultaneously sexiest smirk you have ever seen in your life.

“Fuck, yeah. I need your cock so badly.” You plead while mouthing at his neck.

“Well, if you´re asking so nicely, how could I say no to that.”  Criston puts his seat back to make more space for the two of you and then pulls you onto his lap by the hips.

There is no patience left between you two. The air is thick with your mutual need for release and filled with the light scent of sweat and the promise of what´s to come. In the blink of an eye your panties are ripped off and Criston sinks himself into you.

“Oh seven… You´re tight.” He gasps, letting his head fall back against the seat’s headrest once more.

“Shit, you´re stretching me out so well. So big.” You whine back.

You set an almost painfully slow pace when you begin to bounce on his lap, until you get used to his size. The whimpers from your lungs getting muffled by the hollow of his neck.

When the pain in your core subsides, your hips automatically begin to rock against his harder and faster, which he takes as a sign to meet your thrusts. If there was any reason to doubt how good of an idea this was before, it is all gone now. Criston hits a point inside of you that no one has ever reached before, making your eyes roll back and your moans to become hoarse as you bury your face in his neck. The sensations of him bullying your sweet spot become overwhelming fast. Your legs tremble at his sides and the movement of your hips falters fast as he steadily drives you towards the sweet relief of orgasming. The only way you can keep up the rhythm of meeting Criston´s thrusts is by the help of one of his hands supporting your backside and using the chance to massage your ass cheeks.

With some strength you can lift your head again, looking at him through hazy eyes and tightly knit eyebrows. Both of your mouths hang open to make way for heavy breaths and the sounds of the pleasure you each give and receive.

When you look up at him it is like two magnets are pulling you two together by the lips. In that moment the two of you are made purely of electricity. Pushing, pulling and nibbling on the other´s lips, every kiss breathes life into you that is robbed by every new thrust into your burning core.

“Don´t stop. ´m so fucking close. Gods… so good.” You babble helplessly through the fog that clouds your brain.

“If there is a heaven I´m buried in it right now.” His words make your eyelids and inner walls flutter. “Fuck, I can feel you´re close.”

“Yes, yes. So close.” The words that leave your mouth don´t even register in your brain anymore. All you can feel is the fire burning through your body. Screaming for sweet release.

“Come for me then. Soak my cock with your juices.” Criston growls near your ear and as if they aren´t enough he takes your earlobe between his teeth to nibble on the sensitive skin.

One last time your inner walls flutter around his dick, before you do as he commands. Arching your back until your breasts press against his chest and sinking your nails into his shoulders, dragging them down to leave red streaks under the silk shirt, you let the pleasure wash over you. Trembling and shaking uncontrollably.

In the last moments of clenching around his length, you bring Criston to his own peak. Milking him for everything he´s worth, until his seed flows back out of you while you ride out your orgasm.

Underneath you Criston leans his head back to fully expose his neck, eyes squeezed shut tight and whining at the sensitivity. When both your bodies allow you to rest again, you lay against his chest for a moment, before your legs carry you onto the passenger seat. Even though they are still trembling. Looking into the mirror you do your best to wipe the sweat from your forehead and fix your hair. As you do so, you struggle to find the right words for the situation.

“That was…” You try to speak but cut yourself off with a deep breath.

“Yeah.” Criston agrees.

“So, uh…” You still wrestle with your mind for words as it slowly comes back to reality, while pulling down your dress to hide the fact that your panties fell victim to your shared passion.

“I´d like to see you again.” Criston offers after tucking away his now soft length.

“Really?” Surprise flits over your face for barely a second. “Yes, I´d like that too. Very much.”

“Great, why don´t you give me your number and I´ll give you a call some time?” The dark-haired man implored, holding out his phone for you to type in your number.

With idle fingers you take the device to do just that. Before you get out to go back to your own car, you grace his cheek with one last chaste peck.

“Call me.”