#anyways. feast my children.

[hirokiyuu]

i mentioned on the dys>sol/nomi i was gonna be posting more of my fic backlog on here and then Did Not Do That..... until now! have some dys>sol>cal. 'you sure write a lot of dys>sol where sol likes other people' yeah. yeah. i won't lie to you guys tho this run does eventually end w/dys/sol but. u kno. takes a bit :)

aaaaanyways please enjoy this Unrequited Teen Angst WWWWWWW set during early year 16!

is that the sun i see (or am i just being greedy); 700 words

Sol’s weirdly moody on the transport. Usually even if he’s quiet, he’ll be fiddling with his holopalm or listening to music or something, but today he’s in the very back, just staring out at the scenery, and when their eyes meet for half a second he doesn’t even smile. Sol always smiles when he sees Dys, which honestly used to kind of weird him out but these days… does not do that.

Still, as the team files out of the transport and breaks off into pairs, Dys keeps an eye on him instead of scouting ahead like normal -- which ends up being a good thing, because after about fives minutes out by themselves Sol suddenly lets out an enormous groan and slumps over, hunched in over himself. And Dys can’t feel fear but his heart’s pounding anyways as he runs over, careful to keep an eye on their surroundings as he leans over and says, urgently, “Sol, what --”

The moment his hand touches Sol’s back Sol jumps, enough to send himself falling back on his ass in the dirt, eyes wide with surprise like he hadn’t heard Dys sprinting towards him. “Dys?” he sputters, before glancing around. “I thought -- I mean, don’t you normally go on ahead…?”

He doesn't look hurt at all, though on closer inspection there’s bags under his eyes Dys’s never seen on his face before. “I mean,” says Dys, who can’t bring himself to say I was worried about you, “you were acting weird, so….”

“Oh,” says Sol, before managing a tiny grin up at him. “That’s… that’s really nice of you. Thanks.”

“Whatever.” Ugh. He can feel his stupid face going red. The worst part is that he can’t even leave, not with how Sol’s smile is still wobbling at the edges. “...Are you okay?”

“Oh, well, um… I mean, that’s….” The smile slides off Sol’s face piece by piece, until he gives up on it all at once and sighs miserably, pulling his knees in close until he’s curled up on himself in the dirt. “No.”

Dys… can’t even pretend to be surprised. Slowly he sits down next to Sol, watching as Sol leans forward to rest his chin on his arms, for once not even fidgeting. “...It’s stupid,” says Sol, finally. “It’s really stupid, and you’re gonna think it’s stupid too. But… if I tell you… can you pretend you don’t think it is? Just for like, ten minutes.”

This already sounds like it’s going to suck. “...Okay. I won’t… say anything, I guess.”

“Thanks.”

The moment drags out. Dys picks a little at a hangnail, waiting. Finally, Sol sighs again, and doesn’t quite look at Dys as he says, “Cal and Tammy are dating.”

“...Oh.”

“He told me on my birthday.” Sol tilts even further forward, until his face is buried in his arms, and with a muffled voice says, “Like, he knocked on the door and she was there and he had his hand on her back. And she’d made me a cake, which was like, nice or whatever, but it was so unbearable just seeing them together and I just -- I just had to sit there and pretend I was happy for them….

“Apparently she asked him out during Glow? Like, after the attack? And I saw them together in the lounge but I didn’t even realize….” There is, horrifyingly, a sniffing noise. “Stupid… stupid Fennec Face. She’s not… she’s not even that cute, and she’s afraid of everything, and I… I….”

Another sniff. Dys is probably the person least equipped to deal with this in the entire colony, not in the least because he heard Cal was dating someone else and his first reaction was gratitude. “...Sorry,” he offers up, finally. “That… that sucks.”

“Yeah,” says Sol, as he burrows deeper into his arms. “I… I just… I really like him. Y’know?”

Quietly, Dys answers, “I know.”

In response Sol just lets out this big shuddering sigh, somehow burrowing even deeper. “Sorry,” he says. “I know it’s stupid. I… Sorry.”

Dys can’t think of anything to say to that, can’t think of a single thing that might make Sol feel a little better. Instead of trying anyways he just sits there like an idiot, keeping half an eye on the planet around them to make sure they don’t get eaten by anything, and next to him Sol doesn’t move for a long, long time.

#i like pining dys can u tell. can u tell #i also like Physical Skills Only Head Empty sol LMFAO #also ill be honest with u guys #the only reason i am posting this one is bc i have a High Comedy sequel but it does require this one being posted first #bracelet scene :) with this sol :) is so funny #guy who has zero reasoning whatsoever #oh side note for ppl who read my shit. this is the same sol that would propose to dys later on in life #guy who is a stupid romantic #anyways. they are stupid. #should i put this in the main tag or not..... im very lukewarm on this LMFAO #again. this is only here bc its Necessary Context for the other hting i Want to post #ehhhh might as well i guess. shrugs. #i was a teenage exocolonist #how do you writing #oh title is from 2023 by blue rain boots #chorus is 'is that the sun i see or am i just bein greedy / gonna fix myself so i'm not so fuckin needy' and lie #the guys voice is soooo nice i love the way he sings it wwwww its good vibes #OK THATS A LOT OF TAGS. as long as the ficlet itself. #anyways. feast my children.

[widgits]

what if i cried and throwed up aka cat gets to take her girls to the riverlands

#my art #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #catelyn tully #catelyn stark #arya stark #sansa stark #the starks #game of thrones #game of thrones fanart #got #a clash of kings #a storm of swords #a feast for crows #a dance with dragons #i just wish we got more of cat and her girls #obvi i am glad she hangs out with her eldest daughter son robb #but i think she just reflects very interesting aspects of the girls #anyways i think shed love to teach the girls games her and lysa played as children that are not really possible in the north #with the difference in weather and whatnot

[m00nchildthings]

Mating press and breeding kink with alucard 👉👈🥺

Hueuhuheuehu >:3c

(Authors note: it’s been so long since i wrote anything i feel like this sucks im sorry 😭anyway CW: BREEDING KINK, ALUCARD HAS BABY FEVER IN THIS ONE Y’ALL)

he's ruthless the way he folds you in half, alabaster hands cuffed into the back of your knees holding them to your heaving chest. usually alucard likes to hold himself as a much more, elegant lover. likes to take you apart piece by piece till your wailing, press his body to yours till melting into each other. but now how he takes you is hard and rough, burrowing thrusts that steal the breath from your lungs with every roll of his hips. 

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t know what exactly came over him, a visit to trevor and sylpha celebrating the recent birth of their daughter ana. the sight of you holding the quiet babe to your bosom while their older son fredric pulled at your skirts begging to be replace his infant sister had tickled something in him. the thought of his, your, own children replacing the kids holding your attention made his cock twitch in his trousers. it wasn’t long before he was hastening the visit gently reminding you of work that needed to be done at his castle. the two of you had barely made it through the doors of your looming home before he pounced you, dragging you away to one of the many rooms you had. clothes were quickly shredded to scraps, too much eagerness to wait to have them off he needed your body under him now.

 he couldn't help himself, already imagining your belly growing with proof of your child, your breasts swelling with milk the closer you got to your due date. he was ravenous grabbing any part of you he could as he wrangled your body into his desired position. your gleaming cunt winked up at him already glistening in arousal at his ministrations. usually he would feast upon you, drag his tongue through your folds till you cried for mercy before slowly sliding into you. but he couldn’t wait, would make it up to you later, he thought as he tapped the just pink head of his cock to your sopping cunt and pressing in.

“a-alucard,” you moaned his name breathlessly, fingers coming to tangle in his blond tresses as a pair of cold lips pressed to your breasts. you’d never seen him this way, never felt him this way. it was if he sought to make the head of his cock kiss your cervix with every thrust, you swore you could feel him in your stomach, grinding up your guts to make room for him.

“i want one, one of us,” he grunted dragging his tongue to your jugular and suckling at your speeding pulse. fingers came between you to rub circles on your clit and you choked at the tingling pleasure running up your spine.

“what-what are you-one want,” you said struggling to string together a coherent sentence as the tightness in your gut pulled close, eyes beginning to cross at the impending orgasm.

“a- baby!” he moaned out the last word, drooling as your climaxing cunt spasmed around him, milking his cock. his hands left the back of knees letting them fall onto his shoulders, his pale claws  ripped into the bedding by your head as he managed to press himself deeper still, ignoring your babbling of feeling to full.

“want a baby with you love,” he grunted golden eyes wild with want “ want a tiny wailing little thing to raise, gonna give you one, as many as you want!”

“a-a baby?,” you warbled only able to repeat from him as he fucked you back into that state of pre-orgasm nearly seconds after the last one. 

“yess, gonna fill you up with me, fill this pretty pussy up till your fat with my kids, till your tits leak milk for them my little incubusss,” his mouth wrapped around your bouncing tit sucking harshly on the pebbled nipple and you screamed, dull nails digging wherever you could reach, deep into the ivory skin pulled taught over the muscles rolling in his back. he pulled away gasping nearly as hard as you were before switching to your other breast and lavishing it with the same treatment.

it didn’t take long for you to cum, not with the way he was thrusting into the gummy catch of your cervix, pale happy trail tickling your clit as he kept you trapped in his mating press. you wailed cunt spasming around his cock once more, crying as you came again far too soon for the pleasure to be anything less than overwhelming. the feel of you clenching pussy was enough to drag him to orgasm as well, thrusting once, twice, before he spilled inside you the warm sensation running up you. 

for a moment you laid there breathless, a tangle of sweaty limbs, with your legs dangling uselessly over his now sticky back. alucard heaved himself off of you, using his dhampir strength to hold you down when you weakly tried to sit up, simply rolling the two of you onto your sides staying inside of you. he kissed the damp skin of your forehead before giving a slow roll of his hips chuckling at your weak mumbles of objection.

“sorry, sorry love,” he sighed massaging tender circles into your waist “just need to make sure it sticks,”

#Alucard Tepes #Alucard #alucard smut #alucard x reader #alucard tepes x reader #Castlevania #castlevania smut #ask #anon #as you can see #i am a little rusty #trying slowly but surely to get into writing again

[gilmore-angel]

unexpected pleasures || A.T x fem!reader

summary ♱ reader has just wed the infamous aemond targaryen, and though she's nervous, she will soon discover there are many pleasurable things to come (tldr reader gets finger fucked good)

warnings/contains ♱ arranged marriage, awkwardness at first, smut obvi, sub!reader dom!aemond, fingering, praise kink!! use of good girl, pretty girl, wife. overall very fluffy!! soft!aemond<3. let me know if I should add anything else!!

authors note ♱ okok this is probably trash but I'm literally forcing myself to write rn<3 lol anyways this is also my first time actually writing for aemond which is crazy bc I've been obsessed with him since like early January💀. if you enjoy please reblog! likes are obviously appreciated but reblogs are the thing that actually help the writer<3 oh and lmk if you want a part two!!

navigation 𔓕 follow and turn on notifications for @baysfics to know when I post my writings

married life isn't so bad after all.

of course, you've only been married for about three hours now, but it's going better than expected, which at this point is all you can hope for.

your new husband, prince aemond, has been quite pleasant thus far. you have only had roughly six full conversations since you were betrothed two months ago, but based off of them he was very polite and well educated.

though you had dreaded the wedding day, everything had gone smoothly. the ceremony itself was a big event, full of lords and ladies you didn't even know the house of, all eager to get on the new princesses good side. and of course there was the kiss you shared with aemond, one that sent an unknown feeling through you, settling at your lower belly. and now, the grand feast to celebrate the union.

it had less people there, only family and the very important houses were allowed to attend. you sat at the table in the middle, sitting in the center along with your husband. on your other side sat your father, mother and siblings, the same went for aemond. your husband stayed mostly silent during the feast, only speaking when spoken to.

your belly slightly ached with nerves for what was coming next; the bedding. thankfully, the queen had insisted upon a private bedding, just as she did for her other children when they wed. the action soothed your nerves a bit, but they still clung to you.

you had been warned by your mother that the bedding was an uncomfortable and painful process for the woman. but she also informed you that it is something all woman must do to please their lord husband and produce heirs.

you felt your heart sink when the king stood up weakly to announce it was time for you and aemond to head to your chambers. you both stood up and gave your goodbyes, your mother giving you a reassuring smile before you left.

there was an awkward silence as you walked with your husband to your chambers, escorted by guards. you glanced at him, only to see him looking straight ahead, blank expression on his handsome face.

once you arrived the guards pushed open the heavy wooden doors. you gave them a small smile in thanks before aemond dismissed them. as the doors closed aemond let out a small shaky sigh, you couldn't tell if it was out of nervousness or dread. you both stood awkwardly, unsure of where to begin. he spoke first, breaking the deafening silence.

"would you like help taking down your hair?" he blurted out. you nodded, giving him a awkward small smile.

"please," you moved past him to sit at the vanity. you began taking out the many odd placed pins and braids in your hair. aemond came up from behind you to start assisting in the process. the feeling of his long fingers in your hair made up for the times he would accidentally tugged too hard trying to take down the hairstyle. you both worked in silence, the only word spoken was his occasional 'sorry's when he would notice you wince.

now that your hair was down, the room was once again filled with an thick silence. eventually you stood up, turning to face him. you sucked in a breath, looking up at him nervously.

"should i..... should I remove my clothes, my prince?"

his eyes widened at the question, but he nodded, "yes, my lady... I can help."

he moved behind you, undoing the laces of the dress with shaky fingers. the gorgeous dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet. you stepped out of the dress, leaving you in a silky shift and small clothes. you felt quite vulnerable as you begun taking your shift off, even more so once it was gone.

aemond let out a shaky breath at the sight of you in nothing but your small clothes. he looks up and down your body, desire filling his eye. he walks closer to you, looking deep into your eyes.

"may I kiss you, my lady?" he asked, his usual cold tone gone, now replaced with a soft, caring one. you nod, eyes wide.

aemond smiled softly before leaning down and kissing your soft lips. this kiss was unlike the other one you both had shared just hours before. this one was out of pure want, not obligation.

you gasp softly against his lips when he deepened the kiss, your hands flying up to his strong shoulders. his hands found home on your hips. he pulled away just enough to whisper against your lips, "is this okay?"

you nod, staring up at him with wide eyes. "yes, my prince, I just... I don't really know how to do this properly."

he smiles at you softly, moving one of his hands to caress your cheek gently.

"that's okay, just copy what I do, okay?"

he leans back in, kissing at a slow pace. his lips are soft and warm against your own. you feel something wet poking at your bottom lip and soon realize it's his tongue. you open your mouth slightly and gasp when he slides his tongue in, exploring where he can reach. the sensation causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips.

he begins pushing you backwards gently until the back of your knees hit the edge of the plush bed behind you, causing you to lay down on it. to your surprise, aemond gets on his knees before you and pulls you down so your legs hang off the bed. leaning up on your elbows you look down at him extremely confused. "my prince... what are you doing?"

he simply smiled and blushed, "let me know if you wish to stop, okay my lady?". his big calloused hands went up and down your thighs, pulling them apart. you laid back, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. his hands eventually found their way to your small clothes.

"may I remove these, my lady?" one hand continued rubbing you thigh gently. you hum and nod. that wasn't good enough apparently and aemond lightly pinched your thigh. "words, wife. I need to hear some words out of those pretty lips."

you blushed deeply, taking a deep breath, "yes, please take them off."

he smiles, murmuring under his breath "good girl". you felt a tingle in your lower belly, growing each time he touched or talked to you.

he carefully slid your small clothes off, throwing them somewhere in the room. he sucked in a big breath at the sight of your bare cunt. you squirmed slightly, his gaze lighting you on fire almost.

"may I touch you, wife?" he spoke softly, a poorly hidden desire behind the words.

you nod but quickly remember what he told you. "yes, you may."

with one hand he softly rubbed your thigh, with the other he rubbed one finger up and down your lips, pushing past them and exploring the wet outside. your back slightly arched at the unknown but not unwelcomed feeling. he moved his finger higher until he found your clit. a high pitched whimper escaped your lips at his soft but achingly good touch.

he looked up at you with a sweet smile. "does that feel nice, wife?". his finger moved in gentle circles, pressing ever so slightly.

a few breathy whimpers and moans slipped out of your mouth. "yes," you breathed, "so so nice..."

he let out a hmm, continuing his movements. he moved his finger up and down, gathering your wetness and then spreading it around your sensitive clit. as he rubbed on your bundle of nerves, his other hand came up, softly pressing against your slit.

"this may feel strange, my lady, but I promise it'll feel so good soon, okay?" he pushed a long thick finger into your previously untouched hole, groaning at how tight you were. your back arched off the bed as a loud moan rang around the room. he slowly started moving it in and out, sending waves of pleasure through your body when he curled his finger upwards. your gummy walls tightened around him, almost as tight as he cock felt in his trousers.

he looked up to see your reaction, smiling when he saw your head thrown back in pleasure. soft whimpers left your mouth as his movements quickened.

"may I add a second finger, sweet girl?" something about the way he said the affectionate name sent chills down your spine as you slightly bucked against his hand.

"hmmph, yes, yes please husband." he smirked as he added a second finger. he pumped them in and out fast, his other hand still focused on your puffy clit.

suddenly a new feeling hit you. like some sort of knot in your belly, ready to explode any second. a panicked expression washed over you at the strange sensation.

"aemond, aemond! something is, fuck, happening!" you cried desperately, clenching the sheets beneath you hard.

"shh, it's okay, it'll feel so good. just let it happen sweet girl." it was too much and too little, it was overwhelming yet you needed more. it hurt but felt so so right.

before you could reply waves and waves of pleasure washed over you, drowning you in the feeling of him. your whole body shook, hips bucking wildly into his hand. creamy white cum drooled onto his fingers and hand. he groaned at the sight and fucked you through your peak.

he eventually slid his hand out and climbed up the bed, hovering over you. he brought his cum covered fingers to you mouth, "open," he commanded softly, sucking in a shaky breath when you wrapped you lips around them. he pulled them out, moving to caress your cheek, "such a good girl."

he began kissing your neck, trailing his hand back down to your thighs. you whimpered sweetly causing him to chuckle.

"oh, sweet wife, we are just getting started."

#aemond Targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #bay writes🌻

[the-desilittle-bird]

AN- Serving you these sweet preferences is my duty... even though it means failing mathematics test, cause I can't pass it anyway 🤣

Requests are always open and well appreciated!

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

HOTD Preferences

Defending Your Honor

Characters- Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Otto Hightower, Corlys Velaryon, Cregan Stark and Criston Cole.

Warnings- Slut-shaming, Curse, Murder (Daemon and Aemond), Fighting and Cutting off... something

Daemon 'Rogue Prince' Targaryen

You were Daemon Targaryen's paramour, with nothing to your name but his love and devotion. A mere dressmaker who somehow charmed the prince.

While your relationship was purely based on emotional supports and the physical attributes followed way later, the nobles didn't share the same thoughts.

Behind your back, you could hear their derogatory comments over you, questioning your relationship with the infamous prince.

"She must have a tight cunt for the prince to keep her so close."

"I am sure she is a witch and has fucked her magic into prince Daemon."

"There is no doubt that she will be ready to fuck and undress herself in front of anyone for money."

While Daemon would hear anything about himself with amusement, hearing things as such for his beloved made his blood boil.

In a feast in the honor of his own nameday, he made sure you were seated next to him with the Royal Family.

The family was welcoming but the courtiers weren't.

And he hears them again.

And goes crazy.

At the abrupt end of the feast, the Noble degrading you and your honor was taken to the Silent Sisters with a separated head or probably something even harsher.

Aemond 'One-Eyed' Targaryen

Aemond loves you a lot.

Everyone loves you, honestly. Except for some who think you are some scheming bitch, which secretly includes Otto.

During a normal session of the court, Aemond hears a member of a vassal house of Lannisters speaking rubbish about you.

Your honor was put to question and he won’t have it that way.

Interrupting the session, he calls the man ahead and when the spotlight is upon that man.

Aemond starts announcing the young lord’s “accusations”. And the whispers start.

But they are abruptly put to stop, by Aemond’s sword cutting off the lord’s head; much in a way Daemon had drove Dark Sister through Vaemond Velaryon.

And followed a long monologue about you and defending your honor and a threat of what shall happen if he is disobeyed.

All while that dead lord’s blood painted his face.

Otto ‘Hand of the King’ Hightower

You are his wife, or maybe courting each other, or betrothed to marry.

Either way, he is protective. Very. Very. Protective.

You are younger. Beautiful. Almost goddess like.

At a feast, you talk to a lord.

And there goes numerous rumours.

While Otto doesn’t believes it, others do.

And then, one day, you admit it. That the rumours were troubling you a lot.

And next, you hear that the man responsible for the rumours could never have children again, had you overjoyed and smirking. Found with the sigil of House Hightower next to him.

That was the very clear message to all.

Corlys ‘Sea Snake’ Velaryon

Corlys is possessive and protective of you, his darling wife.

You were from Dorne, and your Dornish practices aren’t quite far from your heart.

And that includes the flirtatious comments.

Corlys enjoyed that. But the other lords and ladies had a field trip, making rumours and what not.

When they hear them, he is angry and he throws a feast, intending to show what honour these people were talking of.

The feast was all normal except the wine was specifically strong and the servant ladies were all dressed provocatively.

And all of the lords were leering and everything.

Next morning, he organises a breakfast. And gives a loud and clear announcement.

All of it while the lady wives of those men were present and fuming with rage at the humiliation.

In directly, never talk bad about Corlys Velaryon’s wife.

Cregan ‘Wolf of the North’ Stark

You were of South and you arrived in Southern style.

And it made the lords of the North send you leering gazes.

And you were bold to admit it to Cregan who softly replied with:

“I apologise on their behalf, my lady. I shall see to it that it is taken care of.”

It was. But for only a few weeks.

And then came the feast before your wedding to him.

And the lords were drunk and again dishonouring sentences were exchanged.

The smile on your face was long gone and your jaw sat in a gesture of displeasure.

And it seemed to do something to Cregan. For one second, his direwolf was in front of the table; the other, that drunken lord was on the floor with the direwolf growling at his face.

“Since this day ahead, no one shall dare to dishonour my wife, your lady. Or, you shall not like what shall happen.”

And the smile on your face is sweet as you looked at your betrothed.

Criston ‘Kingmaker’ Cole

You were only a friend of his at that time.

And a Dornish lady.

A beautiful lady who was close to a member of King’s Guard.

And boom! There are rumours.

Penting up everything in his chest, Criston blasted when he heard a comment about you in the training grounds.

He challenged that knight or lord to a combat fight.

That fight ended with the lord being beaten to near death while Criston’s fists were bloodied.

You were told way later that something like that happened.

And while everyone were rather angry at his action, you were very very proud.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon preferences #daemon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #otto hightower x reader #corlys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x reader #criston cole x reader #daemon targeryan #aemond targaryen #otto hightower #corlys velaryon #cregan stark #criston cole

[sunnytarg]

How would Yandere!Aegon I, Aemond, Daemon and Margor react to a Stark!Reader who refused to marry them on religious grounds? (As in she doesn’t want to marry and have children with someone that doesn’t worship the Old Gods)

I’m still having a hard time writing Daemon and I have no idea if anyone can tell through my writing. Anyways, enjoy!

TW: Somnophilia, dubcon, kidnapping(?), and stalking.

Aegon I (The Conqueror)

Aegon was a persistent man. When he wanted something he would eventually get it even if it took him a while.

None were surprised when after the Lord of Winterfell finally bent the knee to him, Aegon soon set his eyes on conquering another part of the North. The Lord of Winterfell’s sister. Unlike most that had come before her, she was not bending over backward to fulfill his every want nor was she cold and distant. She was dismissive, as though he didn’t have a dragon perched outside the walls of the cold castle. The more she acted as if he was not there, the more attention he paid to her.

He soon learned she was unwed and that every day she would take a stroll out to a tree that he had been told was where they worshipped the Old Gods. While his sister-wives were entertained by the feasts the northerners put together in their honor, Aegon found himself following Lady Stark out into the forest. He tried his best not to be seen. He watched as she knelt in front of the tree’s face for several minutes before getting up to leave. He didn’t follow her back that night. He only stayed for a few moments longer and watched the tree. He knew nothing about the Old Gods and why the northerners worshipped them. Truthfully, he didn’t care enough to know. He couldn’t see why it would be so important to him.

The next morning as Visenya and Rhaenys still slumbered, as well as most of the castle, Aegon went to the Lord of Winterfell. With the Lady barely giving him the time of day, he knew he wouldn’t get the answer he wanted so he decided to ask her brother for her hand in marriage. The man agreed quickly, stating that his sister only needed to agree, and once she did they would be wed.

Aegon had not expected an immediate yes but he hadn’t expected the Lady to say no so quickly and with so little thought. She refused to marry him due to her Gods. The Gods he did not worship. She stated that she could not marry nor bare children for a man who did not understand her Gods or the way of her people. Aegon had suggested that a Weirwood tree be brought to King’s Landing for her to which she only laughed, claiming he clearly understood nothing of what it represented. With a forced smile, he nodded and left the Lady to herself.

That night he had asked his dear sister-wife Rhaenys to find a Weirwood tree and place it in King’s Landing. She left without question and when Visenya raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an answer he gave none.

He went to the Lord of Winterfell again who patted Aegon on the shoulder and pitied him for the rejection. Aegon had only to remind the Lord of the two dragons that stood outside his gates and what had happened to his previous enemies when they went against him. It was a threat and the Lord could see that. It was something Aegon appreciated because he didn’t care to dance around this for much longer.

The next morning, Visenya made sure that their things were packed and atop their dragons. Along with Lady Stark’s belongings. When the Lady herself was brought into the room in which Aegon stood with her brother, the look of boredom that was present on her face every time she saw Aegon was wiped away with a look of worry. Aegon stood back as her brother explained to her that she would not be wed to Aegon, as she wished, but she would be going to King’s Landing with him. When a look of confusion appeared on her beautiful face Aegon smiled and took her hands and told her that she would live with him as his mistress. She would not need to bare him any children and a Weirwood tree had been brought to her new home for her.

It may not have been what he wanted initially but perhaps after years as his mistress and years without a child of her own, Aegon could only hope that the love he showed her would be enough for her to finally agree to wed him but for now, he could settle for this.

Maegor

When it is whispered that the Stark family might join his nephew in rebelling against his claim to the throne, Maegor himself goes to Winterfell to sort things out with the Lord of Winterfell. When he first arrived, though, it was not the Lord that caught his eye but one of his daughters. She was beautiful, Maegor noted, but that was not what drew him to her. There was a fire in her eyes that he had truly ever seen in dragons when she looked at him.

That night, as he was talking to the Lord of Winterfell, he brought up his daughter. He claimed she was a Snow, a bastard, but he had loved her mother very much and had agreed to raise her alongside his sons. Maegor seeing the opportunity had suggested that if the Lord held no objections to Maegor marrying her, he would simply forget about the talks of the Starks rebelling. The Lord quickly agreed, knowing how Maegor handled his enemies and he wasn’t going to disagree with the man whilst his dragon, the same dragon that frightened his father enough to bend the knee, was outside the castle walls. Despite his agreeing to give his daughter's hand to Maegor, he warned the king of how devoted his daughter was to the Old Gods. Maegor simply laughed and said that it could be dealt with.

The next morning, as they were breaking their fast, Lord Stark announced the union that would be had between their House and House Targaryen. When his daughter heard this news she immediately protested but it didn’t matter. Maegor had already decided she was to be his wife so under his command he had his men take her to her rooms and have her locked in there. She was only to be let out that night when they were to be married. Lord Stark said nothing as the guards took away his daughter, who only spat in Maegor’s direction before she was out of view. When everyone at the table was settled again, Maegor smirked and said to no one in particular, “I think I will enjoy this marriage.”

When night fell he stood before the Weirwood tree and awaits his bride. When she was walked down to Maegor by her father, her beautiful dress could not hide the chains Maegor had requested be placed on her. She glared at him the entire ceremony and after she said her vows, she declared that this was a mockery of The Old Gods. Maegor refused to acknowledge her as the ceremony continued and when it ended he brought her to the chambers he was staying in by himself, although, he refused to remove the chains. She would learn that despite his name, he could treat the things he wanted well as he believed he did when he had their wedding ceremony before her precious Weirwood tree.

Daemon

Daemon had asked the sister of Lord Stark to marry him on several occasions. The first time in his youth and the most recently after his first wife had died. He made no secret his love for the Stark woman. Proclaiming she was his to anyone that had ears. She was not his, of course, as she would remind people. She never would be. She could never marry anyone who did not understand and worship the Old Gods. She would not compromise on this it infuriated Daemon because he was no king and his brother had refused to make the match on the grounds that the Lady, herself refused.

So, Daemon watched her. He was lucky enough that she lived in King’s Landing as one of the queen’s lady-in-waiting. When many thought he snuck down to the city and the depravity below them, he only snuck through the hidden passageways in the castle to find Lady Stark in her chambers. She mostly read or slept and when he saw her leave her room he would enter it. Searching for things that smelt like her. Once, he found her nightgowns and decided to take them all. Knowing that until she could have more purchased for herself she would have to sleep naked. It was something he enjoyed watching immensely. He didn’t know if she knew that he was behind the stolen clothes or if he watched her every step but even if she did, he would not stop.

Eventually, though, as most Ladies-in-waiting do, she got married. It was to a man who belonged to a Northern House a house no one could really remember. He did pray to The Old Gods, though, and apparently, that was enough for the woman he had so longed to marry to agree to be another man’s wife. Luckily, because he was not the Lord of his House the Queen could request that they stay in King’s Landing.

Daemon was glad that his love wasn’t going to be taken away from him but he couldn’t help but roll his eyes and glare daggers into the ungrateful man that his Lady now called her husband. At the feast to celebrate such a joyous event, Daemon made sure to sneak out when the newly married couple decided to take their leave for the night. He hide in his usual spot and watched as his Lady undressed for her new husband and laid down on the bed with her legs open for him. Daemon pulled out his own hard cock at the sight of her naked form. Her breasts her soft and he would give anything to taste her cunt. Her new husband didn’t even think to have her on his tongue, he only climbed on the bed and thrust his cock into her.

Daemon watched as her tits bounced with every thrust and pumped his own cock harder when she moaned. Her own husband had finished before she had and rolled off of her and promptly fell asleep. Daemon bit the inside of his cheek to not growl at the thought. How could a man have this beautiful northern lady underneath him and not have her cum with pleasure? He stayed long enough for her to fall asleep and he debated with himself for a few seconds on if he should enter the room.

Her husband had drunk so much wine, Daemon doubted that a wild horse running about their chambers would wake him. His lady had also had a fair amount to drink, especially after her husband had fallen asleep. So after a moment of rationalizing to himself, Daemon snuck into the chambers for the first time that she was also in there as well. He walked over to her side of the bed with his cock still out. He knew simply jerking off to her would no longer simply suffice. So he positioned himself on the bed carefully, so as not to jostle her husband or wake her, and slipped his hard cock into her. Her poor cunt was still wet and after a few slow and deep thrusts, he could tell it was just begging to be pleased.

He leaned down and latched his mouth onto one of her soft tits to muffle his moans as he continued to thrust into her. He brought one hand to her weeping cunt and rubbed at her clit. She clenched around his cock which made him buck harder into her. She moaned in her sleep but did not wake and when Daemon was sure she wouldn’t wake he continued until he felt her clenching again and soaking his cock with her creamy cum. When he felt her release he quickened his own thrusts and finally spilled his seed in her. When he pulled away he stood and looked down at his Lady. Her cunt was a mess of her own cream as well as her husband’s and Daemon’s seed. He snuck out of the chambers the same way he came in and told himself he would find another opportunity to taste her on his tongue.

Nearly nine moons after her wedding she gave birth to a son and when Daemon finally saw him he smiled in triumph. The babe had patchy white hair on the top of his head and large lilac eyes. Despite her marrying another man, Daemon had still managed to make it so they were bonded through blood.

Aemond

When Aemond is sent out to all of the great Houses of Westeros to gain the support of his brother he wasn’t expecting his attention to be grabbed by a widowed Stark. While the Lord would deliberate and talk to his counselors, Aemond would find himself sitting with the Lady and talking. He learned of how her husband was a Stark and how he died of a fever a little less than a year ago. When Aemond offered her his sympathies she only smiled sadly and shook her head saying, “I prayed to The Old Gods, and they saw it right to take him. Who am I to argue with that?”

After their talks, Aemond would find the library in Winterfell and read about The Old Gods. They clearly meant quite a bit to this widow. When he searched out a maester who resided in Winterfell and believed in The Old Gods, he told Aemond that the widow he had his eye on would never marry him nor bare his children because he did not worship The Old Gods. Aemond refused to believe the old man and on his second week in Winterfell, he went to his dear widow and asked for her hand. She smiled sadly at him and declined. Claiming that she had grown to care for Aemond and that despite her love for The Old Gods she would never want him to pretend to believe in something he truly didn’t. She kissed him on the cheek in parting and left.

Aemond didn’t know what to do with himself. He was certain he loved the sad woman despite barely knowing her. He wouldn’t force her to marry him and she was right, as fascinating as The Old Gods seemed, he didn’t believe in them. When he realized that his affection for her couldn’t go on any longer he drowned himself in ale with a rather burly northerner.

The northern man took pity on Aemond and brought him to the only brothel in Winterfell, there Aemond found a woman who looked like his widow from behind. He spent the entire night with her and when he married her the next day he was still slightly drunk because that was the only way he could look at her face and see the woman he truly wanted. By the time he left Winterfell, he did not have the North’s allegiance to the new king nor the widow he had coveted but a new wife who when he bedded her he would moan the name of another.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut #aemond targaryen #maegor targaryen #aegon i targaryen #aegon the conqueror #Aegon the conqueror x reader #Aegon the conqueror x oc #maegor targaryen x reader #maegor the cruel #Maegor Targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon Targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #yandere!hotd

[chaosfae-writes]

𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

premise: the lioness gnaws on her favored maiden.

pairing: yandere!cersei lannister x poc!reader

warnings: abuse of power, gender identity issues (slight, but this is cersei), wlw, dead dove smut.

ao3

a/n: although I love show cersei, she was watered down a bit. I wanted to see more of her delulu side, and exploration of her gender issues. Sansa Stark cameo! Sansa is just a baby that needs protecting! <3 anyways, enjoy! <3 do not repost my works!

Cersei Lannister doesn’t have companions.

An unruly child grew into a woman with a crude tongue. Where she lacks empathy with a blackened heart, she makes up for her beauty and charm—- that only extends so far.

Golden locks, and fair skin—- with a temper of a lion. Deludes herself that she has been deprived of her inheritance to Casterly Rock, and is the true queen majesty of all seven kingdoms.

Everything belongs to her.

Her kingdom, her brother, her children —- even you.

A possessive creature. Her love only extends to what she craves, and what she sees in herself. And whenever she senses a threat upon her possessions, that anyone could snatch away her toys —- the lioness becomes irate.

A small council, and a small flock of handmaidens. Only a handful of maids are entrusted in the queen’s space, but only one to bear witness the queen at her rawest.

You are punished by her unsought favor.

To clean her, to dress her, a vessel for her to unburden herself on you. Mistakenly you offered sympathies as a woman one day —- perhaps, too kindly.

Prior, you were just a handmaiden blending in within the palace.

The late king had struck Cersei, you catered to her. Cleaning her split lip, all you spoke was that a queen should be respected, no matter what she has uttered.

All you did was to perform your duty as the queen’s servant … no ill will. Perhaps it’s your shyness, or your taught obedience that caught Cersei’s meticulous eye.

Eventually, she demanded more of you. Requesting your presence for everything, and eventually more demanding—- more touchy.

Dressing you in her house’s colors—- gold and deep red. Adorning you with luxurious fabrics, and discreetly pinning a lion brotchee upon your shoulder. It brought a wave of embarrassment, for such clothing is above your station.

Showering you with such gifts as a king does so to his paramour. It became abhorrent at times to nearby eyes—- more than once, you caught her father’s cold glare.

Conversing with you—- or rather at you, rambling on about her fits of rage upon her father’s lack of respect, how she isn’t respected as queen, how the small folk should be kissing her feet—- or how her little brother should’ve died at the birthing bed.

Delusions of greed and arrogance woven with the silk of self-wallowing, and pity.

Always touching.

Grazing your skin by the fingertips, her breath upon the slope of your neck, gripping your mound tightly as if she possesses any ownership. Sending Bernadette —- against the maid’s growing irate —- to fetch for you almost every fortnight.

To the point where you don’t even sleep in your own chambers anymore.

-

The traitorous wolf is dead.

Long love the youthful stag.

A feast, a celebration held by the newly crowned king. As he cheers over the death of one of the noblest men to live. A cruel boy who immulates his mother’s strife. A feast of dancing, and platters of luxurious food, merry music and jesters.

Seated beside Cersei, as well as her other maidens Bernadette and Senelle. Carefully, your eyes float a peek at the little dove seated beside Joffrey. Sansa is now a shell of the young girl she once was. Pity dwells within you, a somber child, who’s eyes never leave her lap.

You were once that child, once hopeful, only for life to beat you as if you were nothing. Life doesn’t spare the young, age has no limits.

You’re picking at the fruits and meats on your plate, rather bored at the royal nonsense. Gossip among ladies, and redundant chatter of politics among the lords —- it doesn’t pertain to you.

Never has, never will.

As a young girl, it bothered you. How unfair it was that the town folks suffer, as the noble float above the clouds with fine clothing, unending platters of food, and spoiled beyond their dreams.

Now, it doesn’t matter. The bitterness doesn’t matter. Grief to spite, to then an achromatic sense of life. You learned that you are no different than these flocks —- we all are born, then we die all the same, buried in the same soil we go.

But fantasies of escaping to the East, to the land of your ancestors —- to start anew keeps you hopeful. Meet someone, have a babe or two. Live on a farm fruitful of crops.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t sense a presence looming nearby, ever so watching, gawking at its prey.

“May I have this dance?” A voice soaked in sultry warmth, beckoning and confident. Startling you to jump just a bit, turning over your shoulder, standing above you, is Jaime Lannister. Gold yellow hair, smooth and silky, and a confident smirk to match.

“Lord Commander.” You speak in a gasp, bowing your head respectfully. Jaime’s smile twitches, growing wider—- Lord Commander —- not many address him as such. It’s always Kingslayer , never an ounce to respect.

“May I have the pleasure of a dance?” Jaime’s tone is more smoother, his canines flashing as if he’s ready to bite.

Cersei’s eyes narrow, “Jaime, let her be.” She tries to keep her voice low. Jaime scuffs playfully, “ And why? All these squawking hens must be such a bore.” He turns to you with a boyish grin, making you laugh softly.

All it does is make Cersei more annoyed. She has been upset all evening—- rather all day. Cersei found you earlier in the morning tending to Sansa. The little girl was bruised and broken by the mongrel of Cersei’s beastly son.

Tending to Sansa felt wholesome, it filled a void inside you. Reminded you of how it felt to be a mother again.

It irritated something in Cersei, to see you so kind to another.

“Thank you, Ser,” You cautiously say, you can feel Cersei’s tension. Doe eyes flutter back to Jaime, “But there are more gracious ladies who are more suited for your hand.”

Jaime tsks at your rejection. “ Nonsense. These birds are not to my taste.” He out-stretches his hand, not taking no for an answer.

Hesitantly, you take his hand, his fingers curl around, no space for escape. Jaime guides you by the feet, feeling the heat of anxiety flood your flesh, as if you felt the thousands of gazes in your direction.

But—- the daggers lodging themselves in your back were from a pair of greens.

A clunky sway between four feet, it’s quite difficult to catch up to Jaime’s step. Unaware at first to steady yourself; Jaime takes this to his advantage, slithering his palm to the nape of your tailbone, luring you into him.

Muttering low, “Follow my lead.” Jaime whispers. Slowing his footfalls, you follow his pace. Clenching your jaw, rather upsetting to be in this position, in the hands of a noble —— in such a vulnerable display.

“I am afraid I won’t be much of a dancer,” Your eyes glued to your feet, a little flumpily. “I haven’t had lessons.” Not daring to glance upward at his intense eyes.

“And weren’t taught lessons on manners.” Jaime jests, earning your head to snap up swiftly, now eye to eye, with a frightened stare of a doe. “Have I offended you, Ser?” Your eyes wearily gaze down.

Jaime chuckles, “There it is again,” his finger curls under your chin, making you look at him in the eye. “Most of the dance, you have not addressed me with so much as a glance.”

You hum, eyes downcasted to the flooring. “My apologies, I am accustomed to not stare too long at the noble.” Swapping harshly, your throat clenching a little.

“Mousey little creature, you are.”

You breathe a titter, bowing your head still, “The bored lion plays with the mouse.” Shyly staring at your feet, careful not to step on his toes.

“Bored isn’t the word.” Jaime whispers, tilts his head closer, attempting to catch your eyes. He leans in your space, you can feel his warmth beat against your face. His nose is just inches from yours.

“Merely curious.” Jaime teases. “My sister has had many maidens, but never any has been beautiful.” He has always snuck glances.

Your eyes slowly gaze up, fully taking in his golden hue.

A natural skin of rich brown —- not many folk in the West possess such color, he can tell you are not of Andal birth. Your flesh shines as sun brown, and curly tresses brushed back to a gold thin lined headdress.

You hum low, not intrigued in his antics, your mind is too preoccupied by another twin —- one who is more meaner.

“You hide yourself in plain cloth, dare to deprive a man?” He chuckles, but his eyes are heavy with need. A simple dress of royal blue—- not the colors of the house you serve, it doesn’t shape your bodice, nor do you seek for it to.

“There is nothing beneath to be desired.” You snip softly. A ripple of fear shivers your flesh, sneaking glances over Jaime’s shoulders. Barely a glimpse at the royal table, a flash of angry green eyes burns you.

“I beg to differ.” His voice pulls you back, eye to eye now. Jaime swirls your bodice around, his open palm tight on your tailbone. Sending a shiver upon the curve of your spine, never been touched by a man.

“My sister has kept you all to herself, I’m envious.” Jaime holds you to his chest, heavy breathing collides. “You tend to her hand and foot—- is there any way you can tend to my needs?” A smirk curls on Jaime’s mouth, ready to sink his teeth.

“When I am cold in my grave.”

“A knight and a handmaiden,” Jaime’s shrugs his head, “A sight all too common.” Gesturing to this as it could be a casual affair. He enjoys your bite, so used to the familiarity of women throwing themselves at him, such easy prey to play with, but he rejects them all.

This is new, a fun game.

You admittedly enjoy his touch, Jaime is breath-taking. Golden honey hair, a strong beautiful sculpted nose, and beautiful green hues.

“I must behold my reputation.” You said in a hush, “I am a lady in your sister’s circle, it would be improper to entertain her brother—- a Lord Commander no less.” You hum low, a small twitch of a smile.

Before Jaime could speak, you catch a glimpse of an ornery glare from a distance, burning with fury. The boldness fades on your lips, but confidence still lingers.

“Doesn’t your oath forbid you of any intimacy?” You jest with him, but your mind is still wondering for Cersei, as well as making sure your feet are coordinated.

You’re nearly breathless, and frightened.

Jaime feigns shock. “My oath won’t be burdened nor broken, if it is kept a secret.” He twirls you again among the sea of dancing lords and ladies. “Secrets can be delicious.” He whispers a wisp into the shell of your ear.

“Even poison can be enticing.” You tilted your chin at him, Jaime smiles, his hands circle your waist even closer to himself. His thumb stroking against your waist.

The environment blurs for a moment, it feels nice. To be treated with kindness, and gracious banter. To not be touched so harshly. But simultaneously, it’s all too much. As if a foreigner in unknown land, touch such as this is—- new.

“How could anyone deny themselves pleasure? Even if it’s —- dangerous?”

You gasp, mouth agape, for once, you didn’t have a snip to his flirtations. Jaime hums a chuckle, “Why, has the mouse lost her tongue?”

“I—”

“The Queen is ready to retire for the evening.” Bernadette’s voice floats behind you, and you thank the Gods above for her —- for just a moment. To be freed from this burning grasp.

“A thousand apologies, Ser. I must tend to—”

“My sister… yes. ” There is a mirth to his tone, mischievous. His eyes stare as if he knows something, toying with it his tongue.

“Yes…” You nod with a timid smile. You bow your head to him, grabbing the skirt of your dress, “I am grateful for the honor of a dance, Commander.” Jaime’s mouth is agape, and genuinely it spreads to a wanton smile.

“ Jaime.”

You gasp a breath, eyes taken back. Jaime grabs your hand into his, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

“Please call me Jaime.” His eyes are pleading, almost glassy. You blink, a simper of appreciation. A royal has never been so amiable with you. Always ‘my lord’ this, and ‘my lady’ that.

“Thank you, Jaime.” You say, a human sensation of appreciation is twinkling like feathers in your belly. It feels nice.

A cough emits behind you. You close your eyes —- it’s time. Lashes blink back, “I must go.” Feet backpedals, hands slowly slip from the warmth of his fingers.

“Yes, you must go.” Jaime says coyly.

Oval nails slip back to your stitching, you twirl around to walk behind Bernadette. Duckling footfalls in line, as Bernadette walks with a hast stride, slinking through the dancing bodies.

“Our majesty is very impatient.” Bernadette’s voice is snarky, as if she chastises a child.

When has she ever not been?

All you can do is strum in agreement.

As you both reach the king’s high table, you catch Cersei’s eyes. Envy as green as her hues, mouth wrinkled. Immediately she stands from her chair, bidding her son a good evening —- all he does is give her a wave and a cantankerous smile, too busy boasting with low lords.

You immediately follow behind Cersei’s trail, biting your tongue, the edge of your jaw clenching in unbridled anger.

Bernadette is not far behind, trying to level at Cersei’s shoulders, but Cersei snappily dismisses her with a flick of her wrist.

Bernadette is sent away to her own rooms, much to her dismay.

-

The lioness is prowling.

Foaming at the maw.

Cersei walked with a firm gait. Her hands clasped over each other, her lips twitching; her brocade fabric sways against the flooring. Her brother —- her lover, and her maiden in such a display.

The walk back to her chambers is eerily quiet. Anxiously your fingers fiddle with your rings, as your belly is churning as slippery eels.

Hastily, you grasp the large oak brown door handles, opening it wide for her—- hopefully pleasantries can ease the tension.

Without a look at you, Cersei immediately walks into her chambers. Harsh fingers tugs at her dress collar, Cersei’s back to you. Routine is often instructed to undress her, but she isn’t thrilled to be touched yet.

“Prepare my bath.” She demands, without even looking at you. “Yes, your Majesty.” You speak in a strain. Rolling your sleeves up to the joints of your elbows.

In the washroom, you fill the tub with warm water that has been on flame for awhile. Carefully, you begin to pour in scented oils, put her bar of soaps on the dish tray, and a rag over your forearm.

Cersei strides to the room, only in a crimson robe, with golden threads. Her face is cold, frozen in disgust.

Ungraciously Cersei drops her robe, it glides down her arms. She steps out of the bundle of fabric, and into the steamy bath. The routine commences—- you have it ingrained on what she likes.

As you kneel, Cersei untangles your headdress uncouthly, letting it fling to the floor, your hair flows down your shoulders. You resume your duty, as if nothing happened.

You unclasp her hair from the gold clips, softly caressing her skull. Untangling her swirls, and unclipping her jewelry. Tenderly, you knead the nape of her neck, to the slope of her throat, to her collarbones.

Cersei moans, closes her eyes in content, but she won’t be manipulated by your touch.

Her eyes flicker open.

“Bring me wine.” Curt and sharp. A dismissive wave of her hand. You stand up from your knees, grabbing the wine jug, pouring the dry sweet Arbor wine into her cuppee.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Cersei asks, if possible, the heat of her jealousy can boil the bath. Hesitant, you cautiously say, “Yes, the Lord Commander is a gracious dancer.” You offer her the goblet.

“Formalities,” Cersei chuckles, her head bobs tipsily, “ Ser… Lord… ” Her laugh dies, with a frown, “—with how you were fondling him, might as well refer to him by his name.” Her voice is sharp. She snatches the cuppee from your hand.

“I wouldn’t dare to speak to him so formally.” You say, sinking into yourself more and more. You resume cleaning her, trying to get through the night.

“Is it men you seek for?” Cersei asks, twisting the cuppee between her fingertips. You shake your head, “No, your grace.”

“No?” Cersei’s voice rises in pitch, almost mockingly.

“I do not seek companionship.” You peek through your lashes, trying to keep your composure. As a fawn caught by the hands of a hunter.

A thread snaps in Cersei’s mind at those words.

“If I bore a cock, perhaps you would be enticed.” Cersei hissed, her milky fingers clenching her gold cuppee. Her voice slithers into an incoherent mumble, ‘If I was born a son, we would be wedded.’

Her drunken vulnerability turns sour once more.

An empty malicious thought plagues Cersei.

“The Mountain has a taste for sweet gentle creatures—-” Cersei whispers, fiddling with your sleeve. “He would eat you alive.” An airy laugh escapes her, head reclines. She’s rambling poison, trying to hurt you, as if you have pained her in return.

“Perhaps then your whorish behavior would then be satisfied.” Cersei growls into her drink.

You remain mute, not daring to speak in your defense. It’s better fitted to let her ramble in her delusions. Cersei’s eyes spark again, feline eyes stare at you.

“Remember what he did to our late Princess Elia Martell? That was just sport for him.” Her face morphed to a devilish grin, hazy eyes sharply baring into your wet doe ones. The threat is clear, but you don’t catch the bait.

“All of the realm recalls the tragedy.”

Cersei’s face falls a bit, her smile morphs to a frown, her eyes narrow spitefully. She hoists her slender leg up, splashing her bath water everywhere, even drizzling your fabric, and face; earning a flinch. Your eyes scrunches shut, from the swash.

“Scrub.”

Gently you resume washing Cersei. The wash cloth soaps her skin, avoiding her lower regions, not daring to touch her —- it will only spark her. You save that task for last.

Cersei gulped down her wine, the warm twang floods her blood, and her mean strike.

Cersei calms for a moment, her eyes staring yards away. Finally, her body is cleaned, and you cautiously dove your hand into the soapy water, scrubbing her mound. You can feel her pubic hair through the rag. Out of instinct, Cersei bucks her hips against your palm.

Cersei moans happily.

“My brother desires you.” Cersei slurs, just a little. Staring into her wine, her fingernail scraping against the gold engraving. She speaks in a manner as if she talks to herself. You ignore her, swallowing harshly. Cersei is bristling, you prepare yourself —- for the outburst.

Her wet hand reaches for your hair, waves of midnight brown. Her fingers fiddle with the tresses, coiling into a makeshift fist.

“Pretty little thing…” Cersei deadpans, her pink mouth purses. She tugs downward, causing you to wince. And without any hesitation, her back hand swacks your cheek, sending you to crash into the flooring.

That was Cersei at her gentlest.

Cersei stands from her tub, her tuft of hair in view, nose down at your pitiful state. Crumpled onto the floor, cheek swelling, wet moon eyes —- fragile and broken, just how Cersei likes it.

“My husband wasn’t so kind.” Cersei spits, “He didn’t grant me such mercy.” Cersei’s bare foot grazes against your belly, slightly pushing. Towering over you as if you were a mere worm.

The late king was a brute, harshly thrusting his drunken rage onto Cersei. His swollen belly crushed her, and to add salt to the wound, after violating her body, he would whisper Lyanna in her ear.

“Undress.” Cersei seethes.

Shakily, you untie your dress, one shoulder at a time. “If you dare lay with Jaime—- or with any man, I will cut that tongue out of your little head.” Cersei clicks her tongue, “But oh, that tongue of yours is too delicious. It would be a waste.”

You slip out of your dress, with only a simple white cotton undergarment. Cersei snags your cloth, tearing it to thin ripped shreds, ‘as so a man would’ , Cersei thinks.

Cersei kicks the cotton against the floor by her foot, as you stand shivering under her watchful gaze.

“Kneel.”

As you kneel onto the chilled flooring, Cersei waltz to the bedding, leaning onto her spine, her legs spreading as if she’s presenting a feast.

Crawling on all fours as a dog, head bowing, nose flaring to maintain a steady pace of breath. Closer and closer now, you can feel the heat from her thighs, a natural essence emits from her mound, damp and fresh with herbal water.

Cersei’s fingers sought through your hair, fondling your scalp; guiding you further into her.

Your nose goes against her pelvic bone, her blonde tuft of hair envelopes your entire mouth, tickling your skin. Cersei’s fingers interwoven with your curls, tugging against your scalp sharply now, tight at the roots.

You catch yourself voluntarily suckingly her clit into the cave of your mouth. Sloppily nibbling and licking her folds.

Suckling her mound, mouth latched onto her as if savoring a succulent fruit. Your nose pinned against her hair, all that can be heard is the echo of your tongue lapping. Cersei’s grip is woven tight, it feels like pricking needles against your skull.

Cersei hisses through her teeth, legs spreading wider, hips thrusting against your mouth. Completely at her mercy, her palms holding your head, struggling to breathe, as her cunt is spilt and soppy against your mouth.

Hair not as dark as Robert’s but thick as his once was in his youth, it stirs something in Cersei. As a pot boiling at the rim, she snaps.

“If I was born a son,” Cersei shouts, nearly at her peak, thrashing you off of her. Wiping your mouth by the back of your hand, it glistens with Cersei’s slick.

“Perhaps then, I would have my way with you, not in such a secret!” How dare Jaime try to sway you in his bed, although Cersei warms it herself.

“Fuck you on the hill of Casterly Rock!”

Cersei isn’t always this cruel. Sometimes, she can be kind, and gracious —- as much as she can. Find the humor and joys in her privileged life. When she isn’t drunk, when she can hold a conversation—- she is tolerable.

That Cersei is ‘sweet’ , and in those sparse moments, you can forget that you are merely a servant, and she is the Queen.

“On the bed.” Barking orders as if she is a commander on the battlefield. As you crawl onto the mattress on all fours, Cersei serves herself a handful of your ass, fingers digging.

A pregnant pause.

“Do you desire my brother?” Do you desire a man?

Your face wrinkles in a silent sob, shaking your head, “No, your grace.” Bowing your head down in-between your arms.

“Do you not find him attractive?” Cersei goads, her finger tracing between your cheeks. “No—” a whack against your backside, causing you to wince in pain.

“As children, many couldn’t tell Jaime and I apart.” Cersei says, as she relishes in the blooming heat of your ass. “We mirror each other in so many ways.”

Even both acquire the same appetites.

“You insult him, you insult me.”

“What do you most yearn for in this life?” Cersei asks, tracing your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“I have no ambitions.” You tiredly say. Sucking in your lips into your mouth, tasting your tears. Blindly blinking with damp lashes. Cersei ignores it, humming low in her throat.

“Every little girl has dreams,” Cersei goades, hovering over your spine, her mouth edging near the shell of your ear. In a warm whisper, “to seek for a prince to whisk them away. Surely I did. ” Her pink tongue slithers, and kitten licks your ear, the warmth jolting a shiver to your mound.

Cersei’s mouth trails down from your cheek, to the slope of your neck, leaving behind open kisses. Scraping the skin of your shoulder with her teeth, nipping here and there —- as if an animalistic urge to tear you apart has overtaken her.

“To be Lady of Casterly Rock, is that what you want?” Cersei says, sitting up again, smacking your back, she hums at your whence.

“I do not yearn for a title,” You wail, speaking through choked tears. “I serve only you.” Wrinkling the satin sheets, bunched between your fingers. Strands of hair cling to your tear stained cheeks.

Cersei plunges her fingers into your cunt, making you cry out. “Does this cunt serve me as well?” Tight walls sucking her fingers in, velvety cave explored.

Intrusive thoughts plague her mind. Images of Jaime crawling and ravishing your body; kissing, biting, and licking. It drives her mad—- with lust. She yearns for it to be three of you.

He is hers, and you are hers.

But what if you two convalude with each other? To leave her behind? To have a life together? An intimacy she has no space to shoulder herself in.

“You plot against me—” Cersei yells, her chin wobbles. Any inkling of logical reason is dwindling now. “Where do you go at night?” She interrogates, nose flaring.

“You slip through the walls, parade yourself for the guards?” She spoke through the cage of her teeth.

“I do not conspire against you, Cersei.” You shrivel, trying to inch further into the bed. “I do not want a life as such with Jaime, I desire to stay here …” you swallow a sob, “in the Red Keep with you.”

That is not enough.

You are Robert, and she wants to hurt you—- sex is electric, or it can be painful. She will fuck you as Robert —- this is what men do. Powerful men take what they want, this is what her father would do —- take, take, take, take ! Power, fear! Take all that she desires, take what she loves—

Love?

Affection isn’t a foreign concept to Cersei, but it isn’t something she gives freely. Only threads of herself can feel her love.

Cersei exhales deeply, trying to organize her thoughts.

Her eyes open blankly, one closes lazily after the other.

“I can see it now,” Her voice is hushed. “A Lannister wedding. Lavish as it can be. Gold it shall be.” Cersei’s head glances down, with an unhinged smile.

“I take Jaime as my husband, and you as my paramour.” Her head is swimming, the wine has sunk her even deeper. “Or perhaps, you as my bride. Oh —- how my father would throw a fit.” Cersei slurs and chuckles as a child.

“If only I was a man,” Cersei leans her body down, engulfing your body into hers. “We would live here, as a man would not be questioned on how many mistresses he possesses.” Her slender fingers creepily slip near your ass.

Guiding the slope of your under thigh between her legs, resting her cunt on your kneecap. The soft tuft of blond hair tickles your bare skin, grinding herself.

Soft wet slick sounds fill your ears, as her fingers grip and tug on the meat of your ass. Her hips are thrashing a bit more harsher now.

Her milky hands slither up the hill of your navel, cupping the weight of your under breast; twirling your brown nipple between her fingertips, twisting.

You hiss at the sting, as she relishes in your distress. Cersei bows her head into your chest, swallowing your breast into her mouth. Her tongue lapping at your nipple, her ivories nibbling and tugging harshly against the skin.

Violently suckling your tit, as you twitch and gasp; worried she might bite it off by the teeth. Despite the astringent offense upon your body, the wave of pleasure cascades you.

Skin breaks into bruises, as you twitch. Sensations of pain and pleasure blur, confusion and ecstasy. Without thought, your fingers caress Cersei’s hair.

Cersei’s mouth releases your breast with a wet pop. A tint of burgundy against the brown of your skin, a reddish ring encircling your nipple. Her puss leaves your knee.

The tip of Cersei’s tongue glides down the path of your belly, down to your navel, to finally your pubic bone. Her warm breaths tickle you.

Raspy moans escape from Cersei, as she slowly licks your mound. Plump, and soft. Flickering with her pink tongue, teasing you.

Her green eyes watch you, as her tongue slips through your folds, tasting you. Delving deep, to your puckering hole. Fucking you with her tongue, no matter how much you fight yourself, the sensation of her mouth on you always sends sparks.

Wetness echoes, as her cheeks puff up against your mound. You move your hips down, fucking yourself on Cersei’s mouth. Slamming your hand against your bedding, gripping the sheets between your roving fingers, as undignified grunts leave your lips.

Cersei admires your heaving bare breasts.

The lioness is selfish—- her mouth leaves you. You whine, stiffly leaning back. Her mouth is damp with your essence. With a harsh slap on your cunt, and another. Cersei finds her enjoyment in your misery, as you mutter for more.

“Pathetic little mercies.” She taunts you.

Silently, Cersei kneels once more, twirling her legs. Lifting your knee upward, over her shoulder, along with your other leg underneath her.

Both of your puss connect, dripping with want. Panting, and sweating, only grunts are in conversation. Your hair is messy, damp baby hairs cling to your forehead.

Cersei’s milky fingers hold the flesh of your thigh, as she rides your cunt with hers. Spilt wet clits, dancing together. Electric sensation that pulls the silky moans from you, as Cersei rides you fast.

Your fingers daringly hold her jiggling ass, fondling her asshole. Toying with it. Cersei squeals at the intrusive touch. A primal surge takes hold of you, placing your fingers into the cave of your mouth, soaking in your saliva.

Your hand cups Cersei between her ass, fiddling the bridge between her asshole to her gaping pussy hole. Her head falls back, as you plunge your fingers inside of cunt.

Her golden hair is loose and disarrayed. Cascading down her face, a lion reduced to a whimpering kitten. Your leg twitches against her chest, Cersei bites at your calf dully.

Your toes curl and flex, as the pit of your belly is unfurling. A choppy high-pitched moan spews from you, your head digging back into the pillows.

Cersei shrills a yes , as her climax reaches itself to the heavens. Bruising your thigh under her fingers. Cumming together, Cersei grinds herself onto you, connecting together, with no space of separation.

Clits throbbing against each other, stinging pleasure. Riding your highs, gently thrashing her clit against yours, earning airy moans. The tuft of her pubic hair against yours fuels the sensation.

Cersei moans delightfully, satisfied with herself. Her body towers over yours, crawling into your heaving arms; not caring of the dewy sheen of sweat that covers your body.

Legs interlocking together, as she pulls you into her arms fully. Turning herself onto her side, her knuckles stroking your hip.

These are the sparse moments you enjoy with Cersei. When she is human, when she relishes in touch, rather than harshness.

“Jaime should not be burdened with duties of the King’s Guard.” Cersei whispers. “He needs a bride. Father is aging, and one day, Castlery Rock will be in need of a lord.” She is mumbling now, mostly to herself.

“That disease of my little brother will defile us with his whores.” Hate spills from her naturally, as it always does.

Her voice trails into silence, her fingers snagging onto your flesh, pulling you closer to her.

Sleep takes Cersei, sinking into the mattress. Paralyzed in her hold until slumber overtook you as well.

The morning sun shone through the windows, baring its light onto your eyes. Rubbing your eyes by the heels of your palms, sinking deeper into the blanket furs.

The hinges of the chamber doors creak, jolting you further into reality, eyes heavily leaning to shut closed. Clicks of heels follow, and a hum.

“It seems the morrow has escaped us.” Her voice is light, cheery even. Not an inch of maligne in her infliction. It’s eerie how the mask can slip on and off—- a performance.

Cersei leans, invading your space, seating upon the mattress. Her eyes lower, and darken. How easily eerie her charm and spite can transmute to one entity.

“If I were to find you in the arms of another,” Cersei says, her voice on edge, taking one step closer, her lips stretch into a gritted wolfish grin. “I will gladly brand your cunt with the sigil of my house.” Her green eyes unflinching, her lips smirking devilishly.

Silence prevails, your hair cascaded against your face. Barely hiding your shame, you subtly nod; submitting to her demanding presence.

Cersei smirks, “Good.” The lioness prowls around her chambers, licking your blood off her paws. A victorious slaughter, a fragile doe locked in her cave, with broken limbs—- and a broken spirit.

-

Peace and quiet.

You inhale a deep breath, as it floods your cavity. Solitude has finally granted itself upon you, away from the yaws of the lioness.

Flexed fingers stroke against the wall, basking in the brisk air. The balcony’s view is marvelous. Unclipping your cleavage, so the breeze can grace your breasts, and sweep against your scalp.

Cersei had taken her leave for a meeting with the king’s council. And surely, no mere maid is allowed in such a space.

Away from her suffocating touch, you can relax in your own skin. A thought comes to you, there are a handful of empty rooms to explore. Your feet carry you down the corridors.

Without thought, searching for an empty chamber, you find one. With the tug of the knobs, you walk freely inside—- only to be greeted with whisking reddish hair.

A gasp catches itself in your mouth, holding your stomach, kneeling legs curtsying in respect.

“Lady Sansa.” You bow your head dutifully. “A thousand apologies, I didn’t intend to intrude.” As your feet backpedal to the entrance, a soft whisper calls.

“Please stay.”

And just like that, her sweet child voice sweeps you.

“Oh, little wolf.” You pinch the fabric of your dress, lifting as you walk with haste. The instinct to hold Sansa over took you. Sitting on her mattress, engulfing her in your arms, quickly her red hair melts against the sapphire threading of your dress.

Sansa’s head is tucked in the crook of your shoulder. Quietly sobbing, her delicate fingers grip against the base of your back, as would a cub cling to its mother’s teat.

Caressing her hair, you shush her softly, rocking her back and forth. “I’m scared.” Sansa’s words are muffled, vibrating against you. “I want to go home.” She wails, mewling.

“My sweet girl, how I long for you to be safe.” You whisper, “I’m so sorry for what has happened.” You kiss her head, muttering apologies into her hair, hoping your kindness weaves itself into her hair, and stays for a rest.

The morrow stretches into noon, as you watch over Sansa. Comforting her in placid silence, brushing her hair. Humming a melody, as your fingers thread intricate braids within her auburn flaming hair.

This feels like home again.

Outside of these walls, both are prisoners within a castle. But here, in this moment, is a woman, and a child. Reliving memories past, as a mother, and as a daughter—- through each other.

To heal these wounds, as mother and daughter.

Just for a moment.

#chaosfae writes #yandere cersei lannister x reader #wlw #yandere game of thrones #a longish drabble #I got ahead of myself though #can this even be considered a drabble anymore???😭 #this is not drabble anymore💀 #I just kept adding and adding omg #enjoy!<3

[misguidedasgardian]

The dragon's Mistress (11)

11. King and Queen

MASTERLIST

Summary: You had known more about humiliation in the past months that you’d hope you’d known in a lifetime 

Warnings: cursing, mentions of war, mentions of death, humiliation, use of the word bastard and traitor, incest, smut, breeding kink, from now on it will be adultery and sort of cheating, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount:  2.3k

Notes: shorter chapter, and a sad one too... anyways I wanted tog et this one out of my way hehe, now the dynamic is going to be different from before

Aemond’s heavy breath in your face soothed you in some way, as he kept ramming into you, drawing moans and whimpers from your mouth. He kissed you sloppily, and your nails scratched his back angrily, but that seemed to spur him on. He kissed your jaw and neck.

He kept pounding into you, making you whimper 

“My King”, you whisper mindlessly, and he smiled wickedly at you

“I’m going to breed you”, he said, but it sounded more like threat, “I’m going to give you my children, and you will be the mother of the future King”, he growled, and in the haze of pleasure you believed him, and even wanted it, desire it

He cummed inside you, like he always did, and then he threw himself over you, crushing you under his weight. But the weight calmed you, made you feel sickly protected

Until you remembered what day it was. He seemed to read your mind, and he lean back to gaze at your face.

“We need to get ready”, he whispered, caressing your cheek with devotion

“Please don’t make me go”, you whispered, Aemond sighed, like he was tired of you, he lifted himself off of you and off the bed, and you seated on the bed, covering your naked body with the sheets as you saw Aemond put on his clothes he left in the floor of your room

“It is a royal wedding”, he said simply, and your eyes filled with tears again, “the wedding of the century according to many”

“Please”, you begged again, he looked at you, and only nodded. Unknown to you his mother had begged him to keep you out of all this, the mistress of the King being in his wedding ceremony was not going to look good, not for the family of the bride and not for the entire court. So, wanting to avoid drama and that nauseous look on his mother's face, he didn’t fight you. 

“if you rather be locked up in here, fine”, he said bitterly 

You were more relieved, but then, nausea hit you like a wild horse, make you scramble out of bed, finding the nearest pot, and throwing up in it, Aemond was on you in a second, taking your hair out of your face and caressing your back

“Are you alright? Are you ill?”, you only wiped your mouth with the back of your hand

“I’m fine my king, you don’t have to worry about me”, you whined

“You are the only one I worry about”, he whispered, leading you to sit on the bed, “I will go and fetch a maester”, he said gently

“You should go and get ready for the wedding”, you murmured

“I will do what I have to”, he said stubbornly, and left you

He didn’t show up again, but the maester did, he checked on you, gave you a simple tea for your weak stomach, claiming you felt nervous and that it gave you a sickness. So the tea was going to settle your stomach and then he left you alone.

Alone to hear the party that was going on in the castle and around it

You avoided Aemond like he was the winter fever when he started to talk about how boring where the preparations of his coming nuptials

Because he did tried to talk to you about it

How sick was that?

That Floris turned into some kind of monster that demanded these flowers, and this prayer, and this song, and this feast or this color… Had driven Aemond insane. You just listened to him and nodded, or hummed, not really caring, trying to think about anything but what he was saying

Each time he spoke of the wedding you wanted to throw up.

You could hear the celebration from your chambers, the music, the people gathering and cheering, it was driving you mad

But at the same time…

Everyone was distracted…

Nobody was going to bother you today, not Aemond, not anyone…

This could be an opportunity you were never going to have again…

You put on a comfortable dress, one you used for riding because you could put pants under it, and that is exactly what you did, you grabbed everything of value you had in a small purse, and then a cape. But as soon as you opened the door, there was a King’s GUard outside of it

“Your grace”, he greeted, bowing slightly

“Ser Steffon”, Ser Steffon Mangold had been recruited for the King’s guard of Aegon II after half of the guard would have fled to back your mother’s claim. He was exceptionally good with not one but two swords, and his job was to care for Aemond, and now, apparently, you.

“May I ask where are you going?”, he asked, you seemed to hear a tone of mockery in his voice, you only looked up to meet him

“The Dragonpit”, you said

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to”, he whispered, “King Regent’s orders”

“Please”, he truly seemed sorry for you, but he still shook his head

“I'm sworn to the King, and I need to follow his command”, he said severely, and you only nodded, entering your rooms again.

But you couldn’t give up, you remembered what Jacaerys told you, about the secret passageways installed deep within the castle walls

But where to find them? 

You placed your hands in the wall, and pushed, then and there, everywhere, but nothing, there was nothing or rather, it was and now it was sealed shut, Aemond wasn’t an idiot and Aegon was famous for sneaking out of the Red Keep, using the same passageways, they said Queen Helaena’s children were murdered using said tunnels

Probably Aemond had them sealed 

So you opened the door ever so slightly, but to no use, the Kingsguard acknowledged you immediately

“Yes, your grace?”, he asked, clearly Aemond had restored your title of princess

“Please, I’m hungry, can you fetch a maid?”, you asked him, and he looked back at you, mockingly

“Do you take me for a fool?”, he asked then

“I will tell the king you refused…”, he sighed, loudly

“Very well, is this is how you want to play it”, he walked away from the door, and you, obviously, ran to the other side as soon as he turned the corner

It was silly, so silly it might actually work 

YOu only wanted to be at peace…

Was that too much to ask?

The only way to achieve that was to go away from the Keep, let them have it, your mother never wanted the crown anyways, you wouldn’t be disappointing her in any case, shape or form, but Dragonstone wasn’t far enough.

You had heard that Saera Targaryen, one of King’s Jaehaerys numerous daughters had run away to Pentos or one of the free cities, and had turned into a wealthy woman and lived freely, perhaps you could do the same. 

The free cities it was then

a quick stop in Dragonstone to take some golden dragons from under the mian room’s floorboards, and then…

Freedom

You ran hastily, the Red Keep was completely empty, everyone, including the staff must have been celebrating the Royal wedding

Your stomach twisted but you convinced yourself that the furthest you ran, the happies you were going to be.

You didn’t need to sit the throne, or for your children to do it, you were going to honor your mother by living, you were your mother’s legacy, she was going to live through you and the children you were going to have.

Perhaps you could search for Saera, join her, you didn’t know her, but you shared the blood of the dragon and that must count for something, right?

With all those things running through your head, you managed to reach the entrance of the castle that went through the courtyard, you didn’t know who you were going to go past the guards and that huge guarded door, but perhaps only an intimidated look was going to be enough 

And when you looked down the courtyard… IT WAS EMPTY!

You ran towards the exit, sprinted down the stairs… you were so close you could feel it. 

But as soon as you touched the huge wooden doors, you felt someone pull you off of them

“NO!”, you screamed, and wiggled out of grip, but it was Iron tight

Steffon Mangold, the king’s guard

“PLEASE!”, you cried, “let me go!”

“I can’t do that”, he seemed truly sorry as he started to pull you gently back towards the castle, “I can’t”

“Please”, you begged quietly, “I bet you are loyal towards the Baratheons?”, you offered, “If I leave, you will never see me again, Floris will be the Queen, she won’t be humiliated!”, you said, “please, I don’t want to be his mistress, you can say I knocked you out with a stick or something, and ran away, you don’t have to face any guilt, please, you will never see me again!”, you were back inside the hallways 

But he stopped, and made sure to look into your eyes

“I’m not loyal to that cunt”, he growled, and that surprised you

“Who are you loyal to?”, you asked. He blinked, and his anger passed to be something else

“Someone else”, he muttered, “I know you don’t want this, but there is something bigger at play here”

“What?”, you asked, but he turned and keep dragging you towards your rooms

“I can’t tell you”, he say stubbornly, and kept walking, and you were now resigned, he didn’t give you anything to go on, to hold onto any hope, he just dragged you back to your chambers, not before encountering the royal party, Aemond and Floris leading them, holding hands

It was only a second, in which Aemond looked upon you being dragged by your King’s guard, before you disappeared down the hallway

Your stomach twisted painfully, you were hungry you haven't eaten all day, but also, in disgust 

“Please”, you begged one more time before you reached your rooms

“I can’t”, he said, “but trust me, everything is going to be alright”, you only shook your head

“Please”, you begged, but he closed the door gently, but still… on your face.

When you turned, you saw the table was set for you. You guessed they took a serving from the wedding banquet 

You ate in an embarrassing pace, you were starving, luckily you were alone, but as soon as you took a pork chop, the strong smell caught you off guard, sickening you, and you threw it away like it burned, now you wanted to throw up like in the morning

So you washed it up with wine, and then you decided to take some fresh air, so you took a book and decided to sit on the balcony to read.

But your mind kept wandering…

Was there really something big at play here? you shook your head, you couldn’t do that to yourself, you couldn’t hold onto hope, what if there was nothing there? you were going to get your heart broken all over again… no… you had to ran away, it was the only way

You dozed off in the balcony, the sun was setting and you felt suddenly so tired, and you didn't understand why, so you walked back to the bed, disposed of your dress and just cuddled with yourself in your undergarments 

You didn’t know how late it was, but you were woken up by the door opening, you almost jumped off the bed, scared, but from the light of the torches in the hallway, you clearly saw Aemond walking in, and you whimpered, you did not wanted to see him today

“My King?”, you called, you didn't get to see his face, you only felt his heavy body land on the bed by your side and hugged you tightly against him

“Why are you here?”, you asked to the darkness of the room

“I couldn’t stand her”, he muttered, and you only whimpered

“Please my king, you shouldn’t be here”, you cried, “you should be with your wife”

“She isn’t you”, bitter tears fell down your eyes

“Please”, you begged, you wanted him to leave, you did not want all the court hating you, even though it was probably too late for that 

“Call me Aemond”, you felt it on his breath, he was drunk

“No”, you refused, turning in your bed, and you pushed him off of you, “you need to be with your wife, please, leave”, you begged. but no matter the strength you put on your arms, he wouldn’t budge, he just sighed

“I did it”, he whispered, he was out of it, drunk, you had never seen him like this, “I consummate the marriage”, that hurt, that truly hurt, he had been inside of her, and now he was laying next to you, you felt disgusted, “but she isn’t you”

“You married her, Aemond, it was your choice, now you have to endure it”, you said angrily, chances where he was not going to remember anything tomorrow, “get out!”, you cried, bitter tear fell down your face, “get the fuck out!”

He sat on the edge of the bed in a messy movement, showing you his back, he leaned forward, you couldn’t see him because it was dark and all, but it seemed like he used his mouth to stifle a whimper, but you were probably just dreaming

“Get out”, you whined, and he just stood up from the bed, and left the room without another word

Tomorrow you were probably going to pay for that, but tonight, you were going to enjoy the fact that he was not going to be over you every night, he had a wife now…

But still you felt sickened to your stomach. 

#misguidedmistress #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x alys rivers #aemond x oc #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house targaryen

[therhythmafterthesummer]

The King of the Forest (M) ~Bang Chan | 02

Pairing: WerewolfKing!Chan x HumanPrincess(now Queen)!Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Royalty | Mediaeval Setting Word Count: ~2k | AO3 Synopsis: You had one goal: get your husband’s expert opinion. It should’ve been a quick visit to his study… In hindsight, you should’ve known better. Warnings: pet names · mentions of murder · interruptions · pregnancy · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut)

Author’s Note: a follow-up to The King of the Forest that no one asked for, but i wrote a while back anyway because this idea wouldn’t leave my brain, so now i’m sharing it. hope someone else out there gets to enjoy it💜 especial thanks to @notastraykid for helping me out with this

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: mentions of public sex · oral [F.Rec]

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Being married to the King of the Forest, being crowned the Queen Consort of the Forest, entitled many things. You had to always take your subject’s needs into account, always had to try your best at providing them with a sense of security, of comfort, as if they were your own children.

You’d known this before you mated with Chris, before you became his wife and hopefully forever partner. You had also known how absolutely ravenous your husband was when it came to physical intimacy. You’d had a taste of it when he was courting you, during that year when you were planning your escape from your father’s home, but it seemed like that need for you had increased tenfold after you mated.

And, to be honest, you weren’t doing any better.

You weren’t sure how the mysticism of it all worked, but after getting marked by Chris as his mate, it was like you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. It didn’t matter where you were, what you were doing, who you were with, if the need became unbearable it was just a matter of time before one of you acted on it.

It all got so much worse when you got pregnant.

You were horny all the time, your husband was always ready to give you any relief he could, not only that but he was horny all the time, too. He’d been complaining that he couldn’t be near you when he was working on anything particularly important, because as soon as he got a whiff of your scent, slightly altered with his pups now growing inside of you, got him hard immediately, and it made him a bit feral.

Which was how you ended up here, sitting on his desk, in his study, with his head between your legs.

You’d come here only to relay some messages the Royal Advisor had given you, to ask Chris’ opinion on the matter. It took a total of ten seconds after you’d stepped into his study for him to sit you on his desk, drop to his knees, tug your undergarments off of your legs, and for his tongue to find its way between your folds.

With your legs over his broad shoulders, your long skirt hunched up at your waist, your dear husband placed a hand on your small bump, stroking it softly with his thumb. With his other hand, Chris squeezed the soft flesh of your thigh as licked and sucked on your clit. He feasted on you as if his life depended on it, as if you both would die if he didn’t, and, in a way, you felt as if that would be exactly the case.

Quiet whines and moans fell from your lips as you felt sparks of pleasure travel through your body. With a hand on the desk behind you for stability and the other buried in Chris’ hair, tugging and pulling the soft strands between your fingers, you got completely lost in the feel of him. His satisfied groans and hums, his loving, yet still animalistic gaze, all of it combined with his diligent tongue had you so, so incredibly close to your release, there was just no doubt in your mind that he’d get you there soon, and, hopefully, you’d get his monster cock inside of you afterwards, too.

“Oh, darling…” You bit your lower lip, a poor attempt to contain the desperate sounds trying to leave your mouth, to keep your volume to a minimum. After all, you were in his study, anyone could walk by and hear you. It wasn’t like you particularly minded if they did, it just got you a bit bashful. Chris, on the other hand, didn’t care at all.

‘I’m the King, my love. I can do what I want, and if what I want is to have my gorgeous Queen screaming my name, uncaring of who hears, no one can stop me…’ Chris had told you once, in a low whisper against your ear, between pants and groans. With his chest against your back, a hand fondling one of your breasts over your gown, and the other on your hip, he told you this, casually, as if he wasn’t railing you against the wall of a very public–albeit usually empty–corridor in his den. ‘But if it makes you uncomfortable, as Queen, as the love of my life, as a person, you can also do whatever you want, including keeping quiet…Or trying to…’

“That’s so good, my dear, my heart…I’m so, so close…” You could barely speak, your voice came out in hushed whispers, even more so when Chris was looking at you with that glint in his eyes that always reminded you who he was, what he was. He just hummed in understanding, moving back up from where he’d been licking at your entrance, to suck your clit into his mouth.

You inhaled deeply, throwing your head back. Your legs started to tremble, his licks were getting faster, the pressure of his tongue and the gentle sucks of his lips were just right, so good your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were almost there, you could feel the tell-tale signs of your orgasm shining in the horizon, and it was just when you were going to finally reach it that–

“Your Majest–Oh, shit!”

The door of Chris’ study slammed open, your skeleton almost jumped out of your skin with the sudden thud of the door against the wall, and Chris immediately detached himself from your centre and covered you with your skirt.

He didn’t mind if people heard your sounds of pleasure, but he hated the mere thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only he could, or so he had told you once. 

“For fuck’s sake, Minho!” Frustration was rolling thickly off of your husband, and you almost whined at the loss of contact when he removed your legs from his shoulders and stood up from the floor, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “Someone better be dying!”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting your…marital affairs”, Minho had turned around and looked away as soon as he’d spotted you and your husband in the act, which you appreciated. “But this is of the utmost importance, my King”.

Chris sighed, adjusting his length, trying to make the tent in his trousers a bit less obvious. A very futile attempt, in your humble opinion, but if it gave him peace of mind, you wouldn’t comment on it. “Turn around. What the fuck is it now?”

Minho finally turned, and he regarded you with an apologetic smile, a bow, and a greeting of ‘Your Grace…’ before he directed his attention back to the King. “We received a magpie from the borders, Your Majesty”.

Minho handed Chris a piece of paper, which your husband took immediately to read it carefully. It was silent for a few seconds, and as soon as he was done, Chris sighed, bringing a hand to his hair and tugging the more than mussed curls on his head. “Was this all they said?”

“Yup. No further messages, Your Majesty”, Minho replied simply, crossing his arms behind his back and waiting for his King’s instructions.

Chris remained quiet for a minute, until he sighed again, folding the piece of paper. “Double patrol. Anything that happens in the forest, any whisper heard, I want to know it. Tell them to report every single thing they find out of place, any conversation they hear, any outsider they see. Everything. Got it?”

Minho hummed. “Understood, Your Majesty”.

“Good. Next time…shit, at least knock, Minho”, Chris walked back towards the desk, where you were still sitting, with one leg crossed over the other and resting your weight on both of your hands, listening intently. “You’re dismissed”.

“Understood, Your Majesty”, Minho said again, although this time, there was a hint of a smile in his voice, a hint of an amused tone. It didn’t surprise you, considering Chris and Minho grew up together. ‘He might as well be my brother’, Chris told you once.Even if Minho was the King’s assistant, he was probably one of the few people that could get away with making jokes at the expense of your husband, a very close second to you.

As soon as Minho left, closing the door behind him, Chris came to stand in front of you, dropping the piece of paper on his desk and sighing in annoyance as he placed his hands on your growing belly, with his eyes fixed on it.

You brought a hand to one of his, caressing the back of it as your eyes seeked his. “What happened?”

“Pup…” Chris’ eyes finally peeled away from your belly, fixing his gaze on your eyes instead. He looked a bit…worried. Just a bit, but enough to make you worry. “Remember…what I told you a handful of months back? After we mated?”

“You told me many things back then, my love”, you chuckled, trying to ease the tense mood that had settled in the room. 

A small smile made its way onto his lips, and he immediately leaned in to peck your lips. “When we spoke about…your father?”

You took a deep breath at that. Your father was one of those topics you tried to not talk about often. It angered you too much. Regardless, you did remember what Chris had told you back then, of course you did. “That you’ll kill anyone that tries to take me away from you”.

Chris hummed in confirmation, just as his thumbs started to trace circles on your belly. “Seems like your father’s looking for you”.

Your eyes widened a bit, and your soft caresses on the back of Chris’ hand stopped.

You honestly didn’t think your father would even try to look for you… You wondered if he even knew what had happened to you, if he had any theories at all, since you really didn’t leave anything behind to give any leads on your whereabouts.

“They have spotted people with your father’s crest roaming the forest, talking with locals in the nearby towns…Asking for any information on a missing woman whose description matches yours”, Chris brought one of his hands to your face, cupping your cheek so he could softly drag his thumb over your skin. “I doubt they’ll find their way here, but one can never be too sure… If it came to it, what would you want us to do?”

You looked your husband in the eyes for a moment. You knew there was no way you’d go back to your former life, much less now that you had the results of your love growing inside of you. “I’m willing to talk to my father… To give him closure. I probably should have done it before I left, but I honestly didn’t think he’d care”.

“And if he tries to take you back?”

“Then you’ll kill him”, you answered in a heartbeat, with no hesitation. A smile spread on Chris’ face, a genuine one, one that made his eyes disappear into adorable crescents, one that showed just how proud he felt. “Or I will. Whoever gets to do it first”.

Chris chuckled, pulling you in for a kiss. Looping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer to you, uncrossing your legs so he could settle himself between them, holding your hips tightly.

“That’s my girl…” Chris mumbled against your mouth, and you would’ve chuckled, had it not turned you on so much.

Your legs wrapped around your husband’s waist, pulling him in further into you, just as his tongue made its way inside your mouth, its soft nudges against your own making you moan quietly. As you buried your fingers in Chris’ hair, as you raked your nails over his scalp and his clothed back, you couldn’t help but feel those familiar butterflies awaken in the pit of your stomach, and he clearly picked up on it.

In a few minutes, he was back on his knees, pushing your skirt out of the way again and bringing your legs to their rightful place on his shoulders. 

“Now, where were we, pup?”

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[sunfyresrider]

Festering Desire

Jake Sully X Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: After witnessing something you were not meant to see a new emotion began building inside you. It plagued your dreams, your thoughts and every part of your life until it reached a boiling point.  Tags: Minor description of injury, simping?, bad at communicating, wet dreams, minor jealously, confessions, neural link, smut, daddy-ish kink, p n v intercourse.  Author’s Note: This could have really benefitted from a Jake POV but I am so exhausted lately I couldn’t. Also, my smut definitely needs improvement, but I can/will improve that when I am not half asleep.

It was past twilight when you pulled yourself out of the river and began the long walk home. You escaped here for tranquility and a place to clear your head of unwanted thoughts. The Olo'eyktan, Jake Sully, had pretty much banned you from traveling after eclipse along with several other members of the clan, his children to be more specific. 

He explained it as a safety precaution since the sky people had returned but they rarely ever struck after the moons emerged. Your sister, Käani, said it was because you got too lost in your head and were a safety hazard yourself. You’ll admit you were cursed with clumsiness and the ability to completely forget your surroundings, but you’ve lived here all your life, and nothing ever happens after eclipse anyways. 

You wrapped your loincloth around yourself, basking in the time you spent alone. The bioluminescent plants beneath the water's surface always brightened the night so you never had to fear the dark. The forest was filled with noise every eclipse, animals much preferred to roam in the comfort of darkness. You were wrapped in a shroud of warmth as you skipped your way home, becoming distracted by various plants all around you. Your home was nothing short of stimulating, always something beautiful to look at or to play with. 

A Kenten laid on a large plant, blissfully unaware of your presence. You snuck up behind it, waiting for the proper time to pounce. Slowly, it veered its head in your direction, gazing at you cautiously. Your tail began swishing through the air excitedly, waiting for it to do the thing. The kenten blinked slowly before you gently blew air towards it. It’s fans spread almost immediately, flying into the air in a circle and eliciting giggles from you.

You began to chase it deeper into the woods, forgetting about what might be waiting for you. It led you all the way into a part where the bioluminescent barely shined and the original animal noises you heard were hushed. Its fans retracted and it disappeared into a nearby tree, leaving you mildly disappointed. You let out a deep sigh, your ears falling flat against your head at the loss of it. 

Your feet began to turn to walk back home, for real this time. Until you heard a twig snap in the distance, your ears shot up alerting you to a nearby noise. It was far away from where you were, but it faintly sounded like an animal whimpering in pain. It made your heart ache hearing such noises, you knew you should ignore it and forget but it was impossible. You slowly crept towards the noise; in case a larger animal was feasting on it. 

The closer you got to where the sound originated the more Na’vi-eaque it sounded. A woman moaning in pain to be more precise. One thing Jake Sully taught everyone was no man left behind and that involved ones left in the eerie part of the forest too. You saw a faint light from the corner of your eye, quickly you turned to locate its origin. The thing you saw was beyond words, leaving you had frozen in place. Your feet planted themselves firmly into the ground, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull. 

The Olo'eyktan had a woman’s legs wrapped around him, thrusting into her at an intense speed. It felt as if your skin was set ablaze, a swirling sensation beginning to form in your gut. Your mouth hung agape at the sight, shocked by what you were witnessing for the first time. You blinked once, twice, before backing away and stepping directly on a branch. The sound echoing through the once quiet area. 

As if on cue she spotted you, her eyes locking onto yours, and letting out a choked yelp to signal your presence. It shocked you out of your daze, fear shooting through you as he began to turn. You took off, sprinting in the direction of your tent and avoiding any further unwanted interactions. At several points you felt sharp plants cutting you as you made your ways towards your bed, but it did not matter. All you could think about was escaping Jake before he knew you saw anything. 

Once you arrived you practically lunged onto your tent, securing the flap that granted you privacy from the outside world. You nervously paced around your room, panting from all the energy you had excreted. You shook your head violently, trying to banish the image from your mind entirely. The sounds of footsteps approaching your tent made you dive onto your mat, curling up into a ball and pretending to sleep.

You tried to steady your breath, burying your face in your arms so they couldn’t see you. The flap opened silently, you felt someone peer in before slipping away just as quickly. You prayed to Ewya it was just Käani making sure you arrived in one piece. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to forget what you had seen and letting sleep take you away. Since his mate had died, he had become a bit of a man-whore. Instead of accepting the emotional comfort he so badly needed, Jake fucked his way through many women of the clan. Mainly other widows as they understood each other's stance. Käani, who understood the ways of sky demons better explained they were relationships without strings attached. 

Käani knew many things. She taught you everything you knew, purposefully leaving out select details. Unlike humans, information about sex was not as easily accessible. A person would have to ask another who had experienced it what happened and that was far out of your comfort zone. It would be incredibly awkward, not to mention it made you look clueless. 

She did tell you enough, the different appendages, what goes where, and most importantly how to make tsaheylu with your future husband but you stopped asking her questions there. How exactly everything was performed was lost on you, though you hoped you would simply figure it out in the heat of the moment.  Except, now you knew exactly what to expect from intimacy with someone else. 

༺♡༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺♡༻

There was a warm sensation in between your legs. The feeling of something hard entering an area you never gave much attention to. Your core felt as if it was tingling, causing your body to squeeze around something. You grasped at their arm on instinct, pulling them closer to you. An appendage moved in circles around your clit, eliciting sensations you had never felt before. His mouth moved to suckle at your neck, pulling soft moans out of you. You practically melted into him, wrapping your legs around his warm body and pulling him closer. They were large, so much larger than you, “babygirl,” he whispered into your ear. You lazily opened your eyes, looking up to see who was bringing you such pleasure...

... "Jake?"

Your body jolted awake, your eyes scanning for any intruders. They landed on Käani, who in your tired state looked blue, just like Jake. 

“Ahhh! She shouted back, “Ahhh!” Her voice ripped you out of your nightmare, you narrowed your eyes at her. “What are you doing here?!” She threw her arms up in the air as a response, “Why are you screaming at me?!” You settled down, pulling your legs up to your chest in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. You winced as an ache spread through you, your eyes peered down at your body which was covered in bruises, small cuts and dried blood. 

“I was trying to prepare some balm for all your wounds before you decided to shout.” Your cheeks burned bright as you remembered last night, you hadn’t even noticed the damage you had done to yourself whilst fleeing the scene. “Oh, sorry tsmuke…” She scooted closer to you, huffing as she pulled your legs towards her and slapped on healing cream to your injuries. Käani was judging you, her eyes boring into you as she tried to decipher what happened. 

“Should I ask or assume you are living up to the name of self-safety hazard?” You kicked her in reply, making her chuckle quietly at your expense. For a moment you tried to keep your lips sealed, harboring his secret for him. But your sister was nothing if not persistent and if she didn’t get it from you now, she inevitably would later. “I saw Jake with a woman last night.” Her eyes shot open, forehead wrinkles gracing her forehead as she stared at you. “No shit! Were they…?” 

You nodded your head silently in reply, watching her mouth open wide as she stared at you in shock. Käani slapped your leg, “who was it?! Don’t tell me it was Ninat.” You rolled your eyes, the drama between Ninat and your sister was never ending. Both of them were in a constant quiet battle to be the best singer of the clan… Käani, having youth on her side, was winning by a vast majority. “No, I couldn’t tell who and I don’t want to discuss it any further.” She raised her eyes at your reaction, “You’re jealoussss.” Käani shoved your arm suggestively, biting her lip trying to refrain from laughing. “I am not!”

She leaned in, pretending to sniff the air.  “I can smell it on you! You’re jealous he’s not showing you that type of attention, huh?” You swatted her hand away, “You’re so gross! It is not like that.” A faux pout formed on her lips, her hands clasping her heart. “Aw you’ll hurt Jake’s feelings if he hears you say that.” That made your ears perk up, your tail beginning to sway behind you.“What do you mean by that?” A sly smirk crept its way onto your sister's face, you hated when she got that look. You could practically hear her thoughts,‘I know something that you don’t know’. 

“You know Jake always gives you extra attention during training and his hands always linger on you longer than normal. He practically watches your every move when you're in his line of sight and don’t get me started on how overprotective of you he has become.” That made you slump back against your tent, thoughts whirling around your head like a storm. “Jake probably pretends all those girls are you.”

Käani was like a devil whispering in your ear, encouraging thoughts you should not be having about your Olo'eyktan. It was impossible for him to fancy you, not in the same way he loved his late wife anyways. Not only that, but you were also younger than him by a noticeable amount. But it did nothing to ease the thing stirring within you, a strange desire beginning to form that you had never felt before.

You were scared of the unfamiliar feelings boiling inside you, the thoughts you had about a man who had already mated once and had children!  They were only thoughts, as long as you did not act upon them then you were safe, you told yourself. She patted your leg, scooting backwards to the exit, "I see I have lost you,” Käani stood up, stretching her arms and gathering her things. “I’ll leave you be for now but don’t even try to skip out on the celebration tonight.” You nodded your head silently as she strided out of your tent as if she owned the place. 

༺♡༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺♡༻

The camp was alive with music from Ewya, bonfires setting the forest alight with their glow. You held tightly onto Käani’s hand as she pulled you through the crowd, fighting for a log to sit on. You tried to avoid the nervous pit forming in your stomach, Jake was here somewhere. 

You didn’t have the heart to face him, spending the entire day safely tucked away in your room. Times like this were rare, especially since the sky people came back. The entire clan was happy, carefree as they celebrated. You should be feeling the same, enjoying the night for what it was but you could not. Your heart ached, knowing the reason why, a lump forming in your throat.

Whereas you were on a mission to avoid someone, your sister was actively hunting men down. Atan was her current best pick for you, a strong warrior with excellent beading skills. When you were younger you used to have a bit of a crush on him, but feelings change like time. Käani heartedly disagreed, scanning the crowd for any sign of him. Whilst she continued singing praises about him in your ear, your eyes locked onto a familiar face. 

Jake Sully was watching you. 

You swallowed hard, unable to look away from his dark eyes. It felt as if he was staring through you, deep down you wished you could be invisible. He looked especially handsome tonight, his skin glowing with a sheen of sweat across it. His long dark hair was braided neatly behind his head, the braids complimenting his strong features. He smiled politely, his eyes twinkling. Your mind floated back to your dream, the way his lips felt against your neck and the feeling of his body pressed against you.

You looked away quickly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. Your ears flattened against your head, that was a wildly inappropriate thought to have at this moment or any moment for that matter. Käani turned her attention towards you, raising an eyebrow at you and following your gaze. "Lover boy is looking at you, tsmuke.” You nudge your sister with your elbow, huffing, "shut up."

She giggled to herself, leaning in close as your eyes focused on the ground, “And he’s coming this way!” Your eyes snapped up, staring at her in disbelief. Before you could protest, or attempt to make a mistake, he was standing right in front of you. Käani quickly stood up to make a place for him, she nodded her in respect, silently reminding you of his position. "Sir." Jake happily nodded back, taking his place behind you and watching your sister walk away before he spoke.

“You didn’t join us for breakfast this morning or show up to training.” His eyes gazed at you quizzingly, an incredulous look plastered on his face. You lifted your leg, showcasing the marks on it without thinking of the implications. “I hurt it last night, Käani demanded I rest.”  

“Last night?” The memory flashed back in your mind ripping you out of your drunken stupor. You scramble your words together, speaking fast. “Not after eclipse… I swear.” His face softened as he looked at your body, his fingers gently tracing a cut near your knee. He felt so warm, a strange feeling rose in you, causing you to shiver. You blinked slowly, praying to Ewya he didn't notice. "You need to take better care of yourself, what if this had been more serious?”

You weren't sure if he was scolding you or sincerely worried, both options made you nervous. You mumbled, “sorry, Jake.” His fingers slowly pulled away from your skin, creating a cool void you were beginning to hate.“Are you too injured to dance with me?” His eyes seemed to glimmer in the firelight, a stupid grin lighting up his face. The way his lips curved had you memorized, your eyes glued to them. It was impossible to say no, you nodded your head excitedly.

You followed behind him as he led you through the crowd, weaving between the many bodies. He gently tugged you closer to him as you danced, guiding you around each other and pressing against one another. You couldn't help but notice how strong he felt against you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he moved to the beat. Käani’s words echoed through your head ‘lover boy’ and ‘he imagines those girls are you’ as you danced with him.

You peered up at him, admiring the way his lips parted as he took a deep breath. The way his eyes lit up and pupils dilated when he stared at you.  A burning desire began to bubble up inside of you, a feeling you had never experienced before. It was like Ewya herself was pouring her fire inside of you. You lowered your gaze to your feet, suddenly embarrassed about your feelings towards him. "You seem flustered today,” his fingers brushed your cheek, tipping your chin back up to look at him. "What's the matter, baby girl?"

You dared to look him in his eyes, feeling the camp starting to spin around you. “I- I am not,” you fumbled your words. He watched you for a moment, a Cheshire grin spreading across his, making your heart stop. "Oh really?"  His body inched closer to yours, your heartbeat picking up speed with each passing second. You nearly choked on air, you wanted to say something witty but all that came out of your mouth were a series of broken words. "I, uh... Uh-" a new wave of nervousness washed over you. Jake took another step closer, his body pressed up against yours, his hand holding your waist tightly.

“Jake! Ma’Olo'eyktan,” the shrill voice of none other than Ninat pierced your ear lobes. You snapped out of it quickly, pulling away from Jake as if you were burned. He cleared his throat, forcing a polite smile as she quickly approached. "Ninat, is everything okay?" Her eyes focused on you for a moment, an unpleasant scowl plastered on her face. "The hunters request your presence immediately. They want to celebrate your recent achievements.” 

Jake nodded his head, "I'll be right there." She left without another word; you turned your attention back to Jake who seemed annoyed by her interruption. "I’m going to find Käani.” He gave you a faint smile, "I'll find you once I'm done with this.” You didn’t give a proper goodbye, instead quickly turning around and making your way through the crowd, bumping into people as you tried to escape.

༺♡༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺♡༻

You did not return to the celebration or participate in anything that may involve Jake the next few days. Jake had been giving you an alarming amount of space, though his attempts to communicate were all futile at best. Käani was greatly disappointed with it all, constantly reminding you that it was your time to shine. 

The past several nights you could not escape the dreams that invaded your mind at night. Your peace was sorely disrupted as the thoughts consumed you at every waking moment. If his head was not between your legs, then he was inside of you. If Jake was not on top of you, he was beside whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Sometimes the dreams weren’t of sexual nature at all, which scared you the most. You would be doing mundane things with him like flying, playing with the children or simply laughing enjoying each other’s presence. 

It further proved what you were feeling was not hormonal nor would it go away so easily. You tried to remind yourself he was widowed; you were just a kid to him but there was always that seed of hope. 

The combination of Jake merely existing and Käani’s constant presence was driving you to insanity. You couldn’t imagine how he would react if he ever found out what was going through your mind. Which is why tonight, you decided to escape to what remained of the spirit tree. You hoped to find solace in a place where Ewya was so prominent. The great mother does not take sides and she does not involve herself in things so trivial. You still hoped this place would give you something to ease your mind. 

You sat in front of the tree, bowing your head to show your respects. For a moment, there was silence. You opened your eyes and stared at the light in front of you, watching the tendrils dance around each other.  Then you heard the sounds of leaves cracking beneath someone’s soles. “She’s alive,” You didn’t have to gaze at him to see the grin creeping onto his face. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as he took a seat beside you, he peered into the sky. "I was wondering when I would see you again.” You continued staring at the tree in front of you, “You know where to find me.” 

Jake let out a disappointed breath, knowing the expression on his face faltered. "Have I done something to upset you?" You let out a shaky breath, "it’s not your fault." He watched you closely, you felt like he could see right through you, peeling back each layer and finding the deepest secret you were hiding. Your eyes slowly moved towards him, "Jake... I," your voice trailed off, searching for the right words to say. You took a deep breath, letting the air slowly escape your lips. "Do you like me," the words tumbled out, leaving you in a state of vulnerability. 

You glanced up at him, you were met with a soft smile, a strange twinkle in his eyes. "Of course, I like you," he replied so quickly you weren't sure what to do next. Your mind scrambled, trying to formulate a proper response. "I don't mean as a friend.” He leaned in closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek as his eyes bored into yours. "As what?" You were painfully aware of his every movement, the warmth of his hand and the smell of the herbs he was wearing today.

“More,” you spoke quietly, not wanting to hear the reply you were hoping for. Jake’s thumb brushed your cheek softly, your ears flattening against your head as you felt yourself losing control. "I have always liked you." His voice was as gentle as his touch, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. The weight of his words hung in the air, all the uncertainty and fear that had plagued your heart suddenly disappeared, replaced by warmth.

You took a deep breath, his eyes locked with yours, and mustered the courage to speak your truth. "I want you," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing.  The connection between you deepened, the air crackling with an electric energy. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Jake leaned in closer to you, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck. "You can have all of me."

Your lips pressed against his cautiously, your heart hammering in your chest as you pressed into him. His lips parted, his tongue tracing the curve of your lower lip. You let out a shaky breath as you felt yourself begin to lose control, his hand moved to the neck of your neck and pressed you closer into him. You kissed him deeply, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you mounted his lap. 

You pulled back, panting heavily as he mourned the loss of you. “What is it,” Jake whispered into your mouth. You felt your heart ache at the thought, “you’ve already mated… we can not-” He hushed you with another deep kiss, his hands reaching around to grab at your queue. “I’m still part human… which means I can.” His voice was full of sincerity, as he pulled his forward, slowly you watched them interlock. The way you felt was indescribable, you could feel every heightened emotion, every throb of his heartbeat, every rush of blood, and every bit of pleasure.

He moaned against your mouth, your fingers tangling themselves in his locs. You were able to feel the warmth radiating off his skin, your thighs squeezing around his waist as he ran his hands across your back unlacing your top. You gasped against his mouth as his fingertips danced along your bare back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You began to move your hips slowly, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he suckled on your neck. His lips parted from your neck, a faint growl escaping his lips, “you’re so perfect, babygirl.” He gripped the sides of your loincloth, untying them with haste, you shivered when the air hit the wetness between your thighs. 

Jake gently eased you on the ground, maneuvering himself in between your thighs. He gazed down at you for a moment, admiring you in the moonlight. The way the moon illuminated your skin and hair, how your body shone with a sheen of sweat and the way your eyes seemed to glow. His finger slid against your folds, "so wet already." You shivered, a whine escaping your throat. "Jake-"

"You've never been touched like this before, have you," His cock prodded at your entrance, the head slipping inside of you. Jake moved his hands, placing one on your hip while the other gripping your thigh. You let out a loud scream, the feeling of being stretched making your legs weak. “N-No,” you whimpered out.  Jake pushed you down, his cock forcing itself into your tight cunt. “You’ve been a good little girl waiting for me huh?” 

He groaned; his cock burying itself deep inside of you. "That's right, baby. You’re doing so good for me." Jake’s hands moved to your waist, moving you up and down his cock. "M-Ma’Jake, ahh!" You cried out, each time he hit your center. You gripped onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "S-so pretty," his words slurred. The once holy area, meant to connect with Ewya, was filled with the sound of your skin slapping together and the sounds he was ripping out of you.

Your cunt began to tighten, a sickly-sweet heat building inside of you. "P-please," you cried out. He slowed his thrusts, biting his lip hard "not yet, princess" he pulled you on top of him, his length filling you completely. "We’re gonna cum together." He rammed himself into you, hitting the spot inside that made your legs turn to jelly. Jake moaned, "s-good babe." He bounced you on his lap, admiring the way your breasts moved with each thrust. Jake slipped his fingers underneath you, rubbing at your clit. He continued whispering sweet nothings into your ear, praising you for how good you take him.

Jake gripped your hips, slowly lifting you off his cock and slamming you down again. The forest began spinning as you felt yourself nearing climax, the sweet agony building up inside you. "That’s it,” he hissed, "Cum with me, babygirl." You whimpered loudly, the coil in your stomach tightening. His words made your mind go blank, his finger began rubbing faster against your clit, and the heat in your core was nearing its breaking point. “Ah- Ah- Jake!” Your eyes rolled back into your head as the coil snapped, pleasure racked your body. Jake’s thrust became sloppy, until he buried himself deep inside you, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” He growled as he began filling you with his seed, your body collapsing on his. You laid there, tangled in each other's arms, as you slowly came down from the high.

His cock slipped out of you, cum dripping from your womb and down your thigh. Jake pressed a kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek, "my little princess," he grinned, "You should have told me how you felt sooner." Your entire body felt sore, yet you were completely at peace. Jake kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and making you melt. "I’m never leaving you alone again."

#jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #jake sully x omaticaya!reader #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully smut #jake sully fluff #avatar fic #jake sully imagine

[yuesgirlfriend]

of birds and honey

part 1

(simon "ghost" riley x reader) medieval AU

summary: the year is 1312, and your fathers knight follows you to the wood.

The great hills surrounding the castle are a patchwork of green and yellows, as they always are during the summer months. Gray skies up ahead do nothing to dampen the mood of the castle; everyone is bustling about, preparing for the feast marking the new battalions arrival, as if their presence signifies something happier than impending war. 

She can see them, now, where she is perched atop the highest wall-practiced, without fear- in a way her old governesses would have certainly called unbecoming of a lady. But did not the bible speak of the virtues of a young lady- justice, fortitude, among them?

(It takes great fortitude to learn the secrets she has learned, to climb over steep walls like they were bales of hay, to listen to words she would have heard anyway, had she been born a man. Listening from the eaves and skulking about is an act of justice, not a sin.) 

The men, traversing down the trail, look like ants, she thinks- where she sits high above them, balancing on the stone, they look like children's toys. Tiny wooden figures, a small boy's idea of heroes, lined up on the yellow-green patchwork quilt. 

When they finally ride over the moat and into the stronghold, they look like any other collection knights she has seen- some cloaked, some helmetless, all shining in the half clouded, setting sun. 

That night is boisterous and rowdy, like any other feast. The courtyard is crowded with people- servants, villagers, everyone coming together to eat and drink and be merry. The tables are laden with the finest of foods. The smell of roast goose and heron, wine, and vomit hangs in the night air with the shouts and bawdy songs. The new knights drink and eat and throw things, singing their songs with everyone else.  The castle hums with life, every voice and every soul another cell in one great organism. 

(The whole time, she sits quietly as a lady should, but listens as a lady shouldn’t. No one notices, and why would they notice the Lord’s waif of a girl, silently eating at his right hand? The servants, the townspeople, even her father speak of her when they think she isn’t listening- she is, to them, as unnaturally quiet as a changeling and as likely to smile as a mourner. Such a shame, my lord, that  her birth took your wife, god rest her soul. And for the child to not even be a boy…)

The stories that feast are rambling and, wine drunk, but the message is clear- they are hired soldiers with no Christian names, under orders from the king to protect the stronghold that is her home.

But one stands out. The only one still wearing his painted  helmet, and as such doesn’t eat or drink with his companions. Instead, he sits on her fathers left side, speaking in low and gruff tones only when spoken to. 

She picks at her food as her ears pick up words like more men and allies and a thousand dead, all spoken in an accent she thinks more suited to a farmer than a soldier.

As the feast begins to die down, dancers lying about drunk, he walks with her Lord father, presumably to show him a weak point in the castle walls.

She follows along, unseen, silent footsteps trailing behind them in the shadows. The knight with the painted helmet is tall and broad when he waves a hand at a wall that, upon closer inspection, does seem weaker than the rest. A chink in the castle’s armor, he says. 

The fire dies out, people lay around in drunken heaps, and rats are scurrying for food in corners of the room by the time she retires for the night. Her maid is nowhere to be found- based on the way the Scotsman and her were wrapped around eachother earlier, it is likely best not to go looking for her- so she wanders alone to her quarters, a candle in one hand and a half eaten honey cake in the other. 

The halls are dimly lit labrynths, and every footstep she takes makes a wet scuff along the perpetually damp straw covering the chilled stone floors. She does not believe in sneaking about when not needed, and enjoys a reprieve from constant surveillance as she licks honey carelessly from her fingers, focusing more on the sweetness of the honey cake than her surroundings.

And just as she turns the corner to the starcase, a hand shoots out from a shadow  and grabs her arm. 

Her gasp is muffled by a large hand, gloved. His other hand plucks the candle from her grasp, rests it on the narrow windowsill behind him. She scrapes and thrashes at the silver of his forearm, scrambling to reach for the knife at his side before he speaks. 

“Pray, be silent, Lady- I know you are able.”

In response, she bites down on the gloved hand, hard. The man hisses but doesn’t let go, only roughly spins her to face him; and this is when she realizes it is the helmeted knight, eyes and armor shiny in the candlelight. 

She shoves at his arms, and he concedes, letting her retreat three steps up the stairs before he takes her by the hand again. 

“Release me, sir, or you will not enjoy the consequences,” She hisses. Something furious inside her is growing like a wildfire. 

“I meant no offense, but only to warn you, fair lady,” he says, seemingly contrite, but with mirth in his voice. Is he smiling, behind that hideous helmet? 

“Warn me?” She rips her hand from his. “Of what? Churlish knights, skulking behind corners?” She turns to go. 

“You are one to scold on skulking behind corners, Lady. ” Her feet freeze where they are on the steps. 

 “Yes.” His voice is rough. “You are not as invisible as you may think- not to those trained to see, Lady.  You should exercise more caution, when listenin’ from rafters and castle walls like a little bird.” He tilts his head, eyes trained on her, like a cat looking at a tree it’d like to climb. Or a bird it’d like to claw.

“I have been told you have a lovely mind. It would be a waste to see it dashed on a tower’s stony base.” 

For the first time in ages, she forces her eyes to meet anothers. His are dark, redless, with what looks like coal smudged on his eyelids and undereyes. His eyes never falter from her stare, as would be proper. His pale lashes don’t so much as flutter. 

She turns and continues walking upstairs- but before she rounds the corner, she looks behind and down to where he stands, at the base of the stairs, licking remnants of honey off his glove. 

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw ghost #cod mwii x reader #simon riley x reader angst #part 2 coming soon #call of duty #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley headcanons

[queerprayers]

As Ramadan begins, and I see Muslims reflect on this year's fast in particular, I remember my similar thoughts as Lent began. What does fasting mean when you are forced into it? What does it mean to enter a holy season while drones buzz incessantly? What is reflection, charity, sacrifice when your whole family has been murdered? How do you give your children the gift of faith when they're traumatized or starving or gone? How can you look to the feast at the end of the season with hope when there is no sign of change?

I think of the pictures the Lutheran church in Bethlehem shared on Ash Wedesday, of Rev. Munther Isaac smearing ashes on children's foreheads. What does it mean to remind a Palestinian child that they will die? To look them in the eye and say they will return to dust and think, But please, God, not today. Not today.

Seasons and holidays have been a blessing to me in my darkest moments, but nothing I've experienced can come close to comparing. I can hope the faithful are finding God in this time, but when does that become a selfish hope? What a horrible expectation to have of them, while my country funds their bombing. Who am I to hope there is holiness in that? when I decided not to fast for mental health reasons?

I see a video of children celebrating the beginning of Ramadan. I don't have a right to wish them joy but I marvel at their faith that is more than I have ever had. More than they should have to have. I pass by dates in the grocery store and don't buy any. I wish those children could come to my door this evening. I would buy all the dates in the store. I donate to a Gofundme instead that I hope can get to someone who needs it.

A friend asks what she should do for Passover if this is still what the world looks like and I say, knowing it's not really for me to answer (none of this is), you do what you've told me you do every year. You pray for God to pass over those surrounded by violence. You ask for freedom for those who need it. You sing the songs of people who had to survive so much, many of whom didn't make it to the next year's holy days. The holidays come when there is war, like they have for centuries. There is always violence. We keep the faith anyway.

Lord of many peoples and names, I repent most of all this Lent of my country's crimes. I ask for many miracles, knowing that I am called to work to bring them into existence. I ask for those children to make it to next Ash Wednesday. And the one after. I ask for dates for every child to break their fast. I ask for a silent sky.

Rabadan Mubarak, from the bottom of my heart, knowing that I cannot bless this season, but praying God will.

#there's nothing i can say but there are also so many words in me. i need to put them somewhere. maybe one of you relates

[kckt88]

Breath Of Doubt.

Summary:

Cerelle Lannister arrives at the Red Keep and immediately sets her sights on Aemond, determined to have him at all costs.

Vaeryna of course is having none of it and unleashes her inner dragon, determined to protect her treasure.

Warning(s): Language, Pranks, Violence, Threats, Kissing, Incest, Voyeurism, Smut - Lactation Kink, Daddy Kink, P in V Sex.

Word Count: - 4242

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

GREENS WIN - ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

One Shot Take My Breath Away - Takes place six months after the birth of Aegar.

AEMOND X O.C

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @snh96, @immyowndefender,

“Gods this is boring” moaned Jaehaeryn.

“Boy, that’s enough” snapped Aemond as the golden horse drawn carriage came to a stop inside the yard.

“Sorry father” muttered Jaehaeryn, subtly moving closer to his mother.

“What’s she even coming here for anyway?” asked Rhaegar.

“Beats the shit out of me” said Vharla shrugging.

“Language” scolded Vaeryna.

“Oops” squeaked Vharla.

“He’s got a point you know-why is Cerelle Lannister coming here?” asked Aegon the Younger.

“Scouting for a husband” mused Jaehaera.

“Good luck, half of the single lords that frequent the Red Keep are wrinkly old cunts”.

“Daenerys” snapped Aemond.

“Apologise father” replied Daenerys her cheeks tinged pink.

“Oh, you have no idea how much this amuses me” breathed Aegon.

“Glad it amuses someone” snarked Aemond.

“Uncle Aegon is single, and he isn’t a wrinkly old cunt” exclaimed Saeryna.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you” said Aegon.

“Shouldn’t have favourites” mused Aerys.

“I don’t have favourites-but if I did it would absolutely be Saeryna” laughed Aegon.

“You are the King-stop acting like a buffoon” snapped Aemond.

“Oh, Aemond remove the stick from your arse and lighten up” replied Aegon.

“Uncle is brave-I’ve seen lesser men almost piss themselves in fear from the look that father is giving him right now” mused Rhaegar.

“All of you quieten down-“ urged Vaeryna,

As the door of the carriage opened, Aerys let out a little gasp as Cerelle emerged from the carriage, her jewelled hand extended to the attending squire.

Indeed, she was rather beautiful, her golden hair shining in the sun, her elegant slim figure swathed in rich red and gold fabric. Her blue eyes sparkling like the rarest of gems from Tarth.

“Lady Lannister welcome to Kings Landing, I hope your journey from Casterly Rock wasn’t too perilous” said Aegon politely as he held out his hand in greeting.

However, she bypassed greeting Aegon and made a beeline for Aemond.

“Rude” scoffed Vaeryna.

“Pleasure to meet you Prince Aemond, I’m Cerelle Lannister”.

“Errr, pleasure to meet you my lady” replied Aemond.

Cerelle Lannister's gaze swept across the crowded hall, where the flickering candlelight danced on polished armour and richly adorned gowns of other ladies in attendance.

The air buzzed with the murmurs of the guest courtiers as they revelled in the grandeur of the occasion, a feast held in celebration of some anniversary of the King.

Yet, amid the sea of faces, her eyes found him - Aemond, the enigmatic figure with flowing silver hair that cascaded down his shoulders like liquid moonlight.

Aemond moved with a graceful confidence, his every step commanding attention.

The scar over his face only heightened the allure, a testament to his bravery and resilience against the bastard strong boy who carved out his eye when they were children.

Cerelle's heart quickened as she took in the sharp features that radiated the ethereal beauty of old Valyria.

His presence was magnetic, drawing her towards him like a moth to flame.

Leather-clad and lithe, Aemond moved with the fluidity of a predator, his every movement deliberate and purposeful.

Cerelle couldn't help but be captivated by the way his attire accentuated the contours of his body, a display of strength and agility that hinted at a warrior's prowess.

Her breath caught as she observed the subtle play of muscles beneath the supple leather.

Cerelle's pulse quickened when she saw Aemond lean over and place a gentle kiss on the cheek of his wife.

Cerelle in her youth had heard of Vaeryna, the silver haired dragon who had sold herself to her enemies and married the man responsible for the deaths of her brother and father.

It often intrigued her, what sort of woman would do that, but then her reasons were made clear when it was revealed that her brother Aegon the Younger was still alive, despite the entirety of the realm believing he perished alongside his brothers in the gullet.

Cerelle actually admired Vaeryna for that, it showed her strength and determination, a true reflection of house Targaryen.

But upon seeing Aemond, Cerelle completely understood the unspoken reasons for Vaeryna’s motivations. She really couldn’t blame her for spreading her legs and birthing the prince’s many children.

His silver haired babes were a testament to Aemond’s virility and fertile seed and Cerelle couldn’t help but feel flustered at the thought of Aemond stuffing her with his cock and breeding her.

His wife should have been a deterrent, a signal to retreat from the allure of forbidden desire. However, Cerelle's determination burned brighter than ever.

Vaeryna, was a mere obstacle in Cerelle's pursuit. Their union did little to extinguish the flames of longing that now roared within her.

Cerelle's ambitions knew no bounds, and the thought of a marital bond meant nothing in the face of the irresistible connection she felt with Aemond.

Undeterred by the constraints of societal norms or the sanctity of marriage, Cerelle set her sights on Aemond with unwavering resolve.

The glint of determination in her eyes mirrored the gleam of silver that adorned Aemond's hair and no matter how much she admired Vaeryna her existence quickly became inconsequential in the grand tapestry of Cerelle's desires.

She planned to move through the courtly intrigues with a grace that masked her audacious intentions. Cerelle knew the art of subtlety, weaving a web of subtle glances and discreet encounters, all aimed at ensnaring Aemond's attention by any means necessary.

Cerelle Lannister observed silently as Aemond engaged in rigorous sword training session in the castle yard.

The sunbathed the training grounds in a warm glow, accentuating Aemond's silver hair and his lithe and powerful frame moving with a grace that only a seasoned warrior possessed, each motion deliberate and precise.

As Aemond practiced his swordplay with the oldest of his sons, beads of sweat formed on his brow, glistening like diamonds against his pale skin.

Cerelle's blue eyes followed the sinuous lines of his movements, appreciating the fluidity of his actions. The intensity of the training session accentuated the contours of his muscular physique, captivating Cerelle's attention with each powerful swing and deft manoeuvre.

Cerelle found herself entranced by the sight of Aemond's dedication to his craft.

 His focus was unwavering, and the sheen of sweat highlighted the exertion he poured into every strike.

Aemond's dedication to his training only heightened his allure in Cerelle's eyes, and an admiring smile played on her lips as she absorbed the captivating display.

The distant clang of swords echoed through the yard as Aemond sparred with his son. Cerelle couldn't help but admire the way he effortlessly dominated the practice, his movements a dance of skill and strength. A subtle sense of longing crept into Cerelle's gaze, and she marvelled at the allure of the warrior before her.

Aemond's silver hair caught the sunlight, creating a mesmerizing halo around him as he continued to hone his swordsmanship.

Cerelle, hidden in the shadows, allowed herself a moment to appreciate the beauty of the scene.

The contrast between the fierce determination etched on Aemond's face and the grace with which he moved stirred a potent cocktail of emotions within Cerelle.

As the training session progressed, Cerelle remained captivated by Aemond's every motion, savouring the sight of his athleticism, strength, and the sheen of sweat that clung to his form.

A subtle smile played on her lips, aware that the next time they spoke, the image of Aemond in the midst of his training would linger in her thoughts, fuelling a newfound admiration and perhaps sparking something more.

Vaeryna felt the subtle tension in the air whenever Cerelle Lannister was near.

The sly glances, the lingering touches, and the carefully chosen words—all seemed orchestrated to seduce her husband, Aemond.

Vaeryna was not blind to the game being played, and it fuelled a storm of emotions within her.

In the quiet moments of the night, Vaeryna found herself reflecting on the delicate balance of power within the social web of the court.

Ever ravenous for the whispers of scandal and salacious behaviours they could use for their own amusement.

Cerelle’s visit to the Red Keep was only meant to last a few weeks, but the visit had been extended in the hopes that Cerelle would be successful in finding herself a husband.

Technically she had been successful and had indeed found herself enamoured with a man who was no doubt the fantasy of most women that caught a glimpse of him, but he was married, and his wife was no slouch.

She was not only a dragon, but the daughter of Daemon Targaryen, whom she embodied not only in mind but in soul and every time she saw Cerelle giggling at Aemond or batting her eyelashes at him, she found her fingers itching to swipe the dagger from Aegon’s belt and skewer the nasty little tart with the pointy end.

However, Vaeryna tried very hard to restrain herself and maintained a calm and dignified facade but beneath the elegant exterior, Vaeryna harboured a storm of conflicting emotions—anger, jealousy, and a determination to shield what was rightfully hers.

Her children however were another story.

Saeryna had spent hours searching for spiders in the gardens only to release them in Cerelle’s chambers, her screams of terror echoing around the Red Keep as Saeryna smiled innocently.

Aerys worked in tandem with Jaehaeryn to swap Cerelle’s fancy bathing oils with stinky pond water and Caelee even helped herself to Cerelle’s pretty powders and used them to paint pictures for her Kepa (Father).

Vharla unstitched the seams of Cerelle's dresses which resulted in a rather embarrassing incident in the gardens with Cerelle being left red faced after her dress all but fell apart leaving her in nothing but her underclothes.

As it turned out Aegon was behind the entire thing, as he was advising the children on what to do and he took great pleasure in the chaos they were causing.

He had taken an instant dislike to Cerelle and was determined to see her suffer for her rudeness and blatently obvious disregard for Vaeryna who Aegon was absolutly NOT in love with.

Vaeryna of course pretended to be scandalised when Saeryna was caught putting worms in Cerelle’s hair, but it was rather endearing that her children had made some unspoken agreement with their uncle Aegon and united against Cerelle, determined to punish her for what she was doing, and it was amusing to see their sweet little faces a picture of pure innocence as they were scolded by Alicent for their behaviour.

The one thing Vaeryna was sure of was Aemond, her husband, was a man of unwavering loyalty and moral integrity.

She knew him well enough to trust in the strength of their bond, convinced that no external charms or temptations could sway him from their shared commitment.

Despite this confidence, the mere fact that Cerelle Lannister sought to weave her subtle web around Aemond was an insult that stung.

The insults were not in the fear of Aemond succumbing to Cerelle's charms, but rather in the audacity of the attempt itself.

It was a slight to their marriage, a challenge to the sanctity of their love, and an affront to the trust they had painstakingly built over the years.

Vaeryna found herself grappling with a mix of emotions—anger at Cerelle's audacious advances, frustration at the need to defend what should be unassailable, and a deep-seated hurt that someone would dare to undermine the sacred connection she shared with Aemond.

Ultimately her thirst for retribution eventually prevailed and she made a vow to herself that when the opportunity presented itself, she would deal with that horse haired slattern if it was the thing she ever did.

The Red Keep was ablaze with light and merriment as the realm gathered to celebrate King Aegon's name day. Banners of House Targaryen fluttered in the breeze, their green and gold scales catching the glow of countless torches that lined the courtyards and corridors.

The air was filled with the fragrant aroma of roasting meats, and the joyful sounds of laughter and music echoed through the throne room.

The throne room was adorned with elaborate tapestries depicting the storied history of House Targaryen. Long tables stretched across the room, groaning under the weight of lavish feasts prepared for the occasion. Golden chalices and plates adorned with dragon motifs sparkled under the soft candlelight, casting a warm and inviting glow.

Nobles from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms mingled with knights, lords, and ladies, all clad in their finest attire. The clinking of goblets and the melodic tunes of harps and lutes filled the air, creating an atmosphere of revelry befitting the celebration. Courtiers in richly coloured gowns and doublets danced gracefully to the music, adding a touch of elegance to the festivities.

In the centre of it all stood King Aegon, resplendent in regal attire befitting his station. His silver hair gleamed in the light, and the crown of the conqueror sat proudly atop his head.

Aegon received well-wishers and gifts with a gracious smile, acknowledging the love and loyalty of his subjects.

The people of the realm still buzzing from the spectacle of the jousting tournament that been held earlier in the day in honour of the king's name day, where knights in gleaming armour clashed with lances under the watchful eyes of the cheering crowd.

Of course, Aemond who claimed he didn’t give a shit about tourneys, entered and won.

Relishing in the cheers for his victory as he crowned his wife Vaeryna the queen of love and beauty. Her sweet smile as he placed the wreath of flowers upon her silver head and her gasp of surprise as he hauled her over the wooden fence and kissed her deeply in front of the realm was endearing for all too see.

Except for Cerelle of course who was seething with envy. Her attempts to tempt Aemond were proving fruitless, and his children with his silver haired bitch of a wife were monsters who needed hard lessons in discipline and the King was no better aiding those little shits in their pranks was truly poor form.

No, she needed to increase her efforts in tempting Aemond, she wanted him and by the gods she was determined to have him, so she donned her most daring dress and joined in the celebrations for the King’s name day.

“Are you really that dense brother-“ snarked Aegon as he took a large sip of wine.

“What are you bleating about now?” snapped Aemond.

“Cerelle Lannister-the lingering looks, the not so subtle touching of your arm when she's talking to you. Brother-your wife is seconds away from kicking the shit out of her and whilst I will shamelessly enjoy such a spectacle, I doubt her morbid cunt of a father would, so you might want to put a stop to whatever fascination Cerelle has with you before blood spills” replied Aegon.

“There is no-“

“You only lost one eye, surely you’re not that blind, the girl is desperate for your cock-“ muttered Aegon.

“Well, she can remain desperate-"

“Listen to your big brother-you’ve only bedded what two women?” said Aegon.

“Three actually”.

“Three? Who was-oh yeah Alys that old whore from Harrenhal, I forgot about her” said Aegon.

“Hm”

“Well, that’s beside the point-I’m more well versed in the ways of women than you are, and I can tell you now that there are some women who don’t take no for an answer and when they set their sights on something they will do whatever it takes to get it” replied Aegon.

“Are you saying that I’m in capable of defending myself against unwanted attention?” asked Aemond, feeling a little insulted over his brothers insinuation.

“In a word-yes I am. That Lannister bitch has had you in her sights since she first arrived here and whilst you remain blissfully unaware-your wife does not”.

“What has Vaeryna said?” questioned Aemond.

“It’s not what she’s said brother, it’s what she hasn’t. No woman ever wants to see another woman pawing at their husband” exclaimed Aegon.

“Do you think Vaeryna will do something?” mused Aemond as he looked over at his wife who was indeed glaring at Cerelle.

“You do know who your wife is right? Whilst Ryna might be a woman, she’s as fierce as any dragon that ever existed, and a dragon will protect what they consider to be theirs-if Cerelle continues playing with fire she’s going to get burned” warned Aegon.

"Oh, for the love of seven" uttered Aemond as he spotted Cerelle walking towards him.

“This isn’t going to end well” urged Aegon grimacing.

“Aemy-I had thought you would ask me to dance” giggled Cerelle.

“I’m not much of a dancer my lady” muttered Aemond.

“That’s not true-he dances often with Vaeryna-you know his wife” said Aegon through gritted teeth.

“Oh, Your Grace, a man may dance with others if he so wishes” said Cerelle her voice mockingly sweet, the underlaying meaning of her comment lingered in the air.

“Not this man” whispered Aemond as he tried to move away from Cerelle.

"Oh, just one dance my Prince" exclaimed Cerelle reaching for Aemond's hand.

"My lady I really must protest-" retorted Aemond moving his hand away from Cerelle's grasp.

"Just one dance-surely you won't begrudge a lady-"

"Oh shit-" muttered Aemond.

“-I bid you farewell Lady Lannister-it was nice knowing you” exclaimed Aegon raising his goblet in a mock toast as Vaeryna came up behind Cerelle and seized her by the hair, dragging her away from Aemond who couldn’t help the surge of arousal that shot through him at his wife’s possessive display.

The fierce determination in her amethyst eyes as she spun Cerelle around and slapped her hard across the face.

Her face twisted with fury as she stood over the shaking form of Cerelle.

“You even dare to approach my husband again and I’ll knock your teeth out-I’ll slit your throat from ear to ear-I’ll rip your fucking face off-AEMOND PUT ME DOWN“ screamed Vaeryna.

“Take it easy there Issa nēdenka zaldrīzes” Aemond as he wrapped his arms around Vaeryna and hauled her away from Cerelle (My fierce dragon).

"No-she laid hands on you; I won't have it-she dares to think that she can take what is MINE" snarled Vaeryna as she struggled against Aemond's grip.

"Nothing to see here-" urged Aegon waving his hands in the air, as he tried to stifle his laughter.

Aemond dragged a furious Vaeryna from the throne room and hauled her against the wall, his arms pinning her body against the cold stone wall.

"Calm down-" urged Aemond.

"Don't tell me to calm down-she's been pawing at you for weeks and I can't stand it any-"

Vaeryna gasped as Aemond surged forward and pressed his lips to hers in a brutal kiss.

“Do you trust me ābrazȳrys” asked Aemond (Wife).

“You know I do” replied Vaeryna breathlessly.

“In that case I may have an idea to stop Cerelle’s pursuit of me-so would you do me the honour of meeting me in the library in half an hour” said Aemond.

“Ok” muttered Vaeryna feeling a little uncertain.

“Don’t worry Issa gevie perzys. Just make sure to wear something less constricting” replied Aemond as he turned on his heel and walked away (My beautiful fire).

Cerelle stared down at the hastily scribbled note and smiled. Aemond had asked to see her, mayhaps he was going to apologise for his clearly deranged wife’s violent behaviour, or he had finally realised their connection and was ready to give in and reciprocate her affections.

Admittedly the library was an odd place to meet, but it didn’t matter.

The moment she had been waiting for was finally upon her and Cerelle was determined to enjoy every single second of it.

As she approached the ornate double wooden doors, Cerelle took a deep breath to steady her nerves before a guard wordlessly opened the doors for her.

The library was almost shrouded in complete darkness save for the few lit candles, giving it an almost eerie yet romantic glow.

“Aemond” called Cerelle.

But no answer came and after a few minutes, Cerelle’s attention was drawn to what sounded like a breathy moan coming from between the bookcases.

As she moved through the labyrinth of tall bookcases, the sounds of moaning grew louder.

Cerelle stood stunned as she spotted Aemond, half naked with his breeches sitting low on his hips, his head pressed into his wife’s neck as he pounded into her.

“N-Nothing and no one compares to you” growled Aemond bracing his hand on the bookshelf as he brutally snapped his against Vaeryna’s.

He was so deep inside her that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

“Aemond” gasped Vaeryna her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it ābrazȳrys, take every fucking inch of me-let me fill your sweet cunt” (Wife).

“Oh, please Valzȳrys. I want it. I want all of you” moaned Vaeryna (Husband).

“FUCK” roared Aemond as he hauled Vaeryna away from the bookcase and placed her the edge of a desk.

“Yes-Yes Aemond, Oh gods” breathed Vaeryna.

“I fucking love you-I love you so much” growled Aemond his eye finding its way to Cerelle who shivered as he smirked at her, the sapphire nestled in his eye socket glinting in the candlelight.

Aemond continued to stare at Cerelle as he mercilessly fucked his wife, filling her over and over again with sharp penetrating thrusts.

The muscles of his chest and abdomen flexing as he moved with a brutality that Cerelle had never seen before.

“Aemond-yes, right there. Don’t stop-don’t stop” cried Vaeryna the tears running down her pale cheeks.

“That’s it Issa jorrāelagon. Come on daddy’s cock” rasped Aemond (My love).

Cerelle couldn’t help the flare of arousal that shot between her thighs when Aemond lurched forward and wrapped his lips around one of his wife’s erect nipples.

Suckling greedily and he reached down and began expertly circling her pearl with his long fingers.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaeryna her entire body seizing before going slack and pliant.

“FUCK-I’m going to come-“ groaned Aemond.

“I want it-fill me with your seed Issa dārys” gasped Vaeryna (My King).

“FUUUUUCK” roared Aemond, his head thrown back as his rope after rope of his seed spilled inside his wife’s cunny.

“Aemond” breathed Vaeryna as her husband collapsed on top of her.

“I love you so much-“ replied Aemond.

“-And I love you” whispered Vaeryna.

“I never want you to doubt my love, no one will ever compare to you-my soul mate”.

“Issa idañnykeā perzys” muttered Vaeryna (My twin flame).

“I see that our observer has fled” said Aemond staring at the vacant space that Cerelle had occupied mere moments ago.

“Husband” breathed Vaeryna as she slid her hands into his long silver hair and pulled his face towards hers.

“Wife” replied Aemond as he pressed a kiss to her soft lips.

Vaeryna gasped as felt her husbands cock hardening inside her.

“I think I need to have you again” moaned Aemond as he withdrew his cock from his wife’s cunny until only his tip remained and then thrust forward again.

“You may have me as many times as you desire my love” exclaimed Vaeryna.

“Hm-” sighed Aemond his tongue licking at the seam of Vaeryna’s lips.

His plan had worked perfectly, Cerelle wouldn’t be a problem anymore. She had seen for herself the passion and love that Aemond and Vaeryna had for one another, what a silly lion she was to even think that she could come between two dragons.

As they watched the golden carriage depart the Red Keep, Vaeryna couldn’t help but notice the sly smiles plastered across Aegon and Saeryna’s faces.

“-And what are you two so happy about?” asked Vaeryna.

“We may or may not have left a little going away present in the carriage for the Lady Lannister” said Aegon shrugging.

“Dare I ask-“ mused Vaeryna as a loud shriek echoed across the courtyard.

“I guess she found the slugs” laughed Aegon.

“Or the maggots” replied Saeryna.

“I thought we agreed on slugs-where did you get the maggots from?” asked Aegon as he lifted Saeryna into his arms.

“Found them in the Maester’s room and then I put some in a jug and poured them in a cushion in the carriage” replied Saeryna.

“A-A cushion” exclaimed Vaeryna.

“Don’t worry mama. I left the zippy part open” shrugged Saeryna.

“Gods I love this kid” laughed Aegon.

“I thought I was being nice leaving her presents, not my fault she doesn’t like them”.

“Spoilt bitch” muttered Aegon as Saeryna nodded quickly.

“I’m not going to get into trouble am I mama?”

“No, my sweet you’re not. In fact, I must insist that you receive a reward, how about a new doll or a new dress. Perhaps both?” said Vaeryna smiling.

Saeryna giggled sweetly and pressed her face into Aegon’s neck.

“You know I pity the fool who dares try to court this little one when she’s of age” said Aegon.

“You and me both”

“Is everything ok?” asked Aemond curiously.

“Everything is perfect my love” replied Vaeryna as she took her husband’s hand and headed back inside the Red Keep.

As Vaeryna gave one last fleeting towards the golden carriage moving rapidly away from the Red Keep, she couldn’t help but wonder if Cerelle would ever dare show her face again.

Probably not if her children had anything to with it. What treasures they were.

All eight of them, mayhaps even nine as the moontea Vaeryna had requested that morning had remained untouched in her chambers.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond x oc #aemond fic #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #prince aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon ii #aegon the second #hotd #hotd smut

[u3pxx]

disco meshi au rambling below major spoilers for both disco elysium and dungeon meshi (only up until chapter 62)

BARKS anyways i was suddenly hit with a pang of "extremely normal about harry du bois" and thinking about the idea of harry being a former dungeon lord in this au

i'll copy-paste a bit of the rambling i did in tags (and clean them up) to catch you all up to speed

- ok so maybe harry + kim won't go dungeoneering on their own but maybe they were sent to investigate dangerous dungeons and sent to make sure those aren't threats anymore (kind of like the canaries) - maybe harry had become a dungeon master at some point and the part of him that was eaten was his memories. - GODD dungeon master harry is kind of giving me grief though. can you imagine what he would count as his perfect life. can you imagine when the illusion starts to fall apart and he's accepted that he will be consumed? but he doesn't get to die. that's his curse.

i have like several ideas on what things would be fun to explore in the au and one of those ideas is harry and kim being assigned to maintain the safety of a dungeon which just so happens to be: the dungeon that harry used to control.

(note: i do not remember that well what happens to a dungeon after the dungeon lord has been dethroned. iirc it does still stay there so OOF. imagine traversing to a dungeon and seeing things that should be familiar to you but you just cannot remember anything. it hurts when you look at it, but what did it mean to you?)

i just think that harry after being left, now an even more broken man than he ever was, being granted this false escape from his situation in the form of his deal with this demon. the kingdom he's built inside the dungeon, what if it was just a home. what if it was just a home, like any other home on the surface. surrounded by trees bearing apricots. what if it was a humble home for him, his wife, and their unborn children. what then huh orz

and then i thought: "hey now, didn't dolores have a line that LITERALLY had the words, "i will eat your mind"?" and then --

Dolores Dei: "... it was *a hundred million years ago*. I was someone else then -- filled to the brim with love for you. Hanging on your every word. Oh Harry, you were the *coolest*... But I am no longer that person. This..." She points to herself. "... has taken her place. It will devour you. Harry -- I will eat your mind."

COME ON. MAN. DO I EVEN HAVE TO DO ANYTHING HERE ORZ

thinking about. the demon manifesting as this monstrous amalgamation. if i think of a better animal than lamb that symbolizes what dolores dei represents then i'll change it but MAN.

anyways. thinking about this comic ryoko kui wrote and thinking about the dungeon as a metaphor for addiction. thinking about a demon that devours and feasts on a person's desires until there is nothing left of that person and thinking about the pale that slowly grows and expands and turns everything into nothing at all. MY BRAIN ISN'T WORKING ANYMORE SO I'M SORRY IF I CAN'T EXPRESS MY THOUGHTS MORE COHERENTLY. HELLO CAN ANYONE HEAR ME DFGDHJK

also, i think dora is an elf from a wealthy family in the au. just another layer of arghhhhgghgh to add above everything else. another reason why her family doesn't like harry is because he's from a short-lived race.

#den off the shits DFGHDJ #if u dont care abt spoilers or have no interest at all in this. i also drew a very neat drawing of a demon if u want under read more pfttt #disco meshi au #sunnysidedisco #sunnysiderambles #cw gore #tw gore #starry don't look

[luna-baby01]

Luna Gets the Biggest

You're stuck in bed full-time now, and you're not even pregnant... yet. It's been a year since you gave birth to a record-shattering set of vigintuplets that caused you to be put on bed rest by your doctor only a month in and get up to 1300 lbs. just before you gave birth, completely immobilized by your staggering pregnancy, your pregnant stomach pressing so hard into the ceiling that you were worried you might break through it. You had thought that you'd get above half a ton when you got pregnant this time, but you smashed that barrier with a combination of twenty whole fetuses spurring you on to eat yourself into a massive boulder of matronly maternal flesh and having virtually no significant movement during your pregnancy, stuck in bed, pinned down by your heaving belly, a turtle stranded on her back. An enormously fat and pregnant turtle, for sure. 400 lbs. of baby and amniotic fluid came out of you that day, slightly under a third of your total body weight.

The damage had definitely been done to your body, though. Being 900 lbs. postpartum left you stranded in bed, unable to get up without assistance, probably for the rest of your life. You lost a significant chunk of that, though, "slimming" down, if you could even call it that at this point, to 800 lbs. simply because you could not maintain that weight. Though even your non-pregnancy appetite was the stuff of legend now and your metabolism had slowed down significantly from what it was before your first pregnancy, there was simply no way you could eat enough to keep yourself that heavy. It wasn't even a question of breastfeeding, that alone wouldn't've been able to put a dent in your poundage, you just simply could not eat enough to keep yourself that fat without a clutch of babies in your guts.

Since you now have forty children, your house had now become too small for your absurdly large family and you had to move to a much larger one, having the walls of your room broken down to get your fat ass out of your old one. It was much more comfortable for you, your husband, and your teeming flock to be in such a large house, your children having enough room to play both inside and out, including with you. You couldn't do much. You couldn't even get up on you own power to see them, but your kiddos went over to you and loved their how soft their big cuddly mama was, and most importantly, they loved you. Of course, your new bedroom was much larger than what you were in at your old house, able to accommodate your mass as it was... and if you got bigger.

You and your husband weren't dumb, despite how overloaded your brain gets during pregnancy. You both knew that you were going to get pregnant again, and soon. Even though you're so fat you can't walk, your husband putting another ridiculous number of babies in your belly without incident would be inevitable, and you two chose your new house with this in mind. More room in your bedroom for you to grow and more bedrooms for your ever-increasing number of children. Your house was a mansion, which thankfully your husband was able to afford. How he was able to afford what only very few people on Earth would be able to buy was anyone's guess, but you decided to keep yourself ignorant of that fact in case it was something less than savory. You had more important things to think about, like getting your guts stuffed full of food, children, and dick. The one thing you missed about your old house was the creaky floorboards, but that wasn't really your concern then since you weren't able to walk anymore, anyway.

That did not keep you from thinking about how much of a dumb, bloated, fattened breeding sow you were and were going to become soon again, your entire existence dedicated to nothing but feasting, gestating, and fucking with absolutely nothing else on your mind during your pregnancies, a goddess of fertility in human form. A veritable human termite queen. That was when you were the happiest, and you were going to be that happy again. Both you and your husband were ready for you to grow even larger than even the behemoth you have become now. You're a greedy girl, your size alone made that obvious. You wanted some babies in your guts and you wanted them NOW!

Your husband, solely devoted to you, your children, and creating more of them, was rearing to get at you just as much as you were at him, even though you were a complete whale at this point. He had to do all the work, making you quiver underneath him. He got his jollies out of this, too, your soft body a waterbed of flesh bouncing around with each of his thrusts, you two waiting for his seed to turn your belly hard once again as it swelled with a new brood. Both of you were screaming in ecstasy. though thankfully (or perhaps it was something you missed) your moans and yelps during the throes of passion didn't cause as much of a commotion like they used to, with both your room and your house so big that those screams woke neither your children nor your neighbors, of which you had so much land attached to your house that you basically had no neighbors who'd be able to hear the freight train of fucking going on and make noise complaints like last time (something I forgot to mention).

"Get me pregnant, get me fucking pregnant!" you shouted, thinking of nothing else but your husband and the absolutely gargantuan cow he was going to turn you into with this new batch of children you were so eager for him to put inside you. "Make me massive! Get me all the way to a ton! Make me break down the walls of this room! I'm nothing but a baby factory designed to swell with children, and it's all for you!" the latter an uncharacteristically unselfish statement of you to make while in the middle of the horizontal mambo. You were greedy, and you liked being greedy. Your burning desire to swell enormous with child was driving you to this, but you did it for your husband, too. "Fill me with your seed and your children! FILL ME UP! FILL ME UP!!!" you screamed, about to know pleasure like you had never experienced before. The two of you, like all those other times before, did this for at least a week, keeping yourselves quite busy, waiting for the inevitable outcome.

And that moment was realized. A month after those marathon sessions with your husband, you found out you were pregnant again, because of course you were. You simply could not keep yourself from getting pregnant and turning into an enormous breeding sow. The cravings your new brood gave you had you eat yourself up to 900 lbs. again, your voracious maternity-induced appetite showing itself on your body once more. Your doctor, who had to keep himself from screaming at you for getting pregnant again, just wanted to make sure you were healthy at this point. And of course, the moment of truth you and your husband were waiting for had come. Waiting for the announcement of just how pregnant you were going to be and how massive you were going to get drove you insane, your mind pregnant (heh) with anticipation. Your doctor struggled to get a clear reading on the ultrasound through all of the fat on your stomach, but he got it. Forty embryos had been detected. You were having quadragintuplets. That thought sent you into orbit, having a set of consecutive orgasms on cue, your eyes rolling deep back into your head. You screamed at your husband that you'd get past a ton during the first of those steamy fucks that got you in this state, but now you think you were going to surpass even that. Thank God you got that new house, eh?

At the end of the first trimester, you were the size you were when you gave birth the last time, growing exponentially with each pregnancy. You were 1300 lbs., your belly more than three times the size of your body with forty fetuses inside of it, spurring you on to grow fatter and heavier with each orgy of food your husband helped you push past your lips. Your mind was truly mush at this point, both pregnancy brain and arousal driving you mad and unable to think about anything else other than getting food in your stomach, growing your babies, and lying back with your husband inside you making you scream wildly every few hours. The two of you simply could not be stopped from going at each other, or really your husband since you were powerless to stop him, but holy Hell, did you not want to stop him.

"God, I'm getting massive for you!" you screamed during one of the steamier fucks you had then. "I do nothing but have my face, womb, and pussy stuffed! I'm gorging myself all day long and getting fatter & heavier with your babies! They're making me so hungry I just can't stop! MMMM!!!"

"Are you going to get to a ton and burst the walls of your room like you said you were?" your husband replied, wanting to drive you as mad with lust as possible.

"YES! YES! I'M GOING TO BLOW UP AND MAKE THIS ROOM EXPLODE! KEEP FEEDING ME! KEEP STUFFING ME! KEEP FATTENING ME! KEEP ME PREGNANT! KEEP DOING THIS TO ME OVER AND OVER! MY BELLY WILL NEVER BE EMPTY AGAIN! AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

The two of you made a serious mess of your bed, coming down from a high that was simply indescribable. You HAD to keep doing this. You just had to.

The end of the second trimester was even better. Your stomach was now twenty feet above your head, and you still didn't come anywhere close to filling the confines of your room, making sure to make that room as large as possible to accommodate your ludicrous pregnancies. This was not normal, but you were used to things not being normal ever since you first got knocked up with decuplets and ate yourself into an elephantine food balloon. You were truly a hippo. A heifer. Fattened up at the irresistible insistence of that legion of babies kicking at you to keep on gorging. Your husband made good on his promise, keeping you filled up both with comestibles and himself. You obviously couldn't reach around to pleasure yourself anymore. You had that happen before when you got so heavily pregnant you couldn't reach around your stomach, but that became permanent since your got pregnant the third time, with you already so fat and so pregnant that that would never become a possibility for you again. You were burning with a need that only your husband could fulfill because you couldn't do so yourself, and boy did he do his best to satisfy you. Even you two were shocked at how you were able to go at it so many times in one day, let alone at all. Your husband practically never left your side except to order all of your chefs around or bring the children of yours not currently gestating within to you when you wanted to see them or they wanted to see you, marveling at the mountain of a woman your husband had turned you into, knowing that there would be twice as many of them as there are now. Your pleasure was completely at the mercy of your husband, something that actually got you turned on more than you thought it would. You needed him, and he needed you.

Time went both slow and fast for you. Slow enough for you to savor being trapped underneath a boulder of a belly and an avalanche of fat, but it was still too fast for you, knowing that it would all be over in just a few months. You wanted to be this pregnant forever, not wanting to shrink back down ever again. You just wanted to keep a gaggle of children inside of you forever, growing ever larger for all eternity, but you knew that wasn't possible. That thought kept you going during the rare instances when your husband wasn't waiting on you sexually, which you needed constantly. It's a nice fantasy, but it couldn't be made into reality. Or could it?

That thought would have to be set aside for now, though. You had finally arrived at your due date, and just like the last three times, nary a contraction had graced your uterus. Your stomach, hard as a rock even with all that fat on it, surged thirty feet above your head. You were truly nothing but a machine designed for glutting on fattening food and making babies. A complete lack of self control when it came to food and sex got you here, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it, nor did you want to. You were in horny delirium at all waking hours, your babies growing fat in your womb making you wonder how much more food you could stuff into yourself, the hormones they controlled making you salivate at the thought of wiping an all-you-can-eat buffet bare, a one-woman swarm of locusts. And this was all your husband's doing, your mind being manipulated to this extent to crave both food and sex at all hours of the day, and all because he stuck his dick inside you & fertilized you with his seed. Forget about a human termite queen, you were way past that at this point. Your gargantuan body filled with babies took up almost a third of your room now, but still you wanted to get even larger, consequences be damned! A ton came and went. You were more than 2,000 lbs. of breeding sow filled with babies making your bed groan under your weight whenever you moved slightly or even whenever one of your children kicked inside of you. The loss of not hearing the floorboards creek underneath your girth whenever you waddled around more pregnant than ever was more than made up for by this. And it was only going to get better.

The time for your customary induction two weeks after your due date had arrived, and you were somehow even more massive than before. You grew more quickly in that time than you ever had before, your belly rounding out to a total of thirty-three feet thrusting above your head and gorging yourself up to a long ton. You were physically ready to give birth, but not mentally. Not that you weren't mentally prepared for the struggle of giving birth, that wasn't it. Unlike the last three times, you weren't mentally prepared to stop being pregnant. You didn't want to know of anything else but pregnancy, constantly growing until the end of time. You had to figure out how to make that happen, Lord knows you've already accomplished the impossible with a quadragintuplet pregnancy and reaching a weight never once held by a human being before. But right now, your body had to get those kids out of you, and you brought forty new wonderful lives into the world.

Lying there, exhausted from the ordeal of childbirth and just there no being not exhausted from being so fat, you were already thinking about how you were going to get knocked up again, and this time permanently.

Fin

I have reached my ultimate form as a 1 ton baby factory🥵🥵🥵

#huge pregnant belly #hyper pregnancy #gigantic pregnant belly #big pregnant belly #pregnant #pregnancy #pregnantbelly #sexy pregnant #pregnancy kink #massive #round belly #ready to explode #ready to burst #ready to pop #multiples pregnancy #multiples

[star-girl69]

My Heart Never Knows

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i promise the good stuff happens next chapter 🙏 anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of injury, mentions of mating, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Ten- I Know You

—-

“Why are you sitting with me?”

You frown at Kisre’s words, sitting down next to her regardless.

“Where would you have me sit?”

“Next to Jake and Neytiri.” She says, and you glare at her unimpressed. She only laughs at you, turning to the meal in front of her. “I know you want too.”

“I don’t!” you exclaim, memories filling your mind of hands and lips… “I embarrassed myself in front of everyone, and now I can never look at them again, and it’s all because you got me drunk!”

“Low blow.” She looks at you up and down, before turning back to the crowd.

The hunting party had come back today, nets packed, and a great feast was being held. The children all ran around, the sand glowing under you, but it was much less informal than the festival. You had only managed to grab you plate before you saw a glimpse of Jake and Neytiri and had ran off as fast as you could.

“Besides,” Kisre starts, swallowing a bite of some fish. “You didn’t embarrass yourself. You forget I was there, Y/N- they were very clearly enjoying it.”

“I…”

“Things didn’t work out with Ayeoe, and I will be slapping him when I see him, but you want them. And they want you. What is holding you back?”

“My sister-”

“Ronal loves you,” is all Kisre has the chance to say, before Ayeoe walks over to the two of you.

You remember how humiliated you had felt last night, tears in your eyes as he screamed and yelled, called you such horrible things for not wanting to mate with him. In all truth, if he had not done that, and if you had gotten to know each other more, you would have mated with him.

Kisre says the Great Mother is looking out for you, and to be glad he showed his true colors now.

Last night, he was pure anger, a force, and when you look at him now- eyes down, hands behind his back, it is startling.

Kisre wastes no time in hissing at him- setting aside her food and getting to her knees.

“Please,” he says, holding out his hands as if he is surrendering. Kisre pauses, confused at his actions. You are as well, staring at him until he meets your eyes. “Can I please talk to you, Y/N?”

You want to say no, want to refuse him, but you know he will not stop asking. It is better to talk to him now, in front of all these people, where anyone can see you and help you, rather than if he finds you later.

You wipe the grimace off of your face, and nod to him.

He seems surprised, but quickly hides it, and holds out his hand to help you up.

“Y/N,” Kisre hisses, grabbing onto your arm. You see the worry in your eyes, and you grab her hand and squeeze it.

“We’ll be right over there,” you reason, and her eyes follow yours. A spot close enough to the feast, but far away enough that no one can hear what you’re saying. Besides, Kisre will come to you at the first sign of anything bad.

“Fine,” she spits, but let’s go of you anyways. You feel eyes on you as you lead him to the tree, and stop in front of it.

You turn to him, and he inhaled deeply, almost as if there is a speech to say, something he has been practicing. You resist the urge to cringe, cursing yourself for even going out with him in the first place.

“Y/N-”

“Is he bothering you?”

For a second, you think it is Ronal, come to save you as in her overprotective nature. But the voice that speaks is too low, too different, simply not hers.

When you turn, it is of course Jake Sully who is right behind you.

“J-Jake,” you stammer, but he is looking past you, to Ayeoe. Your eyes meet Neytiri’s next, and you can’t decipher the look on her face, too frazzled.

You turn back to Ayeoe, seeing Jake’s expression, balled up fists. You can’t look into his mind, don’t know what he was thinking.

(You had been ignoring the mark they left on you, on your heart, on your ribs. It made sense as to why Jake was trying to defend you- but not right now. Did he not understand?)

“I’m sorry, Ayeoe-”

“No, Y/N.” You flinch at Jake’s harsh tone, so different from how he normally sounds. He’s been so sweet to you, you forgot that his song was one of violence. You had been ignoring it, and you were paying the price now. But was it your fault that he made you not listen? He made you not listen. “Is this guy bothering you?”

“N-no,” you say, trying to look for Kisre, but Neytiri and Jake block your view.

“Yeah. Listen to her, huh, forest demon?”

“Ayeoe!” you shout, confused as to why the two are simply blowing everything out of proportion. “Don’t call him that.”

Finally, his gaze narrows down to you, and now he looks like himself. Pure anger in his eyes, like last night, directed at you. You see his hand move out of the corner of your eye- and, genuinely scared he might hurt you- you subconsciously backed up into Jake, back against his chest.

His skin was warm beneath yours, comforting, and he smells like the forest- with a hint of seawater.

“Seriously? You’re defending him?” Ayeoe stares at you, hands by his sides, until something crosses his features. Like a wave coming over him, his face changes to disbelief. “Demon-lover,” he sneers, pushing you to get past, and you barely have time to register Jake pushing you to the side, hands on your hips, reminding you so much of when you danced-

until his fist is cutting through the air like an arrow, meeting it’s mark on Ayeoe’s nose.

“Rude-ass bitch,” Jake sneers, standing over Ayeoe as he bends over, clutching his bleeding nose. You can see the blood drip to the floor, leaking through his fingers. Your stomach rolls at the sight of it.

Ayeoe suddenly roars, attracting the attention of the people around you, before running at Jake. They went down, a tumble of limbs and clashing blues, until Tonowari parts the crowd, staring in shock for a moment.

He meets your eyes, hand over your mouth, feet ready to run- a hand around your bicep, lips near your ear-

“Stop!” Tonowari hollers, but the two men are consumed in their pointless rage, until warriors suddenly emerge, pulling the two apart in a scramble, and it is as if you are returned to your body.

You register a sick feeling in your stomach, someone saying your name-

“N-Neytiri,” you choke out, and her hand falls. It is wrong that you miss it?

Jake spits, bloody, landing upon the dry dirt.

“What is this?” Tonowari yells, and Jake only shakes his head.

“He attacked me!” Ayeoe yells, pointing fingers and assigning blame like a child.

“Yeah?” Jake breathes, panting. “Should I tell him what you did to Y/N?”

“To- to Y/N?” Tonowari asks, eyes scanning over your unharmed body.

“He- he pushed me,” you choke out, and you see Tonowari’s fists clench.

Your mind is racing, and it is like you are a child, handed a rule book written in a different language. You feel lost, feel an aching under your ribs, and you know why.

Tonowari looks away after seeing you are unharmed, deadly gaze leveled at Ayeoe.

“Jake Sully,” he speaks, not taking his eyes off of Ayeoe, who quickly looks down in shame, “I thank you for protecting my sister. As for you, Ayeoe…” He trails off, shaking his head.

You can only stand in shock, paralyzed in utter disbelief.

Ayeoe shakes his head adamantly, arms held behind his back, scrambling for a drop of mercy. He can only be grateful Ronal and Kisre have disappeared.

“She’s a fucking-” but he cannot finish his insult, Jake instead hissing and tugging as his own restraints.

“Jake!” Tonowari yells, and he stops his thrashing, breathing heavily. “Go. Take a walk,” he advises, and the warriors holding him back release him. He nods, still staring at Ayeoe as he walks over to you and Neytiri- who has remained silent next to you the entire time.

“Come,” you hiss, suddenly feeling anger sweep through your veins. Tonowari calls after you, but you are already dragging the two of them into the forest, hands on their wrists.

You walk until you can no longer hear the clamor of the feast, of the fight, and you let go of their hands and turn around on them.

“What are you doing?” you ask, and Jake only shakes his head.

“No, no. You aren’t allowed to blame me for defending you.” His face turns to disgust, and it is like a puzzle piece sinks into place for you. “Did you see the way he talked about you? How he looked at you? What he fucking did to you?”

“It- it was not your place-”

Neytiri scoffs.

“What?” you ask, incredulous. They cannot act to have any claim over you- not unless they say it.

Her eyes meet yours. “You want to know someone. We know you. You know us. We See you. I See you.”

“You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?” Jake asks, and you cannot help but see the genuine confusion on his face.

“Even if- Ronal would never-”

“Ronal is not in front of me.” Jake interuotes, and he speaks the truth, and he is violence, and you have been denying yourself ever since the night you danced-

“We want you, Y/N.” And you hear Neytiri’s voice crack, break with the conviction she pours into it, and you know she speaks the truth, and you know she is violence, and still you have been denying yourself-

“Say it,” you whisper, because you are done denying, done listening to the doubts in your head. You want to start new and fresh, cleanse yourself of Ayeoe, forget about him, about anyone else other than the two of them.

“We want you.” Jake says it this time, and you step closer to them, like it is the most natural thing in the world. “We need you.”

“Do not deny what Eywa has gifted us, my Y/N.”

The nickname, the possession, makes your ribs ache and you finally know why, relief fills you and you are standing on unsteady feet, mind racing, floating away, and you need them to pull you back down, steady you, make you forget your own mind.

“I am not yours yet,” you say, because you need to hear them say it, need to feel them, need to mate them-

“Then let us make you ours.”

And you slam your lips onto Neytiri’s and sink into her, fall into her, and you become anew.

—-

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#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader